Aren’t you dating someone right now? Someone you’ve been with for half a year? Like, someone you’re actively in a non-casual relationship with? Why are you melting over the possibility of being with someone else?
Trying foropenandkind, I say, “Yeah, he…acts as landlord in a lot of situations. Either he or his assistant often check in on things around town and in the residential areas, making plans or making sure that rules are being followed and enforced.”
Talira’s eyes go massive. “Wow. So. You mean if you get a leaky sink…a hot billionaire shows up to fix it?”
“Uh. No. I mean, there’s levels of management and they have all that sort of stuff delegated, not to mention that I was—am,” I cough. “I am living in a house, so my contract makes me responsible for maintenance and the like.”
“You got a wholehouse?” she breathes.
“Yeah, well. I moved with Mae, who was considering starting a family there, so we applied for a house to keep our options as open as possible. When you agree to handle maintenance, there’s a rent cut, which is great, because I’m pretty handy with a YouTube video and enough spite to motivate me, you know?” I opt for a shallow laugh.
Talira has stopped smiling. “Wow. That’s…so lucky.”
I tense.
She sighs. “I wish I’d gotten that lucky. Man, if only I knew I was supposed to list more in-person work things… Do you think I could apply again?”
I know for a fact that Crisis has a system that shreds reapplications upon receipt, so she doesn’t have to deal with them. I say, “Probably.”
A thought occurs to her, and she rocks back in her chair. “Do you think I could mention how I have friends who already live there? I forget. Is there a reference section?”
“No, there’s not.”
Deep, overwhelming offense shoots through her eyes, turning them pitiful. “Do you notwantme to live there?”
“Huh?”
“You don’t want me to apply again? Why would you say there’s not a reference section? That’s pretty normal to have, isn’t it? And you were so confident and fast to shoot it down, too.”
What? I was answering a question. I know there’s not a reference section for a fact, because I was bothering Crisis about it one day, asking why she let a weirdo like me in, real jokey-jokey stuff, and we got on the topic of what she prioritizes in the acceptance process, what she doesn’t care about, all of that.
And you know what she doesn’t care about at all?
Who you know.
To enter Sunset is fully on you.
Youmust be a kind and contributing member of society.Youmust fit in thedoes not drool over the Bachelor brothers or plan to fall in love with them over lunchcategory. It’s onyou.
“I’ve had the opportunity to talk to someone on the team before,” I say. “There’s no reference section.”
“Youknowsomeone on the acceptance team, and you didn’t tell me? Couldn’t you put in a good word for me directly?”
“That’s…” Not how this works. But, for some reason, I’m not sure that saying so will be helpful right now.
This is going rather poorly, isn’t it?
She hasn’t even asked me about how I’m doing yet.
How long have we been here?
I’mmarried, for crying out loud, but all she’s asked about “me” is in relation to Sunset, in the context ofhow do I help her get in the beautiful, perfect little town I “lucked” into.
I think…
I think I wasn’t being harsh.
I think, maybe, I wasn’t being mean.
