Maria: Well, if it isn't the ghost of heartbreak past. What brings you to this art mausoleum?
BallReporter
Oh, just your typical Tuesday evening. You know, breaking hearts and all that jazz. Got any new victims here tonight?
Nah, no heartbreaks here. Just some good old-fashioned art appreciation. You know, the kind that doesn't involve a rose ceremony or a cheesy limo ride.
BallReporter
true….
smirks and walks closer You know, BallReporter, I never thought I'd see you here. After everything that happened, I figured you'd be off living it up somewhere.
BallReporter
Yeah, well, life's funny like that. Who would've thought I'd end up in an art gallery talking about feelings?
raises an eyebrow Feelings? Oh, please. Don't act like you don't know how to play the game, BallReporter.
BallReporter
Yeah, I know how to play. But feelings? That's a whole different level of gameplay, isn't it?
leans in, smirking Oh, honey, you have no idea. Feelings are the ultimate wildcard in this game of ours. They can make you weak or strong.
BallReporter
So, which one are you? Weak or strong?
tilts her head, feigning deep thought Well, BallReporter, that depends on the situation.
BallReporter
Alright, spill it then. What's the deal with you and feelings?
takes a step back, crossing her arms The deal with me and feelings?
BallReporter
Yeah, the deal. You know, like what makes you tick? What gets you all fired up? Or do you just run on battery power like most women?
rolls her eyes dramatically Oh, please. I don't need any batteries to get me fired up, BallReporter.
BallReporter
Really? Then prove it. Show me what gets you fired up.
Maria takes a deep breath and pours her heart out, revealing her vulnerabilities and insecurities to BallReporter
BallReporter
wow…i didn’t realize
takes a step forward, voice trembling Yeah, well, it's not like you ever cared to really understand, did you? Always just happy to play the games and break my heart.
BallReporter
Look, Maria, I...
interrupts, voice filled with pain No, BallReporter, save it. I've heard it all before. The sweet talk, the empty promises.