My Favorite Flavor, Cherry Red
Syd's not doing so hot, Weiss adores her -- Weiss
Sydney has bad day with Vaughn, against better judgment hooks up with Weiss – Syd
The hookup, the aftermath, slow dawning wonder – Weiss
Vaughn finds out. Some awkwardness. But then happiness -- Syd
Weiss runs by house, Jack's there, Hitchcock, it actually goes well -- Weiss
Syd tells her father about Weiss, talks about missing Vaughn, missing Danny – Syd
Some big moment, very emotional, where Weiss comes through for her and begins to hope – Weiss
Huge action stuff. Lauren's status has been revealed, and Syd is drawn to Vaughn, cannot turn away – Syd
Weiss gets himself bought a drink by Jack. This is what you come to, at the end of a big classic romance; Jack doesn't regret it, and that's his tragedy. Weiss doesn't regret his part, and that's his. He knows very well that he will never matter to Jack again. That's just it, though; you don't choose, it chooses you. – Weiss
Sydney tells Weiss goodbye, aware that she's losing something good, aware that she has no choice – Syd
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I.
Soulmate. One and only. One true love.
Weiss has heard about these things a lot in his life: in the dialogue of bad movies, in the power ballads that echoed in the gym during his senior prom, in the goodbyes of girls who were casting those roles and were pretty sure that he wasn't right for the part.
He didn't believe in crap like that then – not until he knew Sydney and Vaughn and spent a year and a half watching them open to one another, unfurling in each other's light. Soulmates – they're rarer than the power ballads would have you think, and thank God. Most of us, he thinks, are better off without them; watch it happen once, just once, at close range, and then you're sick with gratitude that it's not happening to you.
Because even soulmates lose each other, and what you have then is – this.
Sydney's sitting on her couch, wearing a black tank top and gray judo pants. They're both new – they even smell new; everything she owns she bought no earlier than October. Sydney, on the other hand, seems more than two years older, and not in a good way, either, not wiser or deeper or more sure of herself. Just – older.
Weiss is sitting on the floor, holding a Corona in one hand and Sydney's foot in the other.