Anytime 1/?
Considering how long the deposition had dragged on, it ended rather abruptly one day with an announcement from Mark Zuckerberg that he didn’t even expect himself.
“Stop speaking,” he had said loudly and rudely, as was his fashion. Everyone had stopped though, and watched him expectantly. “Give Wardo nine hundred million and fifteen percent. We’re done here.” He had nodded to Sy and pushed back his chair before he had protested. “What!?” He had squawked in a very undignified manner. “Why!? That’s significantly more than he’s asking for!”
Mark had looked over at Eduardo to see a mask of indifference. There were many ‘whys’. There were the easy ones - “I’m bored and tired,” “Money has no meaning to me,” “I don’t want Facebook to continue suffering for what has long passed.” There were truthful ones - “He is the reason there is Facebook in the first place,” “It’s less than he deserves,” “I want him to have it.” The most truthful of all: “I love him.”
What actually came out of his mouth was “I’ve lost the most important person in my life and quite frankly I’m tired of having my heart break every single day.”
Looking back on it, hands gripping the bathroom sink, staring at himself in the mirror, he decided that probably wasn’t the best choice of words. He had never been good at words. He thinks it must have been a particularly crap choice simply for the fact that Sylas had been rapping at his bathroom door for an hour before he had swanned off twenty minutes ago. He knew what would happen - he would be asked to sign the forms, Eduardo Saverin would shake his hand and they would leave, Mark with his billions and without his best friend and Wardo with nine hundred million dollars and a piece of paper with an email address and the words ‘any time’ scrawled on it in an unmistakable script.
~
Eduardo had had a foul day. What’s-his-face from marketing had shitted up some orders so badly he hadn’t been sure whether to fire him or kill him and his junior assistant seemed to think that fixing a minor finance issue and wearing plastic red heels akin to those of a hooker’s seemed to merit sexual rewards. Eduardo thought that that fact that she hadn’t figured out he was gay yet merited a slap in the face and a demotion down to junior junior junior assistant. Or maybe KFC order taker. Eduardo Saverin ran a publishing firm - he was CEO, in fact. Take that, Facebook, he had thought on drunken nights when he’d first started it up. Now at night all he thought was ‘zzz’. As he paced his not-so-humble flat in the CBD of Singapore, he considered blowing a few thousand on rent boys and cocaine, before he remembered he wasn’t a rock star.
So he lay on his bed, thinking about masturbating, and opened his drawer with one outstretched hand. He felt around blindly for a bottle of lubricant until his hand hit a piece of paper.
Any time
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
So this asshole from marketing fucked up our orders for some posters so badly today I considered becoming homicidal - it ended up costing me about four grand just to get it un-fucked-up, and what did he say? ‘Sorry Mr. Saverin, it won’t happen again.’ Yeah, because you’re not fucking hired anymore, you moronic piece of tight ass shit. Does he think I can just fork out $4000 for every mistake someone makes? He probably does - he’d be right. The fact of the matter is I don’t want to.
And then there’s friggin’ Sharpay Albright - coincidence? I think not - who seems to think she can not only turn me straight with a few magical finance fixes but that ass-length black hair doesn’t make her look like a feral old librarian. How can she not tell?
So tonight I was thinking about getting a rent boy and some cocaine but I’m not like Freddie Mercury so I can’t get away with that shit. And I’m not even drunk, but whatever, I remember how I used to bitch to you about idiots in my classes if I’d had a particularly bad day. It’s been three years, right? So it’s not like you check this email and I’m not expecting a reply, so really I can just vent to cyberspace without a lawsuit.
He left it at that and slept sounder than he had for three years.
~
Mark was smiling.
Mark Zuckerberg, CEO and co-founder of Facebook, was fucking smiling. Chris grimaced at the terrified look he received from Dustin and they made a silent pact to steer clear of the man for the rest of the day. Chris failed miserably, caught in the kitchenette with a whistling Mark while making an innocent coffee.
“Did you get laid last night or something?” He blurts out, because really, happy!Mark is like Jew-loving Hitler.
Mark doesn’t even acknowledge his presence, which Chris is more than happy to let happen. Or would be, if he hadn’t had a gossip session with Dustin. Now it was a mystery to be solved. Not that it turned out to be a mystery - Chris had walked straight into the CEO office and seen the email from Wardo on the screen.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
So are you and Mark talking again? Because that’s great if you are.
A message didn’t ping back until quite a while later - neither Chris nor Dustin could be bothered checking the time difference from Palo Alto to Marina Bay so they didn’t really worry.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
No, not at all? I sent an email to an unused address because I was bored.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Not quite so unused pal. He’s smiling.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
So because he’s smiling I’m involved?
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
That and the email on his desktop. He’s been grinning all day, it’s scaring the interns. I’m not sure you understand the gravity of the situation.
Wardo didn’t text them back again.
~
So Mark had read the message. He hadn’t expected a reply, he’d said so. For some reason, warmth spread through his chest whenever he thought of Chris’ texts about Mark smiling. He doubted he was really the cause, but wishful thinking couldn’t hurt from fourteen hours away, could it?
He’d forgotten about internet connections.
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
So I heard you read my email. Chris and Dustin can’t keep any secrets, apparently. It made me laugh though, their text messages. You really shouldn’t smile if it upsets the interns - or you should do it more often, give them a chance to acclimatise to it.
So I’ve decided to make this email my personal diary - the good, the bad and the ugly of Eduardo Saverin. God, that’s so clichéd.
Did you know Wikipedia has a page on me? I found that out today - a young guy from IT asked me what it was like to own 5% of Facebook. He was cute, but anyone who believes Wikipedia gets nowhere near my pants. I had him demoted. I’m so ruthless.
Albright spent last night interviewing some people to be assistants. I don’t think she realised she was replacing herself. I should feel bad.
I’m going to shower and go to bed now, dear diary.
Wardo.
~
Wardo.
Wardo.
Wardo. He has signed off as Wardo. He knew Mark was reading, and he had signed off as Wardo. He lay in bed re-reading the message on his Blackberry. It was seven in the morning but Mark had a lot of money and those cool shutter blinds that block out the sun. He’d only hopped into be ten minutes ago, after a day of not-coding, even when they had a minor settings crisis, because he was thinking about Wardo and his message. He almost jumped out of bed when another message came through. It would be 10pm in Singapore.
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
I went shopping today. For new suits. I really like doing that. Diary, does that make me girly? Like, girlier than usual. Other than crushing on cute boys and stuff, I’m usually masculine enough.
I got this gorgeous Prada, but I don’t think I’ll wear it. I also gave Sharpay a decent recommendation letter and let her know I was gay. She seemed surprised. No second thoughts there.
I went to Marina Park Sands Skypark again this afternoon, have I mentioned it’s my favourite place? I took a guy called Garrett today though, he kind of ruined it. The men here are so boring. He wouldn’t stop crapping on about how worried he was about some $200,000 investment. Who talks about that on a date? Rent boys are looking tempting.
I’m not going to go into work tomorrow. Tannee can handle things, despite what her name suggests. Who puts two double letters in one name? It’s like ‘Dannii’ or something. She’s my PA by the way. She’ll call me if anything goes wrong. I’ll probably spend the day at Skypark.
Wardo.
~
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
I don’t know what you’re doing, but keep doing it.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
Yes, detailing my day to his email account must be doing wonders to his mood.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
You can’t even imagine.
~
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
Today was a shocker. I swear if I have anymore interns asking me how to do things, I might vomit in their faces. I’m the CEO; I hire people to do that. Not vomit, obviously. To help interns. I’m considering becoming one of those absent CEOs who have very little to do with their company and just sit on yachts all day.
I met a guy the other night, he cornered my in my office today. Mediocre blow jobs do nothing to alleviate my mood, okay. I just get more frustrated. As it is all of these Asian boys are throwing themselves at me for all of my dosh and I can’t, laws here are super strict on that. My father called yesterday and told me off, just after I sent off the last entry. Apparently no matter how well my business is doing, it won’t ever be enough for him.
I’m going to go throw some inexpensive items across my bedroom now.
Eduardo.
~
Mark is so tempted to reply. All the time. His fingers literally itch. The comment about Eduardo’s father almost threw him over the edge. The one time he’d me Mr Saverin he’d had a massive argument with him. He wasn’t invited back, despite how much Mrs Saverin had adored him. He’d spoken to her a few times on the phone as well, before the deposition.
He didn’t want to screw it up, if he was honest.
~
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
Happy one month, diary!
It’s hard to believe it has been a month. No, seriously, it has gone by so fast. To be honest, I’m impressed that I’ve managed to make this a daily thing. Being CEO is obviously less of a big deal than I make it out to be.
It was weird, last night I was lying in bed and I began to remember some things about Harvard. Fuck, I miss it so much sometimes. I remember this one time, I was sitting in my single and three of my friends burst into room this one time with a massive basket of kiwi fruit and multiple vodka bottles. It was hilarious. I miss nights like those. Here and now is always so serious.
Ward.
~
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
Sometimes I find it so hard to find the words, when I know someone else is reading them. Someone I miss more than anyone can imagine. Sometimes it feels impossible, especially when I haven’t worked. I can’t fill this new mail with mindless crap when I haven’t gone to work, and I have to say what I’m actually thinking. I think about things a lot, which is probably pretty sad. Honestly, though, I haven’t actually made a network of friends here like I had in America. I feel like I don’t have anyone, to be honest. How pathetic is that? I’m so fucking sad.
Wardo
~
Mark felt morose all day. It was like Eduardo was tempting him deliberately.
~
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
I had phone sex tonight, unsuccessfully. I don’t think it helped that English was his second language and I started slipping into Portuguese. A friend of mine knew that, I think. When Christy and Alice went down on us at the same time in those bathrooms he would have heard, maybe catalogued, my inability to speak English when hard. Do you know what else is sad? That I’m getting hard from this. From talking to an email address that no one is reading.
Fuck, this is so sad.
~
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Has he emailed you back yet?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
Nope, and I don’t expect him to.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
You’ve detailed your days to him for two months and he hasn’t messaged you back?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
I never expected him to. He probably doesn’t even read them any more.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Oh, he does.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Maybe you should spice them up a little.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
What’s that supposed to mean?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
Chris?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
CHRIS?
~
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
I’m feeling slightly cheerful today, which is nice. I was just thinking about the chicken at Harvard. I wonder where it is now. He’s probably living it up on some deserted island with other cannibal chickens, no doubt. It’s my friend’s birthday today. I wish I had the balls to call him. I thought for a while he’d told the newspaper about the chicken thing, but I know it wasn’t him. I miss him though, sometimes. I lot more than sometimes, actually. I miss everything. Singapore was supposed to help me forgot, but you can’t if you don’t want to. Or some shit.
I fired another assistant today. I’m going to do interviews myself from now on. Or sell the company and never work again. Maybe trip around the world. Or write.
Eduardo
~
From: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
To: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
Do it.
~
Mark watched his phone, intently, and jumped when it lit up. It was a Singapore area code. Fear and warmth and adrenaline pulsed to the ends of his fingertips and he picked it up, feeling a little bit like a teenage girl lying on his stomach with his legs in the air. He pressed the answer button, put it to his ear and breathed in heavily before answering.
“Hello?”
“Happy 27th birthday, Mark Elliot Zuckerberg, I hope today was a good one.”
“It is now.” And Mark can’t keep the longing out of his voice.
“I miss you,” Eduardo breathed, emotion choking him.
“You, too.” Mark agreed.
“So, big party?”
“Yeah, I hated it.”
“Lemme guess, Dustin and Sean got you strippers or something, right?”
“Hah, no, some interns brought in cupcakes and their iPods. And Sean’s been gone as long as you have.”
Eduardo was silent for a moment.
“Did they get you presents?”
“Chris got me a new screen protector for my iPad, and Dustin reasoned that I can buy myself the present of my dreams.”
“Did you?”
“The present I wanted couldn’t be bought. I got it though.”
Mark could hear the smile through the phone. They were silent for a while, before hanging up. They didn’t promise to call again. They didn’t need to.
~
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Oh dear God, what have you done?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
Er, brushed my teeth? I didn’t use electric, I’m sorry.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
He just thanked an intern. The office is like, mourning, or something.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
I wished him a happy birthday yesterday.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
That explains it.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
I highly doubt that had anything to do with it.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Did you call him?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
That’s irrelevant.
Message: (650) Dustin
To: (653) Wardo
MUMMY AND DADDY ARE FRIENDS AGAIN.
“Stop speaking,” he had said loudly and rudely, as was his fashion. Everyone had stopped though, and watched him expectantly. “Give Wardo nine hundred million and fifteen percent. We’re done here.” He had nodded to Sy and pushed back his chair before he had protested. “What!?” He had squawked in a very undignified manner. “Why!? That’s significantly more than he’s asking for!”
Mark had looked over at Eduardo to see a mask of indifference. There were many ‘whys’. There were the easy ones - “I’m bored and tired,” “Money has no meaning to me,” “I don’t want Facebook to continue suffering for what has long passed.” There were truthful ones - “He is the reason there is Facebook in the first place,” “It’s less than he deserves,” “I want him to have it.” The most truthful of all: “I love him.”
What actually came out of his mouth was “I’ve lost the most important person in my life and quite frankly I’m tired of having my heart break every single day.”
Looking back on it, hands gripping the bathroom sink, staring at himself in the mirror, he decided that probably wasn’t the best choice of words. He had never been good at words. He thinks it must have been a particularly crap choice simply for the fact that Sylas had been rapping at his bathroom door for an hour before he had swanned off twenty minutes ago. He knew what would happen - he would be asked to sign the forms, Eduardo Saverin would shake his hand and they would leave, Mark with his billions and without his best friend and Wardo with nine hundred million dollars and a piece of paper with an email address and the words ‘any time’ scrawled on it in an unmistakable script.
~
Eduardo had had a foul day. What’s-his-face from marketing had shitted up some orders so badly he hadn’t been sure whether to fire him or kill him and his junior assistant seemed to think that fixing a minor finance issue and wearing plastic red heels akin to those of a hooker’s seemed to merit sexual rewards. Eduardo thought that that fact that she hadn’t figured out he was gay yet merited a slap in the face and a demotion down to junior junior junior assistant. Or maybe KFC order taker. Eduardo Saverin ran a publishing firm - he was CEO, in fact. Take that, Facebook, he had thought on drunken nights when he’d first started it up. Now at night all he thought was ‘zzz’. As he paced his not-so-humble flat in the CBD of Singapore, he considered blowing a few thousand on rent boys and cocaine, before he remembered he wasn’t a rock star.
So he lay on his bed, thinking about masturbating, and opened his drawer with one outstretched hand. He felt around blindly for a bottle of lubricant until his hand hit a piece of paper.
Any time
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
So this asshole from marketing fucked up our orders for some posters so badly today I considered becoming homicidal - it ended up costing me about four grand just to get it un-fucked-up, and what did he say? ‘Sorry Mr. Saverin, it won’t happen again.’ Yeah, because you’re not fucking hired anymore, you moronic piece of tight ass shit. Does he think I can just fork out $4000 for every mistake someone makes? He probably does - he’d be right. The fact of the matter is I don’t want to.
And then there’s friggin’ Sharpay Albright - coincidence? I think not - who seems to think she can not only turn me straight with a few magical finance fixes but that ass-length black hair doesn’t make her look like a feral old librarian. How can she not tell?
So tonight I was thinking about getting a rent boy and some cocaine but I’m not like Freddie Mercury so I can’t get away with that shit. And I’m not even drunk, but whatever, I remember how I used to bitch to you about idiots in my classes if I’d had a particularly bad day. It’s been three years, right? So it’s not like you check this email and I’m not expecting a reply, so really I can just vent to cyberspace without a lawsuit.
He left it at that and slept sounder than he had for three years.
~
Mark was smiling.
Mark Zuckerberg, CEO and co-founder of Facebook, was fucking smiling. Chris grimaced at the terrified look he received from Dustin and they made a silent pact to steer clear of the man for the rest of the day. Chris failed miserably, caught in the kitchenette with a whistling Mark while making an innocent coffee.
“Did you get laid last night or something?” He blurts out, because really, happy!Mark is like Jew-loving Hitler.
Mark doesn’t even acknowledge his presence, which Chris is more than happy to let happen. Or would be, if he hadn’t had a gossip session with Dustin. Now it was a mystery to be solved. Not that it turned out to be a mystery - Chris had walked straight into the CEO office and seen the email from Wardo on the screen.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
So are you and Mark talking again? Because that’s great if you are.
A message didn’t ping back until quite a while later - neither Chris nor Dustin could be bothered checking the time difference from Palo Alto to Marina Bay so they didn’t really worry.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
No, not at all? I sent an email to an unused address because I was bored.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Not quite so unused pal. He’s smiling.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
So because he’s smiling I’m involved?
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
That and the email on his desktop. He’s been grinning all day, it’s scaring the interns. I’m not sure you understand the gravity of the situation.
Wardo didn’t text them back again.
~
So Mark had read the message. He hadn’t expected a reply, he’d said so. For some reason, warmth spread through his chest whenever he thought of Chris’ texts about Mark smiling. He doubted he was really the cause, but wishful thinking couldn’t hurt from fourteen hours away, could it?
He’d forgotten about internet connections.
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
So I heard you read my email. Chris and Dustin can’t keep any secrets, apparently. It made me laugh though, their text messages. You really shouldn’t smile if it upsets the interns - or you should do it more often, give them a chance to acclimatise to it.
So I’ve decided to make this email my personal diary - the good, the bad and the ugly of Eduardo Saverin. God, that’s so clichéd.
Did you know Wikipedia has a page on me? I found that out today - a young guy from IT asked me what it was like to own 5% of Facebook. He was cute, but anyone who believes Wikipedia gets nowhere near my pants. I had him demoted. I’m so ruthless.
Albright spent last night interviewing some people to be assistants. I don’t think she realised she was replacing herself. I should feel bad.
I’m going to shower and go to bed now, dear diary.
Wardo.
~
Wardo.
Wardo.
Wardo. He has signed off as Wardo. He knew Mark was reading, and he had signed off as Wardo. He lay in bed re-reading the message on his Blackberry. It was seven in the morning but Mark had a lot of money and those cool shutter blinds that block out the sun. He’d only hopped into be ten minutes ago, after a day of not-coding, even when they had a minor settings crisis, because he was thinking about Wardo and his message. He almost jumped out of bed when another message came through. It would be 10pm in Singapore.
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
I went shopping today. For new suits. I really like doing that. Diary, does that make me girly? Like, girlier than usual. Other than crushing on cute boys and stuff, I’m usually masculine enough.
I got this gorgeous Prada, but I don’t think I’ll wear it. I also gave Sharpay a decent recommendation letter and let her know I was gay. She seemed surprised. No second thoughts there.
I went to Marina Park Sands Skypark again this afternoon, have I mentioned it’s my favourite place? I took a guy called Garrett today though, he kind of ruined it. The men here are so boring. He wouldn’t stop crapping on about how worried he was about some $200,000 investment. Who talks about that on a date? Rent boys are looking tempting.
I’m not going to go into work tomorrow. Tannee can handle things, despite what her name suggests. Who puts two double letters in one name? It’s like ‘Dannii’ or something. She’s my PA by the way. She’ll call me if anything goes wrong. I’ll probably spend the day at Skypark.
Wardo.
~
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
I don’t know what you’re doing, but keep doing it.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
Yes, detailing my day to his email account must be doing wonders to his mood.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
You can’t even imagine.
~
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
Today was a shocker. I swear if I have anymore interns asking me how to do things, I might vomit in their faces. I’m the CEO; I hire people to do that. Not vomit, obviously. To help interns. I’m considering becoming one of those absent CEOs who have very little to do with their company and just sit on yachts all day.
I met a guy the other night, he cornered my in my office today. Mediocre blow jobs do nothing to alleviate my mood, okay. I just get more frustrated. As it is all of these Asian boys are throwing themselves at me for all of my dosh and I can’t, laws here are super strict on that. My father called yesterday and told me off, just after I sent off the last entry. Apparently no matter how well my business is doing, it won’t ever be enough for him.
I’m going to go throw some inexpensive items across my bedroom now.
Eduardo.
~
Mark is so tempted to reply. All the time. His fingers literally itch. The comment about Eduardo’s father almost threw him over the edge. The one time he’d me Mr Saverin he’d had a massive argument with him. He wasn’t invited back, despite how much Mrs Saverin had adored him. He’d spoken to her a few times on the phone as well, before the deposition.
He didn’t want to screw it up, if he was honest.
~
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
Happy one month, diary!
It’s hard to believe it has been a month. No, seriously, it has gone by so fast. To be honest, I’m impressed that I’ve managed to make this a daily thing. Being CEO is obviously less of a big deal than I make it out to be.
It was weird, last night I was lying in bed and I began to remember some things about Harvard. Fuck, I miss it so much sometimes. I remember this one time, I was sitting in my single and three of my friends burst into room this one time with a massive basket of kiwi fruit and multiple vodka bottles. It was hilarious. I miss nights like those. Here and now is always so serious.
Ward.
~
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
Sometimes I find it so hard to find the words, when I know someone else is reading them. Someone I miss more than anyone can imagine. Sometimes it feels impossible, especially when I haven’t worked. I can’t fill this new mail with mindless crap when I haven’t gone to work, and I have to say what I’m actually thinking. I think about things a lot, which is probably pretty sad. Honestly, though, I haven’t actually made a network of friends here like I had in America. I feel like I don’t have anyone, to be honest. How pathetic is that? I’m so fucking sad.
Wardo
~
Mark felt morose all day. It was like Eduardo was tempting him deliberately.
~
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
I had phone sex tonight, unsuccessfully. I don’t think it helped that English was his second language and I started slipping into Portuguese. A friend of mine knew that, I think. When Christy and Alice went down on us at the same time in those bathrooms he would have heard, maybe catalogued, my inability to speak English when hard. Do you know what else is sad? That I’m getting hard from this. From talking to an email address that no one is reading.
Fuck, this is so sad.
~
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Has he emailed you back yet?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
Nope, and I don’t expect him to.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
You’ve detailed your days to him for two months and he hasn’t messaged you back?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
I never expected him to. He probably doesn’t even read them any more.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Oh, he does.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Maybe you should spice them up a little.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
What’s that supposed to mean?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
Chris?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
CHRIS?
~
From: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
To: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
I’m feeling slightly cheerful today, which is nice. I was just thinking about the chicken at Harvard. I wonder where it is now. He’s probably living it up on some deserted island with other cannibal chickens, no doubt. It’s my friend’s birthday today. I wish I had the balls to call him. I thought for a while he’d told the newspaper about the chicken thing, but I know it wasn’t him. I miss him though, sometimes. I lot more than sometimes, actually. I miss everything. Singapore was supposed to help me forgot, but you can’t if you don’t want to. Or some shit.
I fired another assistant today. I’m going to do interviews myself from now on. Or sell the company and never work again. Maybe trip around the world. Or write.
Eduardo
~
From: I’m CEO, bitch <zuckonit@facebook.com>
To: Eduardo Saverin <eduardosaverinpersonal@gmail.com>
Do it.
~
Mark watched his phone, intently, and jumped when it lit up. It was a Singapore area code. Fear and warmth and adrenaline pulsed to the ends of his fingertips and he picked it up, feeling a little bit like a teenage girl lying on his stomach with his legs in the air. He pressed the answer button, put it to his ear and breathed in heavily before answering.
“Hello?”
“Happy 27th birthday, Mark Elliot Zuckerberg, I hope today was a good one.”
“It is now.” And Mark can’t keep the longing out of his voice.
“I miss you,” Eduardo breathed, emotion choking him.
“You, too.” Mark agreed.
“So, big party?”
“Yeah, I hated it.”
“Lemme guess, Dustin and Sean got you strippers or something, right?”
“Hah, no, some interns brought in cupcakes and their iPods. And Sean’s been gone as long as you have.”
Eduardo was silent for a moment.
“Did they get you presents?”
“Chris got me a new screen protector for my iPad, and Dustin reasoned that I can buy myself the present of my dreams.”
“Did you?”
“The present I wanted couldn’t be bought. I got it though.”
Mark could hear the smile through the phone. They were silent for a while, before hanging up. They didn’t promise to call again. They didn’t need to.
~
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Oh dear God, what have you done?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
Er, brushed my teeth? I didn’t use electric, I’m sorry.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
He just thanked an intern. The office is like, mourning, or something.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
I wished him a happy birthday yesterday.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
That explains it.
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
I highly doubt that had anything to do with it.
Message: (650) Chris
To: (653) Wardo
Did you call him?
Message: (653) Wardo
To: (650) Chris
That’s irrelevant.
Message: (650) Dustin
To: (653) Wardo
MUMMY AND DADDY ARE FRIENDS AGAIN.