"Did you hear what he called me?"
"Try not to think about it. You know that people can get carried away when they're soliloquizing. They say things they don't really mean because it sounds good. Besides... everybody knows the prince hasn't been himself lately."
"You don't know what it's like... He wasn't talking about you!"
"Look, that's just the way things are. Sometimes people monologue, and sometimes in those monologues people are going to say things that you aren't going to like, but you just have to ignore it and move on. It's just the way things are..."
"Oh, don't do that while I'm driving! Besides, sitting in traffic on the 401 lacks a certain dramatic framing, don't you think?"
She started sobbing softly.
"Ophelia, please try and keep it together... We're almost home. You're exit is literally, right around the corner."
"I'm trying..." she sniffed, "I just can't believe I had to sit there and listen to him. It was humiliating."
"I know it feels that way now, but it will be alright. No one is going to bring it up. You just have to forget about it."
"That doesn't really make me feel any better."
"Ugh, I hate The Allen. Why do you have to live down here? The traffic is always horrible... and there's ads for the Subway mocking me."
"It's really convenient. Besides, I love the neighbourhood."
"Yeah, convenient... except when you want to go anywhere that's more than a block and a half-from the University line."
"It's not my fault the TTC doesn't service Muskoka." She crossed her arms. "... and you're changing the subject."
"Sorry, I just think you're getting too worked up about it."
"Too worked up about it? Did you hear what he said?"
"Yes." He sighed "I heard what he said, but we weren't supposed to hear it."
"Weren't supposed to hear it. He stood up at the dinner table and started ranting. How exactly were we not supposed to hear it?"
"It's a convention. When someone starts soliloquizing, sure, you might hear it, but you don't hear it."
"That's just stupid."
"Yeah, but that's the way things are. Look you don't read people's journals, you don't listen in on their soliloquies, and you just get on with your life."
"... but the things he said, and I just had to sit there and take it. It's unfair."
He pulled the car up to the curb. "I still can't believe you live here. Your house is pink, and it doesn't even have a drive way."
"Yeah, but it's close to everything." She shrugged and then opened the passenger door. "... and you're changing the subject again."
He sighed. "Try not to think about it too much, okay? We've got to go back up there next weekend... something about a play, and you don't want to spend the entire day fuming." He undid his seatbelt, leaned over and hugged her. "I'll call you tomorrow."
"Good night." She said, got out of the car, closed the door, and was gone.