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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

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Constructive Critique

‘Hiiiii-’ Joan swung herself into Maggie’s cabin, narrowly avoiding the myriad of shoes and cigarette packets that littered the floor, and flopped down onto the bunk. ‘Are you ready to go?’

‘Mmm.’

Maggie didn’t look up from her laptop.

Joan was used to this- when Maggie was in her ‘creative zone’ (otherwise known as the ‘fuck off and dont talk to me zone’), it sometimes took her a while to be able to leave it.

She settled in for a wait and made herself comfy on Maggie's bunk- as usual, the bed was unmade. Unable to help herself, she twitched the covers into place before she sat down.

No response.

Hm.

That was odd. Maggie usually hated anyone tidying up after her.

Joan could still remember the time she’d relegated Anne to sitting on the floor for having the audacity to fold up her pajamas for her. Granted, Joan was never subjected to quite the same level of temper as everyone else….but still, even she was used to being ordered sharply to ‘just leave it alone Joan, jesus-’.

She smoothed out the bedspread.

Still no response.

Weird.

Biting the bullet, she rolled onto her stomach, rearranged Maggie's pillows and started to order the bits and pieces scattered on the bedside table, expecting every second for Maggie to look up and bark at her to stop.

Nothing.

Sitting up, she looked at Maggie more closely.

She was staring intently at her laptop screen, but she didn’t look how she usually looked when working- the peaceful faraway look was gone. She wasn't typing or clicking through. Her hands were in her lap.

In fact, they were clenched into fists.

‘Maggie?’

Nothing.

‘Mags- are you ok?’

Joan crawled off the bed and came over.

‘Mags?’

Maggie jumped as if waking up when Joan touched her arm. ‘What? Oh, sorry-’

‘Are you ok?’

‘Fine...did you want something?’ Already, her eyes were drifting back to the screen and Joan felt wrong footed.

‘I just….we were going to get something to eat?’ She wondered if this was Maggie's way of letting her know she wasn't in the mood- a bit of a change from her usual ‘Fuck, can we take a raincheck?’ but still a possibility. ‘We don't have to if you don’t want-’

‘Oh-’ Maggie seemed to catch onto Joan’s hesitancy, to notice the way her fingers twisted anxiously ‘Sorry- of course we were....’ She shook her head. ‘Of course we can-’

But her tone was off- Joan was more used to Maggie's flat affect than anyone, and she could tell what was normal and what wasn’t. This….wasn’t.

She put out a hand to pause Maggie in the middle of her perfunctory hunt for her wallet and keycard.

‘Mags? Something's up. Tell me? Please?’

Maggie got her stubborn look for a moment- as if planning on flat out denying all and making Joan fight her over it- but then she sighed and shrugged.

‘Oh, it’s nothing. Honestly. Really really stupid-’

‘What?’ The suspense was killing Joan. She was seconds away from breaking her new year's resolution to give up biting her nails. (Three months in and going strong. Maggie’s- to give up smoking, at Anne and Joan’s joint request- had lasted all of two hours and twenty minutes.)

Maggie bit her lip, obviously debating whether or not to actually finish.

‘-someone left a review on my last recording-’

‘Oh!’ Joan bounced happily for a moment. She knew how much reviews meant to Maggie- despite her repeated claims that her music was for her not for anyone else, Joan knew that the rare confirmations that someone else had actually noticed the piece of herself that she’d thrown into the void of cyberspace were precious. ‘What did they say?’

In answer, Maggie tilted her laptop screen so that Joan could read for herself.

‘-know you’re only starting out as musician….constructive criticism….whoever taught you really missed out on a few things didn't they?.....irritating tendencies….poor technique...know you’re sensitive…..would be happy to point you to some online resources….’ And then the sweetly poisonous ending ‘Please know this comes from a place of wanting you to be better and improve...’

There was no name, no address, no picture icon.

The first time she read it, the faux-concern and almost paternalistic tone made her want to laugh.

Then she read it again- and looked at Maggie, drooping in her chair and looking so very tired- and hot anger took over.

‘It’s...polite, isn’t it?’ Maggie quirked an eyebrow in her usual sardonic manner but her hands didn’t unclench. ‘I didn't think people talked like that any more-’

‘Oh Maggie-’

‘I feel like blaming my teacher was a bit harsh….poor Mr Greyson isn’t even here to defend himself. And it’s hardly his fault I never paid attention in class-’

A muscle gave a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch, just under Maggie's right eye.

‘Mags-’

‘Nice of them to concede I’m still learning though. I guess. Although-’ Maggie turned to face Joan properly for the first time. ‘They think my technique is bad? Imagine how much worse it is for me, I’m the one actually trying to play despite it, jesus, like c’mon, cut me some slack-’

‘Maggie!’

‘What?’

‘Fuck them!’

Maggie blinked at her. ‘What?’ It wasn’t often that she was able to surprise the other girl, and Joan made a mental note to let Maggie know just how adorable she looked when she was really, truly taken back, when things were less fraught.

‘Joey?’

‘Fuck them, Mags! Fuck whatever patronising little-’ she paused. It wasn't that she was reluctant to swear, more that she was afraid of Maggie laughing at her for her choice- she’d never heard the end of it when she’d frustratedly called a queue-jumper an ‘inconsiderate dick-face’.

Ironically, it had been an attempt to prove to everyone that she was adult enough to swear if she wanted to. The attempt had, she had to admit, backfired spectacularly well.

‘Go on-’ There was an amused quirk to Maggie's eyebrow- obviously their thoughts had followed a similar vein. ‘A little-?’

‘Never mind. Point is-’ She stabbed a finger at the laptop screen. ‘I cant believe anyone would have the nerve to say shit like that- as if they’re the arbitrator of what good music is, when they’re not even brave enough to come off anon!- and to then call you sensitive!’

Maggie shrugged. ‘Constructive criticism and all that-’

‘No! Constructive criticism is-’ Joan groped for a good comparison. ‘When I tell you that I want tips on how I can make the others listen to me. Or when I direct you guys during rehearsal. Not….this. This….’Oh I’m such a good person, I’m so wise and talented, let me point out all your faults in a really unnecessarily nasty way and then call you thin skinned’...if they really care, why aren’t they linking you to their own page? So you can get tips from them, if they’re so good. Or even so you can ask them questions privately?’

Maggie shrugged. ‘Maybe they just don't want to- I mean, they don’t have to-’

‘Maybe they know exactly how nasty the message was and don't want to face any consequences from it, you mean-’ Internally, Joan wondered if it was bad form to snap at someone when trying to stick up for them. Oh well. She’d ask Maggie later, Maggie would know. ‘Maybe they just like patting themselves on the back by pointing out non-issues or things you’re already aware of and are working on by presenting themselves as this master musician, but in a way that means you’ll never ever be able to respond to them! Well, I have a response-’ she leans forward ‘Fuck you! Fuck you and fuck your help and advice!’

She was breathing a little harder by the time she’d finished: Maggie was leaning back slightly in her chair.

‘Um…..wow....are you….ok?’

‘Yeah….’

‘....I already wrote a response, you’ll be sad to hear. It was a bit different to yours.’ On the screen, Maggie's finger pointed out her polite, calm message of reply: ‘Thanks for your interest….always appreciate feedback...thanks for listening’.

Joan suddenly felt foolish. Maggie clearly didn’t care that much. What was she even doing, ranting and raving when what Maggie probably wanted was just to forget about it?

She probably wasn’t even all that bothered by it- sure she’d seemed a little off, but Maggie was the absolute pinnacle of taking things on the chin, she’d probably barely registered the thing. Stupid Joan, overreacting; stupid overemotional Joan….

Hic-

Joan had never wanted to die more. Hiccups- was it possible to have a more childish marker of distress?

‘Yeah…..’ She tried to hold her breath surreptitiously and then gave up. ‘Sorry, just….I got cross…’

‘I can see….’ Maggie's lips twitched. ‘Pity whoever wrote that if they come across you, huh?’

‘Yeah….’ Her face was burning. Why was she so stupid? Why couldn't she have just passed over it like Maggie obviously had?

Because you’re thinking about how you’d feel, the little voice in her head responded immediately, because you’re imagining how you’d feel if you got a message like that, how you’ve felt when you have got messages like that- like you don't want to make anything anymore, like you're embarrassed for people to see any of your work-

She shut it down. That was her, not Maggie- cool, collected, talented Maggie. As if Maggie would be affected by a stupid review.

She shook away too the image of Maggie hunched in her chair and staring sadly at the screen. She’d probably imagined most of it.

‘Shall we go get food then?’

As if in evidence of her okay-ness, Maggie almost bounced out of her chair, grabbing her phone from the floor and stuffing her keycard deep into her pocket as she made for the door, Joan trailing behind.

‘Ok-’

‘Where do you want to go?’ Maggie pulled the door firmly. ‘We got pizza the other day, so I’m feeling maybe Thai- or ramen, we haven’t had good ramen in ages-’ She paused. ‘Are you ok?’

‘Yeah.’ Joan nodded quickly. ‘Fine-’

‘Cool- so….maybe ramen? Unless you’re not feeling noodles….also there’s that creepy guy who works there and I think I heard he works extra shifts now so maybe not-’

Half way down the corridor, Maggie suddenly stopped. Joan wondered if she was going to say she’d forgotten something, but instead, she grabbed Joan's hand and squeezed it hard.

‘Joan?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Thank you-’

Joan felt a bit nonplussed. ‘What for?’

Maggie looked at her as if she was an idiot. ‘For….you know….’ She gently bumped her shoulder against Joan’s. ‘For caring enough to get angry on my behalf? For saying fuck a million times- it was funny, cheered me right up-’ Her expression sobered. ‘Just...thanks. I know it’s ridiculous to let some internet random get to me but….yeah.’

She gave Joan’s hand a parting squeeze and let go, straightening up, back to normal again. ‘As you say, fuck them, next time i’ll just let you reply and save myself the trouble…’ Her lips twitched and she tilted her head. ‘Anyway…back to important stuff….food choices and that.’ She looked at Joan ‘Shall we go?’

‘Yeah-’ Joan hid her smile and started down the corridor. ‘Let’s go.’

#I saw the title and I already knew what this was gonna be about #AND SIS YOU SNAPPED #you said what I couldnt!! and it’s all true!!#DRAG EM SIS #okay but actual comments!!#maggie not liking people picking up her things? love that 👌#I also love the bit where joey bites her nails! and then maggie not giving up smoking haha #god the parts where joan defended maggie is so valid and well stated and true and 👌👌👌#I love joan snapping!!#and then her cussing the anon out oh my god #that’s so funny!!!#and maggie being actually pretty shocked #THE HICCUPS!!! YES!!!!#bro put joan’s hiccup tendency in a fic and it automatically becomes good #just some tips 👀#aww joan beating herself up over yelling :( poor baby!#but maggie coming in clutch and making her feet better!! 🥺🥺#AAAA I JUST LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!#THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR SATING MY HUNGER THE BA GIRLS!!#but you know im gonna need more now right? 👀 I crave your writing #not my writing #six breakaway #breakaway joan on the keys #breakaway maggie on the guitar #submission

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