FIC: People Come Around, Entourage, Vince/Eric, Epilogue
Notes in Part 1. Part 6 is back here.
EPILOGUE: The Big Show
Turtle doesn’t have to rent a tux, this time; Vince buys them all nice ones, Dolce for Turtle, Ralph Lauren for Drama, and vintage Armani for himself. E doesn’t get a new tux, though he goes along to the fittings, because he’s not going to the Globes. Watching him watch Vince as he struts around in his tailored tuxedo, Turtle thinks maybe Ari has a point about this one.
They haven’t been outed officially, though the rumors keep circulating. It’s still Vince and E and Turtle in the house - E hasn’t moved out, he’s still Vince’s manager, but they’re being a little more careful. Turtle’s not sure where the pressure’s coming from on that, though neither of the guys really complains about it. Turtle drives Vince to meetings, now, instead of Vince traveling solo with E; Vince isn’t taking a date to the Globes, but E is staying home. Not exactly a perfect tradeoff - Turtle feels bad for E, actually, because he seems to like these industry get-togethers - but everyone seems OK with it.
The morning of the Globes, Turtle goes with Drama while he gets a last-minute manicure. He’s not nominated for anything, but someone from his new show is - best supporting actress in a drama. “It’s important I represent the show in every respect,” he says.
“Can they even dye your eyes to match your gown?” Turtle asks, but soft enough that Drama doesn’t hear it.
They get back to the house and find Vince and E on the couch, making out. “Jesus,” Drama says, “what is this, high school?”
One of E’s hands emerges from under Vince’s shirt, on his back, and flips Drama off. Turtle laughs. “Come on, Vin, it’s time to get ready,” he says.
Vince surfaces kind of slowly. He doesn’t turn away from E, just rests his forehead on E’s for a minute and they whisper, and Turtle feels like he’s really interrupted something intimate. Vince is always clingy, but it’s unusual for E to encourage him. Maybe he’s misread the entire situation. Maybe things aren’t as cool as he thinks. He grabs Drama by the arm and tugs him into the hallway.
“What?” he says.
“Just get ready, man,” Turtle says. He climbs up to his own room and does as he’s been saying. He doesn’t have a date for the evening, either, but he plans to find at least one someone at an after party. He wonders if E’s going to join for those, and then has a sudden sinking feeling that maybe Vince will want to cut out early. Shit, he thinks, and hopes Drama’s fifteen minutes will get him in the doors.
When he gets downstairs, E is still lying on the couch but Vince is gone. “Hey.”
E turns, then smirks. “Hey, nice suit,” he says. “If that doesn’t get you laid, man, nothing’s gonna.”
“Please remember I’ll be in close proximity to Drama all night,” Turtle says, and E laughs. “Hey, you really all right with this all?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” E says. “You know how long it’s been since I had the house to myself?”
“Don’t jerk off on the good pillows, all right?”
Drama joins pretty soon, and a minute after that, Vince walks out. Jesus, but he looks like a movie star, his hair wavy and loose over his black tux and black shirt. His shoes shine like Drama’s nails.
“Limo should be here,” Drama says. “E, make sure you TiVo.”
“No problem,” E says. He doesn’t lift off the couch at all, just waves; Vince bends to kiss him good-bye. “Don’t you come back early, either!” he calls out, and Vince laughs.
They have a table in the front section, which Turtle wants to consider a good sign. He’s been checking the odds online all day: Vince has 3:1 odds to win Best Actor in a Drama, while Leo DiCaprio is running 2:1. Turtle actually thinks Eric Bana is the guy to beat, mostly because he’s heard E say it.
He’s discouraged to see who’s at their table: Ari, his wife, Gavin Hood and his wife, and Vera Farmiga. She would usually be a bright spot, but she has not only her PA boyfriend with her but also her mother. Also, he gets stuck sitting next to Ari, because Vince won’t do it.
The awards themselves are exciting because Turtle has money riding on almost everything. The woman from Drama’s cast wins and Drama whoops a big New York yell that’s actually echoed by at least one other guy. Vera wins best supporting in a drama, and Turtle should make $400 on that.
In between presentations, people bob around, they congratulate each other, they gossip and fawn. Vince doesn’t move around much, and Turtle realizes he’s text messaging during one commercial break. “E?” he asks, and Vince nods, just once, before glancing over to see if Ari’s watching. Ari’s too busy kissing Spielberg’s ass.
Finally, Cate Blanchett comes up to announce Best Actor. Turtle’s nervous. He almost bet on Vince, then decided it was bad luck, a jinx, particularly if he didn’t split the winnings. So he’s got nothing riding on this except wanting to see Vince succeed, and he’s more nervous than he was for the $1000 he had riding on “Curb Your Enthusiasm” for best comedy.
Thing is, it’s a good movie and a great performance. Turtle’s seen enough to know that on his own; he’s heard enough buzz about it to believe people have noticed. E holds this movie up like it’s the golden ticket, and Turtle thinks he’s right to do it. This is Queens Boulevard without foreknowledge of Queens to lean on - in this movie, Turtle knows Vince is acting, though Vince makes it look easy. He thinks the guy deserves an award just for that.
And he gets it. Cate reads the names and then opens the envelope and says, “Vincent Chase!” and Turtle leaps up. Vince is still in his chair, looking a little shell-shocked. He moves back slowly, then stands, and Drama whoops even as he hugs him. Then Vince hugs Turtle, and Turtle says, “I knew it, man, you fucking go and get it!” and Vince laughs and claps him on the back. There’s a hug with Ari and then Vince jogs up to the stage. People are still clapping, and it takes Turtle a second to realize that he should sit down.
Vince holds the Globe in his right hand and says, “Wow, this is - amazing. I’m totally stunned.” He grins his big movie-star grin. “Ah, I need to thank some people. Brian Monticore, for getting this project started. Gavin Hood, a fabulous director, really the heart and soul of the project. Ann Turner at Universal for pushing this, Jim Levin for seeing it through. Everyone on the cast, Vera, Tim, Chris, Benny, Everett, Lisa, Laurie. The crew, who was great, fantastic, the costumers, Mark and Michael. Um, my agent, the incomparable and fierce Ari Gold; my publicist, the equally fierce Shauna Mitchell; my guys, my friends, everyone from back home but mostly my brother, Johnny Chase, and my other brother, basically, Turtle.” Turtle grins and nods. “And - OK, I’ve got one more person to thank, someone who couldn’t be here, tonight. Trust me, you don’t want to start the music.”
“Oh dear God,” Ari whispers, his hand clutching the tablecloth. The smile on his face stays put perfectly.
“There’s been, uh, some stuff written about me, recently, some of it not so nice, some of it not so true. So I wanted to set the record straight, and this seems like a good time to do it, on a network dime.” There’s a bit of nervous laughter; Turtle expects the music to come up any second. But maybe they don’t do that at the Globes. “So who I want to thank, I want to thank Eric Murphy, who’s my manager and my best friend since forever, a guy who moved three thousand miles to make sure I wouldn’t make a fucking fool of myself. And he’s not here tonight because people have been printing that we’re maybe lovers, so give me one second to set the record straight: we are, we absolutely are, and we have been forever. E, I love you, man, and I’m coming straight home after this so we can celebrate. Thank you.”
There’s a flush of silence followed immediately by cheering; people get on their feet and Turtle joins them. He almost doesn’t notice that Ari’s still sitting, and he thinks maybe Ari hasn’t noticed, either, so he nudges him with his fist to Ari’s shoulder. Ari springs up. “That’s my boy!” he crows, suddenly, like it’s a recorded yell of victory. “My fucking star!”
Vince comes back after the next commercial break, and he gets stopped by just about everyone in the room, congratulating him, it seems, though Turtle can’t tell on what. When Vince sits down, he’s glowing. He looks at them and says, “What do you think?”
“You got the clip of the night, bro,” Johnny says, and Vince laughs.
“You talk to E?” Turtle asks. “I mean, beforehand?”
Vince’s smiles just gets wider, which Turtle wouldn’t have thought possible. “He knew,” he says. “Or, I think so - I don’t know if he thought I’d go through with it.” He fishes in his pockets.
“You had this planned?” Ari whispers across Turtle. “Forget about giving E some warning, what about me?”
Vince rolls his eyes. “Settle down, Ari. You had advanced notice, remember?” Vince slides his cell phone to Turtle, and Turtle reads the text message on the screen. It’s from E.
Love u 2. MORON.
Hurry home.
Ari excuses himself to talk to Shauna, Vince hunches up to text E, and Drama tries to catch the eye of some director who’s hovering close to Vince. Turtle takes a sip of his champagne and settles back in his seat. He is, as always, content just to watch.
The end!
EPILOGUE: The Big Show
Turtle doesn’t have to rent a tux, this time; Vince buys them all nice ones, Dolce for Turtle, Ralph Lauren for Drama, and vintage Armani for himself. E doesn’t get a new tux, though he goes along to the fittings, because he’s not going to the Globes. Watching him watch Vince as he struts around in his tailored tuxedo, Turtle thinks maybe Ari has a point about this one.
They haven’t been outed officially, though the rumors keep circulating. It’s still Vince and E and Turtle in the house - E hasn’t moved out, he’s still Vince’s manager, but they’re being a little more careful. Turtle’s not sure where the pressure’s coming from on that, though neither of the guys really complains about it. Turtle drives Vince to meetings, now, instead of Vince traveling solo with E; Vince isn’t taking a date to the Globes, but E is staying home. Not exactly a perfect tradeoff - Turtle feels bad for E, actually, because he seems to like these industry get-togethers - but everyone seems OK with it.
The morning of the Globes, Turtle goes with Drama while he gets a last-minute manicure. He’s not nominated for anything, but someone from his new show is - best supporting actress in a drama. “It’s important I represent the show in every respect,” he says.
“Can they even dye your eyes to match your gown?” Turtle asks, but soft enough that Drama doesn’t hear it.
They get back to the house and find Vince and E on the couch, making out. “Jesus,” Drama says, “what is this, high school?”
One of E’s hands emerges from under Vince’s shirt, on his back, and flips Drama off. Turtle laughs. “Come on, Vin, it’s time to get ready,” he says.
Vince surfaces kind of slowly. He doesn’t turn away from E, just rests his forehead on E’s for a minute and they whisper, and Turtle feels like he’s really interrupted something intimate. Vince is always clingy, but it’s unusual for E to encourage him. Maybe he’s misread the entire situation. Maybe things aren’t as cool as he thinks. He grabs Drama by the arm and tugs him into the hallway.
“What?” he says.
“Just get ready, man,” Turtle says. He climbs up to his own room and does as he’s been saying. He doesn’t have a date for the evening, either, but he plans to find at least one someone at an after party. He wonders if E’s going to join for those, and then has a sudden sinking feeling that maybe Vince will want to cut out early. Shit, he thinks, and hopes Drama’s fifteen minutes will get him in the doors.
When he gets downstairs, E is still lying on the couch but Vince is gone. “Hey.”
E turns, then smirks. “Hey, nice suit,” he says. “If that doesn’t get you laid, man, nothing’s gonna.”
“Please remember I’ll be in close proximity to Drama all night,” Turtle says, and E laughs. “Hey, you really all right with this all?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” E says. “You know how long it’s been since I had the house to myself?”
“Don’t jerk off on the good pillows, all right?”
Drama joins pretty soon, and a minute after that, Vince walks out. Jesus, but he looks like a movie star, his hair wavy and loose over his black tux and black shirt. His shoes shine like Drama’s nails.
“Limo should be here,” Drama says. “E, make sure you TiVo.”
“No problem,” E says. He doesn’t lift off the couch at all, just waves; Vince bends to kiss him good-bye. “Don’t you come back early, either!” he calls out, and Vince laughs.
They have a table in the front section, which Turtle wants to consider a good sign. He’s been checking the odds online all day: Vince has 3:1 odds to win Best Actor in a Drama, while Leo DiCaprio is running 2:1. Turtle actually thinks Eric Bana is the guy to beat, mostly because he’s heard E say it.
He’s discouraged to see who’s at their table: Ari, his wife, Gavin Hood and his wife, and Vera Farmiga. She would usually be a bright spot, but she has not only her PA boyfriend with her but also her mother. Also, he gets stuck sitting next to Ari, because Vince won’t do it.
The awards themselves are exciting because Turtle has money riding on almost everything. The woman from Drama’s cast wins and Drama whoops a big New York yell that’s actually echoed by at least one other guy. Vera wins best supporting in a drama, and Turtle should make $400 on that.
In between presentations, people bob around, they congratulate each other, they gossip and fawn. Vince doesn’t move around much, and Turtle realizes he’s text messaging during one commercial break. “E?” he asks, and Vince nods, just once, before glancing over to see if Ari’s watching. Ari’s too busy kissing Spielberg’s ass.
Finally, Cate Blanchett comes up to announce Best Actor. Turtle’s nervous. He almost bet on Vince, then decided it was bad luck, a jinx, particularly if he didn’t split the winnings. So he’s got nothing riding on this except wanting to see Vince succeed, and he’s more nervous than he was for the $1000 he had riding on “Curb Your Enthusiasm” for best comedy.
Thing is, it’s a good movie and a great performance. Turtle’s seen enough to know that on his own; he’s heard enough buzz about it to believe people have noticed. E holds this movie up like it’s the golden ticket, and Turtle thinks he’s right to do it. This is Queens Boulevard without foreknowledge of Queens to lean on - in this movie, Turtle knows Vince is acting, though Vince makes it look easy. He thinks the guy deserves an award just for that.
And he gets it. Cate reads the names and then opens the envelope and says, “Vincent Chase!” and Turtle leaps up. Vince is still in his chair, looking a little shell-shocked. He moves back slowly, then stands, and Drama whoops even as he hugs him. Then Vince hugs Turtle, and Turtle says, “I knew it, man, you fucking go and get it!” and Vince laughs and claps him on the back. There’s a hug with Ari and then Vince jogs up to the stage. People are still clapping, and it takes Turtle a second to realize that he should sit down.
Vince holds the Globe in his right hand and says, “Wow, this is - amazing. I’m totally stunned.” He grins his big movie-star grin. “Ah, I need to thank some people. Brian Monticore, for getting this project started. Gavin Hood, a fabulous director, really the heart and soul of the project. Ann Turner at Universal for pushing this, Jim Levin for seeing it through. Everyone on the cast, Vera, Tim, Chris, Benny, Everett, Lisa, Laurie. The crew, who was great, fantastic, the costumers, Mark and Michael. Um, my agent, the incomparable and fierce Ari Gold; my publicist, the equally fierce Shauna Mitchell; my guys, my friends, everyone from back home but mostly my brother, Johnny Chase, and my other brother, basically, Turtle.” Turtle grins and nods. “And - OK, I’ve got one more person to thank, someone who couldn’t be here, tonight. Trust me, you don’t want to start the music.”
“Oh dear God,” Ari whispers, his hand clutching the tablecloth. The smile on his face stays put perfectly.
“There’s been, uh, some stuff written about me, recently, some of it not so nice, some of it not so true. So I wanted to set the record straight, and this seems like a good time to do it, on a network dime.” There’s a bit of nervous laughter; Turtle expects the music to come up any second. But maybe they don’t do that at the Globes. “So who I want to thank, I want to thank Eric Murphy, who’s my manager and my best friend since forever, a guy who moved three thousand miles to make sure I wouldn’t make a fucking fool of myself. And he’s not here tonight because people have been printing that we’re maybe lovers, so give me one second to set the record straight: we are, we absolutely are, and we have been forever. E, I love you, man, and I’m coming straight home after this so we can celebrate. Thank you.”
There’s a flush of silence followed immediately by cheering; people get on their feet and Turtle joins them. He almost doesn’t notice that Ari’s still sitting, and he thinks maybe Ari hasn’t noticed, either, so he nudges him with his fist to Ari’s shoulder. Ari springs up. “That’s my boy!” he crows, suddenly, like it’s a recorded yell of victory. “My fucking star!”
Vince comes back after the next commercial break, and he gets stopped by just about everyone in the room, congratulating him, it seems, though Turtle can’t tell on what. When Vince sits down, he’s glowing. He looks at them and says, “What do you think?”
“You got the clip of the night, bro,” Johnny says, and Vince laughs.
“You talk to E?” Turtle asks. “I mean, beforehand?”
Vince’s smiles just gets wider, which Turtle wouldn’t have thought possible. “He knew,” he says. “Or, I think so - I don’t know if he thought I’d go through with it.” He fishes in his pockets.
“You had this planned?” Ari whispers across Turtle. “Forget about giving E some warning, what about me?”
Vince rolls his eyes. “Settle down, Ari. You had advanced notice, remember?” Vince slides his cell phone to Turtle, and Turtle reads the text message on the screen. It’s from E.
Love u 2. MORON.
Hurry home.
Ari excuses himself to talk to Shauna, Vince hunches up to text E, and Drama tries to catch the eye of some director who’s hovering close to Vince. Turtle takes a sip of his champagne and settles back in his seat. He is, as always, content just to watch.
The end!