the last shot: part iv-a
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Language
| blossoming |
September.
It had been ten months.
Filming for The Social Network had ended around the beginning of December, give or take a few days. When they decided they didn’t need us anymore, they booked the remainder of the cast still near the studio a flight back home while they did all the technical work on their own. The last time I had ever seen Jesse was the morning I went on a plane to England and he to New York City to go home to his family. Not surprisingly, it was one of the longest flights I ever had to endure. I swear I must’ve gone through my collection of Arcade Fire at least a dozen times. No matter how much I love them, listening to Wake Up on repeat could actually get old after hearing it about twenty-six times with nothing else to do.
Bending down, my hand reached to grab my carry-on bag stowed beneath the seat in front of me. Picking it up and lightly placing it on my lap, I yawned silently and started to unzip. I didn’t need to worry about waking up the man beside me; he was already in an extremely deep sleep. I don’t even think us crashing or a mariachi band in his face would have disturbed his slumber.
After pushing an extra day of clothes aside - once, Jesse advised me that luggage could always be lost, so be prepared for everything and anything - I finally found a book I had been meaning to dive into called Patrimony by Philip Roth. To be quite honest, I only wanted to read it because Jesse had raved about it, over and over, and four hours into the plane ride, I was already homesick, so I figured why not.
However, something lime green was stuck on the front; with my brows scrunched in concentration, I carefully pulled out the novel, only to discover that the object planted on my book was a sticky-note.
It read:
I could feel my throat closing up and the back of my eyes stirring with emotion, but I simply left the sticky note on the cover and ran my thumb over the pen marks. Not seeing him was going to be the hardest task of all, but I was determined to keep in touch with him, even if it meant begging him to get a webcam for his laptop that he rarely uses.
Managing to pull a shaky breath inward, I opened the cover and began to read the first chapter. In my head, I read it in a way Jesse would have read it to me, and for now, everything was okay.
***
“Hello?”
“Jesse?”
“This is he.”
“It’s Andrew,” I breathed out with my heart barely stable in my chest.
This was the first time I managed to call Jesse without having a near spastic attack because I was so damn excited to phone him. Two months had passed since the flight back to England and time had consumed me more than I had ever anticipated it to. I was planning on sulking and watching television the whole time, but there was barely any time to actually sit around. Shannon wound up surprising me two weeks after I had gotten home, so you can imagine that I spent loads of time with her. She felt like we needed to ‘reconnect’ and rekindle our relationship after it had been slightly severed from our projects, and don’t get me wrong, I missed her, too, but what we once had… I wasn’t really sure. Something was missing and I couldn’t put my finger on what. In addition to Shannon, I spent a ton of time with my family to make up the past months of filming. Now I finally had a chance to sit down and call Jesse.
Of course, calling him alone was scary enough. It had been almost two months since I returned his calls; apparently he had called the week after the flight and the week after that, but I wound up losing track of time. I was half convinced that calling him back a month and a half later was a really bad idea. What if he didn’t even want to speak to me anymore? I could certainly understand why he wouldn’t. I would be mad at me, too.
Still, I needed to try.
Waiting for his answer, I heard a slight crinkle before his voice wavered. “Andrew?”
“Yeah, mate, it’s me.” My heart was nearly in my throat. “How’re you?”
“I… I’m alright, I guess, I just got done feeding my cats- Wait, isn’t it late for you there?”
“The time on the clock says three in the morning.”
“And you’re still calling me?”
The innocence in his voice made a goofy smile appear on my face. “Of course I’m still calling you. It’s not like I have a bloody bedtime.”
“I know, but it’s late,” he replied. “How have you been? I was starting to get… to get worried that something happened to you.”
“I’ve been…” Trailing off, I sighed heavily and pressed the phone closer to my ear, desperate to get closer to him. “I’ve been really busy, Jesse, and before we talk anymore, if we talk anymore-”
“What do you mean if?” Jesse interrupted in a very jittery voice.
Confused, I slowly pleaded my case. “Well, Jess, I haven’t exactly called you like I should have the past two months.”
“But you’ve been busy.”
“That’s still no excuse to not call you, I promised.”
“I’m just happy to hear you now,” he argued with a light huff of air. “It’s really… really nice to hear you, Andrew. Um, have you heard anything about the film?"
“Not really. Hey- I, uh, I auditioned for something.” I swear, I could feel him pull that quizzical on his face.
“Auditioned?”
“Yeah.”
“For a movie?”
“Yup.”
“What one?”
Yeah, ‘what one’ was definitely the question to ask. Taking in a deep breath, I tried to keep from smiling too hard. Pacing back and forth in my bedroom, I ran a hand through my hair and shook my head. “I actually went out and auditioned for the new Spiderman installment.”
“Sp- Spiderman?!” Jesse asked incredulously. “Are you serious?”
“As serious as I will ever be, Jesse.”
Silence took over his end, but then he started laughing. “You would be a great Spiderman.”
That was the last thing I had expected from him. My head even reared backwards, stunned. “Seriously, me, a superhero?”
“Well, why not, you have the charisma of a superhero and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have the physique for it, either,” he reasoned bluntly.
Grinning, I let out a small chuckle and nodded, not like he could see it anyway, but it made no difference. “I’m glad you think that.”
We went on for hours as usual about things that didn’t matter, things that did, things that made absolutely no sense, serious things, sad things, anything that came to mind. It wasn’t uncommon for us to spend an entire night conversing. A couple of times I even fell asleep and woke up to Jesse questioning a cat on the other line. There was no other way I would want to wake up.
Jesse and I talked a couple times on the phone after that, but, you could say, we were starting to experience ‘long-distance relationship’ problems. No matter how many times talking was planned, it was extremely hard to catch one another for calls that lasted more than five minutes. A convenient time for me meant an unreachable time for him and vice versa. As time went on, our calls became less and less frequent to the point where there was no call exchange at all.
Without Jesse, you can imagine, was hard. I had everyone in the world, really, at my side, but it wasn’t the same. At the most populated times, I felt like I had nothing. Every day it got a little easier, not seeing or hearing from him. After a while, the painful ache in my chest whenever something reminded me of him went dull; the things that once triggered memories were not as prominent in my life. I tried keeping myself busy by hanging out with friends, visiting family functions, anything I could think of to keep my mind occupied. Still, there were those moments where I couldn’t handle pretending.
A knock on the door woke me up from the couch one night. Despite being half asleep, I managed to crawl off the couch and drag my body to the door. Peeking through the peephole, I woke up in an instant, undid the lock, and opened the door with one hand while the other hand rubbed the sleep from my eye.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it over sooner, Andrew. I got your text when I was grocery shopping and- were you asleep?” the voice asked. Attempting to smile, I shook my head in disbelief. Of course she would be all dressed up for grocery shopping. If there was one person in the universe who always looked like a pixie princess, even when doing the boring deeds of everyday life, it was Carey.
“Sorry, I was busy and tired so I feel asleep,” I reasoned and took a step behind the door, subconsciously inviting her in. Carey smiled, rolled her eyes, and took a step inside.
“Sure looks like you were busy. When’s the last time you cleaned this bloody house?” she teased before leaning in to pull me into a hug. Gladly, I reciprocated the gesture, but what I hadn’t realized was the grip I had holding her back. “God Andrew, are you trying to crush me?”
Sheepishly, I took note of my roughness and carefully let her go. “Sorry, guess I just missed you a lot.”
There was no point in trying to fool Carey. She watched me, her face playfully skeptic yet serious all the same. She believed otherwise. “No, there’s something else bothering you, Drew. C’mon, let’s put on some tea and you can tell me what’s going on.”
“Carey, nothing’s going on,” I reassured her as I disappeared into my kitchen to put on some hot water. “Am I not allowed to miss you?”
“Well, no, but it’s evident. You miss someone else, it’s in the way you said it,” she countered, catching me while she walked behind me to follow suit. “Have you and Shannon been alright?”
“We’ve been ace, Carey, really, nothing is wrong.”
“But there is and you won’t tell me,” She interrupted in a soft yet pleading voice. I heard a scuffle on the floor from her heels before feeling a hand on my shoulder. “What is it, Andrew? You know you can trust me.”
“I know.”
“With anything.”
“I know.”
“I will listen.”
I said nothing. The poor kettle in my fist was probably about ready to shatter with the iron-clad grip I squeezed it with. Carey was silent, waiting for my answer, until I heard a sympathetic murmur.
“It’s Jesse, isn’t it?”
Her question came out more as a statement, like there was no swaying her, and all I could do was nod, very slowly. Her hand left my shoulder, but instead of leavening me, it lightly patted my hand, now white-knuckled, holding the kettle. “C’mon, darling, let’s go sit down and we can forget the tea.”
Unable to fight her, I allowed her to navigate me through my kitchen to the living room. Both of us sat on my couch, though I had forgotten I even sat down in the first place until she started speaking again. Her hand was lightly running over my back in an attempt to comfort me, but there was no use. My body was numb and in a totally different dimension.
“When’s the last time you’ve talked to him, love?”
“Four months,” I muttered. “It’s been four months.”
“And no call?”
“No call.”
“Not even a text?”
“He doesn’t own an international phone.”
“I think you need to call him if it’s that bad, love.”
“Jesse would have called if he wanted to talk.”
Carey stopped rubbing my back and looked me in the eye. “Now you and I both know that isn’t true.” The look in her eye told me something else was going to be brought up.
“What?”
“You… this isn’t just a friendship, is it?”
I swallowed the rock lodged in my throat. This was the one question I had been asking myself for a very, very long time now, though it tortured me to think too long about it. Questioning my feelings for Jesse was almost absurd, almost inappropriate. How could anyone seriously wonder if their friendship with a co-star was anything more, especially in our circumstances, in mine? Jesse had wound up becoming my best friend on-screen and off, someone I could always talk to and count on. I was never bored of him, and fighting was a rarity. Weren’t they standard policies for the concept of a best friend, though? At most, we could - oh, god, I hated thinking about this term - be considered a ‘bromance’, but anything more than that…
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I responded after a pause. To my dismay, Carey remained still and intent on an answer.
A beat passed. “Andrew.”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
Sighing, annoyed, I craned my neck to obey her command. As if on cue, her eyebrow rose accusingly. The are-you-kidding-me expression on her face only forced me to continue wearing my poker face.
“Are you in love with him?”
“Are you seriously asking me thi-”
“Are you in love with Jesse?”
“Carey, you sound crazy,” I reasoned, though my voice left me shaken for a second. Starting to get anxious, I leaped up from the couch and shoved my hands in my jean pockets as I started to pace back and forth behind the glass coffee table. “Why would I be in love with him? He’s my best friend, for Christ sakes.”
“Because you haven’t denied it yet.” Her eyes followed me from the couch and she stared at me, hard. Her reasoning had caught me off guard and my pacing stopped. Turning to face her, my eyes betrayed me; I must’ve looked like a deer caught in headlights. I could have sworn my heart stopped beating for a moment. When she knew she had my full attention, she continued in a soft voice. “If you didn’t love him, you would have flat out told me no, but you decided to argue with me. Instead of denying it to me, you’re denying it to yourself.”
Something inside of me was screaming to be let out. Somehow I felt numb and, at the same time, I felt a surge of fear hit me. I didn’t deny it. When she asked me a simple yes or no question, I went on a tangent of things that meant nothing instead of actually answering the question. Going over the last minute in my head, I replayed my responses and quickly a sense of dread overwhelmed me. I couldn’t handle this. So I wondered if Jesse and I had something… special… but this was the first time I ever let a different question process through:
Was I in love with Jesse?
“I’d rather not talk about this, Carey,” I whispered. My eyes were glued to the floor, and I felt more uncomfortable in my own shoes than ever. Clearly her intention was not to upset me, but her words continued to echo through my head. You didn’t deny it.
“Andrew-”
“Carey, I don’t… Can you please just go?” I quietly asked. With my head still facing the floor, I took in a deep breath and decided to man up and look her in the eye. I immediately regretted doing so. She was still sitting on my couch, her face sad and mouth open like she was about to say something to convince me to let her stay. Even she knew that she crossed a line I hadn’t even thought of drawing yet.
“I’m sorry, Andrew, I didn’t mean to…” Trailing off, she knew not of what to say, so she simply nodded and smiled sympathetically towards me. “Yeah, I’ll go now.”
Hesitantly standing up from the couch, Carey smoothed out her dress and fixed her hair before walking around the table to give me a goodbye hug. Because my head was on another cloud, I barely hugged back and didn’t even really notice she was gone until my door slammed shut, leaving me in my living room alone with the most puzzled look on my face.
With a gate of a zombie, I moved to my bathroom and pulled the ‘cold’ sink handle towards me to get the water going. I splashed a bit against my face, cooling my mind, but then I took note of my reflection prior to patting my face dry. I never denied it, not for one second. Gazing off to the side, my palms took hold of either side of the sink, and I leaned against it for dear life. Not that I felt sick or anything, but I was so freaking confused as I contemplated Carey’s argument. Missing your best friend was normal, wanting to do everything for them was normal, but was what I felt for Jesse normal?
My mind was made up:
I needed to see him.
***
The date was July 2, 2010.
In my hand was a ticket for a six a.m. flight to New York City. Everything was planned, packed up and ready to go. After a week or so of contemplating Carey’s idea, I decided to take it to the next level. There was always that option of calling him, but that wasn’t a sincere enough apology. Instead of calling, I came to the conclusion that the only way to cure this was to see him, face to face, as fast as possible. The way to cure that was to take the first plane I could find to New York.
The smart thing would have been to tell Jesse that I was coming so he didn’t freak out if his home wasn’t cleaned up, but I was too wrapped up in the idea of surprising him that I never took it into consideration. I told a few friends, like Carey, and they all swore it was a terribly impulsive idea, but I was on top of the world. All that mattered was seeing him. The hotel was already booked and all my best clothes were in my luggage. My carry-on bag was still in question and totally empty, but everything I was bringing on the plane was already set up besides it; all I needed to do was organize.
My iPod was charging on the alarm stand as I was busy skimming through Patrimony when my phone buzzed loudly against the wooden nightstand by my bed. Hesitantly, I picked it up and tilted the screen to see who was calling. “Magneto” was the title of the caller- oh, I named my agent Magneto on my phone after a conversation I had overheard one day. It was an on-going joke, I guess, with myself.
Tossing the cellular device up in the air, I caught it, pressed ‘Accept’ and leaned back in bed with the phone against my ear. “Hello?”
“Andrew, you got it.”
Well, that sure was specific. “Got what?”
“You. Congrats, kiddo, you’re Peter Parker. You’re the new Spiderman.”
I practically vomited out of pure alarm. “I- I what?”
“Well, don’t act too excited so quickly,” he teased with a chuckle.
I was at a loss, a complete and utter loss, for words. For a second there I forgot that I even had lungs and how to breathe. My hand practically crushed my phone from trying to grasp onto the concept that I got the part. I got the role of a lifetime, I was Spiderman.
“Andrew?” A voice called to bring me back to earth.
“Yeah? Oh, uh, sorry, wow, I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, you better get ready for the press, that’s what you should do. They want interviews pronto,” he told me. “In the States, people are going nuts about this announcement; they want to see the new face representing their masked wonder.” I could feel my palms grow sweaty. “When the earliest you can get to LA? Entertainment Weekly wants to interview you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? My eyes stared down at the plane ticket still resting my other hand limp on the sheets. If he meant tomorrow, that would mean I would have to get on a plane in a couple of hours to get to LA in time to be well rested for the interview. That only meant…
“I… I sort of had plans already to go to New York for a week, I already bought the tickets, are they really going that crazy? Can’t… Can’t they pick another date rather than tomo-”
“You’re kidding me, right? Andrew, this is huge for you. Whatever is in New York can wait and you know it. This is a role of a lifetime; you are going to be the newest face for one of the most iconic superheroes in history. Please tell me you’re not already passing it up.” He sighed. “Do you know how that’s going to look?”
Still, my eyes stared down at the plane ticket in my hand. There was my ticket to everything I wanted, to seeing him, but now there was no way I could. My impulsive, you-can’t-stop-me ride had skid to an abrupt halt, and I swallowed with regret. Duty called, and I couldn’t back out of this, no matter how much I missed Jesse. Biting my lower lip, my hand slowly clamped around the ticket, crumpling it down to nothing.
“So?”
“I’ll change my flight as soon as possible,” I murmured in the phone, only to hang up and toss my phone away from me before he could answer. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I bent my elbows and leaned my head in frustration into my hands. This was supposed to be a happy moment, something that I would be proud of, but I could barely think of anything else. Calling him and telling him what I was going to do would have only made it worse for both of us; I was sure, so I refused to call. Instead, I picked the phone back up, and spent an hour changing my flight to Los Angeles in a couple of hours rather than New York. I felt on-edge now as I realized that now instead of appearing anonymously at Jesse’s house, I would now be in front of thousands of fans of a comic book series to tell them that I was their new face. It was the most mind-numbing thought I had ever encountered.
Once the call was done, I dropped it beside me and picked up the Roth book once more and flipped through a couple of pages. I blinked out the angry tears threatening to spill out as I attempted to read the words, but they came out in my head as mere shouts of rage.
I should have left sooner.
Then again, I should have done a lot I didn’t do.
***
The next three months had been dominated by web-slinging publicity.
Yet, through the celebrations, the readings, and the overtime in shooting, a bigger picture was looming over me: The Social Network was going to be premiering. In fact, the movie premiere was in less than twenty-four hours, and, needless to say, I was more than ecstatic. I had only seen the full preview once, I couldn’t believe how great it looked on screen, and I was so busy with all the Spiderman business that I never had time to actually pay attention to the latest news in anything else. My co-star, Emma, though, was pretty up-to-date and would lightly make comment on the buzz she saw in the internet. Plus, she was not only my co-star, but she was once Jesse’s, so I guess… well, this is how she put it:
“Basically, I’m in the movie, too,” Emma said one time we were off the set next to her trailer eating some Chinese.
“You’re in it?” I repeated in a muffled voice as I ate and picked around with my chopsticks.
“Well, yeah, I mean, I’ve starred with you and I’ve starred with freaking Zuckerberg, so technically I’m a part of this film, too. I think Mr. Fincher should put my name on it somewhere.” Her hands raised above her face as she wiped the air with them. “Special appearance by Emma Stone, the one who starred with both goobers in two totally different films.”
“Technically they’re both action,” I teased with a smirk.
Emma made a face and shrugged. “Yeah, well, I kinda just wanted my name at the end. It would be a major ego-boost if people actually built up a controversy saying I really wasn’t there, but I can dream, can’t I?”
“You’re insane is what you are.” Laughing, I tilted my head back and allowed the noodles to drop into my mouth.
“It’s better than being boring,” she countered, but smiled and went back to eating.
Yet, today was the day. Not just any day, but the day that I would finally get to see my co-stars again and see my work. The Social Network was premiering on the twenty-fourth of September, and I was busy scrambling around to get ready after my tiring flight to New York. I had spent most of the day in my hotel room, preparing for this night. Every so often I texted Emma and she sent back stupid premiere trivia facts, like what went wrong on some nights or wacky pictures of wardrobe malfunction. Apparently Dolce & Gabbana had been a ‘suburb’ choice, or so she thought. I had actually invited her along since Shannon was unable to attend, but she said she had a date with Dawson’s Creek tonight, but to give Jesse love and support. My heart nearly leaped into my throat at the name. It wasn’t long before I’d see him.
Once it was time to hop into the car, I quickly rushed in from my hotel room and waited in the backseat. I was completely content with sitting in the passenger seat, of course, but I got yelled at by assigned driver in a language I didn’t understand and awkwardly shuffled to the back. Well, welcome to New York, I guess.
I couldn’t tell you how much my knee jumped around like a possessed entity around the back seat of the car. My eyes were glancing at scattered buildings behind the glass, but I took no comfort in the soft, elevator-like music the driver was playing. Neither of us spoke the entire trip; that or I never heard him speak since I was so far off in my own little world. Constantly, my head came up with different scenarios. Would Jesse be even happy to see me there? God, I hoped so. The other scenario made my stomach lurch in pure fear; there was always that possibility that he could just ignore my existence and claim we weren’t friends anymore because of my neglect. The very thought of it made my heart break.
Still, it was now or never when the car came to a sudden halt and the flashing of lights nearly blinded me even with the tinted windows.
“We are here,” he announced. “Enjoy, Mr. Garfield.”
Offering a light but nervous smile, I nodded to the rear view mirror. “Thanks.” And with that, I opened the car door and stepped out to a blinding set of flashing lights aiming right at me. I heard several shouts of my name, and I simply shoved my hand in my pocket and started walking over to where my agent was. Alright, pictures were dazzling, but I was on a mission.
“Well, damn, don’t you look great,” my agent complimented once I finally reached him on the carpet. Several interviewers were screaming my name while the flashes still went, but my eyes were looking elsewhere.
“Thanks.”
“C’mon, turn around.” Obeying, I took my hand out of my pocket and stood in front of the cameras, allowing them to get their quick seconds of shots before I felt a tap on my shoulder. I swear, I won’t be able to see a bloody thing when I’m about sixty years old.
“Where is he?” I immediately asked once we started walking.
“Where’s who?” He asked, confused. Sitting here asking him, though, was wasting time. Moving past him, I lightly placed a hand on his shoulder before striding forward to search around. I skipped the majority of the cameras - it’s not like they wouldn’t have more group photos on a later date - and snaked my way through the swarms of people crowding around the doors. I turned to look back since I was afraid that I had missed him, but I could hear that oh, so familiar voice a mere few feet in front of me.
“…oh, well, you know, this is exciting and all since I can go home after this and just spend time with my cats, but overall this experience so far has been absolutely exhilarating and, uh, fun.”
I could barely contain myself; standing here, waiting for him to finish his interview was probably one of the hardest things I was ever forced to do. I couldn’t see him yet, but I knew he was somewhere close, so I continued to push through the heavy masses for just that one chance to get a glimpse of him.
That’s when the curly mop of hair came into view and I immediately went for it.
With several ‘excuse me’s and pardons flowing from my mouth like a broken record player, I weaved in and out through the crowds until I could actually see his face. He looked amazing in that suit and tie; it nearly left me breathless and I could feel my eyes playing a game of tug o’ war with my tear ducts. He was just about to leave the interviewer, shaking their hand and thanking them back, when he turned in my direction and casually looked about the crowd. I stared in awe with my jaw slightly ajar. As his eyes scanned lazily through the masses, his eyes locked on mine before simply passing them, but then his head whipped back and his eyes were totally stuck on mine. A look of complete shock had overcome his face, and I felt the urge to break out into a sprint and hold him in my arms. Yet, I stood there, silently begging for a subconscious approval. At first he did nothing, but soon, a smile began to creep onto his face, sealing my fate. I broke out into stride to get to him, and he, too, started walking at a faster pace backwards on the carpet towards me. My heart was running in its own race and my hands were practically breaking out into an anxious sweat, but three, two, one more step and-
Without hesitation, I felt arms wrap around me, and I reciprocated the gesture whole-heartedly. My grip could have probably crushed his entire torso, but he didn’t complain and, instead, hugged me harder. The press was busy looking at other scenes, it seemed, because the moment was one of the most intimate memories of my life. I felt like the world only revolved around Jesse and I, holding one another close, enjoying each other like old times. The way this moment had turned out was much better than I could have ever expected; it literally took everything in me not to cry in his hair, which I gingerly laid my head upon as I took in his scent, god, that scent I could never get enough of and missed so dearly.
“Is that really you?” I squeaked as I impulsively ran a hand through his hair, unable to keep myself from not doing it. Luckily for me, people were busy catching other stars attending the premiere to pay attention to my reunion with Jesse.
Jesse sort of let out a tiny laugh and pulled away from me, his eyes shining. This was so much better than I had ever anticipated this to be. It took everything in me not to lightly run my hand over his face, just to make sure I wasn’t in some sort of surreal dream. I made myself look like a crazy maniac, but I was so blinded by so much happiness that I didn’t even notice. My arms fell from him, but my gaze said everything, all my emotions, just everything I was ever feeling at that moment in time.
“Yeah, surprisingly, it is me in one piece,” he joked. His smile got weaker as he contemplated whether or not that was even funny to joke about.
Shaking my head, I noticed the smile plastered on my face was beginning to really ache. “Jesse, wow, I am just… Can we go off to the side for a minute?”
“Sure, sure,” I quickly responded. Before leaving, though, I looked back out at the crowd to make sure no wandering eyes were following. Luckily Armie was giving them a show with his wife by pulling off James Bond poses and being the charming man that he was that the media was all over him. I’d have to thank him later for distracting them. Easily, we slipped away into the building and off to a hallway that seemed to be deserted. When he stopped, I took a moment to look back; there was no way you could see us from the end of the hall, so mentally, we were alone.
“Andrew-”
“Jesse, I’m so sorry,” I blurted out, totally disregarding whatever he was about to say. He seemed confused, like he hadn’t expected an apology, so I kept going. “I should have come to see you, like I promised. I promised that I would come and visit you and I screwed up, immensely, and I can’t take that time back, but you have to believe me when I say I am so very unbelievably sorry for not being a good enough friend.”
When he said nothing and merely stared with a blank expression, I began to feel it was too late. Swallowing my fears, I nodded and bit my lower lip. If it were me, I guess apologies a half a year later, too, would be unforgivable. “I really am sorry, Jesse. I, um, I got you this.”
I fumbled through my suit jacket pockets before finding the little slip of paper that had been pressed out from crumpling it on an earlier date. The piece of paper was the British Airways ticket that read “TO: NEW YORK CITY”, the one I had originally schedule for July 2. Smoothing it out with my shaking hand, I held it out for him to see. Jesse, who didn’t really do much at all, simply leaned forward a bit, his eyes widening as he read through the text on the ticket.
“I bought a plane ticket, to see you, in July. It was supposed to be a surprise,” I narrated, stammering every few words. Letting a shaken breath pass my lips, I explained further. “I got busy, y’know? And, and, and I tried really hard to come see you and to call but then something would always come up. So, so I made myself go online and purchase a ticket to New York to surprise you. I know you hate surprises and I know you’re not a big fan of random visits because you’re paranoid about coming to the door or whatever, but I really needed to see you and I figured if you didn’t know I was coming you would forgive me more, but now as I say my ridiculous logic out loud it seems like such a bloody awful idea.”
Jesse still said nothing, but he lightly took the ticket from my hand to examine it more closely. “You bought this to see me?” His eyes never left the slip of paper.
“Yeah, but then I got the call-”
“-to be Spiderman,” he finished for me. Finally, his eyes lifted to lock onto mine, glassy and absolutely surprised, and my heart nearly skipped a beat.
“I’m so sorry, Jesse,” I managed to croak, my own eyes now filling up with tears at the very sight of him standing there with that plane ticket that had meant so much to me in the summer. “I really am, truly, incredibly s-”
But a pair of arms engulfed my body. The hold was nearly constricting my airways, but when I looked down to see the mop of curls in my face, I was pretty content with my face turning blue. Reciprocating the hug, I held him close and slightly swayed, burying my face in his hair.
“I missed you, and you don’t need to apologize for anything, just as long as you’re here now and you don’t go anywhere,” he said, his voice muffled as his face pressed against my chest.
Breathing out in relief, I sniffed and nodded, biting my lower lip to keep from crying. “I’m not going anywhere, mate, promise.”
What I didn’t hear from the end of the hall automatically, though, were feet stepping away from us, a halt, and then steps coming towards us. Both of us practically jumped out of our skin from the surprise of another voice chiming in.
“Jesse, we have to start going inside no-Oh.”
The two of us leaped off one another when the other person came into play, and we both played it off entirely too awkwardly, but apparently Jesse already knew who it was interrupting our little moment. I was annoyed, yeah, but when I looked up to see who it was after I had smoothed out my suit, I felt a slight pang of irritation in my chest.
Jesse, too, smoothed out his suit, ran his fingers through his hair, and turned to answer the figure. “Yeah, uh, we’ll be right there, Justin.” And he turned to me and gave me a weak yet genuinely shy smile. My eyes were still transfixed on Justin at the far end of the hallway. His suit jacket was already missing and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, giving him a casual aura, though his face was hard and his jaw, from what I could see, was tense. Instead of looking at Jesse, he looked at me with a look of half surprise, half distaste.
On the set of The Social Network, Justin and I had played rivals, though it seemed to have bubbled over onto our real lives, as well. We were never necessarily pals on the set and he mostly kept to himself, though he did become a fan of Jesse. Jesse, being as oblivious to the world as he was at times and despite his self-proclaimed anti-social ways, was always up to talking to someone, and Justin did try, but in the end Jesse would leave to go find me. When the two were together for a day or so, Justin seemed… well, he seemed a tad possessive over Jesse, and I didn’t appreciate that in the slightest. It was as though in real life we were trying to compete for Jesse’s friendship, and it was a concept I could never fully grasp.
Still, he didn’t wait for us to come with him and instead turned on his heel and left without us. Jesse simply shrugged and started walking; I trailed right along behind him. The crowds were already massive, so navigating them was a total bitch. I tried to remain close to Jesse’s footsteps while slightly waving to random people waving at me and calling my name, never bothering to check who they were. In a delayed moment, I had realize that it didn’t really matter who else was in the room; Jesse was right there, and quite honestly, that was all that truly counted.
Throughout the night, we were inseparable. To make up for the lack of time we had in nearly an entire year, I stuck by his side every minute. For the most part, he seemed composed and calm with a light and happy air about him; whatever mood he had, I seemed to receive it secondhand, leaving me in a happy-go-lucky high. Every so often, Jesse would peer back behind his shoulder; when it registered that I was still behind him, a tiny smile pushed against his lips and he continued forward. It wasn’t long until we were nearly pounced on by the King of “Awesome”, I suppose you would call him if you wanted to give Armie Hammer a nickname that he approved of.
“He-ey, Drew and Issie, my favorite men of the night!” He announced to the entire world as he grabbed me by the back first and smashed me against his chest. For those who didn’t already know this, Armie Hammer was one of those guys who had one of those bodies built for a role like Superman or something a bit more intimidating, like the Incredible Hulk. He was basically designed to charm your bloody pants off, a one-hundred percent guarantee. I often questioned on the set whether or not he was a real human being; granted, we didn’t talk much since neither of our characters ever really interacted, but oh, those stories got around fast. There wasn’t a time where Armie didn’t streak or ruin a shot with a face or prank one of the crew members into giving them a near heart attack from fright. The man was a Casanova genius.
“Hi, Armie,” I mumbled, my cheeks practically squished together with the power of his bear hug. “Can you- Canyuhgeoffame?”
“What did you say?” Genuinely confused, he leaned down closer to get a good listen for what I was saying, but Jesse answered for me.
“I think he said to get off of him because you’re incredibly high testosterone levels are crushing his very insides.”
“Oh, geez, sorry, man.” His arms quickly let go of me, but that wasn’t the end of it. When I filled my lungs up with air, he slapped me on the back, knocking the wind right back out. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’m just… I’m just pumped, you know? We finally get to see the finished product. C’mere, Eisenberg.”
“I’m perfectly content in keeping my inner organs intact,” Jesse reassured him as he took a step back.
Armie simply brushed it off and grinned. “So how are you two enjoying yourselves, huh? Is this surreal or what?”
“As surreal as it’ll ever get.”
“I wasn’t expecting such a huge turnout,” he admitted.
“Yeah, neither was I.”
Armie straightened his suit and started to scan the area. “Where’s Timberdork?”
“Justin is busy doing some interviews before the movie starts,” Jesse corrected. The way he said his name caught me off guard, like he was almost offended by Armie’s silly nickname. Squinting a tad, my lips parted for a second until I ran my tongue over the bottom. I would’ve asked him what that was all about, but I kept the mental note to myself.
“I’m sure he is,” Armie replied with a shrug. Clearing his throat, he grinned. “I do believe it’s time to go find my lovely woman, wherever she may be in this building. This movie better had been edited down to a fifteen minute piece. I heard the after-party is off the hook and my bladder hasn’t been doing too well lately, if you get what I mean.”
Leave it to Armie to leave too much information out of the sack.
Jesse and I followed Armie and found Justin, though he was quite the loner during the party save for Jesse. Every so often, the two were sharing secrets and giggles, something that made my very being shake with envy. Perhaps this jealousy was only a minor setback since I was slowly spiraling into the mindset of “He’s My Friend. Back Off”. Every time Justin would lean into Jesse and he would happily reciprocate the lean, I would feel sick to my stomach, so I wound up watch Armie telling his wife to wait there as he went around the room to pop up in several photos as the background star. Why I was so jealous, I couldn’t quite understand. I didn’t own Jesse, for Chrissakes, he was my best friend. I tried to reason with myself that sometimes people got jealous over sharing their best friends, and that this weird attachment problem was normal.
Either way, The Social Network’s premiere wound up being a fantastic night. The movie, in the end, was absolutely astounding to watch. Occasionally, my eyes would slink over to Jesse, who would respond to the feeling of someone looking at him by turning as well, and we would both smile at one another. Granted, his smile was one of embarrassment and uncertainty, but as he saw me beaming - I could see him glance out of the corner of my eye, like he was looking for any sort of approval for his monologue scenes - he, too, started grinning, and we watched the film with our arms brushing thanks to the shared armrest.
Yet, as the film started to come to a close, my smile started to fade. It was the last scene we had ever shot in a flash bit of incredibly beautiful editing that appeared upon the screen, and I could feel the lump in my throat beginning to form.
My screen-self was staring off into the distance, and I could feel my jaw tensing up at the very memory of that day. The memory, in fact, was too vivid; my eyes wound up dropping to the floor.
“I was your only friend.” Taking a slow breath in, my eyes managed to flicker back to the screen. I was now staring intently at screen Jesse, and the mixed emotions that led him to burst from the studio that day were prominent in his eyes. “You had one friend.” I think I was the only one who would ever notice this.
But then, to the side of me, I heard a slow, drawn-out breath leaving Jesse’s mouth. Turning my head in alarm, my brows furrowed, confused. He merely turned slowly, but not fully to look at me, and in the shadows of the theater I saw his sad smile. In that moment, I knew we said everything without ever having to say anything at all. It was a late apology from nearly a year ago, an apology for never being there, a promise that this would never really be us, though perhaps that was going down the little more melodramatic road.
The after party was oddly entertaining thanks to Armie and Brenda for making up most of the fun. Armie and his wife were the life of the party, cracking jokes one by one, while Brenda surprised us with the follow-up jokes that sent our little clique howling. I was content with being quiet, as was Jesse, but Justin was acting like his normal, ‘charming’ self around the people who came up to him, praising his work in the film. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t necessarily hate Justin, I had no legitimate reason to hate him, it was just that we never really clicked on the set. Plus, his touchy-feely rendezvous with Jesse didn’t particularly sit well with me.
Still, the night needed to go to a close, no matter how high I felt from the fact that Jesse and I were almost completely alright with one another. At the end of the night, he called himself a cab, but he wanted me to come back with him.
“I have a spare bedroom, it would be a shame if it wasn’t used,” he tried to reason, though his persuasion was faulty through his stammering. I apologetically smiled back.
“Jesse, you know I can’t. We have separate interviews until Monday.”
“What does that have to do with having a sleepover?” he replied bluntly.
Chuckling, I shook my head and leaned against the cab door as he maneuvered himself into the car. “Because, mate, when people have sleepovers, you never sleep. I don’t need us to be up watching late-night re-runs of The Nanny, alright? You go get some sleep; I’ll ring you in the morning.”
Reluctantly, he nodded and I shut the car door for him, only to wait for the car to disappear around the corner before hailing my own cab to take me home. Whether or not I was staying with him tonight, I felt a sense of pride swell in my chest.
The last thing I saw in Jesse’s hands before he left that night was that damned plane ticket with my name on it to New York City.
(continuation to part iv-b)
Warning: Language
| blossoming |
September.
It had been ten months.
Filming for The Social Network had ended around the beginning of December, give or take a few days. When they decided they didn’t need us anymore, they booked the remainder of the cast still near the studio a flight back home while they did all the technical work on their own. The last time I had ever seen Jesse was the morning I went on a plane to England and he to New York City to go home to his family. Not surprisingly, it was one of the longest flights I ever had to endure. I swear I must’ve gone through my collection of Arcade Fire at least a dozen times. No matter how much I love them, listening to Wake Up on repeat could actually get old after hearing it about twenty-six times with nothing else to do.
Bending down, my hand reached to grab my carry-on bag stowed beneath the seat in front of me. Picking it up and lightly placing it on my lap, I yawned silently and started to unzip. I didn’t need to worry about waking up the man beside me; he was already in an extremely deep sleep. I don’t even think us crashing or a mariachi band in his face would have disturbed his slumber.
After pushing an extra day of clothes aside - once, Jesse advised me that luggage could always be lost, so be prepared for everything and anything - I finally found a book I had been meaning to dive into called Patrimony by Philip Roth. To be quite honest, I only wanted to read it because Jesse had raved about it, over and over, and four hours into the plane ride, I was already homesick, so I figured why not.
However, something lime green was stuck on the front; with my brows scrunched in concentration, I carefully pulled out the novel, only to discover that the object planted on my book was a sticky-note.
It read:
I could feel my throat closing up and the back of my eyes stirring with emotion, but I simply left the sticky note on the cover and ran my thumb over the pen marks. Not seeing him was going to be the hardest task of all, but I was determined to keep in touch with him, even if it meant begging him to get a webcam for his laptop that he rarely uses.
Managing to pull a shaky breath inward, I opened the cover and began to read the first chapter. In my head, I read it in a way Jesse would have read it to me, and for now, everything was okay.
***
“Hello?”
“Jesse?”
“This is he.”
“It’s Andrew,” I breathed out with my heart barely stable in my chest.
This was the first time I managed to call Jesse without having a near spastic attack because I was so damn excited to phone him. Two months had passed since the flight back to England and time had consumed me more than I had ever anticipated it to. I was planning on sulking and watching television the whole time, but there was barely any time to actually sit around. Shannon wound up surprising me two weeks after I had gotten home, so you can imagine that I spent loads of time with her. She felt like we needed to ‘reconnect’ and rekindle our relationship after it had been slightly severed from our projects, and don’t get me wrong, I missed her, too, but what we once had… I wasn’t really sure. Something was missing and I couldn’t put my finger on what. In addition to Shannon, I spent a ton of time with my family to make up the past months of filming. Now I finally had a chance to sit down and call Jesse.
Of course, calling him alone was scary enough. It had been almost two months since I returned his calls; apparently he had called the week after the flight and the week after that, but I wound up losing track of time. I was half convinced that calling him back a month and a half later was a really bad idea. What if he didn’t even want to speak to me anymore? I could certainly understand why he wouldn’t. I would be mad at me, too.
Still, I needed to try.
Waiting for his answer, I heard a slight crinkle before his voice wavered. “Andrew?”
“Yeah, mate, it’s me.” My heart was nearly in my throat. “How’re you?”
“I… I’m alright, I guess, I just got done feeding my cats- Wait, isn’t it late for you there?”
“The time on the clock says three in the morning.”
“And you’re still calling me?”
The innocence in his voice made a goofy smile appear on my face. “Of course I’m still calling you. It’s not like I have a bloody bedtime.”
“I know, but it’s late,” he replied. “How have you been? I was starting to get… to get worried that something happened to you.”
“I’ve been…” Trailing off, I sighed heavily and pressed the phone closer to my ear, desperate to get closer to him. “I’ve been really busy, Jesse, and before we talk anymore, if we talk anymore-”
“What do you mean if?” Jesse interrupted in a very jittery voice.
Confused, I slowly pleaded my case. “Well, Jess, I haven’t exactly called you like I should have the past two months.”
“But you’ve been busy.”
“That’s still no excuse to not call you, I promised.”
“I’m just happy to hear you now,” he argued with a light huff of air. “It’s really… really nice to hear you, Andrew. Um, have you heard anything about the film?"
“Not really. Hey- I, uh, I auditioned for something.” I swear, I could feel him pull that quizzical on his face.
“Auditioned?”
“Yeah.”
“For a movie?”
“Yup.”
“What one?”
Yeah, ‘what one’ was definitely the question to ask. Taking in a deep breath, I tried to keep from smiling too hard. Pacing back and forth in my bedroom, I ran a hand through my hair and shook my head. “I actually went out and auditioned for the new Spiderman installment.”
“Sp- Spiderman?!” Jesse asked incredulously. “Are you serious?”
“As serious as I will ever be, Jesse.”
Silence took over his end, but then he started laughing. “You would be a great Spiderman.”
That was the last thing I had expected from him. My head even reared backwards, stunned. “Seriously, me, a superhero?”
“Well, why not, you have the charisma of a superhero and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have the physique for it, either,” he reasoned bluntly.
Grinning, I let out a small chuckle and nodded, not like he could see it anyway, but it made no difference. “I’m glad you think that.”
We went on for hours as usual about things that didn’t matter, things that did, things that made absolutely no sense, serious things, sad things, anything that came to mind. It wasn’t uncommon for us to spend an entire night conversing. A couple of times I even fell asleep and woke up to Jesse questioning a cat on the other line. There was no other way I would want to wake up.
Jesse and I talked a couple times on the phone after that, but, you could say, we were starting to experience ‘long-distance relationship’ problems. No matter how many times talking was planned, it was extremely hard to catch one another for calls that lasted more than five minutes. A convenient time for me meant an unreachable time for him and vice versa. As time went on, our calls became less and less frequent to the point where there was no call exchange at all.
Without Jesse, you can imagine, was hard. I had everyone in the world, really, at my side, but it wasn’t the same. At the most populated times, I felt like I had nothing. Every day it got a little easier, not seeing or hearing from him. After a while, the painful ache in my chest whenever something reminded me of him went dull; the things that once triggered memories were not as prominent in my life. I tried keeping myself busy by hanging out with friends, visiting family functions, anything I could think of to keep my mind occupied. Still, there were those moments where I couldn’t handle pretending.
A knock on the door woke me up from the couch one night. Despite being half asleep, I managed to crawl off the couch and drag my body to the door. Peeking through the peephole, I woke up in an instant, undid the lock, and opened the door with one hand while the other hand rubbed the sleep from my eye.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it over sooner, Andrew. I got your text when I was grocery shopping and- were you asleep?” the voice asked. Attempting to smile, I shook my head in disbelief. Of course she would be all dressed up for grocery shopping. If there was one person in the universe who always looked like a pixie princess, even when doing the boring deeds of everyday life, it was Carey.
“Sorry, I was busy and tired so I feel asleep,” I reasoned and took a step behind the door, subconsciously inviting her in. Carey smiled, rolled her eyes, and took a step inside.
“Sure looks like you were busy. When’s the last time you cleaned this bloody house?” she teased before leaning in to pull me into a hug. Gladly, I reciprocated the gesture, but what I hadn’t realized was the grip I had holding her back. “God Andrew, are you trying to crush me?”
Sheepishly, I took note of my roughness and carefully let her go. “Sorry, guess I just missed you a lot.”
There was no point in trying to fool Carey. She watched me, her face playfully skeptic yet serious all the same. She believed otherwise. “No, there’s something else bothering you, Drew. C’mon, let’s put on some tea and you can tell me what’s going on.”
“Carey, nothing’s going on,” I reassured her as I disappeared into my kitchen to put on some hot water. “Am I not allowed to miss you?”
“Well, no, but it’s evident. You miss someone else, it’s in the way you said it,” she countered, catching me while she walked behind me to follow suit. “Have you and Shannon been alright?”
“We’ve been ace, Carey, really, nothing is wrong.”
“But there is and you won’t tell me,” She interrupted in a soft yet pleading voice. I heard a scuffle on the floor from her heels before feeling a hand on my shoulder. “What is it, Andrew? You know you can trust me.”
“I know.”
“With anything.”
“I know.”
“I will listen.”
I said nothing. The poor kettle in my fist was probably about ready to shatter with the iron-clad grip I squeezed it with. Carey was silent, waiting for my answer, until I heard a sympathetic murmur.
“It’s Jesse, isn’t it?”
Her question came out more as a statement, like there was no swaying her, and all I could do was nod, very slowly. Her hand left my shoulder, but instead of leavening me, it lightly patted my hand, now white-knuckled, holding the kettle. “C’mon, darling, let’s go sit down and we can forget the tea.”
Unable to fight her, I allowed her to navigate me through my kitchen to the living room. Both of us sat on my couch, though I had forgotten I even sat down in the first place until she started speaking again. Her hand was lightly running over my back in an attempt to comfort me, but there was no use. My body was numb and in a totally different dimension.
“When’s the last time you’ve talked to him, love?”
“Four months,” I muttered. “It’s been four months.”
“And no call?”
“No call.”
“Not even a text?”
“He doesn’t own an international phone.”
“I think you need to call him if it’s that bad, love.”
“Jesse would have called if he wanted to talk.”
Carey stopped rubbing my back and looked me in the eye. “Now you and I both know that isn’t true.” The look in her eye told me something else was going to be brought up.
“What?”
“You… this isn’t just a friendship, is it?”
I swallowed the rock lodged in my throat. This was the one question I had been asking myself for a very, very long time now, though it tortured me to think too long about it. Questioning my feelings for Jesse was almost absurd, almost inappropriate. How could anyone seriously wonder if their friendship with a co-star was anything more, especially in our circumstances, in mine? Jesse had wound up becoming my best friend on-screen and off, someone I could always talk to and count on. I was never bored of him, and fighting was a rarity. Weren’t they standard policies for the concept of a best friend, though? At most, we could - oh, god, I hated thinking about this term - be considered a ‘bromance’, but anything more than that…
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I responded after a pause. To my dismay, Carey remained still and intent on an answer.
A beat passed. “Andrew.”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
Sighing, annoyed, I craned my neck to obey her command. As if on cue, her eyebrow rose accusingly. The are-you-kidding-me expression on her face only forced me to continue wearing my poker face.
“Are you in love with him?”
“Are you seriously asking me thi-”
“Are you in love with Jesse?”
“Carey, you sound crazy,” I reasoned, though my voice left me shaken for a second. Starting to get anxious, I leaped up from the couch and shoved my hands in my jean pockets as I started to pace back and forth behind the glass coffee table. “Why would I be in love with him? He’s my best friend, for Christ sakes.”
“Because you haven’t denied it yet.” Her eyes followed me from the couch and she stared at me, hard. Her reasoning had caught me off guard and my pacing stopped. Turning to face her, my eyes betrayed me; I must’ve looked like a deer caught in headlights. I could have sworn my heart stopped beating for a moment. When she knew she had my full attention, she continued in a soft voice. “If you didn’t love him, you would have flat out told me no, but you decided to argue with me. Instead of denying it to me, you’re denying it to yourself.”
Something inside of me was screaming to be let out. Somehow I felt numb and, at the same time, I felt a surge of fear hit me. I didn’t deny it. When she asked me a simple yes or no question, I went on a tangent of things that meant nothing instead of actually answering the question. Going over the last minute in my head, I replayed my responses and quickly a sense of dread overwhelmed me. I couldn’t handle this. So I wondered if Jesse and I had something… special… but this was the first time I ever let a different question process through:
Was I in love with Jesse?
“I’d rather not talk about this, Carey,” I whispered. My eyes were glued to the floor, and I felt more uncomfortable in my own shoes than ever. Clearly her intention was not to upset me, but her words continued to echo through my head. You didn’t deny it.
“Andrew-”
“Carey, I don’t… Can you please just go?” I quietly asked. With my head still facing the floor, I took in a deep breath and decided to man up and look her in the eye. I immediately regretted doing so. She was still sitting on my couch, her face sad and mouth open like she was about to say something to convince me to let her stay. Even she knew that she crossed a line I hadn’t even thought of drawing yet.
“I’m sorry, Andrew, I didn’t mean to…” Trailing off, she knew not of what to say, so she simply nodded and smiled sympathetically towards me. “Yeah, I’ll go now.”
Hesitantly standing up from the couch, Carey smoothed out her dress and fixed her hair before walking around the table to give me a goodbye hug. Because my head was on another cloud, I barely hugged back and didn’t even really notice she was gone until my door slammed shut, leaving me in my living room alone with the most puzzled look on my face.
With a gate of a zombie, I moved to my bathroom and pulled the ‘cold’ sink handle towards me to get the water going. I splashed a bit against my face, cooling my mind, but then I took note of my reflection prior to patting my face dry. I never denied it, not for one second. Gazing off to the side, my palms took hold of either side of the sink, and I leaned against it for dear life. Not that I felt sick or anything, but I was so freaking confused as I contemplated Carey’s argument. Missing your best friend was normal, wanting to do everything for them was normal, but was what I felt for Jesse normal?
My mind was made up:
I needed to see him.
***
The date was July 2, 2010.
In my hand was a ticket for a six a.m. flight to New York City. Everything was planned, packed up and ready to go. After a week or so of contemplating Carey’s idea, I decided to take it to the next level. There was always that option of calling him, but that wasn’t a sincere enough apology. Instead of calling, I came to the conclusion that the only way to cure this was to see him, face to face, as fast as possible. The way to cure that was to take the first plane I could find to New York.
The smart thing would have been to tell Jesse that I was coming so he didn’t freak out if his home wasn’t cleaned up, but I was too wrapped up in the idea of surprising him that I never took it into consideration. I told a few friends, like Carey, and they all swore it was a terribly impulsive idea, but I was on top of the world. All that mattered was seeing him. The hotel was already booked and all my best clothes were in my luggage. My carry-on bag was still in question and totally empty, but everything I was bringing on the plane was already set up besides it; all I needed to do was organize.
My iPod was charging on the alarm stand as I was busy skimming through Patrimony when my phone buzzed loudly against the wooden nightstand by my bed. Hesitantly, I picked it up and tilted the screen to see who was calling. “Magneto” was the title of the caller- oh, I named my agent Magneto on my phone after a conversation I had overheard one day. It was an on-going joke, I guess, with myself.
Tossing the cellular device up in the air, I caught it, pressed ‘Accept’ and leaned back in bed with the phone against my ear. “Hello?”
“Andrew, you got it.”
Well, that sure was specific. “Got what?”
“You. Congrats, kiddo, you’re Peter Parker. You’re the new Spiderman.”
I practically vomited out of pure alarm. “I- I what?”
“Well, don’t act too excited so quickly,” he teased with a chuckle.
I was at a loss, a complete and utter loss, for words. For a second there I forgot that I even had lungs and how to breathe. My hand practically crushed my phone from trying to grasp onto the concept that I got the part. I got the role of a lifetime, I was Spiderman.
“Andrew?” A voice called to bring me back to earth.
“Yeah? Oh, uh, sorry, wow, I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, you better get ready for the press, that’s what you should do. They want interviews pronto,” he told me. “In the States, people are going nuts about this announcement; they want to see the new face representing their masked wonder.” I could feel my palms grow sweaty. “When the earliest you can get to LA? Entertainment Weekly wants to interview you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? My eyes stared down at the plane ticket still resting my other hand limp on the sheets. If he meant tomorrow, that would mean I would have to get on a plane in a couple of hours to get to LA in time to be well rested for the interview. That only meant…
“I… I sort of had plans already to go to New York for a week, I already bought the tickets, are they really going that crazy? Can’t… Can’t they pick another date rather than tomo-”
“You’re kidding me, right? Andrew, this is huge for you. Whatever is in New York can wait and you know it. This is a role of a lifetime; you are going to be the newest face for one of the most iconic superheroes in history. Please tell me you’re not already passing it up.” He sighed. “Do you know how that’s going to look?”
Still, my eyes stared down at the plane ticket in my hand. There was my ticket to everything I wanted, to seeing him, but now there was no way I could. My impulsive, you-can’t-stop-me ride had skid to an abrupt halt, and I swallowed with regret. Duty called, and I couldn’t back out of this, no matter how much I missed Jesse. Biting my lower lip, my hand slowly clamped around the ticket, crumpling it down to nothing.
“So?”
“I’ll change my flight as soon as possible,” I murmured in the phone, only to hang up and toss my phone away from me before he could answer. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I bent my elbows and leaned my head in frustration into my hands. This was supposed to be a happy moment, something that I would be proud of, but I could barely think of anything else. Calling him and telling him what I was going to do would have only made it worse for both of us; I was sure, so I refused to call. Instead, I picked the phone back up, and spent an hour changing my flight to Los Angeles in a couple of hours rather than New York. I felt on-edge now as I realized that now instead of appearing anonymously at Jesse’s house, I would now be in front of thousands of fans of a comic book series to tell them that I was their new face. It was the most mind-numbing thought I had ever encountered.
Once the call was done, I dropped it beside me and picked up the Roth book once more and flipped through a couple of pages. I blinked out the angry tears threatening to spill out as I attempted to read the words, but they came out in my head as mere shouts of rage.
I should have left sooner.
Then again, I should have done a lot I didn’t do.
***
The next three months had been dominated by web-slinging publicity.
Yet, through the celebrations, the readings, and the overtime in shooting, a bigger picture was looming over me: The Social Network was going to be premiering. In fact, the movie premiere was in less than twenty-four hours, and, needless to say, I was more than ecstatic. I had only seen the full preview once, I couldn’t believe how great it looked on screen, and I was so busy with all the Spiderman business that I never had time to actually pay attention to the latest news in anything else. My co-star, Emma, though, was pretty up-to-date and would lightly make comment on the buzz she saw in the internet. Plus, she was not only my co-star, but she was once Jesse’s, so I guess… well, this is how she put it:
“Basically, I’m in the movie, too,” Emma said one time we were off the set next to her trailer eating some Chinese.
“You’re in it?” I repeated in a muffled voice as I ate and picked around with my chopsticks.
“Well, yeah, I mean, I’ve starred with you and I’ve starred with freaking Zuckerberg, so technically I’m a part of this film, too. I think Mr. Fincher should put my name on it somewhere.” Her hands raised above her face as she wiped the air with them. “Special appearance by Emma Stone, the one who starred with both goobers in two totally different films.”
“Technically they’re both action,” I teased with a smirk.
Emma made a face and shrugged. “Yeah, well, I kinda just wanted my name at the end. It would be a major ego-boost if people actually built up a controversy saying I really wasn’t there, but I can dream, can’t I?”
“You’re insane is what you are.” Laughing, I tilted my head back and allowed the noodles to drop into my mouth.
“It’s better than being boring,” she countered, but smiled and went back to eating.
Yet, today was the day. Not just any day, but the day that I would finally get to see my co-stars again and see my work. The Social Network was premiering on the twenty-fourth of September, and I was busy scrambling around to get ready after my tiring flight to New York. I had spent most of the day in my hotel room, preparing for this night. Every so often I texted Emma and she sent back stupid premiere trivia facts, like what went wrong on some nights or wacky pictures of wardrobe malfunction. Apparently Dolce & Gabbana had been a ‘suburb’ choice, or so she thought. I had actually invited her along since Shannon was unable to attend, but she said she had a date with Dawson’s Creek tonight, but to give Jesse love and support. My heart nearly leaped into my throat at the name. It wasn’t long before I’d see him.
Once it was time to hop into the car, I quickly rushed in from my hotel room and waited in the backseat. I was completely content with sitting in the passenger seat, of course, but I got yelled at by assigned driver in a language I didn’t understand and awkwardly shuffled to the back. Well, welcome to New York, I guess.
I couldn’t tell you how much my knee jumped around like a possessed entity around the back seat of the car. My eyes were glancing at scattered buildings behind the glass, but I took no comfort in the soft, elevator-like music the driver was playing. Neither of us spoke the entire trip; that or I never heard him speak since I was so far off in my own little world. Constantly, my head came up with different scenarios. Would Jesse be even happy to see me there? God, I hoped so. The other scenario made my stomach lurch in pure fear; there was always that possibility that he could just ignore my existence and claim we weren’t friends anymore because of my neglect. The very thought of it made my heart break.
Still, it was now or never when the car came to a sudden halt and the flashing of lights nearly blinded me even with the tinted windows.
“We are here,” he announced. “Enjoy, Mr. Garfield.”
Offering a light but nervous smile, I nodded to the rear view mirror. “Thanks.” And with that, I opened the car door and stepped out to a blinding set of flashing lights aiming right at me. I heard several shouts of my name, and I simply shoved my hand in my pocket and started walking over to where my agent was. Alright, pictures were dazzling, but I was on a mission.
“Well, damn, don’t you look great,” my agent complimented once I finally reached him on the carpet. Several interviewers were screaming my name while the flashes still went, but my eyes were looking elsewhere.
“Thanks.”
“C’mon, turn around.” Obeying, I took my hand out of my pocket and stood in front of the cameras, allowing them to get their quick seconds of shots before I felt a tap on my shoulder. I swear, I won’t be able to see a bloody thing when I’m about sixty years old.
“Where is he?” I immediately asked once we started walking.
“Where’s who?” He asked, confused. Sitting here asking him, though, was wasting time. Moving past him, I lightly placed a hand on his shoulder before striding forward to search around. I skipped the majority of the cameras - it’s not like they wouldn’t have more group photos on a later date - and snaked my way through the swarms of people crowding around the doors. I turned to look back since I was afraid that I had missed him, but I could hear that oh, so familiar voice a mere few feet in front of me.
“…oh, well, you know, this is exciting and all since I can go home after this and just spend time with my cats, but overall this experience so far has been absolutely exhilarating and, uh, fun.”
I could barely contain myself; standing here, waiting for him to finish his interview was probably one of the hardest things I was ever forced to do. I couldn’t see him yet, but I knew he was somewhere close, so I continued to push through the heavy masses for just that one chance to get a glimpse of him.
That’s when the curly mop of hair came into view and I immediately went for it.
With several ‘excuse me’s and pardons flowing from my mouth like a broken record player, I weaved in and out through the crowds until I could actually see his face. He looked amazing in that suit and tie; it nearly left me breathless and I could feel my eyes playing a game of tug o’ war with my tear ducts. He was just about to leave the interviewer, shaking their hand and thanking them back, when he turned in my direction and casually looked about the crowd. I stared in awe with my jaw slightly ajar. As his eyes scanned lazily through the masses, his eyes locked on mine before simply passing them, but then his head whipped back and his eyes were totally stuck on mine. A look of complete shock had overcome his face, and I felt the urge to break out into a sprint and hold him in my arms. Yet, I stood there, silently begging for a subconscious approval. At first he did nothing, but soon, a smile began to creep onto his face, sealing my fate. I broke out into stride to get to him, and he, too, started walking at a faster pace backwards on the carpet towards me. My heart was running in its own race and my hands were practically breaking out into an anxious sweat, but three, two, one more step and-
Without hesitation, I felt arms wrap around me, and I reciprocated the gesture whole-heartedly. My grip could have probably crushed his entire torso, but he didn’t complain and, instead, hugged me harder. The press was busy looking at other scenes, it seemed, because the moment was one of the most intimate memories of my life. I felt like the world only revolved around Jesse and I, holding one another close, enjoying each other like old times. The way this moment had turned out was much better than I could have ever expected; it literally took everything in me not to cry in his hair, which I gingerly laid my head upon as I took in his scent, god, that scent I could never get enough of and missed so dearly.
“Is that really you?” I squeaked as I impulsively ran a hand through his hair, unable to keep myself from not doing it. Luckily for me, people were busy catching other stars attending the premiere to pay attention to my reunion with Jesse.
Jesse sort of let out a tiny laugh and pulled away from me, his eyes shining. This was so much better than I had ever anticipated this to be. It took everything in me not to lightly run my hand over his face, just to make sure I wasn’t in some sort of surreal dream. I made myself look like a crazy maniac, but I was so blinded by so much happiness that I didn’t even notice. My arms fell from him, but my gaze said everything, all my emotions, just everything I was ever feeling at that moment in time.
“Yeah, surprisingly, it is me in one piece,” he joked. His smile got weaker as he contemplated whether or not that was even funny to joke about.
Shaking my head, I noticed the smile plastered on my face was beginning to really ache. “Jesse, wow, I am just… Can we go off to the side for a minute?”
“Sure, sure,” I quickly responded. Before leaving, though, I looked back out at the crowd to make sure no wandering eyes were following. Luckily Armie was giving them a show with his wife by pulling off James Bond poses and being the charming man that he was that the media was all over him. I’d have to thank him later for distracting them. Easily, we slipped away into the building and off to a hallway that seemed to be deserted. When he stopped, I took a moment to look back; there was no way you could see us from the end of the hall, so mentally, we were alone.
“Andrew-”
“Jesse, I’m so sorry,” I blurted out, totally disregarding whatever he was about to say. He seemed confused, like he hadn’t expected an apology, so I kept going. “I should have come to see you, like I promised. I promised that I would come and visit you and I screwed up, immensely, and I can’t take that time back, but you have to believe me when I say I am so very unbelievably sorry for not being a good enough friend.”
When he said nothing and merely stared with a blank expression, I began to feel it was too late. Swallowing my fears, I nodded and bit my lower lip. If it were me, I guess apologies a half a year later, too, would be unforgivable. “I really am sorry, Jesse. I, um, I got you this.”
I fumbled through my suit jacket pockets before finding the little slip of paper that had been pressed out from crumpling it on an earlier date. The piece of paper was the British Airways ticket that read “TO: NEW YORK CITY”, the one I had originally schedule for July 2. Smoothing it out with my shaking hand, I held it out for him to see. Jesse, who didn’t really do much at all, simply leaned forward a bit, his eyes widening as he read through the text on the ticket.
“I bought a plane ticket, to see you, in July. It was supposed to be a surprise,” I narrated, stammering every few words. Letting a shaken breath pass my lips, I explained further. “I got busy, y’know? And, and, and I tried really hard to come see you and to call but then something would always come up. So, so I made myself go online and purchase a ticket to New York to surprise you. I know you hate surprises and I know you’re not a big fan of random visits because you’re paranoid about coming to the door or whatever, but I really needed to see you and I figured if you didn’t know I was coming you would forgive me more, but now as I say my ridiculous logic out loud it seems like such a bloody awful idea.”
Jesse still said nothing, but he lightly took the ticket from my hand to examine it more closely. “You bought this to see me?” His eyes never left the slip of paper.
“Yeah, but then I got the call-”
“-to be Spiderman,” he finished for me. Finally, his eyes lifted to lock onto mine, glassy and absolutely surprised, and my heart nearly skipped a beat.
“I’m so sorry, Jesse,” I managed to croak, my own eyes now filling up with tears at the very sight of him standing there with that plane ticket that had meant so much to me in the summer. “I really am, truly, incredibly s-”
But a pair of arms engulfed my body. The hold was nearly constricting my airways, but when I looked down to see the mop of curls in my face, I was pretty content with my face turning blue. Reciprocating the hug, I held him close and slightly swayed, burying my face in his hair.
“I missed you, and you don’t need to apologize for anything, just as long as you’re here now and you don’t go anywhere,” he said, his voice muffled as his face pressed against my chest.
Breathing out in relief, I sniffed and nodded, biting my lower lip to keep from crying. “I’m not going anywhere, mate, promise.”
What I didn’t hear from the end of the hall automatically, though, were feet stepping away from us, a halt, and then steps coming towards us. Both of us practically jumped out of our skin from the surprise of another voice chiming in.
“Jesse, we have to start going inside no-Oh.”
The two of us leaped off one another when the other person came into play, and we both played it off entirely too awkwardly, but apparently Jesse already knew who it was interrupting our little moment. I was annoyed, yeah, but when I looked up to see who it was after I had smoothed out my suit, I felt a slight pang of irritation in my chest.
Jesse, too, smoothed out his suit, ran his fingers through his hair, and turned to answer the figure. “Yeah, uh, we’ll be right there, Justin.” And he turned to me and gave me a weak yet genuinely shy smile. My eyes were still transfixed on Justin at the far end of the hallway. His suit jacket was already missing and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, giving him a casual aura, though his face was hard and his jaw, from what I could see, was tense. Instead of looking at Jesse, he looked at me with a look of half surprise, half distaste.
On the set of The Social Network, Justin and I had played rivals, though it seemed to have bubbled over onto our real lives, as well. We were never necessarily pals on the set and he mostly kept to himself, though he did become a fan of Jesse. Jesse, being as oblivious to the world as he was at times and despite his self-proclaimed anti-social ways, was always up to talking to someone, and Justin did try, but in the end Jesse would leave to go find me. When the two were together for a day or so, Justin seemed… well, he seemed a tad possessive over Jesse, and I didn’t appreciate that in the slightest. It was as though in real life we were trying to compete for Jesse’s friendship, and it was a concept I could never fully grasp.
Still, he didn’t wait for us to come with him and instead turned on his heel and left without us. Jesse simply shrugged and started walking; I trailed right along behind him. The crowds were already massive, so navigating them was a total bitch. I tried to remain close to Jesse’s footsteps while slightly waving to random people waving at me and calling my name, never bothering to check who they were. In a delayed moment, I had realize that it didn’t really matter who else was in the room; Jesse was right there, and quite honestly, that was all that truly counted.
Throughout the night, we were inseparable. To make up for the lack of time we had in nearly an entire year, I stuck by his side every minute. For the most part, he seemed composed and calm with a light and happy air about him; whatever mood he had, I seemed to receive it secondhand, leaving me in a happy-go-lucky high. Every so often, Jesse would peer back behind his shoulder; when it registered that I was still behind him, a tiny smile pushed against his lips and he continued forward. It wasn’t long until we were nearly pounced on by the King of “Awesome”, I suppose you would call him if you wanted to give Armie Hammer a nickname that he approved of.
“He-ey, Drew and Issie, my favorite men of the night!” He announced to the entire world as he grabbed me by the back first and smashed me against his chest. For those who didn’t already know this, Armie Hammer was one of those guys who had one of those bodies built for a role like Superman or something a bit more intimidating, like the Incredible Hulk. He was basically designed to charm your bloody pants off, a one-hundred percent guarantee. I often questioned on the set whether or not he was a real human being; granted, we didn’t talk much since neither of our characters ever really interacted, but oh, those stories got around fast. There wasn’t a time where Armie didn’t streak or ruin a shot with a face or prank one of the crew members into giving them a near heart attack from fright. The man was a Casanova genius.
“Hi, Armie,” I mumbled, my cheeks practically squished together with the power of his bear hug. “Can you- Canyuhgeoffame?”
“What did you say?” Genuinely confused, he leaned down closer to get a good listen for what I was saying, but Jesse answered for me.
“I think he said to get off of him because you’re incredibly high testosterone levels are crushing his very insides.”
“Oh, geez, sorry, man.” His arms quickly let go of me, but that wasn’t the end of it. When I filled my lungs up with air, he slapped me on the back, knocking the wind right back out. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’m just… I’m just pumped, you know? We finally get to see the finished product. C’mere, Eisenberg.”
“I’m perfectly content in keeping my inner organs intact,” Jesse reassured him as he took a step back.
Armie simply brushed it off and grinned. “So how are you two enjoying yourselves, huh? Is this surreal or what?”
“As surreal as it’ll ever get.”
“I wasn’t expecting such a huge turnout,” he admitted.
“Yeah, neither was I.”
Armie straightened his suit and started to scan the area. “Where’s Timberdork?”
“Justin is busy doing some interviews before the movie starts,” Jesse corrected. The way he said his name caught me off guard, like he was almost offended by Armie’s silly nickname. Squinting a tad, my lips parted for a second until I ran my tongue over the bottom. I would’ve asked him what that was all about, but I kept the mental note to myself.
“I’m sure he is,” Armie replied with a shrug. Clearing his throat, he grinned. “I do believe it’s time to go find my lovely woman, wherever she may be in this building. This movie better had been edited down to a fifteen minute piece. I heard the after-party is off the hook and my bladder hasn’t been doing too well lately, if you get what I mean.”
Leave it to Armie to leave too much information out of the sack.
Jesse and I followed Armie and found Justin, though he was quite the loner during the party save for Jesse. Every so often, the two were sharing secrets and giggles, something that made my very being shake with envy. Perhaps this jealousy was only a minor setback since I was slowly spiraling into the mindset of “He’s My Friend. Back Off”. Every time Justin would lean into Jesse and he would happily reciprocate the lean, I would feel sick to my stomach, so I wound up watch Armie telling his wife to wait there as he went around the room to pop up in several photos as the background star. Why I was so jealous, I couldn’t quite understand. I didn’t own Jesse, for Chrissakes, he was my best friend. I tried to reason with myself that sometimes people got jealous over sharing their best friends, and that this weird attachment problem was normal.
Either way, The Social Network’s premiere wound up being a fantastic night. The movie, in the end, was absolutely astounding to watch. Occasionally, my eyes would slink over to Jesse, who would respond to the feeling of someone looking at him by turning as well, and we would both smile at one another. Granted, his smile was one of embarrassment and uncertainty, but as he saw me beaming - I could see him glance out of the corner of my eye, like he was looking for any sort of approval for his monologue scenes - he, too, started grinning, and we watched the film with our arms brushing thanks to the shared armrest.
Yet, as the film started to come to a close, my smile started to fade. It was the last scene we had ever shot in a flash bit of incredibly beautiful editing that appeared upon the screen, and I could feel the lump in my throat beginning to form.
My screen-self was staring off into the distance, and I could feel my jaw tensing up at the very memory of that day. The memory, in fact, was too vivid; my eyes wound up dropping to the floor.
“I was your only friend.” Taking a slow breath in, my eyes managed to flicker back to the screen. I was now staring intently at screen Jesse, and the mixed emotions that led him to burst from the studio that day were prominent in his eyes. “You had one friend.” I think I was the only one who would ever notice this.
But then, to the side of me, I heard a slow, drawn-out breath leaving Jesse’s mouth. Turning my head in alarm, my brows furrowed, confused. He merely turned slowly, but not fully to look at me, and in the shadows of the theater I saw his sad smile. In that moment, I knew we said everything without ever having to say anything at all. It was a late apology from nearly a year ago, an apology for never being there, a promise that this would never really be us, though perhaps that was going down the little more melodramatic road.
The after party was oddly entertaining thanks to Armie and Brenda for making up most of the fun. Armie and his wife were the life of the party, cracking jokes one by one, while Brenda surprised us with the follow-up jokes that sent our little clique howling. I was content with being quiet, as was Jesse, but Justin was acting like his normal, ‘charming’ self around the people who came up to him, praising his work in the film. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t necessarily hate Justin, I had no legitimate reason to hate him, it was just that we never really clicked on the set. Plus, his touchy-feely rendezvous with Jesse didn’t particularly sit well with me.
Still, the night needed to go to a close, no matter how high I felt from the fact that Jesse and I were almost completely alright with one another. At the end of the night, he called himself a cab, but he wanted me to come back with him.
“I have a spare bedroom, it would be a shame if it wasn’t used,” he tried to reason, though his persuasion was faulty through his stammering. I apologetically smiled back.
“Jesse, you know I can’t. We have separate interviews until Monday.”
“What does that have to do with having a sleepover?” he replied bluntly.
Chuckling, I shook my head and leaned against the cab door as he maneuvered himself into the car. “Because, mate, when people have sleepovers, you never sleep. I don’t need us to be up watching late-night re-runs of The Nanny, alright? You go get some sleep; I’ll ring you in the morning.”
Reluctantly, he nodded and I shut the car door for him, only to wait for the car to disappear around the corner before hailing my own cab to take me home. Whether or not I was staying with him tonight, I felt a sense of pride swell in my chest.
The last thing I saw in Jesse’s hands before he left that night was that damned plane ticket with my name on it to New York City.
(continuation to part iv-b)