Smile Like You Mean It
Title: Smile Like You Mean It
Fandom/Verse:Real Person Fic
Characters/Pairings:James Franco/Eliza Dushku, mentions of unrequited James/Kirsten and the vaguest almost hints of Tobey/Kirsten
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Real people, fictional events. This never happened, and no harm is intended.
Note:Early Spidey era. I'm working on the second bit to this now, but I just remembered this part of it. God I love triangles, or in this case, squares. Also? *points to music*If Eliza played guitar this would be the ultimate Franco/Eliza/Kirsten triangle song of doom.
A weekend passes with no James around to cloud her thoughts, or even worse, her judgment. Spiderman's going to big, everyone's saying so, and when he goes off to promote she can't help but feel a bit of jealousy, a twinge of regret telling Eliza that she could have been up there in the spotlight. She's not jealous of James. For weeks now she's watched him grow by leaps and bounds. When he's on camera the shy, timid, guy she's come to adore even more than the brilliant young actor fades away to someone untouchable. He's never the character, not in real life, yet he can tell you every last thing about them, down to the way they like their pancakes or how they tie their shoes.
Mary Jane was supposed to be hers, and it had been so close she could almost taste it. She learned long ago not to cry over the parts that got away. It's an unforgiving business, but she really did believe that there was always something just around the corner. Eliza had comforted herself easily in the past few months. The red wig was admittedly awful, she wouldn't be playing yet another girl with an admittedly crappy past (or even worse, a damsel in distress) and she wouldn't have to appease thousands of devoted comic book geeks, but as soon as she saw the photographer's shots, or even worse, the actual premiere footage, the phrase that could have been me kept echoing through her brain like a song that just wouldn't leave.
James could have had his arm around her, an easily detectable schoolboy grin on his face. They could have been laughing about she tripped over a high powered fan, or how Tobey is such a nerd. There were just too many what ifs and could have beens, but when he came back, she suddenly didn't want to be that girl anymore. He looks different, though she's sure that nothing has changed. There's no new haircut, or very metrosexual facial or eyebrow wax to make him look like a new person, though she honestly can't say he looks any better. There's an underlying sadness between those already puppy dog brown eyes of his that had only been gazing at her friend only days before, and she can't help but wonder what's happened to bring him down so quickly.
Eliza knows she probably won't get an answer. If James is anything, he's secretive, but that doesn't stop her from trying.
"Hey stud," she says, smile permanently plastered on with a chipper tone that sounds fake to even her own ears. "Did you have fun playing superhero? Oh wait, superhero's bitch?"
He smiles wanly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm just tired. Long week, you know? I'll see you later?"
"I'm pretty much done for the day, but I can stick around if you want to hang." She pauses, adding awkwardly. "Or talk."
He nods, but she knows there's nothing she can do now, not even call Kirsten and go apeshit like she really wants too. Time heals all wounds, even broken hearts. And for now, she can only wait, and remind herself to be grateful that hers is still in tact. James hasn't really broken it just yet.
Fandom/Verse:Real Person Fic
Characters/Pairings:James Franco/Eliza Dushku, mentions of unrequited James/Kirsten and the vaguest almost hints of Tobey/Kirsten
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Real people, fictional events. This never happened, and no harm is intended.
Note:Early Spidey era. I'm working on the second bit to this now, but I just remembered this part of it. God I love triangles, or in this case, squares. Also? *points to music*If Eliza played guitar this would be the ultimate Franco/Eliza/Kirsten triangle song of doom.
A weekend passes with no James around to cloud her thoughts, or even worse, her judgment. Spiderman's going to big, everyone's saying so, and when he goes off to promote she can't help but feel a bit of jealousy, a twinge of regret telling Eliza that she could have been up there in the spotlight. She's not jealous of James. For weeks now she's watched him grow by leaps and bounds. When he's on camera the shy, timid, guy she's come to adore even more than the brilliant young actor fades away to someone untouchable. He's never the character, not in real life, yet he can tell you every last thing about them, down to the way they like their pancakes or how they tie their shoes.
Mary Jane was supposed to be hers, and it had been so close she could almost taste it. She learned long ago not to cry over the parts that got away. It's an unforgiving business, but she really did believe that there was always something just around the corner. Eliza had comforted herself easily in the past few months. The red wig was admittedly awful, she wouldn't be playing yet another girl with an admittedly crappy past (or even worse, a damsel in distress) and she wouldn't have to appease thousands of devoted comic book geeks, but as soon as she saw the photographer's shots, or even worse, the actual premiere footage, the phrase that could have been me kept echoing through her brain like a song that just wouldn't leave.
James could have had his arm around her, an easily detectable schoolboy grin on his face. They could have been laughing about she tripped over a high powered fan, or how Tobey is such a nerd. There were just too many what ifs and could have beens, but when he came back, she suddenly didn't want to be that girl anymore. He looks different, though she's sure that nothing has changed. There's no new haircut, or very metrosexual facial or eyebrow wax to make him look like a new person, though she honestly can't say he looks any better. There's an underlying sadness between those already puppy dog brown eyes of his that had only been gazing at her friend only days before, and she can't help but wonder what's happened to bring him down so quickly.
Eliza knows she probably won't get an answer. If James is anything, he's secretive, but that doesn't stop her from trying.
"Hey stud," she says, smile permanently plastered on with a chipper tone that sounds fake to even her own ears. "Did you have fun playing superhero? Oh wait, superhero's bitch?"
He smiles wanly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm just tired. Long week, you know? I'll see you later?"
"I'm pretty much done for the day, but I can stick around if you want to hang." She pauses, adding awkwardly. "Or talk."
He nods, but she knows there's nothing she can do now, not even call Kirsten and go apeshit like she really wants too. Time heals all wounds, even broken hearts. And for now, she can only wait, and remind herself to be grateful that hers is still in tact. James hasn't really broken it just yet.