[Nov 1, 2009] Bright fall leaves and crispy sun - last day in Vancouver
They warned him about Vancouver, long before he started filming - it's beautiful, everyone said, but it rains all the time. He's a California boy at heart, so he worried just a little.
Then June came along, he flew in, and within a week he was in love with the city.
First of all, everybody lied. It doesn't rain all the time in Vancouver. Five months here, and Zac can count on the fingers of his two hands the number of miserable rainy days that he remembers. But it's not just that. It's the people here, how respectful and nice they all are, how little they bothered him and Vanessa as they strolled downtown, into stores and restaurants. It's the city itself, surrounded by splendid mountains and an ocean that never ends, and the way it shines golden every evening at sunset. It's the outdoors here, twenty minutes to lush green wilderness even at the height of a heatwave, twenty minutes to canoeing in coves that will take your breath away, twenty minutes to bungee jumping, to fishing, to mountain biking, to hiking, to sailing. It's coming home at 3am exhausted after a 12-hour work day, not having to worry about paparazzi, and slipping right into bed where your girlfriend awaits, lips parted and a beautiful mess of hair spread across the pillows.
(Technically, that last one's not on Vancouver, but it counts. He still doesn't know by what stroke of luck their schedules worked out so that they would be filming in the same city at the same time, but there is not one day that has gone by where he hasn't thanked the Flying Spaghetti Monster for that. The city is amazing, but she makes it a thousand times better.)
He was exhausted when he got to Canada, more than he'd realized, drained by too much time spent on planes bouncing from one country to the next, too long spent under the unremitting bright lights and camera flashes of award ceremonies and premieres, too long spent figuring out how to avoid unwelcome photographers. Too much attention, all the time. He's not sure he can put into words the breath of fresh air that Vancouver has been, how restored he feels by these few months spent away from Los Angeles.
It's over now. He's heading back tonight - the tickets are on the dining table, with his passport, like his mom always told him to do - but right now, he's not thinking about that. Right now, he's thinking about Vanessa and the way she tastes when he kisses her sweaty neck, like salt and sex. He loves when their bodies are pressed together, sticky skin against sticky skin, those moments where it doesn't matter that it's kind of gross because all you care about is that the other person's naked with you. They should shower, probably - or maybe not, they'll have sex again later, he's 99.99% sure - but all he wants to do right now is continue to kiss that spot behind her ear that makes her giggle, over and over. It's past noon and outside the sun is shining bright, making the curve of her shoulder glisten when he pays attention.
It rains all the time in Vancouver - bullshit.
Then June came along, he flew in, and within a week he was in love with the city.
First of all, everybody lied. It doesn't rain all the time in Vancouver. Five months here, and Zac can count on the fingers of his two hands the number of miserable rainy days that he remembers. But it's not just that. It's the people here, how respectful and nice they all are, how little they bothered him and Vanessa as they strolled downtown, into stores and restaurants. It's the city itself, surrounded by splendid mountains and an ocean that never ends, and the way it shines golden every evening at sunset. It's the outdoors here, twenty minutes to lush green wilderness even at the height of a heatwave, twenty minutes to canoeing in coves that will take your breath away, twenty minutes to bungee jumping, to fishing, to mountain biking, to hiking, to sailing. It's coming home at 3am exhausted after a 12-hour work day, not having to worry about paparazzi, and slipping right into bed where your girlfriend awaits, lips parted and a beautiful mess of hair spread across the pillows.
(Technically, that last one's not on Vancouver, but it counts. He still doesn't know by what stroke of luck their schedules worked out so that they would be filming in the same city at the same time, but there is not one day that has gone by where he hasn't thanked the Flying Spaghetti Monster for that. The city is amazing, but she makes it a thousand times better.)
He was exhausted when he got to Canada, more than he'd realized, drained by too much time spent on planes bouncing from one country to the next, too long spent under the unremitting bright lights and camera flashes of award ceremonies and premieres, too long spent figuring out how to avoid unwelcome photographers. Too much attention, all the time. He's not sure he can put into words the breath of fresh air that Vancouver has been, how restored he feels by these few months spent away from Los Angeles.
It's over now. He's heading back tonight - the tickets are on the dining table, with his passport, like his mom always told him to do - but right now, he's not thinking about that. Right now, he's thinking about Vanessa and the way she tastes when he kisses her sweaty neck, like salt and sex. He loves when their bodies are pressed together, sticky skin against sticky skin, those moments where it doesn't matter that it's kind of gross because all you care about is that the other person's naked with you. They should shower, probably - or maybe not, they'll have sex again later, he's 99.99% sure - but all he wants to do right now is continue to kiss that spot behind her ear that makes her giggle, over and over. It's past noon and outside the sun is shining bright, making the curve of her shoulder glisten when he pays attention.
It rains all the time in Vancouver - bullshit.