Real Person // Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock // "Dinner Party"
Title: "Dinner Party"
Fandom: Real Person
Characters: Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock
Prompt: #44; Exile.
Word Count: 1,568
Rating: PG-13
Summary: While filming Speed, Sandra meets Keanu's gang.
Author's Notes: Tee hee; Keanu's got a gang. And yeah, I don't know them. This is just how I think it should be.
I wish I hadn’t followed them back to his apartment. I had hesitated when asked, partially for Jennifer’s attitude and partially because, well … the word exile definitely came to mind when I considered their approach towards me. Freezers were warmer than these people. They tolerated me for the sake of Keanu and his desperate attempt to bring me into his tight circle of friends.
But all his weak similarities between me and them (I saw them not as individuals, but a collective group dead set against me) didn’t help. Bottom line I was not serious enough. When it came to acting, yes, that was my job and I respected it, but I didn’t make a habit of sitting around and talking about the ethics of movies today and how “the man” was out to get us. They did.
It was a failure from the beginning. I came late. I always come late because I fear standing alone and looking like a loser. So I arrived at ten after, sitting down with a grin and making a joke about traffic. A terrible joke because it was nine at night and there was no traffic. One muttered something about rudely interrupting them and they returned to their conversation about office politics.
Most were struggling actors and musicians by night, holding peon jobs during the day in hopes of making connections in ‘Emerald City’ as they constantly referred to Hollywood. I assumed they were referring to Hollywood. My favorite was Bret, an easygoing guy who was constantly persuading Keanu to continue playing bass in the group they had formed a few years back. At more than one moment I wished I was seated next to him.
Unfortunately, I plunked down at the end of the booth next to Jennifer. As in Jennifer Syme, Keanu’s girlfriend. I had never met her before and when she was first brought up in the conversation as well as her assistant job for David Lynch, I imagined a blonde woman who was sexy, articulate, and knew where she was headed in life. The dark haired, fair skinned woman who regarded me with an exhale of cigarette smoke was not who I had in mind.
When we stumbled through background lives, she casually mentioned she was twenty-two, and my jaw hit the table. Twenty-two? I at thirty looked younger than her, especially with the short bob I donned for Speed. As she waved around her cigarette and talked at length on the present subject, I realized how false her act truly was; merely a façade to appear older. Everyone else’s interest in her made me wonder if I was the only one who noticed she put up a front, or if I had somehow misinterpreted her actions.
Fast forward to the present moment. Sitting on his kitchen counter with a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies, knees brought up to my chest and leaning against the side of the fridge while I eye the cockroach scuttling around in the far corner of the room. I shiver in my thin tee shirt and wish I had brought my jacket in with me; the weather is chilly at night in November. I am alone.
I was in the living room, attempting to join in conversation now and then, but once they started talking about River my outsider status was established. The tragedy had only happened a couple weeks ago and the group was still grieving the loss of their friend. I couldn’t contribute; I didn’t know him and felt like an intruder on their memories. I quietly retreated to the kitchen, where I found the cookies and decided to drown my sorrows in calories.
I want to leave. However, we’ve only been at his apartment for about a half hour and I think it’d be odd to suddenly announce I was leaving. I decide to finish the cookies and then head back in. That should give them enough time to move onto another topic.
“I don’t know why they have to say shit like that.” I practically choke on the half of cookie in my mouth at the sound of Keanu’s voice. I slightly peek around the fridge, able to see him and Jennifer’s stand off, but I doubt they can see me.
“They don’t know what they’re saying. Calm down. Calm down.” Jennifer grabs him to stop his pacing and gently rubs his bicep. “Hey. Okay?” he won’t look at her but he nods.
“It’s crap. They’re just jealous.”
“They are. Look, they’re fucked up.” she sniffles; Keanu reaches out and affectionately wipes off her upper lip, just under her nostrils. Dust sprinkles off. Oh shit. Are they snorting cocaine? I am in a God damn crack house. It is time to go home. “You should do some tonight. At least the pot Derrek brought. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Not tonight. I got early call tomorrow.” I wonder how many times he’s used the excuse. Rather how many times he hasn’t. He cups her chin and kisses her. I turn away before they get too intimate.
She doesn’t deserve him.
The thought startles me. First, it’s obnoxious to presume a girl I met mere hours before isn’t good enough for Keanu. Second, it’s obvious he cares for her and that’s all that matters.
Look at her. She’s a fucked up mess, a cocaine addict, not going anywhere fast, certainly not ready for a serious relationship. Has she even gone to college?
Keanu dropped out of high school.
And? He’s successful. She’s pushing papers and answering phones.
It’s official; I have multiple personalities. I stare down at the Thin Mints, questioning their ingredients.
“Make everyone leave.” her voice is husky, demanding, sexy.
He chuckles a throaty laugh that shivers up my spine and curls the hair on the back of my neck. I suddenly desire dark, long curls and a more serious personality for myself. “They’ll leave soon enough.”
“Where’s that girl from the set?” I scowl. Hi, supporting role, thank you.
“Sandy? I think she went to the bathroom.”
A thud comes from the living room followed by peals of laughter.
“Better get back in there.”
“I’m going to grab another beer.” I bite my lip. Shit. Shit shit shit. They kiss, a sweet smack of the lips, and I mentally fumble a prayer. Will God grant temporary invisibility?
Dear God, if you could find it to-
“Those are weeks old.” he takes the cookies from me and tosses them into the trash.
“Hi.” my voice is a pathetic squeak. I dare to open my eyes. Well, he doesn’t look too mad.
He folds his arms. “You want to go home.”
“No, I’m ready to stay up all night; apparently you want me to go home. The after party is a two-person affair, I hear.” he doesn’t smile. “I want to go home.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
The staircase takes a year to descend. Keanu is naturally quiet. I am pondering how to get a grin out of him - the one where he shows all his teeth and loses five years on his age. It’s a game I play often. I calculate my surroundings and his proximity to me. Then, I pounce.
“They don’t like you at all.” I stop mid tickle cougar, balancing precariously a few steps above him. He steps off with a sigh and turns around. His serious expression does not change to see me. “That’s why.”
I straighten with a frown, but Keanu heads out the building. I jog to catch up with his quick, long strides.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a bad impression.”
He doesn’t respond. I don’t know him very well. I’ve gauged so far that sometimes a quiet Keanu means he’s thinking, while other times it means he’s steaming on the inside. My car isn’t parked very far, but his silence puts a chilly damper on an already cold evening. The half block stretches to four. I eagerly open my car door and slide inside despite icy leather seats. Keanu halts the door before I close it and leans in. I expect an apology for pushing unlikely friendships and a promise to clear things with me next time.
“We’re getting together tomorrow night; going to an art exhibit. Do you want to come?”
There’s a moment of silence because I wait for him to be joking. He just said they hated my guts and now we’re going on excursions together. No way. He’s on crack - not far from the truth, as I’ve unfortunately discovered tonight.
“Yeah …” I debate how to put it as nicely as possible. “… no. Maybe. Yeah no. Not gonna happen.”
“What?”
“They hate me. And frankly, I’m not too thrilled about spending more time with them either.”
“Okay.” I wonder if he really understands.
“You get why, right?” I push the fact. “They alienated me.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” he shuts the door but I roll down the window.
“They hate me!”
“5:00AM!” he can be so naive, always avoiding conflict, preferring to ignore the tensions in his life and focus on the positive.
“I was a joke to them!” half of me is out of the window, grinning, watching him turn in circles, arms spread out wide, on the empty street.
“You are a joke!” he stops, genuflects in my general direction, and stands to salute me. “Til’ tomorrow.”
Fandom: Real Person
Characters: Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock
Prompt: #44; Exile.
Word Count: 1,568
Rating: PG-13
Summary: While filming Speed, Sandra meets Keanu's gang.
Author's Notes: Tee hee; Keanu's got a gang. And yeah, I don't know them. This is just how I think it should be.
I wish I hadn’t followed them back to his apartment. I had hesitated when asked, partially for Jennifer’s attitude and partially because, well … the word exile definitely came to mind when I considered their approach towards me. Freezers were warmer than these people. They tolerated me for the sake of Keanu and his desperate attempt to bring me into his tight circle of friends.
But all his weak similarities between me and them (I saw them not as individuals, but a collective group dead set against me) didn’t help. Bottom line I was not serious enough. When it came to acting, yes, that was my job and I respected it, but I didn’t make a habit of sitting around and talking about the ethics of movies today and how “the man” was out to get us. They did.
It was a failure from the beginning. I came late. I always come late because I fear standing alone and looking like a loser. So I arrived at ten after, sitting down with a grin and making a joke about traffic. A terrible joke because it was nine at night and there was no traffic. One muttered something about rudely interrupting them and they returned to their conversation about office politics.
Most were struggling actors and musicians by night, holding peon jobs during the day in hopes of making connections in ‘Emerald City’ as they constantly referred to Hollywood. I assumed they were referring to Hollywood. My favorite was Bret, an easygoing guy who was constantly persuading Keanu to continue playing bass in the group they had formed a few years back. At more than one moment I wished I was seated next to him.
Unfortunately, I plunked down at the end of the booth next to Jennifer. As in Jennifer Syme, Keanu’s girlfriend. I had never met her before and when she was first brought up in the conversation as well as her assistant job for David Lynch, I imagined a blonde woman who was sexy, articulate, and knew where she was headed in life. The dark haired, fair skinned woman who regarded me with an exhale of cigarette smoke was not who I had in mind.
When we stumbled through background lives, she casually mentioned she was twenty-two, and my jaw hit the table. Twenty-two? I at thirty looked younger than her, especially with the short bob I donned for Speed. As she waved around her cigarette and talked at length on the present subject, I realized how false her act truly was; merely a façade to appear older. Everyone else’s interest in her made me wonder if I was the only one who noticed she put up a front, or if I had somehow misinterpreted her actions.
Fast forward to the present moment. Sitting on his kitchen counter with a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies, knees brought up to my chest and leaning against the side of the fridge while I eye the cockroach scuttling around in the far corner of the room. I shiver in my thin tee shirt and wish I had brought my jacket in with me; the weather is chilly at night in November. I am alone.
I was in the living room, attempting to join in conversation now and then, but once they started talking about River my outsider status was established. The tragedy had only happened a couple weeks ago and the group was still grieving the loss of their friend. I couldn’t contribute; I didn’t know him and felt like an intruder on their memories. I quietly retreated to the kitchen, where I found the cookies and decided to drown my sorrows in calories.
I want to leave. However, we’ve only been at his apartment for about a half hour and I think it’d be odd to suddenly announce I was leaving. I decide to finish the cookies and then head back in. That should give them enough time to move onto another topic.
“I don’t know why they have to say shit like that.” I practically choke on the half of cookie in my mouth at the sound of Keanu’s voice. I slightly peek around the fridge, able to see him and Jennifer’s stand off, but I doubt they can see me.
“They don’t know what they’re saying. Calm down. Calm down.” Jennifer grabs him to stop his pacing and gently rubs his bicep. “Hey. Okay?” he won’t look at her but he nods.
“It’s crap. They’re just jealous.”
“They are. Look, they’re fucked up.” she sniffles; Keanu reaches out and affectionately wipes off her upper lip, just under her nostrils. Dust sprinkles off. Oh shit. Are they snorting cocaine? I am in a God damn crack house. It is time to go home. “You should do some tonight. At least the pot Derrek brought. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Not tonight. I got early call tomorrow.” I wonder how many times he’s used the excuse. Rather how many times he hasn’t. He cups her chin and kisses her. I turn away before they get too intimate.
She doesn’t deserve him.
The thought startles me. First, it’s obnoxious to presume a girl I met mere hours before isn’t good enough for Keanu. Second, it’s obvious he cares for her and that’s all that matters.
Look at her. She’s a fucked up mess, a cocaine addict, not going anywhere fast, certainly not ready for a serious relationship. Has she even gone to college?
Keanu dropped out of high school.
And? He’s successful. She’s pushing papers and answering phones.
It’s official; I have multiple personalities. I stare down at the Thin Mints, questioning their ingredients.
“Make everyone leave.” her voice is husky, demanding, sexy.
He chuckles a throaty laugh that shivers up my spine and curls the hair on the back of my neck. I suddenly desire dark, long curls and a more serious personality for myself. “They’ll leave soon enough.”
“Where’s that girl from the set?” I scowl. Hi, supporting role, thank you.
“Sandy? I think she went to the bathroom.”
A thud comes from the living room followed by peals of laughter.
“Better get back in there.”
“I’m going to grab another beer.” I bite my lip. Shit. Shit shit shit. They kiss, a sweet smack of the lips, and I mentally fumble a prayer. Will God grant temporary invisibility?
Dear God, if you could find it to-
“Those are weeks old.” he takes the cookies from me and tosses them into the trash.
“Hi.” my voice is a pathetic squeak. I dare to open my eyes. Well, he doesn’t look too mad.
He folds his arms. “You want to go home.”
“No, I’m ready to stay up all night; apparently you want me to go home. The after party is a two-person affair, I hear.” he doesn’t smile. “I want to go home.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
The staircase takes a year to descend. Keanu is naturally quiet. I am pondering how to get a grin out of him - the one where he shows all his teeth and loses five years on his age. It’s a game I play often. I calculate my surroundings and his proximity to me. Then, I pounce.
“They don’t like you at all.” I stop mid tickle cougar, balancing precariously a few steps above him. He steps off with a sigh and turns around. His serious expression does not change to see me. “That’s why.”
I straighten with a frown, but Keanu heads out the building. I jog to catch up with his quick, long strides.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a bad impression.”
He doesn’t respond. I don’t know him very well. I’ve gauged so far that sometimes a quiet Keanu means he’s thinking, while other times it means he’s steaming on the inside. My car isn’t parked very far, but his silence puts a chilly damper on an already cold evening. The half block stretches to four. I eagerly open my car door and slide inside despite icy leather seats. Keanu halts the door before I close it and leans in. I expect an apology for pushing unlikely friendships and a promise to clear things with me next time.
“We’re getting together tomorrow night; going to an art exhibit. Do you want to come?”
There’s a moment of silence because I wait for him to be joking. He just said they hated my guts and now we’re going on excursions together. No way. He’s on crack - not far from the truth, as I’ve unfortunately discovered tonight.
“Yeah …” I debate how to put it as nicely as possible. “… no. Maybe. Yeah no. Not gonna happen.”
“What?”
“They hate me. And frankly, I’m not too thrilled about spending more time with them either.”
“Okay.” I wonder if he really understands.
“You get why, right?” I push the fact. “They alienated me.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” he shuts the door but I roll down the window.
“They hate me!”
“5:00AM!” he can be so naive, always avoiding conflict, preferring to ignore the tensions in his life and focus on the positive.
“I was a joke to them!” half of me is out of the window, grinning, watching him turn in circles, arms spread out wide, on the empty street.
“You are a joke!” he stops, genuflects in my general direction, and stands to salute me. “Til’ tomorrow.”