RPF - Jeremy Piven/Brittany Lucas - "On Sunset Boulevard"
Title: On Sunset Boulevard
Fandom: Real Person Fiction
Friendship: Jeremy Piven and Brittany Lucas
Pairings: references to Brittany/Josh Lucas and a past Brittany/Jeremy relationship
Prompt: “It’s a long story.” “They always are.”
Rating: PG-13 for language and some sexual references
Word Count: 797
Summary: Now they're gonna fly.
Disclaimer: I don’t know any of these people, and to my knowledge, none of them know each other, either. This never happened. Also, Brittany Lucas doesn’t even exist.
Author’s Notes: Based on an ongoing storyline in an RPG. All events are fictional even if the people are real. The explanation is under the cut, before the story. Can be said to follow Right In Front Of You. Title and lyrics are from the Scott Grimes song "Sunset Blvd.," which inspired this fic. Spoilers for last night's Emmy Awards.
On Sunset Boulevard
It's a complete three-ring circus at the auditorium, and as the show breaks up, it takes him ten minutes to figure out where his date has disappeared to, with little more of an explanation than "I need to step outside and get some air."
"Hey, what's wrong?" Jeremy asks her when he finds her sitting outside the Emmy tent sobbing, and Brittany just looks at him with all the pride and love and respect in the world. He understands, nothing needing to be said as he pulls her to her feet and into his arms, holding her gently while she lets all the emotions rush out of her.
He thought she'd get something good out of being here, and he's glad that he was right.
Brittany pulls back and she smiles at him as he's wiping the tears off her cheeks. "You crazy son of a bitch," she says, voice shaking with the laughter of disbelief. "I'm so proud of you."
He presses his lips to her forehead, and mutters, "Thank you, babe." It's not like this isn't a lot to handle for him, either. With his mother being there, and the memory of his late father still very much in his mind, and the sheer shock of it all. It's okay for them both to be emotional.
It's just the two of them now.
"Come on," he says quietly, "we've got some parties to go to. And I wanna say goodbye to my mom."
She lets him wrap his arm around her shoulders and walk her back toward the burgeoning crowds. Neither of them say anything, because neither of them are really in this moment. He's thinking about his father, and his whole fucking life as he knows it. She's thinking about how she gave up everything to be here, how she used to grow up watching him on TV and saying she was going to meet him someday.
The goodbyes are quiet and heartfelt, as if no one really wants to let go of this moment, lest it all be a dream and none of it has ever happened at all.
Is it over or is it just beginning?
There's no one left on the red carpet, just ghosts and unspoken dreams, and maybe that's why she decides that now is the right time. That night, Emmy night, in the middle of all the gift baskets and bullshit and glamour, when he wins and her heroes get their names called and she's sitting next to his mother, Brittany has an epiphany that this is what life is, and she decides to bare her soul, telling him where all the world can hear, "I love you, Jeremy, and I always will."
He stops dead and looks at her for a long moment. At her, and into her.
This isn't the first time she's said those words. She said them once before, in Las Vegas, when she told him she'd throw it all away for him. They've spent so much time in each other's arms and thoughts and prayers that the line is so blurred neither of them can see straight. She loves him.
And she knows he's never gonna love her quite that way.
He wishes that he could, but he can't. And she's realized that he won't. But that's not why she's saying it now. He's looking into her eyes, and he understands what she really means. That moment, with their hearts both full of a thousand different things, everything in their eyes, he can see everything about her. There's nothing left to hide. If they can't be lovers, they can sure as hell be good friends.
He swallows hard. "I love you, too," he says softly.
She smiles.
Then she reaches over, grabs his hand, and tugs him along. "Let's get the hell out of here," she advises.
"Where to? Somewhere with a large alcohol content?" he asks hopefully.
She just laughs. "I wanna just drive," she says. "Drive and sing at the top of my lungs."
He looks over at her, and a sly smile forms on his lips. "I think I can get behind that."
Then it's three in the morning fuck knows where in L.A., and h's got one eye on the road and the other on her, her head tipped back, hair blowing in the wind as she sings along with the song that definitely sounds like it was written for her to belt out; he doesn't have to say a word, one hand on the wheel and the other holding hers as she finally lets go.
"Down on Sunset Boulevard, we're gonna leave it all behind..."
Fandom: Real Person Fiction
Friendship: Jeremy Piven and Brittany Lucas
Pairings: references to Brittany/Josh Lucas and a past Brittany/Jeremy relationship
Prompt: “It’s a long story.” “They always are.”
Rating: PG-13 for language and some sexual references
Word Count: 797
Summary: Now they're gonna fly.
Disclaimer: I don’t know any of these people, and to my knowledge, none of them know each other, either. This never happened. Also, Brittany Lucas doesn’t even exist.
Author’s Notes: Based on an ongoing storyline in an RPG. All events are fictional even if the people are real. The explanation is under the cut, before the story. Can be said to follow Right In Front Of You. Title and lyrics are from the Scott Grimes song "Sunset Blvd.," which inspired this fic. Spoilers for last night's Emmy Awards.
On Sunset Boulevard
It's a complete three-ring circus at the auditorium, and as the show breaks up, it takes him ten minutes to figure out where his date has disappeared to, with little more of an explanation than "I need to step outside and get some air."
"Hey, what's wrong?" Jeremy asks her when he finds her sitting outside the Emmy tent sobbing, and Brittany just looks at him with all the pride and love and respect in the world. He understands, nothing needing to be said as he pulls her to her feet and into his arms, holding her gently while she lets all the emotions rush out of her.
He thought she'd get something good out of being here, and he's glad that he was right.
Brittany pulls back and she smiles at him as he's wiping the tears off her cheeks. "You crazy son of a bitch," she says, voice shaking with the laughter of disbelief. "I'm so proud of you."
He presses his lips to her forehead, and mutters, "Thank you, babe." It's not like this isn't a lot to handle for him, either. With his mother being there, and the memory of his late father still very much in his mind, and the sheer shock of it all. It's okay for them both to be emotional.
It's just the two of them now.
"Come on," he says quietly, "we've got some parties to go to. And I wanna say goodbye to my mom."
She lets him wrap his arm around her shoulders and walk her back toward the burgeoning crowds. Neither of them say anything, because neither of them are really in this moment. He's thinking about his father, and his whole fucking life as he knows it. She's thinking about how she gave up everything to be here, how she used to grow up watching him on TV and saying she was going to meet him someday.
The goodbyes are quiet and heartfelt, as if no one really wants to let go of this moment, lest it all be a dream and none of it has ever happened at all.
Is it over or is it just beginning?
There's no one left on the red carpet, just ghosts and unspoken dreams, and maybe that's why she decides that now is the right time. That night, Emmy night, in the middle of all the gift baskets and bullshit and glamour, when he wins and her heroes get their names called and she's sitting next to his mother, Brittany has an epiphany that this is what life is, and she decides to bare her soul, telling him where all the world can hear, "I love you, Jeremy, and I always will."
He stops dead and looks at her for a long moment. At her, and into her.
This isn't the first time she's said those words. She said them once before, in Las Vegas, when she told him she'd throw it all away for him. They've spent so much time in each other's arms and thoughts and prayers that the line is so blurred neither of them can see straight. She loves him.
And she knows he's never gonna love her quite that way.
He wishes that he could, but he can't. And she's realized that he won't. But that's not why she's saying it now. He's looking into her eyes, and he understands what she really means. That moment, with their hearts both full of a thousand different things, everything in their eyes, he can see everything about her. There's nothing left to hide. If they can't be lovers, they can sure as hell be good friends.
He swallows hard. "I love you, too," he says softly.
She smiles.
Then she reaches over, grabs his hand, and tugs him along. "Let's get the hell out of here," she advises.
"Where to? Somewhere with a large alcohol content?" he asks hopefully.
She just laughs. "I wanna just drive," she says. "Drive and sing at the top of my lungs."
He looks over at her, and a sly smile forms on his lips. "I think I can get behind that."
Then it's three in the morning fuck knows where in L.A., and h's got one eye on the road and the other on her, her head tipped back, hair blowing in the wind as she sings along with the song that definitely sounds like it was written for her to belt out; he doesn't have to say a word, one hand on the wheel and the other holding hers as she finally lets go.
"Down on Sunset Boulevard, we're gonna leave it all behind..."