(500) Days Of Jesse - Part Five
Title: (500) Days Of Jesse
Part: Five
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jewnicorn/(500) Days Of Summer crossover. Loosely based on the plot of the film.
Disclaimer: Never happened, all a figment of my imagination. I am not affiliated with anyone mentioned in this work of fiction. (500) Days Of Summer is property of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
A/N: Remember to pay close attention to the numbers before each section, they denote the number of days that Andrew and Jesse have known one another at each point -same as the film, of course- it'll help you in keeping track of where they are on their 500 day timeline :)
Previous: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
~
(191)
Andrew’s theatre group don’t have a proper theatre to perform in, with a proper stage to perform on, with red velvet curtains and all the rest. Instead, they set up a hall in downtown Queens so that the play takes place in a large space in the middle, whilst the audience surrounds them, sat in a large square so that the action can be seen from all angles, no one ever gets a bad view.
It’s opening night, and they’ve reached the final scene, in which Rodolpho’s brother, Marco -played by Andrew’s friend, Josh- stabs the lead character, Eddie, with his own knife. It’s emotional and tensions run high and the audience gasp as it happens. Then Andrew, as Rodopho, grips his hair in terror and freezes, along with the other actors as the lights above them go down, a spot light illuminates his friend Andy -who's been cast as Alfieri, the lawyer- on the corner of the performance space as he gives the final speech of the play. The spotlight goes down for the final time, and the audience burst into applause and cheers.
After a few minutes, the lights have come on throughout the hall, and all of the actors, even the ones that weren’t in the last scene, have come out to take their bows and such. John, the director, comes out, gives a speech, and credits the actors one by one, each of them earning their own set of personal applause.
“Your boyfriend’s out there isn’t he?” Josh says from Andrew’s side, he’s as tall as Jesse’s friend, Armie, so he has to lean down quite a bit.
“Yeah, and a few others, I think,” Andrew replies, smiling and still slightly out of breath from the performance. He scans the rows of people around him, looking for everyone.
By ‘a few others’, Andrew really means ‘all of my friends including some of Jesse’s’. Waiting patiently in the theatre for the play to begin are: Jesse himself, Emma (with boyfriend, Ryan), Joe (with Carey, the receptionist at his veterinary practice, this is supposed to be a date, apparently), Justin, Armie and Elizabeth. Aziz was invited, but he, of course, had to work.
“Josh Pence as Marco!” John cries. Josh takes a few steps forward, bows, and repeats the process three more times, turning to face each side of the room. North, East, South, West. The audience applaud him.
Josh returns to his full height and leans over to speak to Andrew.
“Where is he? Your boyfriend?”
“Right…” Andrew squints to see into the darkness covering the audience, then he spots him, pointing excitedly “…there!”
“Andrew Garfield as Rodolpho!”
Andrew does the same as Josh, and all the while he can hear the guys cheering his name, especially Armie, with his booming voice. “Go Andrew!”
John gets through all of the other actors, thanks everyone who worked behind the scenes, and the audience for coming, then everyone is allowed to leave or mingle.
Jesse comes speeding almost out of no where, throws himself into Andrew’s arms without a care in the world and kisses him full on the lips in front of everyone, which results in more cheers and more clapping.
“What was that for?” Andrew asks breathlessly as Jesse pulls away, his arms around Andrew’s neck.
“You were amazing! You did so well!” Jesse cries, smiling so hard his face may split in two, he’s looking up at Andrew as if he’s the best, most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and shakes his head fondly. “I love you so much.”
Andrew smiles and kisses him on the forehead, holding him close. “I love you too.”
(328)
“…Andrew Garfield as Tybalt!”
He takes his bows.
It all runs like clockwork now, he’s practically a robot.
It’ll be weeks and weeks of this same shit over and over again, night after night. In the dressing room waiting for his cue, a brief pep talk from Josh who managed to get the part of Romeo -lucky bastard- then the actual play, then the bows, the forced smile, the feigned enthusiasm.
On the opening night of A View From The Bridge, he’d had to squint to find Jesse in the front row, but now, even with the bright stage lights blinding him, Andrew knows that Jesse won’t be there, and never will be.
(299)
“Andrew, not to offend you, but we just don’t think that you’re…” John seems to have trouble phrasing what he wants to say, he squints as if it causes him actual pain to say “… we just don’t think you’re right for the part.”
Andrew closes the script and looks up, hurt. “What do you mean?”
“The character of Romeo is meant to be head over heels in love, but when you read the lines just then, it sounded as though you just liked Juliet at best.”
Andrew slumps, he can’t even look at them, at John the director and his pair of producers, Hannah and Paul, sat behind the table before him, judging him. Of all the parts in all the plays in all the world, he’d always figured that Romeo would be the one that he’d always be right for, he knew the lines by heart, he knew exactly how to play it. Jesse loved it. Except, Jesse’s not around any more.
“What happened?” Hannah asks, voice soft as if she’s afraid she could anger him somehow.
Andrew looks up, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“You were amazing as Rodolpho, but you seem to be… missing something now,“ she replies, face arranged into a look of great sympathy. “What’s happened to you?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, face blank. A complete lie.
“You sure?” She doesn’t sound as if she believes him.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he nods, closing his eyes.
“Okay… well, um, we do think you’d be great as Tybalt, what do you think?”
“Tybalt?” Andrew asks with mild disgust.
“Yeah?”
“That’s… fine. Yeah,“ He figures he might as well accept it, anything to get out of here sooner. He thanks them for their time, and leaves, knowing that they’re all watching him, foreheads wrinkled with worry.
(331)
Everyone at the table is experiencing a mild case of déjà vu. Yep, every single one of them has been in a similar situation before, a situation that occurred only months ago. In fact, they were sat at this very same table last time. Emma places three cups of coffee down in front of Justin, Joe, and Andrew. Justin gets foam in his facial hair, Joe adds at least five sachets of Sweet‘n Low to his drink, and Andrew sits there staring out of window, eyes glazed over, thoughts buzzing around his head at a millions miles per hour.
Then, he takes a deep breath in through his nose and turns to the others.
“I hate Jesse.”
Emma almost drops her tray, Joe splutters, getting coffee all down himself.
“What?”
“I do,” Andrew nods firmly, gritting his teeth. “I really hate him.”
Justin turns to Joe, and gulps visibly as Andrew continues on without really looking at any of them, voice full of malice.
“I hate how his stupid hair used get all in my face when we hugged. I hate the noises he makes when he eats, like this weird sloppy, slapping sound. Disgusting. I hate his awful, nasal laugh. I hate how he always talked in his sleep and kept me up all night. I hate his pretentious, “I’m better than everyone else because I don’t watch TV” attitude. I hate him for ruining Green Day for me. I can’t listen to them any more.” Andrew looks at the others with wide eyes, waiting for them to agree about that last part being the worst part. He gets nothing but incredulous stares in return, so he shrugs and carries on regardless. “I hate him for making me feel this way.”
After a moment or two of silence, in which the tension in tangible, Emma huffs in defeat and sits down next to Andrew.
“Andrew,“ she says. He doesn’t look at her, so she grabs his face and forces him to turn her way. Her green eyes are fierce, staring straight into his. “Listen. I know you, and I know for a fact that you don’t mean any of that.”
Wrenching his chin out of her grasp, he says, “I mean it.”
Andrew’s a liar.
(402)
Andrew had received his invitation to the wedding months ago, he and Jesse were still together and they’d come up with all these plans. The gift they were going to buy (silverware, such a cliché), how they were going to make their way up to the hotel in which it’s being held, the outfits they were going to wear. They’d even made sure that they coordinated without making it look as though that was what they were trying to do. They’d both bought suits and train tickets down to Suffolk County in Long Island, where Armie and Elizabeth’s wedding is to take place.
They’d mapped out the entire thing, but they’d failed to plan what they would do if they were to split, which was something neither of them had been anticipating.
Andrew sticks the invitation back into its envelope and stuffs it into his back pocket as he leaves his apartment, an over-night bag slung over one shoulder and his outfit in a suit bag over the other. He’d been thinking this over for weeks, whether or not he was still going to this thing. For the first week or so it seemed to be a no-brainer, no way in hell was he going. He’d see Jesse there and it’d be awkward and painful, but then he started to think about how he’d spent so much money on the suit, and the shoes to go with it, the train ticket, and the hotel room. He doesn’t want to put that to waste.
(He’d actually called the hotel a couple of days ago to see if maybe they could change his and Jesse’s shared room reservation to a reservation of two separate rooms. Turns out that Jesse had beaten him to it, and had already arranged for them to stay apart.)
Also, Andrew had promised Elizabeth that he’d come the day he’d gotten the invite, the day that she called just to make sure he’d received it. Andrew’s not one to break promises, and if he sees Jesse there? Well, then he’ll just have to deal with it (or quite possibly run away and cry) because he’s got to get over him some time.
***
He’s here. He’s on the same fucking train. He’s here.
Andrew only boarded around thirty seconds ago, and he’s already seen him. Well, not him so much as the top of his ridiculously curly head. Andrew hasn’t even seen his face yet, but he just knows that the guy sat in the aisle seat about ten feet ahead of him is Jesse. It’s got to be. If it is just some other curly-haired guy boarding a train from Queens to Suffolk County on the exact same day, at the exact same time as Andrew, well the fine, Andrew will just have to change his whole belief system, accept that fate is non-existent and that coincidences really do happen.
Except this isn’t just some coincidence, this is definitely Jesse. Andrew knows that head too well.
“Shit,” he says to himself below breath.
What is going to do now? He turns around to check the carriage behind him. It appears to be full and there aren’t any other carriages behind that one. This means only one thing, he’s going to have to go onwards and walk straight past Jesse.
I did not sign on for this, he thinks. He imagines that this entire train ride is going to be filled with John Dorian-esque internal voice-overs. After taking only a few small steps, Jesse turns to look out of the window on the other side of the train, perhaps to check the time on the giant clock on the platform, and gives Andrew a perfect profile shot.
Andrew halts, like a deer in headlights, completely frozen, afraid to move on.
God, he’d forgotten how gorgeous Jesse is.
Look the other way, look the other way, look the other way. Don’t look at me!
Eventually, after what seems like forever, Jesse casually turns to face forward. Andrew begins to walk again, on tiptoes, like something out of a stupid cartoon. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. He lifts his suit bag up to hide the right side of his face as he passes his ex.
He feels ridiculous, admittedly. Only this morning had he psyched himself up for what was going to happen today. He knew that he’d be seeing Jesse at the wedding, but at least then he could try to avoid him. It‘s going to be a big thing, lots of guests to get lost in, an opportunity to leave altogether if need be. But he hadn’t planned on running into him on the train ride up. A train, pretty much inescapable whilst in motion, and quite small. He could go sit right in the first carriage, but Jesse could still walk up and find him there.
He can’t escape.
About nine rows ahead of Jesse, he finds two empty seats on the left side of the train, and slings himself into them, breathing heavily once he lands, chest heaving.
Please don’t say he’s seen me, please don’t say he’s seen me.
Apparently, he hasn’t. Well, Andrew doesn’t know that for sure, but he figures that if Jesse had’ve spotted him, then he would have come over by now. Then, Andrew thinks that what if Jesse has seen him, and is just reacting to it in the same way as Andrew, i.e. by freaking out and refusing to move? Andrew’s this close to hyperventilating, and since that could possibly cause a scene if he were to continue and eventually pass out, he gets his iPod out of his bag and sticks his headphones on. Hopefully some music will serve as a decent distraction.
It doesn’t.
Three and half songs into his supposed ‘Feel Good’ playlist, and all Andrew has managed to think about is Jesse, damn you Beyoncé! He’s meant to be over him, he’s meant to hate him for crying out loud. He just… really wants to look at him again, just for a second.
It’s a terrible analogy, but this situation is similar to when he said he was going to start eating healthily last year, but then Emma brought cupcakes over. He’d said he’d just have one. What’s the harm, right? Before he knew it, he’d downed seven in rapid succession. The same sort of thing could happen now. Sure, he could steal a quick glance at Jesse, but that could lead to a slightly longer glance, which in turn could lead to full blown staring, and, before he‘s even realised what‘s happened, he’ll have fallen in love with him all over again.
Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t you dare look a-
Too late. Andrew’s already turned around, peeking one eye around the edge of his seat like a creepy stalker man. Jesse’s in a faded red t-shirt and jeans. Since it’s early Spring he isn’t wearing a jacket, his arms look all toned and delicious. The sun shines in through the window and illuminates his calm, expressionless face like he’s some sort of angel, the light reflecting off of his eyes, making them appear bluer. Andrew notices his hands tapping out a rhythm on his knees, and he soon realises that Jesse’s got his iPod in too, probably listening to Green Day.
Andrew’s stomach clenches and he quickly turns back to face front, he’s noticed way too many details which probably means that he’d been looking at him for way too long. Though, before he knows it, his resolve is broken and he’s back to boring holes in Jesse’s chest with his eyes. He’s onto that seventh cupcake.
Jesse looks up, they make eye contact.
FUCK!
He feels his eyes widen almost instantly and spins back around in his seat. That’s it, he’s done for, he’s had his seven cupcakes and now it’s time to down an entire birthday cake because from the look he’d just seen on Jesse’s face -brief surprise and a quick ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ head tilt- Andrew just knows that he’s coming over, he’s going to be here any second. He looks down at his thighs. If I can’t see him, he can’t see me.
Wrong.
He can see Jesse’s legs, he’s stood up right in front of Andrew. Then, he hears some muffled speech, and realises that he’s still got his headphones on, Beyoncé‘s still singing about halo‘s. He pulls them off, and looks up.
“Hey,” Jesse smiles.
‘Hey?’ ‘Hey?’ Are you fucking kidding me? You break my heart, forget to contact me for months, leave me in a pit of unbroken despair, and all you have to say to me is ‘Hey’? Andrew now has the potential to explode from anger, but it doesn’t show on his face, and clearly not in his voice either because when he opens his mouth to speak, all that comes out is…
“Hey.”
It’s best to play it nonchalant, right? Act as though Jesse hasn’t had any effect on Andrew’s life at all, that should make him feel bad… right?
“You’re still going, then?” Jesse says, eyeing Andrew’s suit, folded up in a bag next to him. “To the wedding?”
“Well yeah… I promised Elizabeth, didn’t I?” Then, as a sly little dig -he can‘t help it- he says, “I don’t let people down.”
“Yeah.” Finally, Jesse looks away, focussing his attention on some unseen thing a couple of feet above Andrew‘s head. He grips at the headrest of the seat he‘s leaning against with a little too much force. “Um… so how’s work, the acting and stuff?”
“Still working at the bar. As far as the acting goes, we‘re doing Romeo and Juliet now, “ Andrew laughs without any real humour, “can you believe it?“
“Really?“ Jesse smiles, “that’s perfect, I wish I had time to see it.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m gonna assume that you’re Romeo, right?“
“No, Tybalt,” Andrew admits, to which Jesse reacts with visible shock. “I auditioned for Romeo, but they said that I wasn’t convincing enough.“
“Convincing at what?“ Jesse asks, voice high-pitched with disbelief.
Andrew shrugs, looking at Jesse‘s chest rather than his eyes. “Being in love? I don’t know.”
“But you were so good as Rodolpho,” Jesse says, using the encouraging tone that a mother would use to comfort an upset child.
“I know, but things change…” Andrew turns, looks out of the window beside him.
Wow, this is awkward. Less so than Andrew had expected, but that doesn‘t make this situation any less uncomfortable. A few months ago they were having shower sex and professing their love for one another. Now, it‘s just painful.
Part of him wants to ignore Jesse, tell him to go away, make him feel bad. But, a second part of Andrew is just dying to have a conversation with him again because -and this current conversation doesn‘t really attest to this fact -Jesse is the most interesting person Andrew‘s ever met. (There‘s also the fact that he doesn’t really hate him and secretly -or not so secretly- still has feelings for him). This second part of him is the same part of him that forced him to stare longingly at Jesse a few minutes ago, so guess who wins this internal battle.
“What about you, though? Barnes and Noble, your plays?” He asks, still not quite meeting Jesse’s eye. Truth be told, Andrew’s stomach is kind of in the middle of trying to turn itself inside out, or so he assumes from the weird nauseous feeling he’s experiencing.
Jesse nods. “Still there. The play writing’s going great, though. I finished one a couple of weeks back, so I’ve sent it around a few places, seeing if anyone will produce it. It‘s called Asuncion.”
Damn, not exactly what Andrew was hoping to hear, he was hoping that Jesse too had been feeling all apathetic and melancholy over these last few months, totally incapable of doing anything creative.
Jesse shrugs. “It’s unlikely though, I doubt anyone but my mother will think it’s any good.”
Andrew smiles, and the words pour out before he‘s even realised what he‘s saying. “I’d wager that it’s better than you think.”
“You’re such an optimist, Andrew.” Jesse smiles, looking down at his feet now. His voice is soft and quiet, which reminds Andrew of a few of their more private moments. “I always liked that about you.”
Andrew’s not quite sure what to say to that, so he just sits back in his seat -he’s only just noticed that he’d been eagerly leaning forward- and waits, leaving Jesse’s last statement hanging awkwardly in the air.
“Hey,” Jesse says again. “Do you, do you want to grab some coffee or -well, I’m getting tea- but you could… get some coffee, with me. So yeah, would you… like to?”
“I guess so, yeah,” Andrew replies, getting up a little too quickly. What‘s the worst that could happen, right? He smiles. “Yeah, okay.”
“Awesome! I’m so glad we can do this now.”
We could’ve been doing this for months if you hadn’t have broken up with me, Andrew thinks, following Jesse down the aisle like a little lost puppy. He’s not really sure about how he’s supposed to feel right now. He’s angry about having his heart broken, though at the same time he’s just happy to be in Jesse’s company again. The happiness is slowly blocking out the anger, erasing it altogether.
Andrew can’t even count the amount of times he’s watched ridiculous soap operas and wondered why in the hell the silly girls would want to get back together with the guys who rip out their hearts and smush them into the ground.
Now though, Andrew’s beginning to understand how they feel. Once you really fall in love with someone, they just take you over.
***
No word of a lie, Andrew cried during the ceremony. He cried when Elizabeth came down the aisle, he cried at the way Armie looked at her -as if someone had plucked an angel from the heavens and presented her to him- he cried during the vows, he cried when they kissed. Basically, it was a non-stop tear fest, but he had a smile on his face the whole time despite the fact that he was vaguely jealous and had Jesse sat right next to him. He wasn’t embarrassed about crying in front of him.
It didn’t feel wrong having Jesse there, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt right. Back on the train, after the uncomfortable initial encounter, everything only got better. They got coffee and tea, Jesse moved from his seat to sit with Andrew, and they just talked. Sure, there was no mention of the fact that they used to date, they just spoke about work, friends, music, Jesse's play, all of the new records Andrew has procured for his vinyl player. For the first time in a long time things started to feel normal, or as close to normal as they could possibly get.
The wedding had taken place outside of the hotel at dusk, on the grass between two oak trees. White, spindly chairs were set up for the guests, strings of fairy lights hung over head, strung between the branches, white roses, ribbons, streamers everywhere. It was perfect, it wasn’t even Andrew’s wedding, but even so, he felt elated to know that he’d be sharing such a beautiful night with Jesse.
Now, they’re sat in one of the larger function rooms for the reception. Speeches, buffet food, Armie and Elizabeth circulating, kids running around, dancing. Andrew and Jesse however, accepted glasses of champagne from a nearby waiter and sat down to catch up some more.
“Come on then, bring it on. Do your worst,” Andrew leans back in his chair and takes a deep drink of his champagne, almost emptying the glass as he does it, never taking his eyes off of Jesse.
He looks positively delicious tonight, dressed up in a dark, well-cut suit, no tie, checked shirt unbuttoned just enough to give Andrew a halfway decent view of his collarbones. Andrew is dressed similarly, except his shirt plain white and he’s wearing a tie. Basically, he just wants to grab Jesse, throw him onto this table and tear him out of clothes. Sure, they’re surrounded by children aged no more than nine years, and doing that would probably mess them up for a lifetime, but it’d probably be worth it.
Jesse smirks, looking away as he says, “your hair looks ridiculous in the morning.”
“It really isn’t that bad!” Andrew cries, sitting forward.
“Yes it is,“ Jesse replies, eyes following eight year old Jamie as he walks around their table in a little tux. “It doesn’t even look like accidental bedhead, it’s as if someone has actually gone out of their way to shove their hands into your hair and mess it up.” Jesse turns to Andrew once more. “It’s so ridiculous that it almost crosses the line back to cute, but it doesn’t. It’s literally a mess.”
“Yeah, well…” Andrew’s eyes roam over Jesse’s body, trying to think of a good comeback. “You need to get new underwear.”
“What!?” Jesse gets a tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows as he frowns, Andrew adores it. “Why?”
“They’re way too small for you. Like, Jesse, men’s small is okay, but children’s large really isn’t. When you take them off you have these little red ridges in your skin from the waistband.”
“I do not buy children’s large.”
“You so do,” Andrew chuckles.
“You never complained about them before.”
“That’s because I knew that whenever I saw them I knew that I could probably get you out of them. Now, I can’t do that anymore. So yeah,” Andrew leans right into Jesse’s face, invading his personal space, eyes wide, “I’ve got a problem with them.”
Jamie walks behind them, patting both Andrew and Jesse on the head as he says, “Duck… duck…”
It had been Jesse’s idea to sit at the kids table. During the actual meal, everyone had set places, but once the reception finally got underway, the guests were free to roam around as they pleased. Jesse had said that he didn’t want to sit around making small talk with Elizabeth’s grandparents, so he suggested that he and Andrew hang out with the kids, since it’d be ‘way more fun’. After some whining from Armie’s little cousin/ring-bearer, Jamie, the pair of them have been coerced into an impromptu game of Duck, Duck, Goose.
“Well, at least I don’t live in band shirts,” Jesse retorts.
“I’m not wearing a band shirt right now,” Andrew says, leaning back and gesturing to his torso to make his point clear.
“Because it’s a wedding. You must wear one at least everyday otherwise. I mean, yeah, you have a few Green Day ones, but mostly you wear shirts that advertise bands that hardly anyone has heard of. You’re such a hipster.” Jesse arranges his face into an expression of haughty derision, and puts on his best British Accent. “Oh, Battles? They’re an avante garde rock band from New York, you’ve probably never heard of them.”
“I sound nothing like that!” Andrew laughs, which makes Jesse laugh, “and you’re totally pretentious too.” He tries his best to do an adequate impression of Jesse. “I don’t watch television, I don’t watch movies unless they’re by Woody Allen, I read obscure books written by Russian dissidents, I write plays.”
“Duck… duck…” Jamie says, passing them once more. It’s clear that the other kids around the table are getting bored, since he’s taking so long to pick out his goose.
“True, I can be a little pretentious,” Jesse concedes, nodding, “but you’re a messy eater! I couldn’t take you anywhere without you spilling something down yourself, and you always, always seemed to choose to wear white on the days we ate spaghetti, it’s almost like you were doing it on purpose.”
Andrew sits back, clearly running out of ideas. “Yeah, well, you….”
“Yeah?” Jesse says playfully, placing both hands onto the white clothed table and leaning forward.
“You…”
“I, what?” Jesse cocks an eyebrow, grinning. “Come on, tell me what you’ve got.”
“Give me a min- Ah!” Andrew points a finger in triumph. “The way you pick all of your food apart is really annoying.”
“Duck… Duck…”
“I don’t do it with everything.”
“Jesse, when you order a cheeseburger from McDonald’s, you take it apart, eat all of the salady stuff first, then the actual burger on its own, then you stick the two halves of your ketchup soaked bun together and eat those.”
“I’ve done it since I was a kid, I do it without even realising, it’s like a weird routine that I have,” Jesse shrugs helplessly.
It goes quiet between them for a moment. Andrew watches Jesse watching Jamie and tries his hardest to come up with as explanation as to why they’re not together any more, why Jesse broke up with him. Andrew knows it wasn’t his fault. Jesse said he was clingy, Jesse said that there was too much pressure, but looking back, he was never that clingy, there wasn’t that much pressure. Sure, there was the conversation about whether or not they were official boyfriends in Jesse’s car that time, but that went fine. Andrew just said that he did those things because he thought that if he took responsibility for Jesse’s imagined problems, then maybe he’d take him back.
It was never Andrew’s fault. Even if he was clingy, he’s sure that Jesse would have loved it, because he can just tell that Jesse has always craved affection, joy, and happiness like nothing else. Why else would he have chosen to sit with a bunch of children? They’re constantly happy, nothing worries them, they trust everyone and they’re so innocent. Every single one of them seems to like Jesse, and he seems to like that they like him. So it couldn’t have been Andrew that he had an issue with, because Andrew loved -no, still loves, he can admit that now- him like no other. It couldn’t have been the relationship either, because whilst they had their occasional fights, they were absolutely perfect together. Jesse was scared off by something a whole lot bigger. Andrew just wants to know what it was.
“Don’t think so hard, I think I can smell your hair a’burnin’.”
Andrew blinks, getting his eyes back into focus as he returns to the present. “I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s from Juno, we watched together at your place, remember? Also, you seemed to be thinking damn hard just then,” Jesse’s looking at him like he’s single most entertaining person in the world.
“I just spaced out,” Andrew replies, taking another sip of his drink.
“Okay…“ Jesse doesn’t seem all that convinced “…well, have you got any more for me?”
“I’m all out,” Andrew shakes his head, smiles. “What about you? Any more for me?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, the hair thing wasn’t annoying, it was just funny. I only ever had an issue with the excessive band shirts and messy eating.” Jesse smiles for the first time without any hint of sarcasm in his face, and nods. “Yeah, that’s it, Andrew. Those are your only flaws.”
Despite the fact that it‘d probably ruin all of this playful banter they‘ve got going on, Andrew opens his mouth to ask the one question that‘s been plaguing him for months. “Then why did you break up with m-”
“Goose!”
Jamie’s chosen Jesse. Before Andrew can so much as finish his sentence, Jesse is out of his seat, chasing the child around the huge twelve-seater table. Even though the opportunity to end all of his confusion had been ruined, Andrew can’t help but smile at Jesse, purposefully going slow so that Jamie can win. The latter plops down in Jesse’s seat, next to Andrew.
“No!” Jesse cries melodramatically, though he‘s still smiling. “You’re too fast!”
Jamie sticks his tongue out. “Jesse is a loser!”
“Whatever, you’re… “ Jesse’s clearly struggling to find an adequate insult. He stares long and hard at the kid “…short.”
“Says you?“ Andrew asks, chuckling.
Now Jesse’s the one sticking his tongue out. Jamie just laughs as Jesse begins his turn with Andrew. “Duck, duck, duck…”
***
Now? They’re at the bar towards the back of the room since it’s eleven thirty and Jamie and the other kids were carted off by their parents for bed. Lined up in front of them is a row of about a dozen tequila shots, accompanied by a salt shaker and a plate of cut up limes.
Jesse eyes everything wearily. After a few glasses of champagne, they’re a little tipsy but no where near drunk… yet. “You’ll have to explain this to me because I’ve never done one of these before, you‘re the expert.”
“It’s simple,” Andrew says, pouring a small pile of salt onto the back of Jesse‘s hand. He’s giggling for no apparent reason. “Salt, shot, lime. Go!”
Jesse does as he says, licking the salt of his hand, downing the shot, and sucking the juice out of a lime slice in rapid succession. His eyes remain closed the whole time, and his face screws up with disgust once he whacks the tiny glass down onto the bar -empty- and throws the dried out lime over his shoulder. “My throat is on fire!” he splutters.
Andrew just laughs harder, playful. “You’re pathetic! You‘d never fit in on Jersey Shore, and you‘re from Jersey!”
“I know, right?” Jesse finally opened his eyes, and he’s laughing too. “Where’s a girly cocktail when you need one?”
“Jesse Eisenberg, why aren’t you dancing?”
The pair of them look up to find Elizabeth staring at Jesse, taller than them both even when they’re sat down on high bar stools. Jesse looks over towards the dance floor at the other end of the room, at the various couples holding one another -spinning in circles to Stevie Wonder‘s Signed, Sealed, Delivered- at Armie bending over to dance with Elizabeth’s tiny four year old niece.
“I don’t dance,” Jesse says soberly, his composure finally regained. Though, his cheeks still have a slight pink tint, brought on from the alcohol. “You know that.”
“Well, it’s my wedding, I’m the bride I should be able to get what I wa- Andrew!” Elizabeth double takes, her stern face splitting into a stunning smile. “Hi! Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here, I didn’t think you’d come because, because, well…” Then her smile fades for a moment, and for Andrew, the embarrassment pours forth.
Elizabeth takes a deep breath, and smiles again, bringing the awkwardness to an end. “Well, it’s great to see you.”
“You too. Congratulations by the way, you look beautiful,” he replies honestly. “Everything was beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she smiles. Then, she leans down to whisper to Andrew. “Listen, I want you to get this one up on the dance floor. That can be your wedding gift to me.”
“I already got you silverware!” Andrew cries, pointing to the table of wedding gifts, on which sits his small, badly wrapped box.
“Well, just do it as a favour to the bride then. Please.” There’s that look again, the one she used back at the bar last year when she tried to convince him to sing on karaoke night. He avoids eye contact, because getting Jesse to dance would mean having to dance with Jesse, and he doesn’t think that they’re quite ready for that type of closeness just yet. Also, it’d probably give Armie’s very conservative grandparents a bit of a scare.
“Right,” Elizabeth says, “I wish I could hang out longer, but I have to circulate, I have a couple more of Armie’s ancient great-aunts to talk to yet. It’s to great to see you both, though.”
“You too,” Andrew and Jesse say in unison. She leans down to give them both a kiss on the cheek before leaving.
“She does look great, doesn’t she?” Jesse says, watching her walk away.
“She really does.”
“Right," Jesse’s tone has perked up all of a sudden, he slaps his hands down on to the bar, “you have to do your shot now.”
“Okay,” Andrew says, sitting up straight as if to prepare. He holds out his hand and nods. “Hit me.”
Jesse seems to take great joy in pouring the salt out, he looks up, smiling harder than he has all night, almost all of his teeth are showing. Andrew could just kiss him. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Okay, one, two, three!”
Andrew fires through the stages, no questions asked, and when he’s done, it doesn’t seem to have affected him one bit, he just smiles in triumph whilst Jesse just stares at him, awestruck.
“Oh shit,” Jesse laughs.
“Hey, could I take a picture of the two of you?”
It’s the photographer, a little brunette girl who appears to be in her early twenties, holding up a camera expectantly. She’s smiling with enthusiasm, staring at the two of them.
“A picture?” Jesse asks stupidly, glancing towards Andrew.
“Yeah,” she replies, still smiling. “The bride requested it specifically.”
“Elizabeth,” Andrew says below breath, mainly to himself. He looks over towards the other side of the room to find her grinning at him as if to say, “I got you!”
“So is that okay?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Jesse says, hopping off of his stool. He gestures for Andrew to follow and the pair of them stand side by side without making any physical contact, just like they have been all night. The only time they’ve touched was during Duck, Duck, Goose when they patted one another on the head, but nothing that meant anything.
The photographer holds the camera up to her face with one hand and gestures from Andrew to Jesse with the other. “Put your arm around him.”
“Sorry?” Andrew says, fighting the urge to gape.
“Don’t be so stiff,” she says playfully.
“Come on, you.” As if it’s the most normal thing in the world, as if something so simple wouldn’t bring back floods of memories, Jesse grabs Andrew’s arm and slings it over his shoulders. Jesse then puts his own arm behind Andrew and around his waist. “Is this better?”
“Perfect! Smile!”
And they do, and Andrew’s pretty sure it’s forced on his part, not because he doesn’t want to be here, not because he doesn’t like having his arm back around Jesse’s shoulders, just like old times, but because despite the fact that they were together for so long, this is going to be their first picture together and they’re not even together. He’d always wanted they’re first picture to have some kind of special story behind it, something they could tell the grandkids one day, but now, it’s just something thrown together by a wedding photographer. The flash goes off.
“Done?” Andrew asks impatiently, pulling his arm away.
“Yep!” She says, bouncing off with her camera. “Thank you!”
“So, um…” Andrew puts his hands into his pockets and looks down at the ground. For some strange reason, he’s unable to think of something to say next, it’s never been like this before, and for the first time in hours, he’s genuinely beginning to remember that they’re not a couple anymore. All night their break up had felt like a bad dream, and that they’ve finally been given another chance, but they haven’t, they’re still exes, and Andrew's beginning to lose faith in that possible second shot.
Jesse swallows, nodding towards the doors. “I need to go to the bathroom, one sec.”
“Okay,” Andrew says, turning on the spot to watch him as he leaves. Once Jesse‘s out of sight, he thinks of Elizabeth and says, “I cannot believe she just made me do that.”
“Shut up, I’m sure you’ll thank her for it one day,” Armie says as he walks past.
***
It’s one in the morning, the party is finally over, and Andrew and Jesse are currently walking up the hall towards their hotel rooms, which just so happen to be right next door to one another, clearly Jesse wasn’t that thorough when he’d booked himself a separate room. The carpet underfoot is red, the wallpaper is red and gold, and the place is uplit by sconces. If this were a movie, they’d probably be headed towards the same hotel room to make love on a bed of rose petals. Though it seems that they’re destined to sleep alone tonight, because life isn’t one big movie.
Jesse looks down, keeping his eyes on his feet as he walks beside Andrew. “So, I’m gonna guess that since we ended up on the same train here this morning, we’ll probably be getting back home on the same one tomorrow.”
“6pm?” Andrew asks.
“Yeah,” Jesse chuckles once. He looks up and points towards the door outside of which he’s just stopped. “This is me.”
Andrew carries on to the next door, “and this is me. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“You will,” Jesse nods a little, voice small.
“Night then,” Andrew replies, taking his key out to open to door.
“Hey, Andrew?” He hears Jesse say.
“Yeah?”
“Um…” he’s biting his lip, he looks adorable. Andrew can feel his eyes soften as he looks at him, all nervous like that, “listen, I’m having a party at mine in a couple of weeks once Armie and Elizabeth get back from their honeymoon, to celebrate.”
“To celebrate what?”
Jesse looks at him as if he‘s stupid “…their marriage?”
“Isn’t that what the reception was for?” Andrew asks, pointing back towards the way they came with a frown on his face. “The one we just attended?”
“I guess so, yeah, but this’ll be a bit smaller, a little more private. So they’ll be coming, obviously, and I’m inviting a couple of my other friends. Would you like to come?” Jesse looks up at him expectantly, eyes all bright and slightly watery, and Andrew’s pretty sure that Jesse is now looking at him in the same way that Andrew has been looking at Jesse all night. Full of hope and wondering of what could have been, as if he misses them too. “You can bring Joe… and Carey, and Emma, and Ryan, and Justin too. They’ve all met Armie and Elizabeth so it should be okay. So yeah, you should come.”
You should come. It’s not a question any more, not an invitation or even a suggestion, it’s almost like a command. It’s imperative. Jesse wants him there.
A smile spreads slowly across Andrew‘s face as he begins to realise that they may get their second chance after all, he hasn‘t lost him for good. “I… don’t think I’ve got anything planned.”
“Awesome,” Jesse smiles like a child, “we’ll talk about it some more tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah, definitely,” Andrew nods enthusiastically.
“Okay. Well… night.” Jesse smiles, gets his door open and speeds into his room as if he’s suffering from severe embarrassment. So Andrew’s just left out in the hall, staring at Jesse's closed door with this stupid, happy look on his face as he says:
“Night.”
(403)
The next evening, they‘re back into their normal, every day clothes. Jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, sneakers. Andrew‘s back in a band shirt -he actually wore a Battles one as a way of causing playful annoyance to Jesse. He follows Jesse through the train as they look for seats, never minding the fact that he’s really tired because he hardly slept a wink last night as a result of all the anticipation and hope circulating about his being.
“Here looks good,” Jesse says, stopping. There are two sets of empty seats, one on the left hand side of the train, on one the right. They store their luggage in the overhead compartments and Jesse slips into the left, and Andrew the right. Jesse looks across the aisle at him, staring. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sitting down?” Andrew replies, looking about himself to check to see if he’s doing something wrong here.
“No, sit with me,” Jesse says exasperatedly, gesturing to the empty seat next to him.
“Okay.”
So Andrew sits with him, mere inches between them, as close as they were last night when they had that picture taken. It’s dark out already, so it’s difficult to see outside. The window beside them acts more as a mirror than an actual window, Andrew can see everyone sat on the other side of the train when he looks at it.
The train starts to move, and there’s a few brief announcements over the PA system. He and Jesse slip into a comfortable silence and Andrew starts to think that they really were meant to be together because you know you’ve found someone special when you don’t feel the need to fill every last second with sound and conversation.
A few minutes into the journey, and Jesse’s head has found it’s way onto Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew smiles gently, looking down at Jesse’s hair and resisting the urge to place a kiss atop of his head. Everything’s slowly falling back into place. This warm, contented feeling is spreading through his body as he thinks: Yeah, this is how it was meant to be.
“You’re looking at me,” Jesse whispers, Andrew can hear the slight smile in his voice.
“How can you tell?”
“I can see you in the window.”
Andrew looks up at their reflection, and sees that Jesse is looking too. Using the window, they look each other right in the eye, and Jesse smiles beautifully from Andrew’s shoulder as he mouths, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Andrew whispers.
They continue to look at one another for a few more moments before Jesse closes his eyes and snuggles further into Andrew’s shoulder, right where he’s supposed to be.
“You okay?” Andrew asks quietly.
“Hmm. Just tired.”
“You got up at like eleven today, you told me earlier.”
“I got out of bed at eleven, but I didn’t sleep very well last night, I never sleep that well unless I’m in my own bed.”
“You always slept fine at my place,” Andrew says, thinking back to times when they’d be watching TV in his room, and he’d feel Jesse slowly drift off in his arms. He wouldn’t wake for at least twelve hours, he was out like a light whenever he wasn’t talking in his sleep.
“Yeah, I did,” Jesse says, sounding as though he’s only just remembered. Then, he adds something that makes Andrew’s heart beat so hard that he can actually feel it in his chest. “…I miss it.”
“Yeah,” Andrew swallows, staring into the back of the seat in front of him, “me too.”
He feels it before he sees it, Jesse’s hand reaching out to take his. Jesse doesn’t lace their fingers, he just holds it there, in the innocent way that small children hold hands to cross the street, to keep one another safe. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah.” And, using that special nickname for him for the first time in months, Andrew whispers, “go to sleep, Jess.”
~
Part Six
Part: Five
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jewnicorn/(500) Days Of Summer crossover. Loosely based on the plot of the film.
Disclaimer: Never happened, all a figment of my imagination. I am not affiliated with anyone mentioned in this work of fiction. (500) Days Of Summer is property of Fox Searchlight Pictures.
A/N: Remember to pay close attention to the numbers before each section, they denote the number of days that Andrew and Jesse have known one another at each point -same as the film, of course- it'll help you in keeping track of where they are on their 500 day timeline :)
Previous: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
~
(191)
Andrew’s theatre group don’t have a proper theatre to perform in, with a proper stage to perform on, with red velvet curtains and all the rest. Instead, they set up a hall in downtown Queens so that the play takes place in a large space in the middle, whilst the audience surrounds them, sat in a large square so that the action can be seen from all angles, no one ever gets a bad view.
It’s opening night, and they’ve reached the final scene, in which Rodolpho’s brother, Marco -played by Andrew’s friend, Josh- stabs the lead character, Eddie, with his own knife. It’s emotional and tensions run high and the audience gasp as it happens. Then Andrew, as Rodopho, grips his hair in terror and freezes, along with the other actors as the lights above them go down, a spot light illuminates his friend Andy -who's been cast as Alfieri, the lawyer- on the corner of the performance space as he gives the final speech of the play. The spotlight goes down for the final time, and the audience burst into applause and cheers.
After a few minutes, the lights have come on throughout the hall, and all of the actors, even the ones that weren’t in the last scene, have come out to take their bows and such. John, the director, comes out, gives a speech, and credits the actors one by one, each of them earning their own set of personal applause.
“Your boyfriend’s out there isn’t he?” Josh says from Andrew’s side, he’s as tall as Jesse’s friend, Armie, so he has to lean down quite a bit.
“Yeah, and a few others, I think,” Andrew replies, smiling and still slightly out of breath from the performance. He scans the rows of people around him, looking for everyone.
By ‘a few others’, Andrew really means ‘all of my friends including some of Jesse’s’. Waiting patiently in the theatre for the play to begin are: Jesse himself, Emma (with boyfriend, Ryan), Joe (with Carey, the receptionist at his veterinary practice, this is supposed to be a date, apparently), Justin, Armie and Elizabeth. Aziz was invited, but he, of course, had to work.
“Josh Pence as Marco!” John cries. Josh takes a few steps forward, bows, and repeats the process three more times, turning to face each side of the room. North, East, South, West. The audience applaud him.
Josh returns to his full height and leans over to speak to Andrew.
“Where is he? Your boyfriend?”
“Right…” Andrew squints to see into the darkness covering the audience, then he spots him, pointing excitedly “…there!”
“Andrew Garfield as Rodolpho!”
Andrew does the same as Josh, and all the while he can hear the guys cheering his name, especially Armie, with his booming voice. “Go Andrew!”
John gets through all of the other actors, thanks everyone who worked behind the scenes, and the audience for coming, then everyone is allowed to leave or mingle.
Jesse comes speeding almost out of no where, throws himself into Andrew’s arms without a care in the world and kisses him full on the lips in front of everyone, which results in more cheers and more clapping.
“What was that for?” Andrew asks breathlessly as Jesse pulls away, his arms around Andrew’s neck.
“You were amazing! You did so well!” Jesse cries, smiling so hard his face may split in two, he’s looking up at Andrew as if he’s the best, most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and shakes his head fondly. “I love you so much.”
Andrew smiles and kisses him on the forehead, holding him close. “I love you too.”
(328)
“…Andrew Garfield as Tybalt!”
He takes his bows.
It all runs like clockwork now, he’s practically a robot.
It’ll be weeks and weeks of this same shit over and over again, night after night. In the dressing room waiting for his cue, a brief pep talk from Josh who managed to get the part of Romeo -lucky bastard- then the actual play, then the bows, the forced smile, the feigned enthusiasm.
On the opening night of A View From The Bridge, he’d had to squint to find Jesse in the front row, but now, even with the bright stage lights blinding him, Andrew knows that Jesse won’t be there, and never will be.
(299)
“Andrew, not to offend you, but we just don’t think that you’re…” John seems to have trouble phrasing what he wants to say, he squints as if it causes him actual pain to say “… we just don’t think you’re right for the part.”
Andrew closes the script and looks up, hurt. “What do you mean?”
“The character of Romeo is meant to be head over heels in love, but when you read the lines just then, it sounded as though you just liked Juliet at best.”
Andrew slumps, he can’t even look at them, at John the director and his pair of producers, Hannah and Paul, sat behind the table before him, judging him. Of all the parts in all the plays in all the world, he’d always figured that Romeo would be the one that he’d always be right for, he knew the lines by heart, he knew exactly how to play it. Jesse loved it. Except, Jesse’s not around any more.
“What happened?” Hannah asks, voice soft as if she’s afraid she could anger him somehow.
Andrew looks up, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“You were amazing as Rodolpho, but you seem to be… missing something now,“ she replies, face arranged into a look of great sympathy. “What’s happened to you?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, face blank. A complete lie.
“You sure?” She doesn’t sound as if she believes him.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he nods, closing his eyes.
“Okay… well, um, we do think you’d be great as Tybalt, what do you think?”
“Tybalt?” Andrew asks with mild disgust.
“Yeah?”
“That’s… fine. Yeah,“ He figures he might as well accept it, anything to get out of here sooner. He thanks them for their time, and leaves, knowing that they’re all watching him, foreheads wrinkled with worry.
(331)
Everyone at the table is experiencing a mild case of déjà vu. Yep, every single one of them has been in a similar situation before, a situation that occurred only months ago. In fact, they were sat at this very same table last time. Emma places three cups of coffee down in front of Justin, Joe, and Andrew. Justin gets foam in his facial hair, Joe adds at least five sachets of Sweet‘n Low to his drink, and Andrew sits there staring out of window, eyes glazed over, thoughts buzzing around his head at a millions miles per hour.
Then, he takes a deep breath in through his nose and turns to the others.
“I hate Jesse.”
Emma almost drops her tray, Joe splutters, getting coffee all down himself.
“What?”
“I do,” Andrew nods firmly, gritting his teeth. “I really hate him.”
Justin turns to Joe, and gulps visibly as Andrew continues on without really looking at any of them, voice full of malice.
“I hate how his stupid hair used get all in my face when we hugged. I hate the noises he makes when he eats, like this weird sloppy, slapping sound. Disgusting. I hate his awful, nasal laugh. I hate how he always talked in his sleep and kept me up all night. I hate his pretentious, “I’m better than everyone else because I don’t watch TV” attitude. I hate him for ruining Green Day for me. I can’t listen to them any more.” Andrew looks at the others with wide eyes, waiting for them to agree about that last part being the worst part. He gets nothing but incredulous stares in return, so he shrugs and carries on regardless. “I hate him for making me feel this way.”
After a moment or two of silence, in which the tension in tangible, Emma huffs in defeat and sits down next to Andrew.
“Andrew,“ she says. He doesn’t look at her, so she grabs his face and forces him to turn her way. Her green eyes are fierce, staring straight into his. “Listen. I know you, and I know for a fact that you don’t mean any of that.”
Wrenching his chin out of her grasp, he says, “I mean it.”
Andrew’s a liar.
(402)
Andrew had received his invitation to the wedding months ago, he and Jesse were still together and they’d come up with all these plans. The gift they were going to buy (silverware, such a cliché), how they were going to make their way up to the hotel in which it’s being held, the outfits they were going to wear. They’d even made sure that they coordinated without making it look as though that was what they were trying to do. They’d both bought suits and train tickets down to Suffolk County in Long Island, where Armie and Elizabeth’s wedding is to take place.
They’d mapped out the entire thing, but they’d failed to plan what they would do if they were to split, which was something neither of them had been anticipating.
Andrew sticks the invitation back into its envelope and stuffs it into his back pocket as he leaves his apartment, an over-night bag slung over one shoulder and his outfit in a suit bag over the other. He’d been thinking this over for weeks, whether or not he was still going to this thing. For the first week or so it seemed to be a no-brainer, no way in hell was he going. He’d see Jesse there and it’d be awkward and painful, but then he started to think about how he’d spent so much money on the suit, and the shoes to go with it, the train ticket, and the hotel room. He doesn’t want to put that to waste.
(He’d actually called the hotel a couple of days ago to see if maybe they could change his and Jesse’s shared room reservation to a reservation of two separate rooms. Turns out that Jesse had beaten him to it, and had already arranged for them to stay apart.)
Also, Andrew had promised Elizabeth that he’d come the day he’d gotten the invite, the day that she called just to make sure he’d received it. Andrew’s not one to break promises, and if he sees Jesse there? Well, then he’ll just have to deal with it (or quite possibly run away and cry) because he’s got to get over him some time.
***
He’s here. He’s on the same fucking train. He’s here.
Andrew only boarded around thirty seconds ago, and he’s already seen him. Well, not him so much as the top of his ridiculously curly head. Andrew hasn’t even seen his face yet, but he just knows that the guy sat in the aisle seat about ten feet ahead of him is Jesse. It’s got to be. If it is just some other curly-haired guy boarding a train from Queens to Suffolk County on the exact same day, at the exact same time as Andrew, well the fine, Andrew will just have to change his whole belief system, accept that fate is non-existent and that coincidences really do happen.
Except this isn’t just some coincidence, this is definitely Jesse. Andrew knows that head too well.
“Shit,” he says to himself below breath.
What is going to do now? He turns around to check the carriage behind him. It appears to be full and there aren’t any other carriages behind that one. This means only one thing, he’s going to have to go onwards and walk straight past Jesse.
I did not sign on for this, he thinks. He imagines that this entire train ride is going to be filled with John Dorian-esque internal voice-overs. After taking only a few small steps, Jesse turns to look out of the window on the other side of the train, perhaps to check the time on the giant clock on the platform, and gives Andrew a perfect profile shot.
Andrew halts, like a deer in headlights, completely frozen, afraid to move on.
God, he’d forgotten how gorgeous Jesse is.
Look the other way, look the other way, look the other way. Don’t look at me!
Eventually, after what seems like forever, Jesse casually turns to face forward. Andrew begins to walk again, on tiptoes, like something out of a stupid cartoon. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. He lifts his suit bag up to hide the right side of his face as he passes his ex.
He feels ridiculous, admittedly. Only this morning had he psyched himself up for what was going to happen today. He knew that he’d be seeing Jesse at the wedding, but at least then he could try to avoid him. It‘s going to be a big thing, lots of guests to get lost in, an opportunity to leave altogether if need be. But he hadn’t planned on running into him on the train ride up. A train, pretty much inescapable whilst in motion, and quite small. He could go sit right in the first carriage, but Jesse could still walk up and find him there.
He can’t escape.
About nine rows ahead of Jesse, he finds two empty seats on the left side of the train, and slings himself into them, breathing heavily once he lands, chest heaving.
Please don’t say he’s seen me, please don’t say he’s seen me.
Apparently, he hasn’t. Well, Andrew doesn’t know that for sure, but he figures that if Jesse had’ve spotted him, then he would have come over by now. Then, Andrew thinks that what if Jesse has seen him, and is just reacting to it in the same way as Andrew, i.e. by freaking out and refusing to move? Andrew’s this close to hyperventilating, and since that could possibly cause a scene if he were to continue and eventually pass out, he gets his iPod out of his bag and sticks his headphones on. Hopefully some music will serve as a decent distraction.
It doesn’t.
Three and half songs into his supposed ‘Feel Good’ playlist, and all Andrew has managed to think about is Jesse, damn you Beyoncé! He’s meant to be over him, he’s meant to hate him for crying out loud. He just… really wants to look at him again, just for a second.
It’s a terrible analogy, but this situation is similar to when he said he was going to start eating healthily last year, but then Emma brought cupcakes over. He’d said he’d just have one. What’s the harm, right? Before he knew it, he’d downed seven in rapid succession. The same sort of thing could happen now. Sure, he could steal a quick glance at Jesse, but that could lead to a slightly longer glance, which in turn could lead to full blown staring, and, before he‘s even realised what‘s happened, he’ll have fallen in love with him all over again.
Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t you dare look a-
Too late. Andrew’s already turned around, peeking one eye around the edge of his seat like a creepy stalker man. Jesse’s in a faded red t-shirt and jeans. Since it’s early Spring he isn’t wearing a jacket, his arms look all toned and delicious. The sun shines in through the window and illuminates his calm, expressionless face like he’s some sort of angel, the light reflecting off of his eyes, making them appear bluer. Andrew notices his hands tapping out a rhythm on his knees, and he soon realises that Jesse’s got his iPod in too, probably listening to Green Day.
Andrew’s stomach clenches and he quickly turns back to face front, he’s noticed way too many details which probably means that he’d been looking at him for way too long. Though, before he knows it, his resolve is broken and he’s back to boring holes in Jesse’s chest with his eyes. He’s onto that seventh cupcake.
Jesse looks up, they make eye contact.
FUCK!
He feels his eyes widen almost instantly and spins back around in his seat. That’s it, he’s done for, he’s had his seven cupcakes and now it’s time to down an entire birthday cake because from the look he’d just seen on Jesse’s face -brief surprise and a quick ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ head tilt- Andrew just knows that he’s coming over, he’s going to be here any second. He looks down at his thighs. If I can’t see him, he can’t see me.
Wrong.
He can see Jesse’s legs, he’s stood up right in front of Andrew. Then, he hears some muffled speech, and realises that he’s still got his headphones on, Beyoncé‘s still singing about halo‘s. He pulls them off, and looks up.
“Hey,” Jesse smiles.
‘Hey?’ ‘Hey?’ Are you fucking kidding me? You break my heart, forget to contact me for months, leave me in a pit of unbroken despair, and all you have to say to me is ‘Hey’? Andrew now has the potential to explode from anger, but it doesn’t show on his face, and clearly not in his voice either because when he opens his mouth to speak, all that comes out is…
“Hey.”
It’s best to play it nonchalant, right? Act as though Jesse hasn’t had any effect on Andrew’s life at all, that should make him feel bad… right?
“You’re still going, then?” Jesse says, eyeing Andrew’s suit, folded up in a bag next to him. “To the wedding?”
“Well yeah… I promised Elizabeth, didn’t I?” Then, as a sly little dig -he can‘t help it- he says, “I don’t let people down.”
“Yeah.” Finally, Jesse looks away, focussing his attention on some unseen thing a couple of feet above Andrew‘s head. He grips at the headrest of the seat he‘s leaning against with a little too much force. “Um… so how’s work, the acting and stuff?”
“Still working at the bar. As far as the acting goes, we‘re doing Romeo and Juliet now, “ Andrew laughs without any real humour, “can you believe it?“
“Really?“ Jesse smiles, “that’s perfect, I wish I had time to see it.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m gonna assume that you’re Romeo, right?“
“No, Tybalt,” Andrew admits, to which Jesse reacts with visible shock. “I auditioned for Romeo, but they said that I wasn’t convincing enough.“
“Convincing at what?“ Jesse asks, voice high-pitched with disbelief.
Andrew shrugs, looking at Jesse‘s chest rather than his eyes. “Being in love? I don’t know.”
“But you were so good as Rodolpho,” Jesse says, using the encouraging tone that a mother would use to comfort an upset child.
“I know, but things change…” Andrew turns, looks out of the window beside him.
Wow, this is awkward. Less so than Andrew had expected, but that doesn‘t make this situation any less uncomfortable. A few months ago they were having shower sex and professing their love for one another. Now, it‘s just painful.
Part of him wants to ignore Jesse, tell him to go away, make him feel bad. But, a second part of Andrew is just dying to have a conversation with him again because -and this current conversation doesn‘t really attest to this fact -Jesse is the most interesting person Andrew‘s ever met. (There‘s also the fact that he doesn’t really hate him and secretly -or not so secretly- still has feelings for him). This second part of him is the same part of him that forced him to stare longingly at Jesse a few minutes ago, so guess who wins this internal battle.
“What about you, though? Barnes and Noble, your plays?” He asks, still not quite meeting Jesse’s eye. Truth be told, Andrew’s stomach is kind of in the middle of trying to turn itself inside out, or so he assumes from the weird nauseous feeling he’s experiencing.
Jesse nods. “Still there. The play writing’s going great, though. I finished one a couple of weeks back, so I’ve sent it around a few places, seeing if anyone will produce it. It‘s called Asuncion.”
Damn, not exactly what Andrew was hoping to hear, he was hoping that Jesse too had been feeling all apathetic and melancholy over these last few months, totally incapable of doing anything creative.
Jesse shrugs. “It’s unlikely though, I doubt anyone but my mother will think it’s any good.”
Andrew smiles, and the words pour out before he‘s even realised what he‘s saying. “I’d wager that it’s better than you think.”
“You’re such an optimist, Andrew.” Jesse smiles, looking down at his feet now. His voice is soft and quiet, which reminds Andrew of a few of their more private moments. “I always liked that about you.”
Andrew’s not quite sure what to say to that, so he just sits back in his seat -he’s only just noticed that he’d been eagerly leaning forward- and waits, leaving Jesse’s last statement hanging awkwardly in the air.
“Hey,” Jesse says again. “Do you, do you want to grab some coffee or -well, I’m getting tea- but you could… get some coffee, with me. So yeah, would you… like to?”
“I guess so, yeah,” Andrew replies, getting up a little too quickly. What‘s the worst that could happen, right? He smiles. “Yeah, okay.”
“Awesome! I’m so glad we can do this now.”
We could’ve been doing this for months if you hadn’t have broken up with me, Andrew thinks, following Jesse down the aisle like a little lost puppy. He’s not really sure about how he’s supposed to feel right now. He’s angry about having his heart broken, though at the same time he’s just happy to be in Jesse’s company again. The happiness is slowly blocking out the anger, erasing it altogether.
Andrew can’t even count the amount of times he’s watched ridiculous soap operas and wondered why in the hell the silly girls would want to get back together with the guys who rip out their hearts and smush them into the ground.
Now though, Andrew’s beginning to understand how they feel. Once you really fall in love with someone, they just take you over.
***
No word of a lie, Andrew cried during the ceremony. He cried when Elizabeth came down the aisle, he cried at the way Armie looked at her -as if someone had plucked an angel from the heavens and presented her to him- he cried during the vows, he cried when they kissed. Basically, it was a non-stop tear fest, but he had a smile on his face the whole time despite the fact that he was vaguely jealous and had Jesse sat right next to him. He wasn’t embarrassed about crying in front of him.
It didn’t feel wrong having Jesse there, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt right. Back on the train, after the uncomfortable initial encounter, everything only got better. They got coffee and tea, Jesse moved from his seat to sit with Andrew, and they just talked. Sure, there was no mention of the fact that they used to date, they just spoke about work, friends, music, Jesse's play, all of the new records Andrew has procured for his vinyl player. For the first time in a long time things started to feel normal, or as close to normal as they could possibly get.
The wedding had taken place outside of the hotel at dusk, on the grass between two oak trees. White, spindly chairs were set up for the guests, strings of fairy lights hung over head, strung between the branches, white roses, ribbons, streamers everywhere. It was perfect, it wasn’t even Andrew’s wedding, but even so, he felt elated to know that he’d be sharing such a beautiful night with Jesse.
Now, they’re sat in one of the larger function rooms for the reception. Speeches, buffet food, Armie and Elizabeth circulating, kids running around, dancing. Andrew and Jesse however, accepted glasses of champagne from a nearby waiter and sat down to catch up some more.
“Come on then, bring it on. Do your worst,” Andrew leans back in his chair and takes a deep drink of his champagne, almost emptying the glass as he does it, never taking his eyes off of Jesse.
He looks positively delicious tonight, dressed up in a dark, well-cut suit, no tie, checked shirt unbuttoned just enough to give Andrew a halfway decent view of his collarbones. Andrew is dressed similarly, except his shirt plain white and he’s wearing a tie. Basically, he just wants to grab Jesse, throw him onto this table and tear him out of clothes. Sure, they’re surrounded by children aged no more than nine years, and doing that would probably mess them up for a lifetime, but it’d probably be worth it.
Jesse smirks, looking away as he says, “your hair looks ridiculous in the morning.”
“It really isn’t that bad!” Andrew cries, sitting forward.
“Yes it is,“ Jesse replies, eyes following eight year old Jamie as he walks around their table in a little tux. “It doesn’t even look like accidental bedhead, it’s as if someone has actually gone out of their way to shove their hands into your hair and mess it up.” Jesse turns to Andrew once more. “It’s so ridiculous that it almost crosses the line back to cute, but it doesn’t. It’s literally a mess.”
“Yeah, well…” Andrew’s eyes roam over Jesse’s body, trying to think of a good comeback. “You need to get new underwear.”
“What!?” Jesse gets a tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows as he frowns, Andrew adores it. “Why?”
“They’re way too small for you. Like, Jesse, men’s small is okay, but children’s large really isn’t. When you take them off you have these little red ridges in your skin from the waistband.”
“I do not buy children’s large.”
“You so do,” Andrew chuckles.
“You never complained about them before.”
“That’s because I knew that whenever I saw them I knew that I could probably get you out of them. Now, I can’t do that anymore. So yeah,” Andrew leans right into Jesse’s face, invading his personal space, eyes wide, “I’ve got a problem with them.”
Jamie walks behind them, patting both Andrew and Jesse on the head as he says, “Duck… duck…”
It had been Jesse’s idea to sit at the kids table. During the actual meal, everyone had set places, but once the reception finally got underway, the guests were free to roam around as they pleased. Jesse had said that he didn’t want to sit around making small talk with Elizabeth’s grandparents, so he suggested that he and Andrew hang out with the kids, since it’d be ‘way more fun’. After some whining from Armie’s little cousin/ring-bearer, Jamie, the pair of them have been coerced into an impromptu game of Duck, Duck, Goose.
“Well, at least I don’t live in band shirts,” Jesse retorts.
“I’m not wearing a band shirt right now,” Andrew says, leaning back and gesturing to his torso to make his point clear.
“Because it’s a wedding. You must wear one at least everyday otherwise. I mean, yeah, you have a few Green Day ones, but mostly you wear shirts that advertise bands that hardly anyone has heard of. You’re such a hipster.” Jesse arranges his face into an expression of haughty derision, and puts on his best British Accent. “Oh, Battles? They’re an avante garde rock band from New York, you’ve probably never heard of them.”
“I sound nothing like that!” Andrew laughs, which makes Jesse laugh, “and you’re totally pretentious too.” He tries his best to do an adequate impression of Jesse. “I don’t watch television, I don’t watch movies unless they’re by Woody Allen, I read obscure books written by Russian dissidents, I write plays.”
“Duck… duck…” Jamie says, passing them once more. It’s clear that the other kids around the table are getting bored, since he’s taking so long to pick out his goose.
“True, I can be a little pretentious,” Jesse concedes, nodding, “but you’re a messy eater! I couldn’t take you anywhere without you spilling something down yourself, and you always, always seemed to choose to wear white on the days we ate spaghetti, it’s almost like you were doing it on purpose.”
Andrew sits back, clearly running out of ideas. “Yeah, well, you….”
“Yeah?” Jesse says playfully, placing both hands onto the white clothed table and leaning forward.
“You…”
“I, what?” Jesse cocks an eyebrow, grinning. “Come on, tell me what you’ve got.”
“Give me a min- Ah!” Andrew points a finger in triumph. “The way you pick all of your food apart is really annoying.”
“Duck… Duck…”
“I don’t do it with everything.”
“Jesse, when you order a cheeseburger from McDonald’s, you take it apart, eat all of the salady stuff first, then the actual burger on its own, then you stick the two halves of your ketchup soaked bun together and eat those.”
“I’ve done it since I was a kid, I do it without even realising, it’s like a weird routine that I have,” Jesse shrugs helplessly.
It goes quiet between them for a moment. Andrew watches Jesse watching Jamie and tries his hardest to come up with as explanation as to why they’re not together any more, why Jesse broke up with him. Andrew knows it wasn’t his fault. Jesse said he was clingy, Jesse said that there was too much pressure, but looking back, he was never that clingy, there wasn’t that much pressure. Sure, there was the conversation about whether or not they were official boyfriends in Jesse’s car that time, but that went fine. Andrew just said that he did those things because he thought that if he took responsibility for Jesse’s imagined problems, then maybe he’d take him back.
It was never Andrew’s fault. Even if he was clingy, he’s sure that Jesse would have loved it, because he can just tell that Jesse has always craved affection, joy, and happiness like nothing else. Why else would he have chosen to sit with a bunch of children? They’re constantly happy, nothing worries them, they trust everyone and they’re so innocent. Every single one of them seems to like Jesse, and he seems to like that they like him. So it couldn’t have been Andrew that he had an issue with, because Andrew loved -no, still loves, he can admit that now- him like no other. It couldn’t have been the relationship either, because whilst they had their occasional fights, they were absolutely perfect together. Jesse was scared off by something a whole lot bigger. Andrew just wants to know what it was.
“Don’t think so hard, I think I can smell your hair a’burnin’.”
Andrew blinks, getting his eyes back into focus as he returns to the present. “I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s from Juno, we watched together at your place, remember? Also, you seemed to be thinking damn hard just then,” Jesse’s looking at him like he’s single most entertaining person in the world.
“I just spaced out,” Andrew replies, taking another sip of his drink.
“Okay…“ Jesse doesn’t seem all that convinced “…well, have you got any more for me?”
“I’m all out,” Andrew shakes his head, smiles. “What about you? Any more for me?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, the hair thing wasn’t annoying, it was just funny. I only ever had an issue with the excessive band shirts and messy eating.” Jesse smiles for the first time without any hint of sarcasm in his face, and nods. “Yeah, that’s it, Andrew. Those are your only flaws.”
Despite the fact that it‘d probably ruin all of this playful banter they‘ve got going on, Andrew opens his mouth to ask the one question that‘s been plaguing him for months. “Then why did you break up with m-”
“Goose!”
Jamie’s chosen Jesse. Before Andrew can so much as finish his sentence, Jesse is out of his seat, chasing the child around the huge twelve-seater table. Even though the opportunity to end all of his confusion had been ruined, Andrew can’t help but smile at Jesse, purposefully going slow so that Jamie can win. The latter plops down in Jesse’s seat, next to Andrew.
“No!” Jesse cries melodramatically, though he‘s still smiling. “You’re too fast!”
Jamie sticks his tongue out. “Jesse is a loser!”
“Whatever, you’re… “ Jesse’s clearly struggling to find an adequate insult. He stares long and hard at the kid “…short.”
“Says you?“ Andrew asks, chuckling.
Now Jesse’s the one sticking his tongue out. Jamie just laughs as Jesse begins his turn with Andrew. “Duck, duck, duck…”
***
Now? They’re at the bar towards the back of the room since it’s eleven thirty and Jamie and the other kids were carted off by their parents for bed. Lined up in front of them is a row of about a dozen tequila shots, accompanied by a salt shaker and a plate of cut up limes.
Jesse eyes everything wearily. After a few glasses of champagne, they’re a little tipsy but no where near drunk… yet. “You’ll have to explain this to me because I’ve never done one of these before, you‘re the expert.”
“It’s simple,” Andrew says, pouring a small pile of salt onto the back of Jesse‘s hand. He’s giggling for no apparent reason. “Salt, shot, lime. Go!”
Jesse does as he says, licking the salt of his hand, downing the shot, and sucking the juice out of a lime slice in rapid succession. His eyes remain closed the whole time, and his face screws up with disgust once he whacks the tiny glass down onto the bar -empty- and throws the dried out lime over his shoulder. “My throat is on fire!” he splutters.
Andrew just laughs harder, playful. “You’re pathetic! You‘d never fit in on Jersey Shore, and you‘re from Jersey!”
“I know, right?” Jesse finally opened his eyes, and he’s laughing too. “Where’s a girly cocktail when you need one?”
“Jesse Eisenberg, why aren’t you dancing?”
The pair of them look up to find Elizabeth staring at Jesse, taller than them both even when they’re sat down on high bar stools. Jesse looks over towards the dance floor at the other end of the room, at the various couples holding one another -spinning in circles to Stevie Wonder‘s Signed, Sealed, Delivered- at Armie bending over to dance with Elizabeth’s tiny four year old niece.
“I don’t dance,” Jesse says soberly, his composure finally regained. Though, his cheeks still have a slight pink tint, brought on from the alcohol. “You know that.”
“Well, it’s my wedding, I’m the bride I should be able to get what I wa- Andrew!” Elizabeth double takes, her stern face splitting into a stunning smile. “Hi! Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here, I didn’t think you’d come because, because, well…” Then her smile fades for a moment, and for Andrew, the embarrassment pours forth.
Elizabeth takes a deep breath, and smiles again, bringing the awkwardness to an end. “Well, it’s great to see you.”
“You too. Congratulations by the way, you look beautiful,” he replies honestly. “Everything was beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she smiles. Then, she leans down to whisper to Andrew. “Listen, I want you to get this one up on the dance floor. That can be your wedding gift to me.”
“I already got you silverware!” Andrew cries, pointing to the table of wedding gifts, on which sits his small, badly wrapped box.
“Well, just do it as a favour to the bride then. Please.” There’s that look again, the one she used back at the bar last year when she tried to convince him to sing on karaoke night. He avoids eye contact, because getting Jesse to dance would mean having to dance with Jesse, and he doesn’t think that they’re quite ready for that type of closeness just yet. Also, it’d probably give Armie’s very conservative grandparents a bit of a scare.
“Right,” Elizabeth says, “I wish I could hang out longer, but I have to circulate, I have a couple more of Armie’s ancient great-aunts to talk to yet. It’s to great to see you both, though.”
“You too,” Andrew and Jesse say in unison. She leans down to give them both a kiss on the cheek before leaving.
“She does look great, doesn’t she?” Jesse says, watching her walk away.
“She really does.”
“Right," Jesse’s tone has perked up all of a sudden, he slaps his hands down on to the bar, “you have to do your shot now.”
“Okay,” Andrew says, sitting up straight as if to prepare. He holds out his hand and nods. “Hit me.”
Jesse seems to take great joy in pouring the salt out, he looks up, smiling harder than he has all night, almost all of his teeth are showing. Andrew could just kiss him. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Okay, one, two, three!”
Andrew fires through the stages, no questions asked, and when he’s done, it doesn’t seem to have affected him one bit, he just smiles in triumph whilst Jesse just stares at him, awestruck.
“Oh shit,” Jesse laughs.
“Hey, could I take a picture of the two of you?”
It’s the photographer, a little brunette girl who appears to be in her early twenties, holding up a camera expectantly. She’s smiling with enthusiasm, staring at the two of them.
“A picture?” Jesse asks stupidly, glancing towards Andrew.
“Yeah,” she replies, still smiling. “The bride requested it specifically.”
“Elizabeth,” Andrew says below breath, mainly to himself. He looks over towards the other side of the room to find her grinning at him as if to say, “I got you!”
“So is that okay?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Jesse says, hopping off of his stool. He gestures for Andrew to follow and the pair of them stand side by side without making any physical contact, just like they have been all night. The only time they’ve touched was during Duck, Duck, Goose when they patted one another on the head, but nothing that meant anything.
The photographer holds the camera up to her face with one hand and gestures from Andrew to Jesse with the other. “Put your arm around him.”
“Sorry?” Andrew says, fighting the urge to gape.
“Don’t be so stiff,” she says playfully.
“Come on, you.” As if it’s the most normal thing in the world, as if something so simple wouldn’t bring back floods of memories, Jesse grabs Andrew’s arm and slings it over his shoulders. Jesse then puts his own arm behind Andrew and around his waist. “Is this better?”
“Perfect! Smile!”
And they do, and Andrew’s pretty sure it’s forced on his part, not because he doesn’t want to be here, not because he doesn’t like having his arm back around Jesse’s shoulders, just like old times, but because despite the fact that they were together for so long, this is going to be their first picture together and they’re not even together. He’d always wanted they’re first picture to have some kind of special story behind it, something they could tell the grandkids one day, but now, it’s just something thrown together by a wedding photographer. The flash goes off.
“Done?” Andrew asks impatiently, pulling his arm away.
“Yep!” She says, bouncing off with her camera. “Thank you!”
“So, um…” Andrew puts his hands into his pockets and looks down at the ground. For some strange reason, he’s unable to think of something to say next, it’s never been like this before, and for the first time in hours, he’s genuinely beginning to remember that they’re not a couple anymore. All night their break up had felt like a bad dream, and that they’ve finally been given another chance, but they haven’t, they’re still exes, and Andrew's beginning to lose faith in that possible second shot.
Jesse swallows, nodding towards the doors. “I need to go to the bathroom, one sec.”
“Okay,” Andrew says, turning on the spot to watch him as he leaves. Once Jesse‘s out of sight, he thinks of Elizabeth and says, “I cannot believe she just made me do that.”
“Shut up, I’m sure you’ll thank her for it one day,” Armie says as he walks past.
***
It’s one in the morning, the party is finally over, and Andrew and Jesse are currently walking up the hall towards their hotel rooms, which just so happen to be right next door to one another, clearly Jesse wasn’t that thorough when he’d booked himself a separate room. The carpet underfoot is red, the wallpaper is red and gold, and the place is uplit by sconces. If this were a movie, they’d probably be headed towards the same hotel room to make love on a bed of rose petals. Though it seems that they’re destined to sleep alone tonight, because life isn’t one big movie.
Jesse looks down, keeping his eyes on his feet as he walks beside Andrew. “So, I’m gonna guess that since we ended up on the same train here this morning, we’ll probably be getting back home on the same one tomorrow.”
“6pm?” Andrew asks.
“Yeah,” Jesse chuckles once. He looks up and points towards the door outside of which he’s just stopped. “This is me.”
Andrew carries on to the next door, “and this is me. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“You will,” Jesse nods a little, voice small.
“Night then,” Andrew replies, taking his key out to open to door.
“Hey, Andrew?” He hears Jesse say.
“Yeah?”
“Um…” he’s biting his lip, he looks adorable. Andrew can feel his eyes soften as he looks at him, all nervous like that, “listen, I’m having a party at mine in a couple of weeks once Armie and Elizabeth get back from their honeymoon, to celebrate.”
“To celebrate what?”
Jesse looks at him as if he‘s stupid “…their marriage?”
“Isn’t that what the reception was for?” Andrew asks, pointing back towards the way they came with a frown on his face. “The one we just attended?”
“I guess so, yeah, but this’ll be a bit smaller, a little more private. So they’ll be coming, obviously, and I’m inviting a couple of my other friends. Would you like to come?” Jesse looks up at him expectantly, eyes all bright and slightly watery, and Andrew’s pretty sure that Jesse is now looking at him in the same way that Andrew has been looking at Jesse all night. Full of hope and wondering of what could have been, as if he misses them too. “You can bring Joe… and Carey, and Emma, and Ryan, and Justin too. They’ve all met Armie and Elizabeth so it should be okay. So yeah, you should come.”
You should come. It’s not a question any more, not an invitation or even a suggestion, it’s almost like a command. It’s imperative. Jesse wants him there.
A smile spreads slowly across Andrew‘s face as he begins to realise that they may get their second chance after all, he hasn‘t lost him for good. “I… don’t think I’ve got anything planned.”
“Awesome,” Jesse smiles like a child, “we’ll talk about it some more tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah, definitely,” Andrew nods enthusiastically.
“Okay. Well… night.” Jesse smiles, gets his door open and speeds into his room as if he’s suffering from severe embarrassment. So Andrew’s just left out in the hall, staring at Jesse's closed door with this stupid, happy look on his face as he says:
“Night.”
(403)
The next evening, they‘re back into their normal, every day clothes. Jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, sneakers. Andrew‘s back in a band shirt -he actually wore a Battles one as a way of causing playful annoyance to Jesse. He follows Jesse through the train as they look for seats, never minding the fact that he’s really tired because he hardly slept a wink last night as a result of all the anticipation and hope circulating about his being.
“Here looks good,” Jesse says, stopping. There are two sets of empty seats, one on the left hand side of the train, on one the right. They store their luggage in the overhead compartments and Jesse slips into the left, and Andrew the right. Jesse looks across the aisle at him, staring. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sitting down?” Andrew replies, looking about himself to check to see if he’s doing something wrong here.
“No, sit with me,” Jesse says exasperatedly, gesturing to the empty seat next to him.
“Okay.”
So Andrew sits with him, mere inches between them, as close as they were last night when they had that picture taken. It’s dark out already, so it’s difficult to see outside. The window beside them acts more as a mirror than an actual window, Andrew can see everyone sat on the other side of the train when he looks at it.
The train starts to move, and there’s a few brief announcements over the PA system. He and Jesse slip into a comfortable silence and Andrew starts to think that they really were meant to be together because you know you’ve found someone special when you don’t feel the need to fill every last second with sound and conversation.
A few minutes into the journey, and Jesse’s head has found it’s way onto Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew smiles gently, looking down at Jesse’s hair and resisting the urge to place a kiss atop of his head. Everything’s slowly falling back into place. This warm, contented feeling is spreading through his body as he thinks: Yeah, this is how it was meant to be.
“You’re looking at me,” Jesse whispers, Andrew can hear the slight smile in his voice.
“How can you tell?”
“I can see you in the window.”
Andrew looks up at their reflection, and sees that Jesse is looking too. Using the window, they look each other right in the eye, and Jesse smiles beautifully from Andrew’s shoulder as he mouths, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Andrew whispers.
They continue to look at one another for a few more moments before Jesse closes his eyes and snuggles further into Andrew’s shoulder, right where he’s supposed to be.
“You okay?” Andrew asks quietly.
“Hmm. Just tired.”
“You got up at like eleven today, you told me earlier.”
“I got out of bed at eleven, but I didn’t sleep very well last night, I never sleep that well unless I’m in my own bed.”
“You always slept fine at my place,” Andrew says, thinking back to times when they’d be watching TV in his room, and he’d feel Jesse slowly drift off in his arms. He wouldn’t wake for at least twelve hours, he was out like a light whenever he wasn’t talking in his sleep.
“Yeah, I did,” Jesse says, sounding as though he’s only just remembered. Then, he adds something that makes Andrew’s heart beat so hard that he can actually feel it in his chest. “…I miss it.”
“Yeah,” Andrew swallows, staring into the back of the seat in front of him, “me too.”
He feels it before he sees it, Jesse’s hand reaching out to take his. Jesse doesn’t lace their fingers, he just holds it there, in the innocent way that small children hold hands to cross the street, to keep one another safe. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah.” And, using that special nickname for him for the first time in months, Andrew whispers, “go to sleep, Jess.”
~
Part Six