When You're Around

I woke up the next morning or actually technically I woke up in the afternoon since it was thirty minutes past noon. When I slept in for too long my body would react by making my muscles sore which sometimes could be a sign of depression but oh well I didn’t think I was depressed at the moment. Walt was gone already most likely to his classes and I wondered if Belle was home from last night’s escapades.

First I got into the shower and then got dressed. Going out to the front room I saw Rob and Johnny. Johnny immediately shot me a glare as soon as I entered the room. I tilted my head to the side looking at him like a confused puppy because I had no clue what his problem was.

“What’s your problem?” I question giving him a look.
“You let me go home with Free Willy,” Johnny states.
“Free Willy? I think she was more like Moby Dick, so did she attack you like Moby Dick attacked the Pequod? Being that you survived the endeavor I shall call you Ishmael,” I respond immediately remembering how my brother went home with the rather large girl. I was enjoying the chance to use Moby Dick references because these sort of things don’t come by frequently and I was going to take full advantage of the situation.
“What’s with the Moby Dick references Lou?” Belle questions coming into view.
“Johnny harpooned a whale last night,” I state.
“Harpooned a whale- oh my god,” Belle replies breaking out in a fit of laughter and I received a glare from my brother.
“I hate you,” Johnny says giving me a dirty look.
“Ah such kind words dear brother,” I smile condescendingly at him. Belle was in hysterics obviously thinking about Johnny’s little escapade and most likely thinking of a real whale in place of the girl. This caused me to imagine a real whale as well and I started to break out laughing as well.
“We will never let this go,” Belle laughs.

It was around four o’clock when I received a call from Quentin to go to his house to discuss the script and so I could read the bits he had already thought of. Of course I agreed and got dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, a gray fitted v-neck tee shirt and some chocolate brown gladiator platform heels leaving my hair in its wild curly state and bangs in my eyes. My makeup was done in brown shimmers and black bottom eyeliner with mascara as well as some bronzer from my cheek bones. This was actually my typical make up regimen that took me only about five or six minutes to do.

Grabbing my brown bag that matched my high heels I was off to Quentin’s in my mustang wearing aviator sunglasses. I told my brother I’d be back at home later being that I had to do some work. Arriving at Quentin’s place luckily not getting stuck in traffic or lost along the way I began collecting my things from the floor of my car because I had taken a hard turn and my purse emptied its contents onto the passenger side floor. Not paying attention as I opened the door I heard a distinct grunt of pain when my door connected with something or rather someone.
“I’m so sorry, I should have looked before opening my door are you alright?” I say swiftly getting out of my vehicle and put my hand on the shoulder of the person doubled over trying to catch their breath. It was obvious I hit the poor guy where it mattered and I felt like a total asshole. I thought hitting men in the balls was really horrible unless it was absolutely necessary.
“I am fine,” he responds recovering with a strained voice.
“I feel like a complete jerk, are you sure?” I reply feeling terrible at this point. He looked up with a reassuring smile that made my heart skip a beat, he was ridiculously handsome. Hot damn he was Hugo Stiglitz, I mean Til Schweiger. Oh man this man was even hotter in person.

“It’s okay you didn’t mean to,” he states. In the bright afternoon light his sculpted face was prevalent and eyes were a wonderful shade of blue green.
“I’m Lou Valinski, in case you want someone to sue for the blunt testicular trauma,” I say with a weak smile.
“I’m Til and I won’t sue you, I’m alright,” he says with a charming smile.
“That is good to hear,” I counter with a slight chuckle as I shut my car door and locked it with the key.
“You’re a friend of Quentin’s?” Til inquires.
“No not really I’m a very expensive escort he hired,” I respond jokingly a smile on my face whilst we walked to the front door. I pressed the doorbell and we stood waiting for someone to answer. In no time Quentin answered with a giant smile on his face.

“Til, Lou, so glad you could make it,” he says enthusiastically as he gave Til a hug then moved on to me.
“Good to see you too Quentin,” I respond with a smile.
“Come on in,” Quentin replies waving us into his home. This was the first time in his house and well he did not disappoint with the many old movie posters on the walls or memorabilia and exotic weapons. His house was as I like to say ‘bitchin’ in the sense it was awesome.
“Quentin your place is amazing,” I comment trying to take it all in.
“Thanks, have a seat, the script is on the table for you to read over, be sure to mark anything you want changed, I’ll get us some drinks,” Quentin says walking off.
“Are you an actress?” Til inquires as I took a seat on the couch and grabbed the script from the coffee table.
“I only have the basic acting abilities that I use in order to get me through normal life, I’d rather stay out of the limelight, I’m a writer,” I answer with a smile.
“For movies?” he counters a bit curious.
“Not really,” I reply honestly.
“Lou here writes novellas, she’s a fantastic writer, comes up with things no one would ever think of,” Quentin states robustly coming back into the room with an assortment of drinks. I felt a smile creep onto my face.
“What do you write about?” Til asks me genuinely interested and looked at me.
“I guess thriller, horror, science fiction, action, adventure with a touch of fuck it all,” I respond all too quickly.
“A touch of fuck it all, I like that, its good,” Quentin chuckles.
“That’s a large range of genres,” Til states with a smile.
“I like a good mix of things, I am trying to write a couple nonfiction stories but that’s not going so well,” I admit.
“You are?” Quentin asks looking at me with a bright smile.
“Yeah writing about my life is so much harder than just bullshitting with gunslingers and mad scientists,” I say with a shrug.
“What’s your story?” Til asks.
“One will be chronicling me and my good friend’s cross country touring, it’s the more humorous of the two stories, then the other my grandfather’s story as a child in world war two, being taken from his home in Poland by the Russians then to a concentration camp,” I reply.
“Oh wow that story sounds worthy to be told,” Quentin states.
“Yeah it’s been a long process, I can’t believe you have so much written already,” I counter gesturing to the twenty pages of script that was typed up.
“Hopefully I am doing it justice,” he comments.
“I don’t doubt you have,” I smile opening the first page. I began reading the script; immersing myself into the story to be honest I loved the way Quentin wrote his scripts, he liked description just as much as I had. As I read Quentin and Til when in the other room to discuss something about the movie Quentin was going to start shooting in the next two weeks. After about an hour and a half of reading and marking suggestions as well as adding stuff I was done. I got up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen where Quentin and Til were talking.

“Like it?” Quentin inquires looking up at me with a hopeful smile.
“So very,” I smile back.
“Great! Hey do you mind reading some lines with Til for my movie,” he replies.
“Uh sure I don’t mind,” I respond setting the script on the table to be handed a thicker one by Quentin that was already opened to the proper page.
“Read and act out the lines for Gray Adams, Til you start with your lines,” Quentin instructs. I began looking at the lines that were highlighted already for me and grew a little anxious.
“Who are you?” Til demands stepping closer to me staring down with his eyes fixated on mine. I was thrown off a little but I stared back doing as the script had told me.
“It doesn’t matter, you have to go now before they notice you are gone,” I reply strongly as I turned to leave like the script instructed. Then Til grabbed me by the wrist and spun me around quickly bringing me closer to his body then stared down at me.
“Why are you helping me,” he questions forcefully.
“If you don’t leave right now we are both dead, now hurry go before they come in here,” I respond seriously as I looked deep into his blue green eyes. Til stared back at me for a while then let my wrist go.
“That was great!” Quentin says like an excited little kid at Christmas morning.
“Yeah Til you’re pretty convincing,” I compliment Til with a smile.
“You weren’t half bad yourself Lou,” Til counters.
“So I can count on you playing Gray right?” Quentin adds looking at me with bright eyes.
“Huh?” I retort completely thrown off guard.
“I can’t imagine anyone else playing her,” he replies.
“I mean this in the nicest way possible but are you out of your fucking mind? I’m not an actress,” I say looking at him wide eyed.
“Come on it’ll be fun and there aren’t a lot of lines, haven’t you at least faked an orgasm?” Quentin asks.
“No, that wouldn’t benefit either party at all in the long run but I digress I don’t want to be the asshole that fucks up your movie with my bad acting,” I reply honestly.
“That would be true if you were a bad actress, your character gets to kick ass and shoot up everyone,” he adds.
“Really?” I ask.
“Mhmm, she’s a real tough bitch,” Quentin says with a smile.
“I’m not really sure I can do that why do you even want me to play her?” I say rubbing the back of my neck.
“Well that day at your place when you beat the hell out of your brother’s friend showed me that you can kick some ass,” he comments.
“This is a lot to process not even a year ago would I have thought I’d be here talking to you let alone having you offer me a movie role, so damn bizarre,” I ramble more to myself than anyone else.
“Just do it,” Quentin states.
“What is this, an advertisement for Nike?” I counter.
“You know you want to,” he chuckles.
“Ugh you are very diabolical Quentin,” I sigh in defeat.
“Ah that means I win,” Quentin smiles brightly.
“You suck,” I state unable to retain a smile that played on my lips. I was jumping up and down with excitement inwardly, Quentin made some of my favorite movies and now I would be in one of them.
“I already called Martin by the way, to make sure you didn’t have anything going on,” he replies.
“I never have anything going on,” I laugh.
“Yeah why is that?” Quentin asks looking at me.
“I don’t know I have a tendency to be a little reclusive and I thought it was sort of fun that no one really knows that I am T.R. I mean I do email interviews and stuff but that’s about it,” I shrug.
“You don’t think its fun anymore?” Til inquires catching the use of past tense in my statement and looked at me intently.
“Sarcasm and jokes are incredibly hard to decipher when you aren’t talking face to face with these interviewers, so I’ve been made out to be a big narcissistic asshole of a man,” I reply with a soft smile.
“Wow,” he responds.
“Don’t get me wrong I am an asshole, but I’d like to think I’m a lovable asshole,” I smile.
“The more you talk the greater you get, I forgot to tell you but I watched and listened to those movies and CDs,” Quentin smiles.
“Oh? How’d you like the Samurai Reincarnation?” I ask.
“I loved it its classic how did you even find a copy of most of these films?” Quentin inquires.
“A few used book stores sell DVDs nowadays that’s where I get my strange collections, like those Mexican horror movies I lent you,” I reply.
“I’ll have to go to a few,” he states with a nod. Just then my cell phone began to ring rather loudly the ringtone being Good Times Bad Times by Led Zeppelin. I gave an apologetic smile and went to answer my phone. It ended up being Belle saying that I had to meet everyone at the comedy club for some drinks and a show. I agreed gingerly then got off the phone and put it back in my bag.

“So what are you guys going to be doing tonight?” I ask looking at Quentin and Til.
“Most likely going out for dinner did you want to join us?” Quentin asks.
“I’m going to the comedy club with some people, you guys should go and have a nice laugh,” I suggest with an inviting smile.
“Sounds like fun,” Til comments.
“Sure we’ll make an appearance,” Quentin answers gleefully.

We were at a comedy club and it was apparently amateur night but we were having a good ole time. Til and I got along famously sometimes finding ourselves in deep conversation whilst I felt Rob glaring at Til whenever he got the chance. My brother thought it’d be funny to sign me up without my knowledge or rather he was getting back at me for the previous night. It was mortifying hearing them call my name up on the stage. Johnny pushed me out of my seat with a devious look in his dark brown eyes and I glared at him furiously but quickly got onto the stage wanting to show him up. The guy on stage handed me the microphone and I got some random wolf whistles when I got on stage.

“Alright well since Captain Ahab set me up, how is everyone tonight?” I say into the microphone. People cheered. I had to think of something real fast and I was lucky I had big boobs otherwise convincing them would be harder.
“Not like this really has any point because we all know the answer, is anyone Mexican here tonight?” I continue. Several people yelled gleefully clapping loudly in response to my question.
“Man alright that’s great, I myself am half Mexican, my mother came from Mexico she has the adorable accent and all even after living in the US for nearly 25 years, any body half Mexican?” I go at next. Two people clapped.
“Awesome two people who are as culturally confused as I am, right well anyone who is Mexican or half Mexican knows that we can fucking party like no other,” I say. The Mexicans cheered loudly.
“That’s why we reproduce so much, it’s not because we can’t read the directions on the box of condoms, it’s because we want as many kids as possible so we can have a fucking party,” I state. People laughed.

“The best part of the parties is when you have that birthday party for the five year old and they invite the white kids they go to kindergarten with, oh my lord when those kids’ parents are dropping them off they look about to die seeing Jose, Juan, and Elvis carrying three cases of beers each in little wagons to the house,” I say. More laughs.
“And by the way Jose, Juan, and Elvis are also only five years old, us Mexicans have children for free labor as well, I think that’s why my dad married my mom, so he could get his landscaping done without having to constantly going to Home Depot to hire a couple guys,” I respond and people were laughing.
“I’m pretty white for being half Mexican though, so I get mistaken for other races a lot, which is great if I worked for the United Nations,” I say sarcastically. Surprisingly people chuckled.
“The only race I have never been mistaken for is of course black, which is the only race I’ve wished to be since I was in the third grade, I wrote a report on how I wanted to be a model just like Tyra Banks but later down the line I realized I wasn’t black nor was I tall enough, its cool though because I did get the 36 C’s that I sport to this very day so I guess dreams come half true,” I state gesturing to my chest. More laughs came.
“I love how toy companies are making dolls more ethnically more diverse though, and came out the Bratz Dollz, you know those things that have on more makeup and wear less clothes than a prostitute Friday night on the Vegas strip,” I say and people laughed.
“Its fun because now they come with their own mini birth control to put in their purses,” I continue.
“You’d think Ron Jeremy just bought out Mattel with the looks of these things, now when you are in the store trying to buy one of the dolls you just may lose it to some fifty five year old man who is buying it for his ‘daughter,’” I say with air quotes. People lost it.
“That’s actually where I pick up my boyfriends, I just stand there dressed like a Bratz Doll and they just swarm to me like I am a pedophile’s wet dream,” I carry on. People ‘ooo’ed as they laughed and I gave a smile.
“No seriously I really do like older men, I think they are fantastic,” I state and a lot of people cheered.
“I highly recommend older men, generally they have a job, are potty trained, and if you are paranoid of getting pregnant like I am, they probably have had a vasectomy from a previous marriage so it’s a win-win,” I say. The women clapped while laughing.
“That’s the thing about Catholic religion if you are a fifteen year old girl in church hearing about some girl getting impregnated by some omniscient being without their consolation, you kind of freak out,” I state. People laughed.
“It wasn’t that I thought I was going to be the next virgin Mary because I think God isn’t the type to do the same thing over again but Satan on the other hand has yet to impregnate someone so that’s a little off putting,” I maintain and they laughed.
“So have sex, have lots of kids, get free labor, and a reason to become an alcoholic, thank you everybody,” I say finally as I raised my hand with a smile. The people clapped a couple stood up which was a real ego booster and I got off stage to have the host pat me on the shoulder as to say I did well. I went over to my friends who were looking at me with smiles but my brother looked displeased.

“Lou you were actually really good up there,” Belle gushes.
“Gee thanks Belle,” I say with a laugh as I sat down between her and Til.
“You weren’t supposed to be good up there,” Johnny whines.
“Oh shut up, Ishmael or I’ll call up Moby to come finish you off,” I retort giving my brother a stern look. Walt burst out in laughter, loving the references as much as I did.
“I love you so much Lou,” Walt laughs as his eyes watered with pure joy.
“What’s with the Moby Dick references?” Quentin asks.
“Another time, another time,” I smile cheekily as my brother shot me a dirty look. Today was indeed a very good day.