All At Once
CINQ
They don't talk about the funeral afterwards. He supposes it's just one of those things; once you get to know someone, you don't talk about the event that served as a catalyst for your relationship. You might not even remember it. Joe remembers how he meets mostly everyone, but he doesn't bring it up because, well, Joe and Bryn have somehow gotten to having lunch together almost every day. It started with a casual, Hey, I heard you like French food - understatement of the century, Joe thinks - would you like to come along? and spiraled into a texted address and time and a winding conversation. He likes her a lot, actually, considering he thought she was a total bitch at first.
(Joe gets like that sometimes, these random spurts of immediate I like this person or I don't like this person as soon as he lays eyes on them. Most of the time he grudgingly changes his position and acknowledges that, okay, maybe he was a little hasty, but sometimes he just stays not liking them or, even rarer, does a complete 180 and kicks himself twenty times a day for not changing his position sooner.)
So Bryn and Joe spend their time in NYC in the spring, wandering around and stopping in and out of shops, cafes, studios and getting to know each other. Not really. Joe might be romanticizing it in his head. It's probably got a bit more sneezing and choking on coffee and stepping on each other's toes and people interrupting them to ask for autographs but the important thing is it feels good.
They're almost inseparable these first few weeks. Joe wakes up and he walks to that one French cafe they discovered together and Bryn meets him there for breakfast. They both prefer to eat breakfast properly, sitting down and the whole shebang, and then get a hot dog or taco and eat while walking for lunch. They eat breakfast together and then they start on their tour of New York City, armed with an iPhone, a Lonely Planet guide, and the phone number of one of their native New Yorker friends. They conquer Upper Manhattan like this, just by wandering through streets, and they've gotten to Times Square when summer arrives.
It's different now, because of - what else? - their jobs. Joe can't lie- he loves his job. He loves being in front of the cameras and behind them, the pre-production and the post-production, the studio of computers for HitRECord, the people he meets, all of it. (Actually, the red carpets and tabloids he doesn't enjoy so much but it's a small price to pay for everything else.) But it does mean days where he subsists entirely on coffee and Red Bull, and others where he just lounges around doing nothing.
So, when the summer starts, so does Joe's work.
He's recording Premium Rush so he's still in the city which is such a huge relief to him, even if he won't admit it, but they don't see each often as often as Joe would like. The EP The Raves are putting out is picking up too, and they're the most hands-on band he's ever met, and also the only ones successful enough for their record label to agree to their demands of overseeing everything and fiddling around with it themselves.
He sees Luke a lot more, though, now that he's done tracking guitar for their EP. It isn't, if Joe's perfectly honest with himself, that great. Luke's got this way of sighing and shaking his head and looking over his glasses at Joe, that I know what you're thinking right now type look that he supposes everyone has with their best friend. See, Joe knows how his face works; he knows that, when he chooses to show his emotions on his face, he's like an open picture book complete with helpful annotations. He can't help the way his face works. He also knows that when he shutters it away and controls his face (he is an actor, after all) he can fool mostly anyone. Luke isn't one of those people. And sometimes it's great to have that friend to kick your ass, someone who can always tell what's going on with you just by looking; sometimes it's not.
This is one of those times.
They're in a hospital because Joe fucked up his arm filming and crashed into the back of a taxi. Now he's sitting here getting thirty-one stitches. Luke laughs, and Joe glares at him. Fuck you, he says. Luke just laughs again. Joe, we’re in a hospital because you were filming an action movie set on fucking bikes and you crashed into the back of a taxi. I'm sorry, can I say that again? We're in a hospital because you were filming an action movie set on fucking bikes. An action movie set on bikes. An action movie set on bikes. He repeats this last sentence over and over until both of them are shaking with laughter and all of Joe’s stitches come out. The nurse glares at him when he apologizes and promptly starts laughing again. I’ll finish them up in ten, she says curtly, when you’re done laughing.
This just sets them off even more. They’re still laughing when the door bangs open and Bryn, hair flying and breaths coming in pants, crashes in. She looks at them for a minute and just gapes. Hello, Bryn, Joe says, smiling at her. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish for a few seconds before she walks over and sits down. I thought- I thought you were hurt! she says. I am, Joe tells her, pointing to the gash in his arm. She rolls her eyes. He – she jabs a finger at Luke, who’s grinning at Joe in that way that he hates – told me you were in a car crash. And not just any car crash, a car crash where you were on a bike! Joe nods and confirms that. Her eyes widen even more, if that’s possible. The car wasn’t moving, I just didn’t brake and I sort of… flew into it, he explains. Bryn pauses and looks at Joe, her expression unreadable. I can’t believe you, she says, and he can’t tell who she’s talking to; him, Luke, or maybe both of them. She stands up after that, says The nurse outside’s looking pretty miffed and I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch, kind of smile-grimaces at both of them, and leaves. The nurse comes back in. Joe doesn’t need to look up to see the shit-eating grin on Luke’s face, so he keeps his eyes on his arm.
Joe, Luke says. Oh God, Joe. When did this happen? Joe doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about, so he shrugs and says, I don't know. It just did.
(Joe gets like that sometimes, these random spurts of immediate I like this person or I don't like this person as soon as he lays eyes on them. Most of the time he grudgingly changes his position and acknowledges that, okay, maybe he was a little hasty, but sometimes he just stays not liking them or, even rarer, does a complete 180 and kicks himself twenty times a day for not changing his position sooner.)
So Bryn and Joe spend their time in NYC in the spring, wandering around and stopping in and out of shops, cafes, studios and getting to know each other. Not really. Joe might be romanticizing it in his head. It's probably got a bit more sneezing and choking on coffee and stepping on each other's toes and people interrupting them to ask for autographs but the important thing is it feels good.
They're almost inseparable these first few weeks. Joe wakes up and he walks to that one French cafe they discovered together and Bryn meets him there for breakfast. They both prefer to eat breakfast properly, sitting down and the whole shebang, and then get a hot dog or taco and eat while walking for lunch. They eat breakfast together and then they start on their tour of New York City, armed with an iPhone, a Lonely Planet guide, and the phone number of one of their native New Yorker friends. They conquer Upper Manhattan like this, just by wandering through streets, and they've gotten to Times Square when summer arrives.
It's different now, because of - what else? - their jobs. Joe can't lie- he loves his job. He loves being in front of the cameras and behind them, the pre-production and the post-production, the studio of computers for HitRECord, the people he meets, all of it. (Actually, the red carpets and tabloids he doesn't enjoy so much but it's a small price to pay for everything else.) But it does mean days where he subsists entirely on coffee and Red Bull, and others where he just lounges around doing nothing.
So, when the summer starts, so does Joe's work.
He's recording Premium Rush so he's still in the city which is such a huge relief to him, even if he won't admit it, but they don't see each often as often as Joe would like. The EP The Raves are putting out is picking up too, and they're the most hands-on band he's ever met, and also the only ones successful enough for their record label to agree to their demands of overseeing everything and fiddling around with it themselves.
He sees Luke a lot more, though, now that he's done tracking guitar for their EP. It isn't, if Joe's perfectly honest with himself, that great. Luke's got this way of sighing and shaking his head and looking over his glasses at Joe, that I know what you're thinking right now type look that he supposes everyone has with their best friend. See, Joe knows how his face works; he knows that, when he chooses to show his emotions on his face, he's like an open picture book complete with helpful annotations. He can't help the way his face works. He also knows that when he shutters it away and controls his face (he is an actor, after all) he can fool mostly anyone. Luke isn't one of those people. And sometimes it's great to have that friend to kick your ass, someone who can always tell what's going on with you just by looking; sometimes it's not.
This is one of those times.
They're in a hospital because Joe fucked up his arm filming and crashed into the back of a taxi. Now he's sitting here getting thirty-one stitches. Luke laughs, and Joe glares at him. Fuck you, he says. Luke just laughs again. Joe, we’re in a hospital because you were filming an action movie set on fucking bikes and you crashed into the back of a taxi. I'm sorry, can I say that again? We're in a hospital because you were filming an action movie set on fucking bikes. An action movie set on bikes. An action movie set on bikes. He repeats this last sentence over and over until both of them are shaking with laughter and all of Joe’s stitches come out. The nurse glares at him when he apologizes and promptly starts laughing again. I’ll finish them up in ten, she says curtly, when you’re done laughing.
This just sets them off even more. They’re still laughing when the door bangs open and Bryn, hair flying and breaths coming in pants, crashes in. She looks at them for a minute and just gapes. Hello, Bryn, Joe says, smiling at her. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish for a few seconds before she walks over and sits down. I thought- I thought you were hurt! she says. I am, Joe tells her, pointing to the gash in his arm. She rolls her eyes. He – she jabs a finger at Luke, who’s grinning at Joe in that way that he hates – told me you were in a car crash. And not just any car crash, a car crash where you were on a bike! Joe nods and confirms that. Her eyes widen even more, if that’s possible. The car wasn’t moving, I just didn’t brake and I sort of… flew into it, he explains. Bryn pauses and looks at Joe, her expression unreadable. I can’t believe you, she says, and he can’t tell who she’s talking to; him, Luke, or maybe both of them. She stands up after that, says The nurse outside’s looking pretty miffed and I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch, kind of smile-grimaces at both of them, and leaves. The nurse comes back in. Joe doesn’t need to look up to see the shit-eating grin on Luke’s face, so he keeps his eyes on his arm.
Joe, Luke says. Oh God, Joe. When did this happen? Joe doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about, so he shrugs and says, I don't know. It just did.
♠ ♠ ♠
I don't know why (probably because I've been reading too much knowmydark again) but I wrote all of this in second person before realising it was supposed to be in third. I don't know what's wrong with me; I usually hate second person.Please don't be a silent reader and comment!
-x, M.