DISCLAIMER: The following story is a fan fiction and in no way represents or is meant to represent true accounts of events. I do not know Jake Gyllenhaal or any other celebrities represented in this story and I do not want to imply that I do. I do not know Mr. Gyllenhaal or any other celebrity - therefore I do not know any details of his or their private lives or sexuality. If you are offended by erotica concerning homosexual behavior or are underage in your community, please do not continue reading.
Thanks for all the feedback!
Japan. Somewhere in Japan, someone was using my credit cards to buy outlandish things, like electronics and expensive bottles of alcohol or maybe even a car.
At least, in my mind, I assumed that's where my wallet drifted too. God only knows where it ended up after that day at the beach.
The wedding. The drinking. Jake saving me. What a fucked up weekend.
I sat staring blankly at my computer, hoping when I looked at the clock it wouldn't say 10 am. At least maybe noon. I looked -- 10:55 am. Peter had walked in five minutes ago and mumbled something about "nothing until lunch", then slammed his door. I heard the blinds fall hard to the bottom of the windowsill and knew he was crashing on the couch in there. The phone rang loudly -- I pressed the silence button, sending it to voicemail. If the boss was going to shirk work, I certainly wasn't going to pick up his slack.
I was so tired -- I hadn't slept more than an hour last night. I always have insomnia, but never like this. All I could think about was the night before.
Did I really try to kill myself? I still couldn't believe it. I was ashamed I had let things roll so far from my control yesterday morning. Thank god for Jake.
And what an amazing thing he had done. I had looked at the crumpled paper about 217 times since I got home. "Fuck 'em". He had some heart and soul and wit, something I loved to see in people. I wanted to call him and thank him and just talk, let him make me feel as at ease as he had made me feel on the back of his truck. I was ashamed, though, and embarrassed, and that was going to win out - because no matter how much I wanted a new friend or how hard I suspected he needed one, I simply couldn't do it.
The phone rang again. Caller ID said gate security. No thanks, guys.
Silence, send to voice mail.
I just wanted quiet, to sit at my desk right off of Peter's office in an old stucco building on the Sony lot, three stories up and freezing cold from too low a thermostat. I wanted to read celebrity gossip blogs and drink my Airborne and eat this cookie and just let everything sink in around me. A prince in an ivory stucco tower in Culver City.
The phone rang again. Gate security.
"Jesus." Silence, send to voice mail. I wasn't going to answer it now simply because they were being annoying.
I waited. The hum of the electricity -- the computers and the air conditioning -- hovered over the room. I watched the phone. I ate some cookie. I dared the phone to ring again
Ring!
"Fuck you," I told the phone quietly, pressing the silence button.
"Who the fuck keeps calling?" Peter and I share the line, and it had obviously disturbed him.
"Gate security. Did one of your tricks follow you to work this morning?"
"I don't think so." Peter said, mistaking my joke for the very real possibility that this was what actually had happened.
"Whore."
"Just make it stop."
"Will do."
The phone rang loudly again. Peter whimpered like a dying dog.
"I got it." I picked up the phone for gate security.
"Zero Pictures, this is Brandon."
"Hey, Brandon -- it's Stephanie at the gate," she said, as if I am on a first name basis with everyone on Sony security.
"Well, Stephanie at the gate, what can I do for you?"
"I was just calling to verify your name and office address."
And this is why she had called four other times? That Stephanie is a dedicated one.
"Um, Brandon Locke, assistant to Peter Stouffer, Zero Pictures, Poitier Building, 3241. I'm also an aries."
Not even a giggle.
"Thank you." Click.
"Classy," I mumbled. And very professional. I hung up the phone and glared at the computer screen. Silence again. I shivered -- it was freezing in here. Goosebumps covered my arms. The clock ticked loud.
"Can you get me some water?" Peter was being pouty. Whatever. I didn't even have the energy to feel annoyed by him.
"Yes sir."
I made my way to the kitchen and reached into the fridge, yanking out two cold bottles of water. Everything in this building was freezing. Just before I made it back to my chair the doorbell rang. Why won't everyone just leave us alone, I whined, to no one in particular.
Peter yelled decisively from his office, "I'm on a con call!"
"Got it."
I tucked the bottles under one arm and steadied myself down the steep staircase, down to the front door. We need a "do not disturb" sign, like in hotels. I reached for the door with my busy arm, pulling it open and at the same time dropping the bottles of water on the landing. Jesus. I'm like an "I Love Lucy" episode, only in color. I knelt down and reached for the bottles, pulling the door open at the bottom. A bottle rolled out the door, intent on escape. It ran into a bright green and hunter orange adidas. Probably the ugliest shoe I had ever seen. I looked up at it's owner, covering my eyes from the noon light.
And there stood Jake. I fell back on my ass, bewildered.
He smiled down at me.
"Hey," he said, as relaxed as the breeze. He reached down to grab the bottle of water at his feet. I had some sort of weird panic spasm and jumped up, reaching for the water and flying upright, nearly knocking him off the stairs as I stood.
"Hey," I stuttered. He has to think I'm at least mildly retarded.
He smiled before he said anything. He does this, I realize. It makes talking to him disarming because he imputes these moments of contentment into simply talking. It also means he's thinking out every single thing he says.
"Sorry to just drop in -- "
"That's fine," I said, half laughing and interrupting. We are the exact opposite -- words run out of my mouth, prefaced with nothing but tension and uncertainty. I have deplorable timing.
"That was me at the front gate. I knew you were on the lot, just not where. Stephanie helped me out."
"Stephanie. She's great." Great?! At what, checking id's? I'm a total ass. I tried to cross my arms, but the bottles got in the way.
"You want water?" I took the bottle I had nudged into my armpit and handed it out to him. Nice, Brandon. Real nice.
That smile again.
"Sure, thanks." He took the bottle and twisted off the cap, taking a sip.
Awkward silence.
"I wanted to make sure you were fine. From the other day, I mean." When he said that, the tension slipped some. "Yeah. I'm good. I'm doing really good." I did feel better since that morning, to be honest. And there was something about Jake that made me want to be honest. I felt nervous and calm at the same time -- like I couldn't fuck anything up with him. My heart was pounding, but my breathing was deep and smooth.
He looked down, put a hand in his pocket. He reached up with his other hand and squeezed his lower lip. What was he thinking? He looked up, smiling.
"So, yeah. Just wanted to check. If you're ever bored or want to talk, you got my number, right?"
"Got it. Yeah, I'll give you a call."
He caught my eye. I wanted him to keep it, but he looked down at the bottle in his hand.
"Thanks for the water."
He pivoted and started down the stairs, pulling his sunglasses from inside his shirt neck and throwing them on his face.
He didn't want to go. Stop him stop him stop him stop him... quick!
"Hey!"
He turned, holding his hand over his eyes, staring up at the landing.
Oh, shit. What am I doing? Why am I doing this? This is going to end badly. Maybe. Or not.
Just go with it. It will be what it will be. I've fallen for people that haven't fallen for me -- mistaking every look or gesture as love, then it ending up as nothing but friendliness. I've never felt as calm as this, so a little heartbreak might be worth a new friend.
"You wanna get lunch?"
He flashed his toothy grin wide.
"Yeah."
"Hold on. I'll be right back."
I bounded up the stairs, flying into Peter's office. He was sitting at his desk looking at internet porn. He jumped out of his skin.
"Jesus, Brandon!" He reached for his monitor, to turn it off, but realized I had seen everything.
"Oh, Peter." All I could do was smile. He was hilarious, and on any other day I would have let him have it. Just not now.
"Here's your water. I know it's early, but I gotta go to lunch right now."
Peter looked downtrodden.
"But I wanted to take you to lunch." To, no doubt, avail me with stories of the Abbey last night and whomever he had drug home.
"Tomorrow."
Defeated, he shrugged me off.
"Fine. But hurry back -- we've got stuff."
"No we don't."
Peter was never very good at the boss role.
"Please come back this afternoon."
"I will."
"Can you pick me something up?"
I tossed him the delivery menu and grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair, not waiting to hear his protests.
Jake was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, hands in pockets and relaxed.
"You eat meat?"
He let out a small laugh, maybe surprised at my question.
"Um, yeah."
"Let's go eat meat, then. I'll drive."
He narrowed his eyes at me, wondering about my forthright voice. I pulled my keys out and pointed at my car.
"That way you can keep your space."
Jake nodded slowly and walked to my car, ahead of me. He pulled on the door handle, but no dice.
"Oh, you got to go up and over."
"Like a Duke boy?"
I laughed at that.
"Yes, like a Duke boy."
I showed him, jumping up and landing in my driver's seat. I am not often the most graceful of folk, but I had perfected this jump after years of practice. If it were a summer game, I'd take the gold.
Jake jumped high, his hands on the back of the seat and the windshield. He landed hard, banging his knees on the dashboard.
"Ow, shit."
I wanted to giggle at him so bad, but just couldn't.
"You O.K.?"
"Yeah. Nice car." He said, smirking. I started her up and drove off the lot, down to this old fashioned Bar-b-que joint I loved a few blocks away.
"What's good?" He was looking at the menu like it was written in Korean.
"What isn't good here is the better question." Still bewildered.
"You like brisket."
"That's just beef, right?"
"Yeah."
"I'll get that."
The waitress came over, smiling. She set down the waters in front of us, glanced at Jake, and nearly lost her shit.
"Ooh! You that boy from the cowboy movie! Ooh!"
Jake pursed his lips into a tight smile. This probably wasn't even the first time today this had happened.
"That's me."
She composed herself a bit and pulled out her pad.
"I'm so glad I took Ester's shift cause she ain't gonna believe this -- what's your name again?"
"Heath Ledger."
I looked over at him, and he shot me a roll with it glance.
"She ain't gonna believe it. No, sir. SO glad you came in today. What you wanna eat?"
"Two brisket lunches," I piped up. She seemed surprised there was someone else at the table. She scribbled it on her pad and marched off to the kitchen.
"Sorry about that." It seemed like the only thing I could say.
"Why are you sorry?", Jake responded, his eyes questioning me.
He flustered me, a bit.
"I just, I mean, we could have gone somewhere else and maybe that wouldn't have happened. I don't think you like it." I needed to shut up.
He tilted his head to the side, thinking, twiddling his fork on the table.
"Part of the gig. I don't mind it THAT much." But maybe his eyes betrayed him.
Change the subject, I thought.
"So you're just a regular human being?"
He smirked.
"Yep. I'm a real boy."
"Well then that's how I'm gonna talk to you, like a real person, not some fancy pants star."
He nodded, happy with that.
"Good."
"Let me start by saying that the shoes you are wearing are the ugliest things I have ever seen in my young life."
He roared with laughter, banging a fist on the table.
"You don't like?" "Are you going hunting or running a marathon? At least if they were camoe they might blend in and I wouldn't have to look at them."
He nodded no.
"I like them -- I got them in Germany."
"They're very Euro."
"Fuck you." He threw his balled up straw wrapper at me. "I like them."
"You like 'em, I like 'em," I conceded.
He shook his head, a half smile on his face. "Good."
He caught my eye.
"How's the boy trouble?"
I raised my eyebrows, wondering at his question.
"Trouble boy is out of my life. Gone. Fuck 'em, right?"
Same smile. He nodded his head.
"Good."
Lunch flew by. We talked like new friends, digging out all those details friends pull from one another. Where you grew up. What your parents are like. I didn't want it to end.
But the sun was leaning well past noon.
"You have to get back."
I sighed, nodding no.
"No, please don't mention it."
He grinned.
"No, you got to. Responsibilities."
His tone was softer. That's a word he understands to the core.
"Right. Let's go then."
I slumped out of the booth and Jake followed me out the door. The Volkswagen twisted around the parking structure.
"I can't believe somebody parked in my space." I was pissed, but secretly elated at the fact that I was going to get to spend more time with him.
"Relax, bud."
He reached out and patted my hand on the gearshift, drawing his hand off of mine slower than one normally would. Adrenaline pushed through my body, my legs and arms burning, my heart racing. I hated/loved this feeling, for all that it could be and all that it probably wasn't.
I glanced over at him. He was looking straight ahead.
I parked on the top floor, the sunlight burning over the horizon. We ambled over to the elevator, neither one of us saying much. The elevator was old and dingy, with bad wood paneling and a flickering fluorescent.
The floors beeped by.
9
"Thanks for lunch -- it was really great." He sounded winded from that hike across the garage.
"No, yeah. It was totally great." I'm totally a dork.
8
"Where did you park again?" I said, trying to kill the stifle the elevator was causing, for whatever reason.
"Over by the Autry building. Opposite way from you."
"oh, yeah." I paused. Bite. The. Bullet.
"You wanna do this again sometime?"
7
He looked at me, his eyes sparkling. But where was the smile?
"Yeah. You want to have dinner tomorrow, maybe?"
6
If I hadn't been gasping for air I probably would have thrown up.
"Sure. It's a date." What the hell?! Don't freak the straight boy out.
He glanced at me, his mouth opened slightly. The elevator was so still, even though we were falling.
"Very good." He glanced up at the numbers, waiting to see the
5
...light up. I heard him breath in through his nose.
"Like today?"
I turned to him, not sure what he meant.
"Was... was today a date?" he said, slowly and deliberately.
4
I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. My heart raced so fast I thought it would fly out of my chest. I sat there, stunned.
3
"Um, I don't know." How do I answer that question?
"Was it?" Volley. Let him answer it. Cause I don't know what he's digging for, or why he's digging in the first place.
2
"Yeah. I hope so." He reached out and put his arms around me, pulling me into a hug. My arms went rigid in defense, not sure what was happening. I felt his breath, then his lips floating over my cheek. I relaxed enough to touch his hips.
"I don't do this."
I wrapped my hands slowly around his waist. Every question I had inside of me died right then. My eyes closed. I wanted to dissolve into him.
"I want to see you again."
His lips touched my cheek, moist and hot around his breath. He pulled this kiss back and stepped away from me, our arms sliding off each other. Our stubble grazed our faces. He breathed out and I breathed in, our lips an inch... a half inch away from each other.
1
The bell rang, signaling the first floor. He took a step back. Fear and wonder and excitement rushed over his face.
The doors opened, the light streaming inside. I was blinded.
He turned and walked out, then looked back at me. I made it out of the elevator, my knees wobbly.
He smiled slyly, probably at the shock on my face.
"Call me?"
He threw a cigarette in his mouth and lit it in one swoop.
The life flowed back into me, and with it some confidence.
"I will. Tomorrow night?"
He smiled.
"Definitely."
He turned and walked away. I watched him move through the golden afternoon, the shadow of the soundstage looming over him. He walked along the shadow, staying in the sun.
He looked back twice before he rounded the corner.