Date: Wed, 5 Apr 2006 23:51:05 -0700 From: christopher. Subject: breaking through part 10 This is fiction. I don't know Jake Gyllenhaal and my little story doesn't imply anything about his sexuality, but I'd do just about anything to have Jake all to myself. Feedback is greatly appreciated and any writer will tell you that they live for it; I'll answer every single one. Questions, comments, loved it or hated it? Shoot me a message at christopherrluu@gmail.com. This is part ten, which (to me at least) is a very big deal. This marks over one hundred and fifty pages of the story, over two months of writing, and a bunch of stuff that I'm really quite proud of. I've never been quite so committed to a story and I've never had such a loyal readership. So a big thank you goes out to everyone who's sent me a message, even if it's just to say that they like the story. I hope that old readers and new ones alike enjoy the direction the story is headed in and continue to offer the insight, feedback, questions, and comments that they've been giving from the very beginning. I've been hit hard with a case of writers block, but I think I'm just now getting over it. I think I've got some exciting stuff planned, so keep a look out for that. Thanks again for reading, I always have a lot of fun writing and I hope it shows. Part X Chris watched Jake on the tiny monitor in Jake's dressing room. He was out there smiling and laughing, talking about Road to Big Sur without sounding like he was begging people to watch the movie. Jake hated talk shows, it seemed like he was out there pawning his work, but he knew it was part of the business, both for him and everyone else involved in the movie. Chris had seen dressing room after dressing room, but these things never took more than an hour, so he didn't mind. Ellen's were definitely the nicest though, and whoever set it up put bottles of bubbly water in it, which instantly put them on Chris' good side. "So Jake, are you single? You're either going to break hearts or make them swell," Ellen said, leaning forward. Jake chuckled, "Um," the audience went crazy waiting for an answer. If he had to think about it, there was something going on. "Geez, I'm shy, really. I'm not used to this." "It's a simple question really, everyone wants to know, even me." "Aw, well, I'm sorry to have to break it to everyone that I'm seeing someone very special." Chris smiled, still watching the monitor. "Is that all you're going to say, that's just as bad as not answering at all," Ellen said, "but we knew it'd be like this, so we're going to get your assistant out here." The crowd cheered again as a screen between she and Jake showed the corridors backstage, the cameramen rushing around, knocking on a door that read "Jake G." Chris froze, it was all happening too fast to connect the dots, suddenly the door swung open and a cameraman was pulling him out, brining him out on stage. He couldn't believe it, could hardly breathe as they sat him down right next to Jake and clipped a microphone on his collar. Ellen was clapping wildly, Jake throwing an arm around him, "This isn't my assistant. This is Christopher Lewis, he's a really good buddy." "Sorry for the surprise, Chris, but if we're going to find out anything, it's going to be from you. Jake's not budging," Ellen said. "Well, um, yeah. Jake said he's seeing someone," Chris said, still dazed. He didn't know what to say. "What do you want to know?" "Who she is! The girls out there need to know who they're up against," Ellen said. "No, no," Jake said, "I mean let's just say I'm spoken for. It's a been a while, I'm pretty sure this is the who I'm going to be with for a long long time." There was an audible groan from the audience, surprising both Chris and Jake. "Yeah, they're pretty serious," Chris said, "but we should be happy for them, right?" The audience cheered again and Chris was reminded of trained seals. If Jake asked them all to hop up and down on one foot, they probably would have done it in a heartbeat. "So Chris, what do you do if you're not Jake's assistant?" Ellen asked, "At least the ladies know that there's an opening for that position." Chris giggled amazed at how interested people seemed to be in Jake's personal life. He figured living it was enough, he didn't have to imagine it, "I'm a writer." "Chris wrote Independence Day, the book that Topher Grace's new movie is based on," Jake said, "It's a great movie. Watch it after mine. I'm giving everyone permission to sneak into the second movie for free." "It's our lucky day here," Ellen said, addressing the audience, "and you guys thought you were only seeing Jake but here you've got two Hollywood bigshots!" They cheered, clapped, and Chris was doubly thrown off. "I'm no big shot, it was my first script but I'm really proud of it. If you haven't seen it yet, you should. Topher Grace is amazing, Mischa Barton is amazing, it's a story anyone can relate to," Chris said, trying to remember everything Topher usually said during an interview. Jake nodded, patting him on the leg, "It's a great movie. He worked really hard on it. If you've read the papers, you'll remember hearing about Mike White dropping out of the project. Chris picked up all the pieces. Buy his books! He's a great writer." "Books? Well, if there was an Ellen's book club, I'd definitely put you on it, you're so cute." Chris blushed, "Yeah, the new one is out and it's about love, so anyone can relate. It's sort of experimental, there's a poem and a short story too, but I'm really proud of it." "Chris has a voice that's really unique. He's honest and it's pure. There are parts of it when things are so real you don't know if you're reading fiction and other parts of it are so fantastic and ethereal that it's just...I don't know, just read it." "Well I'm sure we can get free copies to everyone," Ellen said, Chris braced himself for the screaming, but when it came, it wasn't as loud as any of the previous ones, "And free tickets to both movies, so you won't have to sneak in!" Then the roar came, Chris grabbed Jake's water and took a huge gulp, wishing he could run backstage again. Jake clapped, leaning back in his chair. He thought Chris was doing a great job, even if he was a little shaky. "It's been great having you here, both of you, but we've talked books and movies and left one thing out." "We don't have to talk about my personal life," Chris said. The audience, Jake, and Ellen all laughed, Chris wished he'd calmed down at the very beginning, this wasn't so bad if you ignored the audience and the cameras. "You two know what tomorrow is then, right?" Ellen asked, Chris nearly jumped out of his chair when the confetti blew from the ceiling and sweeping music played over the loudspeakers, "The Oscar nominations are going to be read at 5:45 in the morning. Will you two be up?" "I totally forgot about it," Jake said, "we've both been working publicity for our movies but we'll try, it's always exciting." "Exciting for Jake, but I'll be in bed," Chris said. "But a little bird tells me, well actually the little microphone in my ear tells me, that there's some buzz around the movie you worked on too," Ellen said, the crowd clapped again, but Chris ignored it. Downside to Santa Barbara: not many newsstands carried the Variety or the Hollywood Reporter. Chris wouldn't have read them anyway, but Topher did, and Topher didn't say anything about a buzz. He didn't even mention a murmur. "Thanks again for coming, both of you. Chris is going to kill me now, so this may be the last show, good luck tomorrow morning and we'll see you around again." Jake and Chris both looked out to the audience, smiling and waving. Buzz? Chris was the eternal optimist, even underneath all his doubts and fears, but there were some things he never dared dream about. *** Pulling Chris out of bed, Jake let him lay down on the couch, head in his lap as Jake flipped on the TV. It was 5:30 in the morning, but there were already bagels toasted and coffee, delicate plumes of smoke rising from the cups on the counter. Chris settled into Jake's lap and threw a blanket over himself, hoping to fall back asleep, but the volume was too loud and Jake's hands gently ran through his hair, soft passes on his cheek every time he dozed off. Chris was never that into awards, figuring that they only gave an excuse to put a sticker on a book or a tagline on a movie, it was too easy to rest, ignoring improvement and innovation. But Chris also had to admit that he didn't mind winning awards. If someone wanted to give him one, he'd take it and always wish his parents were there to see it, hoping that they'd be proud of him wherever they were, using it to improve, not settle. Chris was a little bit excited about the Academy Awards though, when Jake filled out his application to be a part of the academy, he joked that if he won an award, he'd thank the academy because it'd be rude not to. "If they don't call your name, I'm out. I want my money back," Chris said. He could hear Jake's heart racing. He'd turned out two great movies this year; Chris really wanted him to get some recognition. Being adored by fans was one thing, but every actor, whether they admitted it or not, wanted the approval of their peers too. Jake watched as Anna Paquin got on stage surrounded by five monitors and being watched by millions of people waiting on her every word. Chris imagined all of Hollywood, wrapped in blankets and robes, eyes sleepy but hearts racing as they saw their work validated or rejected. He wondered if Topher was up, if Mischa was watching, if Soderbergh was as glued to the TV as Jake was. "And the nominees for this year's Best Actor in a Leading Role are: "Jake Gyllenhaal in The Lazarus Effect..." Chris's head popped out of Jake's lap, his mouth agape. Jake turned to Chris, his eyes wide and he pulled Chris to him, "ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod," Chris couldn't believe it, his heart was racing as fast as Jake's and his entire body tingled. Topher and Jake both nominated, he was glad Jake had dragged him out of bed. Jake's phone rang, undoubtedly a congratulations call from Maggie. Jake kissed Chris hard, both of them riding the high, ignoring the TV and the phone as their lips crashed into each other. The house phone rang and Jake knew he couldn't ignore Maggie any longer, she could probably guess what was going on. Jake pulled away from Chris, his eyes still wide in disbelief as he hurdled towards the phone. Chris reached for the remote to shut off the TV, "Topher Grace for Independence Day," Chris' eyes grew wide again, Anna had moved on to Actor in a Supporting Role, and if it wasn't amazing enough that Jake got nominated, Topher was too, and for his movie, the movie with his script had gotten Topher a nomination. He wanted to call him but figured that he'd have parents and agents calling him. He switched off the TV and walked over to Jake, who was talking excitedly to Maggie over the phone. Jake threw an arm around him, "This is amazing. I've got the two people I care about the most here, and I'm up for an award," Jake said, "I can't believe it." He hung up the phone and kissed Chris again, the sun just now spilling into the living room. Jake's heart was still racing and Chris wondered if he'd ever calm down. "Congratulations," Chris whispered into his ear, "I'm so proud of you." *** "I can't believe you turned off the TV," Topher said, the makeup girl frowning. Chris took note: don't talk when getting made up. "When I called you really didn't know?" "After you got announced, we turned it off. I didn't really care about anything else," Chris said, spinning his chair around. Jake smiled, playing with the cuffs of his shirt. "We got distracted," Chris said, "phone calls and stuff." When she finished with Topher, the makeup girl stepped over to Chris and started spun him so that he faced her. Her hands moved with mechanical precision as Topher examined his face in the mirror. Jake watched carefully as she brushed powder over Chris' face. "But after you called, we got even more crazy. Jumping and yelling, it was out of control." She set down her brush looked closely at Chris, her eyes darting up and down. "Thanks," Chris said. She nodded, reaching for Vaseline. Topher was playing with his hair now, even though it'd only been a few minutes before they'd had it done. "Did they tell you what the headline would be?" Jake asked. "'Three of a Kind?' Something like that. 'Three Under Thirty?'" Chris couldn't remember. He'd talked to the Entertainment Weekly reporter longer than both Jake and Topher did, even though he was the one readers probably cared least about. "Triple threat," the makeup girl said, "Hollywood's up and comers charge the Oscars." The three men were silenced. "Thanks," Topher said, "we've had a lot on our minds." "Finished," she said, probably glad to be rid of them, "they'll take you in wardrobe now." Chris slid out of the chair and followed Topher and Jake out of the room, figuring they knew the drill better than he did. He never thought that the buzz that Ellen was talking about meant that he'd get nominated. He figured that Soderbergh would, but he never thought that Topher would get a nod, and he never even dreamed that he'd get nominated for best adapted screenplay. Now he had a reason to be the talk of Hollywood. Being young, fresh, and having a devastating background, the press ate it up. Being seen with Jake and Topher all the time didn't hurt either. "White t-shirts for everyone," the stylist said. Jake pulled off his cowboy shirt and pulled on the t-shirt that she handed him, the thin fabric stretching tight across his chest. Jake smoothed it down over his stomach, "looks great," she said, "is it too tight?" "What do you think," Jake asked Chris. "Looks great," Chris said, running his fingers over Jake's bicep, "is that it? "Five outfits each, this is just the first," she said, handing Chris the same shirt. He was thinner than Jake, but he liked the way it fit. The three of them headed out to the set. Vivian was out of her mind trying to set up the interviews and the photo sessions, the nomination seemed to have more of an effect on him than all of his previous awards combined. Every magazine, newspaper, television, and radio show wanted a piece of him and every single one was asking the same questions. Chris let Vivian take care of what he'd do, wondering why Entertainment Weekly wanted him. James White, their photographer, was a friend of both Jake and Topher, so Chris stood on the sidelines as the got reacquainted. "When I saw the movie, I thought it was devastating," James said, turning to Chris. Surprised, Chris thought he was talking to Topher, "Thanks, it took a lot out of me." "It was flawless, really," he said. Chris looked over James' shoulder at Jake, who was beaming with pride. "Take your shoes off guys. The sooner we get started, the sooner we'll be done." Chris kicked off his sandals, watching the assistants with their light meters milling around the set. It was simple, just a few stools on a black background. Chris hoped it would make them all look good, he didn't want to be the one teenage girls cut out of the picture because he wasn't as cute as the others. "Topher's the one you should be complimenting," Chris said, "he read the lines." Jake sat down on the leftmost stool, motioning for Chris to sit on the one in the middle, "Like this, James?" Jake asked, smiling. "We'll try it a few ways," James said, "just get your asses out there." Jake pulled Chris to him, throwing him off balance. Everyone laughed and right then and there, Chris knew it was going to be a long day, but goofing off with Jake and Topher was better than answering questions about first screenplays any day. *** "I was nervous, nervous as hell," Chris said, hoping Vivian wouldn't chew him out for using the word "hell." "But you trusted Steven Soderbergh?" "Yeah, of course. He's great. I love his work. I was new to the whole thing and he was telling me what he was doing and how things worked. I was on set so much I felt like part of the crew, not just the writer." "And your connection to Jake Gyllenhaal and Topher Grace? The three of you have been seen all over town together, like a sort of Oscar fraternity." Chris laughed, "Well, Topher and I worked on the movie together, so we're really good friends. Jake and I met a while back when he moved to Santa Barbara. We've been buddies for a long time. It was just amazing that we all got nominated together. It sort of brought us closer." "But no competition, you're all in different categories." Chris nodded, seeing Vivian tapping on the glass, mouthing 'they can't hear you!' "Yeah, yeah," Chris said quickly. The radio world was weird, Chris didn't think he'd ever get used to it. "Will you win?" "I'm up against really good movies," Chris said, "but Jake, Topher, and I figure we'll share if just one of us wins." The interviewer laughed, "Will you write another one? Is there another script milling around in your head?" "I don't know," Chris said, "this one took a lot out of me, but I'm not going to rule it out entirely." "Last question, would Jake and Topher star in it?" "We can only dream," Chris said, "thanks for having me on the show." She gave her signoff while shaking Chris' hand, "Tune to ABC to see what happens Oscar Sunday for Jake, Chris, and Topher, we wish them all the best of luck." Suddenly the room got quiet, Chris relieved to have another interview finished. "I used to talk about books," Chris said to Vivian when he took his earphones off, "we can't even mention that? I'd like people to know that I've done stuff other than this movie. This was sort of a fluke." She shrugged through the glass, motioning for Chris to come to her side of it. "I told them to put it in somewhere, but these jackasses just want to talk about the Oscar." "Well, Jake and Topher have to answer the same five questions over and over," Chris said, "at least I'm not featured in every magazine and radio show out there." "You're actually in different ones. They don't want you in People, but they want you for Vanity Fair. They're aiming you at different demographics. But the three of you are going to be on Ellen together, Oprah. They're treating you like a package deal." "It's easier for me," Chris said, "I don't have to talk as much. I just don't want everyone to get sick of us." "That's not going to happen," Vivian said, "you can't go anywhere without hearing about the three of you, they're calling you the next generation of Hollywood." The three of them thought that they were nearing overexposure, so all three of them were having this conversation. "Viv, I think we should slow down. I want to enjoy everything, you know? This doesn't happen every day, I want to be able to sit back once in a while." "It's almost over," Vivian said, "there's a sprint to the finish line and then you guys will be yesterday's news. Live it while you can." Chris nodded, picking up his things. He hadn't touched his laptop in weeks, so it was back at home. He had his journals, a media kit for the movie he had to carry around, and an old copy of Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird. It was Jake's favorite book, he could recite passages from it, and Chris wanted to read it again for him, it'd give them something to talk about while they were sitting at the awards ceremony. "Will I look like a bitch if I cancel the rest of the radio shows today?" Chris asked. Vivian raised her eyebrow but understood, "Did you come down with something? Was it something you ate?" "What do you mean?" "Was it something you ate?" Chris nodded slowly, "I think so, I'm actually going to go throw up." Hollywood was all about appearances. Interns mulling around everywhere, Chris didn't want to look like he was flaking out on his responsibilities. Vivian rolled her eyes, "I'll get the car. Wait out front." Chris watched her leave, relieved that he could spend the rest of the day reading. Pulling his sunglasses on, he stepped outside, it was open season for photographers, and even though he never thought he'd be on the pages of US Weekly and InTouch, they even wanted a piece of him. Generally they were really polite, staying a good distance away, and Chris knew that they were just doing their job. "Have you seen the cover yet?" one of the photographers yelled. Chris turned around to see him holding up the Entertainment Weekly. Chris walked over to give it a closer look. There they were, Chris sitting up on the stool, back leaning against Jake, who was standing. Topher knelt down, his back against Chris' stool. It looked good, Chris thought. Not too posed, not too polished. Jake's pants were low, a sliver of underwear peeking above the waist and Chris thought that none of them looked to smiley or goofy. The headlines ran down the right of the page and they were off-center, set to the left of the magazine. Chris really liked it, hoping that maybe they'd send a copy to the house. They all looked confident, effortlessly put together, "Can I get a signed copy of that?" Chris heard over his shoulder. He turned around and Topher's dark green eyes were staring right back at him, "Turned out good, right?" "They ordered us in descending order, cutest to you," Chris joked, hugging Topher. He heard cameras snapping behind him, "I like it. Are you getting something to eat? I'm starving." "You're done?" Topher asked, looking over at the ClearChannel building. It was where most of the radio stations in LA were, so even though it made it easier to get from station to station, Chris didn't want to do any more radio interviews. "I set up a robot in there, giving them what they want to hear," Chris said. Topher nodded, smiling, "They're the worst," he said, "let's get going." Chris reached for his phone to call Vivian, turning his back to the photographers. Topher did the same and they screamed their objections. It'd been enough, Chris thought, walking a few steps away. Topher followed and they both hoped the photographers would get the message. He'd give them what they wanted but as soon as they got it, he'd get on with his own life. Topher had a nonchalance about the photographers, he acted like they weren't even there no matter how many there were and how loud they were. When he was with Jake, he usually ignored them too, but on his own, he felt like he was obligated to give them something. If they were desperate enough to be chasing him down, they were probably the new ones, fresh meat. He'd give them a break, after all, he knew what it was like to be the new kid on the block, he was living it right now. *** "I've got a brother and a friend nominated," Maggie said, "of course I'm going." "If I have to do any more promotion, I'm going to go crazy," Chris said, "how does Jake do it?" "He hates it too, trust me. He'll do it, but he hates it." "What's taking him so long?" Chris said, anxious. They only saw each other at night, and even when they did see each other, they were tired and irritable, just hopping into bed and getting ready to do it all over again the next day. "He'll be here," Maggie said, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear, "an afternoon off is like a vacation." Chris heard a knock on the door and he ran for it, Jake's tired expression lifting when he saw him. Chris' lips were warm and soft against his, it didn't matter he'd answered the same questions all morning, if he came home to this, he'd do it all over again. Chris felt Jake's tongue snake into his mouth, Jake shutting the door with his foot. "I missed you so much," Jake whispered, his was smiling now. Chris felt Jake's strong arms around him, burrowing his nose into his messy hair. They'd spent the last few days crashing on Maggie's couch, both of them missed being at home, but it was nice spending time with Maggie and being close to the luncheons and benefits being thrown for the nominees. Chris was always surprised to see people like Drew Barrymore and Nicole Richie just walking the streets like normal people, but he was grateful, because photographers were much more interested in them than he and Jake. "When you guys finish making out, we can get going," Maggie said, glossing her lips. "We'll catch up," Jake said, knowing that Maggie was more worried about meeting her boyfriend on time than getting to lunch on time. Chris laughed, nibbling on Jake's ear. Waving at Maggie, Chris kissed Jake again, hearing the door close behind her. Jake groaned, feeling Chris' fingers at his waist. "We can't do this right now," Jake panted, "they're waiting for us." "I'm dying, Jake," Chris whispered into his ear. Jake shuddered, Chris' hands running up his stomach sent shivers under his skin. "Me too, me too," Jake stuttered out, "but we have to get going." Chris groaned, resting his forehead on Jake's shoulder. He felt Jake's fingers in his hair, long, slow strokes trying to soothe him, "Tonight though, we'll have some time to ourselves." Chris groaned again, his fingers slipping out from under Jake's t-shirt. Jake slid his hands down to Chris' back, giving him another deep kiss. Pulling away, Chris let a sigh slip from his lips. Jake looked at him, deep blue eyes intense, apologetic, "I love you." "You look tense," Topher said. The official nominee luncheon was at the Roosevelt Hotel, and even though there'd been other lunches just like this one, this one was catered by Wolfgang Puck and had more press than all the others, which didn't help Chris relax at all. "You have no idea," Chris whispered to him. Jake was in an interview with the rest of the Lazarus Effect cast, and soon, Chris and Topher would have to take their turn. Neither of them had worn ties and all three of them felt like they were underdressed, only perpetuating the frat boy image that the press had forced on them. Mischa was gorgeous in a navy blue dress, her eyes sparkling and her skin glowing. She wasn't nominated, but Soderbergh insisted that she come, owing it up to team morale. He had more pull in Hollywood than Chris realized, and he was glad that his name was attached to the movie. Topher was oddly quiet, running questions and answers through his head. "Calm down, you're making me nervous." "Sorry," Topher said, "it's just real now, look at everyone. We're sitting here nominated for the biggest award out there." Chris nodded, looking around the room. Steven Spielberg, George Clooney, Rob Marshall, Charlize Theron, Reese Witherspoon, they were all there. Chris didn't really have anything to say to any of them, so he sat, somewhat star struck while Topher and Jake felt the obligation to network and talk. Jake usually pulled Chris along with him, so he got to know a few of the actors and actresses, finding out that some of them had actually read his books and finding out that some of them were bitches and assholes. But today, he sat at the table and watched, Jake working the room like a professional. "You were cute on Ellen a few weeks ago," Chris heard over his shoulder. It was Natalie, and Chris hopped out of his chair to give her a hug. "I missed you," Chris said, "congratulations." "Same to you, buddy," Natalie said, "it's unbelievable. It's so exciting." "Did you like the book? Have we talked about it since I gave it to you?" "I loved it!" Natalie said, her eyes wide, "I could talk to you about it for hours. The chapter where the narrator is looking through all the windows is genius! I couldn't stop picturing it." "Thanks," Chris said, blushing. He was really proud of the book and since he'd been on publicity for the movie and not out touring with the book, he hadn't heard much from readers. The critics were split, some said it was too outrageous, others embraced its hints of postmodernism, so Chris wasn't sure what people thought of it. "Your movie was amazing," he said, "Jake and I saw it a few weeks after it opened, I think you're going to win." Compliments were handed out at these events like hors d'oeuvres, Chris was never sure which ones were genuine and if the people he complimented thought he was genuine. "We should have lunch or something, I want to talk about the book. And the story at the end! It blows my mind." Chris nodded, looking around the room for Jake, the only guy who decided to wear a gray suit. At least it made him easy to spot. Chris and Natalie walked over together, "I'll see what we're doing, I don't know when which banquet is and when photo calls are. It's so weird." "Hey," Jake said, swinging his arm over Chris' shoulder. "How are you two doing?" "You can't just leave your man hanging out by himself," Natalie said, "someone will steal him away." Chris threw her a sideways glance. "Chris is a good kid," Jake said, "who's not into old guys. We're the youngest ones here." "Well there's Topher," Natalie said, not realizing the old scab she'd picked at. "He's cute too, Chris." "We're just friends," Chris said, "it'd be too weird. Anyway, I'm spoken for." Jake smiled, "Chris and I saw your movie, Nat. We didn't fall asleep or anything, it was great." Natalie slapped him on the arm playfully, "If I see you doing one more brooding disturbed outsider, I'll throw up." Chris watched as they threw silly insults at each other, a smile on his face. Actors and actresses weren't the untouchable deities that he once thought. They were normal. They had problems, they had issues, they joked around with each other, and they loved people and lost people just like normal people. It was glitz and glamour every now and then, but overall, Natalie and Mischa, Jake and Topher, they were all normal people with a job that put them out in the open. "Natalie liked the new book," Chris said just as Topher came over. "Our call," Topher said, "I'll walk you?" "Good luck in there guys," Jake said, slipping his arm down Chris' back. Chris and Topher were the only two people from the movie to be nominated, so the long table the academy had set up in front of the reporters looked huge and empty. Chris sat down and looked out at the reporters. They all sat there, pens and tape recorders in hand, at the ready to record every word that came out of their mouths. "First question is for Topher. What drew you to the script?" Topher looked over at Chris, "This guy right here. The book was amazing and when I found out that Chris, or Christopher I mean, was adapting it himself, I knew it would have the same feelings as the book. It's smart and funny, but sort of sad at the same time. I waned to be a part of it from day one." "Second question for both of you. With the batch of young nominees this year, what do you think the future of Hollywood is?" Chris leaned in to the microphone, "I'm proud to be a part of this group, which I guess Topher is a part of too, and Jake, and Natalie, but I think it shows how young actors, young writers, young directors, are all taking big risks. I think that Topher took a big risk playing someone passive, who takes orders from a girl younger than him, to fall second place to a lot of things, and I know in writing the script that I was trying a lot of things I thought were exciting and new. I'm glad that we're getting our voices out and being recognized and rewarded for it." "Another question for Topher, was it strange having the writer on set the entire shoot. Were there constant re-writes and improvisation?" "No, Chris is a good friend so it wasn't like that at all. The script was so clean the first time that there weren't that many changes." "And if there was improvisation, it just made the movie better," Chris added. Topher smiled at him. "How is it that being so close to Mr. Gyllenhaal, he didn't get a part in the film?" "We're friends, that doesn't mean that he was going to be in the movie. I didn't have much say over casting. I gave my input but in the end, it was Steven's choice." "Topher, do you feel like this is your breakthrough role?" "I don't know what I have to break through, but I feel like this role is more serious than a lot of roles I've done, there was more subtlety and it was just great to do a movie that resonated with so many people." "You two and Jake Gyllenhaal have developed quite a strong bond, is it because you're so young or because you're all going through the same thing?" "We're trying to keep the questions relevant to the film," Vivian said, from the front row, "thank you." Chris and Topher answered questions for what seemed like forever, every single one something they'd already answered, every time they answered they felt like tape recorders spitting out canned answers. Chris buttoned his jacket up and stood, the two of them posing for a few pictures as the session ended. "Thank you all for coming," Chris said, leaning into the microphone, "we'll see you tomorrow probably." Topher pushed Chris playfully as they walked away, cameras flashing and voices muttering as they left. Chris hoped it went well and that he wouldn't sound stupid when the things he said were printed up. Back in the banquet hall, he looked around for Jake, hoping that they'd be able to ditch the rest of the lunch. "I don't see him," Topher said. "Me either," Chris said as he craned his neck, trying to get a good look over the crowd. He jumped when he felt an arm around him, "Let's blow this joint," Jake whispered into his ear. Smiling, Chris grabbed his hand; "I'll see you around, Topher. Have fun today." *** Jake pulled Chris into a quiet hallway as they wandered the Roosevelt. Maggie said she'd pick them up in half an hour, so they did their best to escape the cameras and reporters and find a place they could be alone. "I can't think straight," Jake said, his voice breathy, "I couldn't even answer the questions in there." Chris kissed him, Jake smiling when they broke apart. "You're so tense," Chris whispered, his hands running down the front of Jake's shirt. He kissed Jake's neck, feeling a shiver run down his entire body, "But we can't do this here. And they don't rent rooms by the hour." "Fuck that, I'm going to need more than an hour," Jake said, his mouth crashing into Chris' again. "What am I, in high school?" Chris pulled him back into a kiss, fingers tracing his jaw. They heard a door open and Chris jumped back, his fingers fixing the bangs of Jake's hair. Jake tried to suppress a giggle; they really were acting like they were in high school again. Chris leaned in, their foreheads coming together, Chris' eyes darting from Jake's to the end of the hallway. He felt a vibration in his pocket and reached for it. Jake grabbed it out of his hand, "He's busy," Jake said, his voice low, "you're going to have to call back." "This is important," Chris heard, "it's about Blue Eyes Blue, tell him it hit the bestsellers in New York." Chris eyes grew wide and he reached for the phone, but Jake held him back, "I'll make sure he gets it," he said. "Also tell him to imagine where it'd be if he'd done some promotion," Chris heard before they hung up. "Who was that?" Chris asked, surprised that anyone bearing good news would tinge it with spite like that. Jake stepped back to look at the screen more clearly, "It says 'Houghton New York' on your phone." He handed Chris the phone again, Chris' face not hiding any of the confusion they both felt, "What was that?" "I should ask Vivian," he said, "I mean, why? That's so weird." Jake leaned in for a kiss, but Chris turned his head, his face tense and his thumb already scrolling down to find Vivian's number. He took a step away from Jake, his hand slipping from Jake's. He watched as Chris paced the hallway, his voice agitated and puzzled. Jake leaned against the wall, Chris finally coming to face him, his forehead falling onto Jake's shoulder. "They're mad I'm running around Hollywood and talking about something that's not making them any money." Jake wrapped his arms around Chris, feeling his exasperated breaths, "Sometimes you just make the wrong choices, I guess." "What are you talking about," Jake said, his hands on Chris shoulders, their eyes met and Jake didn't let Chris look away, "you are promoting your work. This movie took a lot out of you. I know because I saw the sleep you lost, I saw you sitting there typing, I saw you fall asleep at your computer. This is bullshit." Jake only swore when he got really mad, his eyebrows furrowing together, "Let them say what they want, what you're doing right now is work. This is promotion." Jake felt Chris' hands run up the hard muscles of his stomach, trying to find comfort in something familiar. "Come on, Maggie'll be pulling up any minute." Chris nodded and followed Jake, his head bowed as they walked through the lavish hotel. Did they expect him to just fly out to New York and do a reading? They wanted him to go to an Oscar luncheon and then do a signing later in the afternoon? Jake grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight, "Forget about it. Come on." *** Jake had seen Chris laugh, seen him cry, and seen him everything in between. But Jake had never seen him as torn as he had after the phone call. Chris went for a run the next morning, insisting that he wanted to go alone, ignoring the fact that he didn't bring anything to Maggie's apartment but a pair of sandals and dress shoes. He slipped the sandals on and went out into the chill of the morning, promising to come back with breakfast. Jake only nodded, knowing that Chris could be stubborn as hell when he set his mind to it. Chris gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and Jake watched as he pulled his hood over his head and closed the door behind him. He lay back, his eyes focusing on the ceiling. Chris was in a tough spot, movies and books had a sort of uneasy relationship, they bounced off each other and someone like Chris was blurring the lines. Jake couldn't think of anyone as young as he was dealing with book deals and screenwriting honors the way Chris was, there was no road to follow. Jake realized that Chris had his roots in the book world, owed everything he had to his readers and his publisher, but if he wanted to branch out, he shouldn't have been punished for it. Jake ran his hands over his face, feeling the scratchy hairs of his beard, his fingers running over his jaw and his chin. Chris always told him that he liked the scratchy feeling of it, the coarse hairs against his smooth skin. "You can't fix this," Jake heard. Maggie was already dressed, walking over to the kitchen to grab her purse, "This is just something he has to deal with. You can't rush in and make it better." "I don't want him to feel like he's turning his back on anything," Jake said, his voice still sleepy, "he's got a lot in front of him. They're making him feel like he's a traitor." "Listen to me, Jake. Don't butt into this," Maggie said, "don't butt in unless he asks." "He won't," Jake said, "he doesn't ask for help, even when he needs it." "Sounds just like you. No wonder you guys get along so well. Call me if you need a ride anywhere. I have a fitting and some other things. Trust me, it'll all turn out okay. He'll figure it out," Jake waved at her over his shoulder, hearing the door shut. He shut his eyes again, taking a deep breath. "Where'd Maggie go?" Jake heard, his eyes fluttering open. Had he fallen asleep again? He got up, turning around to see Chris taking his sunglasses off, his face shiny with sweat. He was holding a bag from the bagel shop down the street. Both of them were creatures of habit, always holding onto a good thing when they found it. "Girl stuff," Jake said, watching Chris pull his sweatshirt over his head, his t-shirt going with it, "I'll eat hers." "I'm going to take a shower first," Chris said, handing Jake the bag. "No, sit down and take a breather." Chris flopped down on the sofa bed next to Jake, stretching his arms up over his head. Jake leaned in, kissing his neck as his hands ran down his chest, damp with sweat. "Don't, come on. I feel all sticky and gross." "We're going to get that way anyway," Jake whispered, kissing Chris on the lips. Chris put his hand on the back of Jake's neck, feeling himself being pushed down onto the bed, bagels forgotten as Jake crawled on top of him. Both of them already shirtless, Jake could feel the heat radiating from Chris' body, Chris' lips hungry and desperate against his. Jake felt Chris' hands at his waist, fingers slipping under the waistband of his boxers. Jake felt Chris' hard cock through the thin material of his running shorts, hard against his thigh. Jake threw his head back when he felt Chris' hand wrap around his dick, sighing when Chris took the opportunity to latch onto his neck and pull his shorts down. Groaning, Jake pushed his lips against Chris', his hands reaching down to Chris' cock, stroking it before pulling off Chris' shorts. Chris hissed, his body flushed, tired from his jog and now the strain of Jake's body against his. He could feel Jake's hairy chest against his own, both their hearts beating fast and hard. Jake rolled him over, tongue running up the back of his neck before nibbling on his earlobe. Chris could feel drops of sweat or pre-cum, maybe both, on his back, Jake's heavy breathing echoing in his ear. Gritting his teeth together, he felt Jake's finger press into him. His fists balled, sheets wrinkling beneath them as he tried to breathe, to relax. He tried to clear his mind and concentrate on Jake's breathing and the stretching in his hole. He could feel his body shaking as Jake sat up on his haunches, another finger slipping in. Running a hand down Chris' spine, Jake felt himself pressing through the muscle, watching the muscles in Chris' back tense as he pushed into the sweet tightness, his body slick with sweat. He heard Chris groan, his back arching as Jake's length slipped in, his hole squeezing Jake's tight length. "God, Chris," Jake whispered, laying his body on top of Chris' as he pulled out, groaning when he felt Chris's tight hole on his cock, every movement drawing a pant or a sigh, pulling a groan or a hiss from Chris. Jake pushed in, his movements fluid and smooth, Chris moving under him; their hips moving together as Chris stroked himself, his shoulders tense under Jake. Jake nibbled the skin of Chris' neck, grunting as he thrust in and out. He pushed deep and hard, the sound of skin against skin echoing with their groans. He felt Chris pull away, rolling onto his back and lifting his leg to Jake's shoulder. Jake grabbed it, pulling Chris' ass to him again, pressing his hard dick back into Chris' hole, watching as Chris' eyes shut tight, the muscles of his neck tense and rigid. Articulate everywhere but in bed, Chris let out incoherent grunts and groans, his head giving way to the sensations of his body. Jake let his thrusts go longer, deeper, feeling himself inch closer and closer to the edge. Chris stroked his cock, experience telling his hand where to rub, how fast and how hard, he needed to shoot, to just drown in the sensation and forget about everything but Jake. His head leaned back as he felt his body tense, Jake grabbing his hand, leaning down to kiss him. Chris panted, Jake's tongue darting into his mouth as he felt himself slip back. Jake was still thrusting, leaving Chris' rigid cock leaking pre-cum onto his stomach. Jake's hand replaced his and he gritted his teeth together, feeling his body tingle all over. He felt a hot surge down his spine and the sticky wetness of his cum on his chest, Jake moaning when he felt Chris' hole get even tighter, pulsing and clenching against his length. Chris rested his hands on Jake's broad shoulders, feeling them flex with every push in and every pull out. Jake's eyes were shut, sweat rolling down his temples as Chris felt his thrusts get more erratic, strings of hard deep thrusts before a few short ones, pre-cum slicking his hole. Jake froze and Chris felt it inside him, the familiar heat and the pulsing jets of cum shooting into him. Groaning, he let his legs slip from Jake's shoulder, wrapping them around his waist. Jake's warm body rested on top of his, his body still shuddering. Chris could feel cum dripping out of his hole, Jake's lips against his own. Their bodies were damp and slick, the room suddenly sticky and hot. "Tell me it'll always be like this," Jake panted, his eyes shut. Chris could only nod, running soothing hands down Jake's back. Pushed his hair back off his forehead, his body too exhausted to move. Chris shut his eyes, focusing on Jake's even breathing and his steady heartbeat. Jake kissed him again, his eyes heavy. Chris smiled, if he was with Jake, he had everything he needed. *** "You never expect anything like this," Jake said, "you dream about it, but you don't expect it." Another day, another interview; he looked over at Dean's checklist. This was the last one before lunch. "Why did you decide to move to Santa Barbara?" "I had to get away from LA, go somewhere with nice beaches and nice people. Santa Barbara is home now, I wouldn't live anywhere else. I don't miss LA when I'm on set, I miss being able to walk or bike everywhere, to have people know my name and how I take my coffee." "They leave you alone?" "They treat me like I'm anyone else. It's exactly what I wanted." Jake leaned back in his chair, wondering how many interviews he'd have to go through until he'd get a new question. "Will you win the Oscar?" "I want to, I'm not going to lie, you don't go into something like this hoping to lose, that's for sure. It's not up to me though, is it?" Jake said, grinning. He shook the interviewers hand and watched them leave, reaching for his phone only after Dean popped his head into the room. "Take two for lunch, then you'll be back here for I think five more of these," Jake nodded, scrolling down to Chris' name on his phone. "I really am excited to be nominated," Chris said, his arms out to his sides and an old Italian woman pinning things here and there, marking his sleeves with white chalk, "I just don't want to have to keep saying it." "I'm sick of it too. We all are," Jake said, tapping foot on the marble floor. He swirled his coffee around in the cup, "Did you get to see Maggie in her dress?" "Yeah, she looked amazing," Chris said, finally put his arms down. The woman knelt down at his feet, pinning the hem of his pants. "She's at her hair appointment now, it's really too complicated being a girl." Jake smiled, "I've never seen you in a tux before." "You won't after the show," Chris said, "it's not something I like to do." "Stop moving," the woman said, her voice stern. Chris froze, barely able to hold in a laugh, "Sorry." Jake was glad he had a tuxedo he wore all the time, fittings were literally a pain, all the pins, tucking, and scooting too much trouble for something people saw for a split second. Sitting down, especially if you weren't in the front row, nobody saw anything but shoulders and face. "You look good," Jake said, finishing off his coffee, "Maggie hooked you up." "Otherwise I'd look like you?" Chris joked, "I don't do off-the-rack." "You're going to have to find someone else to tie your bow-tie for you that night," Jake said. "Stop moving," they heard again. This time, Chris stood still, wishing he had the entire time now that he felt the pin in his ankle. He shut up, biting his lip as the woman finished, patting him on the calf and telling him to get dressed. Jake waited as Chris got dressed, picking up the Prada bag with Chris' new shoes in it. Even this was better than interviews; at least he got fresh air and stimulating conversation. "They're putting a copy of my book in the presenters' bags," Chris said through the dressing room door. Jake raised an eyebrow, "They asked you?" "No, they just said they would," Chris said, swinging the door open. Jeans and hoodie in Prada, Chris looked as out of place as Jake did, "I think it'll be ready tomorrow. She said something in Italian. Or Greek, I couldn't tell." "Put your shades on," Jake said, "there were a couple following me." Chris wasn't used to it, but Jake was. He pretended like they weren't there, knew exactly who to ask about back exits and how long to wave for them to be satisfied and not pissed off. At first, they didn't pictures of Chris, he was sure, but when he walked out of a cafe one morning and there were a couple of them there, flashing their cameras as they walked backwards. Chris wondered if there was a sort of paparazzi boot camp, retreating back into the coffee shop. He didn't know what to do, they probably expected Jake to be there too, or Topher, but he was alone and just wanted a cup of coffee. "Ready?" Chris nodded and followed Jake out, ignoring the photographers and sticking his free hand in his pocket. Jake's strides were determined, his dark shades hiding his irritation. Chris walked right beside him, his shoes swinging at his side. He heard Jake sigh, reaching for his phone to call Maggie. He didn't miss having a car; he missed not being able to get away. *** Chris' favorite thing about Maggie's house was that it was a short walk to the Starbuck's and that it was tucked away so that photographers couldn't find it. Jake's thumb ran circles on his waist as his lips pressed against Chris', the sun beaming down on their shoulders. Chris' hand rested on the back of Jake's neck, his body tingling with the sensation of the heat from above and from Jake's body. "Get back in here guys," Maggie said through the screen door. Jake moved so that his back was to his sister, ignoring her. Chris giggled when they broke apart, moving his lips to Jake's neck. "Is she watching us?" Chris asked, not bothering to look. "I hope not," Jake said, smiling, "she should be getting ready." "And we shouldn't?" Chris asked, feeling Jake's hand on his back. "We've got a few hours," Jake said, kissing him again. Chris braced himself against the railing of the balcony, Jake stepping closer to him as he deepened the kiss. "She's got a lot to do." Chris ran his hand down Jake's chest, feeling Jake's quickening heartbeat. "I'm all bout some pre-Oscar lovin', but I've got hair people coming over, I've got jewelry people, dress people. You guys make it quick or you'll have an audience." Maggie watched as Jake pulled away from Chris, both of them breathing heavily, their faces flushed. "You're insatiable," she said, "don't think I don't know what goes on at night." Chris blushed a deep red, Jake pulling him into a hug. "You ready?" "You can be ready for something like this?" Jake pressed his nose into Chris' hair, the dark locks warm from the sunshine. "We're going to have a good time tonight, me and you." "I have my tux, I have you, and as long as there's champagne, I'll be good." Jake smiled and pressed their lips together one more time. "Shave or no," Jake said, feeling Chris' hands on his jaw. "No," Chris said, "leave it." Both of them heard the door open, an entire throng of people coming in. Jake leaned back against the railing, both of them watching as Maggie giggled and smiled, reveling in the utter girlishness of it all. She'd been around nobody but them and her boyfriend Peter the entire time, Chris was surprised she managed to set this all up. "When is the car coming to pick us up?" "Four," Jake said, watching people running their hands through Maggie's hair and holding up necklaces and earrings, Maggie wide-eyed the whole time. "Maybe one of them can help us tie our bow ties." *** "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jake said, throwing the door open. Chris shuffled out of the car too, looking around the press box for Vivian. He and Jake were being pushed onto the carpet, even though they were running late already. "No, sorry, but we're going to get in trouble if we don't get our asses in there." Chris pulled his jacket straight before he and Jake practically sprinted into the auditorium, leaving fans and reporters with more questions than answers. Breathing hard, he and Jake checked in with the Oscar people. Rehearsal had slipped Jake's mind, being distracted by Chris' lips on his neck after Maggie's entourage had left. Chris shook hands, people he didn't even know, people he'd never heard of, as Jake apologized and they were told to get back to the head of the red carpet. "They're not going to want to talk to us," Chris said, "I think we ran past Halle Berry and Julia Roberts. How do I compete with that?" "They caught you on camera running in, it can't get any worse," Vivian said over his shoulder, "where were you?" "We ran late," Chris said, "bow-tie problems." It sounded plausible and definitely a better excuse than losing tack of time while making out. Maggie had the sense to leave with Peter, trusting that Jake would get there on time. She thought wrong. "You guys either go or skip it, it's up to you," she said. Jake pulled him out, "Is there a back way or do we have to go against the crowd?" "Sneak though the media area," Vivian said, "it'll take you halfway up." Jake nodded, grabbing Chris by the arm. Sliding past the media as Vivian followed them, Jake and Chris hopping over a hedge to get to the carpet. They were both flustered and tense. It was bad enough they were late, but Jake had to present something he'd only practiced once before. Instantly, the sounds of screaming photographers and the flash of cameras filled their ears and eyes, Vivian the only sane one with her sunglasses on. Jake waved up to the fans, Chris following suit. Smiling, they both posed for a minute or so before Vivian pushed them both down the carpet. "Jake, what were you doing last year during the Oscars?" a reporter asked. Chris didn't know if she was from MTV or ABC or what. Everything seemed chaotic. "I presented last year," Jake said, "but it's a whole different feeling this year being nominated." "And your date tonight?" Jake chuckled, "It's boys night tonight," he said, pulling Chris into frame, "wish us luck." "Christopher Lewis!" she said, gasping, "how does it feel to have your work up for an award?" "It's great," Chris said, smiling. His hands were in his pockets, but he leaned into the microphone, "It's like I lived through the writing process twice, it feels good to get some recognition." "Who are you rooting for tonight?" she asked. "Jake, of course," Chris said, "and Topher. It's just exciting to be here, but if one of us won, it'd just be unbelievable." "And after?" "It depends if we win or not, doesn't it?" Chris said, laughing. "Thanks to you both for talking to us, good luck tonight," she said, "but before you go, they all want to know who you're wearing." "They ask that to guys?" Jake joked, "my big sis hooked us both up with some Prada, so we should say thanks to her for that." Chris smiled as the cameraman counted down with his fingers. When he got down to zero, Chris and Jake moved down the carpet. They looked like they didn't spend any time getting ready, Jake was still unshaven and Chris' hair looked neater than normal, but still messy. They were both surprised how long it took them to make it look like they hadn't spent any time getting ready at all. "Just maybe one or two more," Vivian said, "the show's going to start soon." "Jake! Jake!" they heard. The two of the walked down to the next set of cameras and Jake shook his hand, "Thanks for stopping to talk with E! Entertainment. We're just going to get down to the important questions. If you don't win, who are you going to beat up?" Jake chuckled, "No, it's really an honor to be nominated no matter what they say. I'm crossing my fingers for Chris, though. If he loses, I'll have to beat someone down." "And you're presenting tonight, can't keep you away from being the center of attention, can we? What are you presenting?" "I actually don't remember," Jake said, chuckling, "it's been that crazy." "And Mr. Lewis, how is Hollywood treating you? Is it hard being the night's golden boy?" "It's a trip, that's for sure," Chris said, Jake patting him on the shoulder, "it's all for tonight though, right? After this and the parties, it's back to life as usual?" "That's the way to look at it. Enjoy it while you can. Good luck out there." Vivian pushed them past the rest of the press, Chris not even having a chance to see who he was running past. He wondered when Topher got there and whether or not they'd be sitting together. He wasn't actually going to be sitting in his seat, taking Jake's plus-one seat instead. Once inside, Chris couldn't stop from staring. Red velvet, gold statues, everything was lush and opulent, stars everywhere saying hello and shaking hands just like normal people. Jake let out a deep sigh and grabbed his hand, "We made it." Chris looked up at him; both of them still letting it all sink in. Chris saw Natalie and waved, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him. He looked for Topher, but Jake pulled him down the aisle to their chairs as the lights dimmed. Third row? Aisle seats? Chris had no idea they'd be front and center. He sat down on his hands to keep them from shaking, still trying to find some familiar faces. Maggie was right behind them, her hand resting on his shoulder as she leaned in, "Good luck tonight, guys. I'm rooting for my boys." "Here we go," Chris said, the lights on the stage dimming and a quiet sweeping over the audience. Chris could feel Jake's pulse racing through his body through his hand. Jake leaned over, "No matter what happens tonight, I've never been prouder of you, Chris. I love you." *** Chris held his breath, Topher smiling into the camera, his glowing smile on the big screen behind Selma Blair, who was presenting his award. When she didn't say his name, Chris sighed, looking over his shoulder to find him. "I'm sorry," he mouthed to Topher, who he was surprised to find just a few rows behind him. Topher nodded, giving him a smile. He was relieved, not having to wait until the end of the night like Jake and Chris. He could sit back now, sip his champagne and enjoy the rest of the show. The next two hours seemed like a blur, Chris almost falling asleep again and again, Jake's clutching hand on his own the only thing keeping him conscious. He wished that someone would slip or fall into the orchestra pit, anything to break up the monotony of awards and montages of old movies. Every time he looked at Jake, his eyes intense and his jaw tight. An usher ran down the aisle and tapped him on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear. Chris leaned over but still couldn't make anything out. "Thanks," he heard Jake say. "One more award and I'm almost up to present. Wish me luck." Chris nodded, feeling Jake's hand let his go for the first time all night. He was definitely going to fall asleep without Jake there to keep him up. When he heard that they were announcing Best Actor, Jake's hand reached for his again. Chris watched as Natalie walked onto the stage, her gown sparkling with each step she took. "With every role, actors take on a different persona. Be they heroes or villains, every time we see them on stage, we either hate or love them. This year was no different, only the lines got a little blurry. We loved and we hated, but sometimes, we didn't know what to think. From grieving sons to honest CEOs, the roles represented by this year's nominees show that there isn't ever a clear idea about a role, we just sit back and go along for the ride." Jake clutched Chris' hand, his knuckles white as Natalie stood on stage reading off the nominees. He didn't hear anything she said, he was so anxious. They'd sat through the entire ceremony together, hating that the awards they were nominated for were at the end of the show. Chris looked around, wondering why he was there at all, surrounded by gowns, jewelry, and the excitement of the whole awards experience, forgetting that he was even nominated. He slipped his hand out from under Jake's hand when his name was called and clapped, "Jake Gyllenhaal for the Lazarus Effect," Jake smiling for the camera as his face showed up on the huge screen behind Natalie. He looked calm and collected, a stark contrast to how he'd been just a second ago. The crowd silenced as Natalie's delicate fingers opened the envelope, "And the Oscar goes to...this is so exciting" she giggled, bringing a smile to Chris' face, "oh God, Jake Gyllenhaal for the Lazarus Effect." Jake's eyes bulged as he stood up, grabbing Chris' hand between his own, "Can you believe it?" He said, practically yelling over the applause. Chris clapped as loud as he could, watching as Jake jumped up on stage, bounding over the steps and practically smothering Natalie with a hug. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh," Jake said, his voice shaky at the microphone, "this is incredible. Who would have thought our little movie would amount to this? Who could have guessed?" Chris watched Jake, his confidence showing through all the nervousness and surprise. "This has to go to everyone that worked on the movie with me, I actually still can't believe it's me up here. I have to thank my parents and my sister Maggie, David Fincher for being the perfectionist he is. Without him, I'd just have been wandering around New York crying. Thanks to the entire crew and to all the other nominees that I stole this from. But more than anyone else, this goes to Chris, because without you, I'm nothing," he said, taking a deep breath, "Thank you!" Chris watched as he and Natalie walked off stage, looking around to see if anyone knew who exactly "Chris" was, but everyone was whispering to the person next to them, nobody paying him any attention. He wondered when Jake would be coming back, leaning back to ask Vivian. "He's presenting the next award," she whispered, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. She never thought she'd be at the Academy Awards as an author's agent, but here she was, sitting a few rows behind George Clooney, a few seats down from Jodie Foster. It was more than she'd ever dreamed. Clapping as Jake came out, Chris had no idea what he'd be announcing. He just watched and saw how handsome and composed he looked as he walked out, but Chris could tell he was still a little shaken from his own win, the smile on his face spreading from ear to ear, his hands trembling slightly as he clutched at the envelope. Maggie leaned over the empty seat, "Good luck," she whispered, grabbing his shoulder. She'd been telling him all night, but this time, he realized it was because the next award would be his. "Storytelling lies at the heart of movies. Without stories, movies would be meaningless images without aim. So we as actors are at the mercy of writers, artists who work with words to create pictures with meaning and heart. Adapting from a classic work of literature or a contemporary masterpiece, each writer creates a world for us to inhabit, a place we go to escape. When we go, we don't know what we'll find there, but we go anyway." Chris sat in his seat, shaking as he watched Jake announce the nominees for best adapted screenplay, wishing that Jake was there sitting next to him, not talking up on stage. Chris's hands shook even though he was sure he wasn't going to win, just counting the minutes until Jake would be back down with him and he could run his hands over Jake's Oscar and feel it in his hands. He didn't even hear the rest of Jake's monologue or the other nominees, his head somewhere else, just clutching onto Maggie's hand. Jake took a deep breath before opening the envelope, hoping against hope that he'd be able to say Chris' name. He tore open the envelope, reading the name and looking right at Chris in the audience. "And the Oscar goes to Christopher Lewis for Independence Day," Jake said, not believing the words coming out of his own mouth. He saw Chris in the audience, frozen as the cameras flew right into his face, Vivian pushing him from behind to get up on stage. He hadn't even been paying attention to what Jake was saying, but an eruption of applause swept through the auditorium and the lights shone right on him Chris' legs felt like jelly. He could barely stand up, and after he managed to button his jacket, he was scared he'd trip with every step he took. Jake was up there on stage, clapping for him as he slowly took the steps. The applause echoed in his ear; reminding him that it wasn't a dream, but that he really was getting an award for his first foray into the crazy world of Hollywood, and not just any award, it was an Academy Award. Taking the award from the girl's hand, he hugged Jake, whispering an "I love you," in his ear, wanting to kiss him more than anything. Jake couldn't believe it either, almost screaming when he opened the envelope and saw Chris' name. Chris turned around, steadying himself on the podium. It was surreal, staring out into the audience and seeing Steven Spielberg, Steven Soderbergh, Charlize Theron, Reese Witherspoon, he couldn't see them all and saw all of them at once; it was bizarre. "Wow, this is really scary," Chris started, he could feel his voice shaking. The award was surprisingly heavy in hands, his palms so slippery with sweat that he was scared that it would slip right out and crash through the glass floor. "It's really scary to be up here in front of all of you, not even knowing why I'm holding this guy in my hands," he looked down at the statue: shiny gold, hefty and solid. "I want to thank everyone involved in this movie, from the interns to Steven, for helping me because it was my first time around, and thanks to Steven Soderbergh for taking on this project from a kid who didn't know anything but this story, and thanks to my family for inspiring this entire book and this story. I can't thank them enough." Chris looked over his shoulder at Jake, tears in the corners of both their eyes, "And more than anything, I have to thank the most important person to me, I love you more than anything. This is more than I deserve, I've gotten more than any one person ever deserves, but thank you, thank you so much to everyone." The applause roared again and he stepped back, feeling Jake grab his hand as the lights dimmed. As soon as they got out of sight, Chris pulled Jake down, their lips crashing together, hungry and ravenous, their entire bodies tingling with a mixture of disbelief and excitement. Vivian watched the corridor, she couldn't be happier for both of them. If Chris could do this, he could do anything. If this didn't give him that boost of confidence he needed, nothing would. Vivian ushered the two of them into the pressroom, the reporters surprised to see both of them at once, "More questions?" Chris asked. "Last time around for a while," Vivian said, "you'll miss it one day." Chris followed Jake, cameras flashing as they held their awards. He was nervous, but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Jake looked back at him, blue eyes glistening in the light. Chris had never seen him so happy, so excited. It meant a lot to win, but winning with Jake made it that much more special. He could feel his entire body pulse with adrenaline, his hands shaking. He could do it one last time. Jake by his side, both of them clutching their awards, he felt like anything was possible. Jake looked over at Chris, smiling as he listened to the composed answers, the genuine gratitude, and the unfiltered emotions flowing out of him. Chris was always eloquent, even when he was nervous, but here he was unable to tell anyone how grateful he was, how much he didn't expect to win, how strange it all really was. Chris smiled at him and he had to look away, it was hard to not kiss him, hard to resist hugging him. There were other winners, and Jake figured they all felt this way, but to him, the night was all about he and Chris. Nothing else mattered, they'd put their blood and tears into their work and this only proved that it wasn't for nothing, what they did meant something. Jake didn't care anymore though, throwing an arm around Chris. Hollywood is about making dreams into reality and tonight, they were both living it. --- Feedback? christopherrluu@gmail.com