Date: Thu, 16 Feb 2006 14:38:27 -0800 (PST)
From: Mark <rahvin747@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Important Things in Life

Disclaimer : I don't know Jake Gyllenhaal and this is a work of fiction. I
know thing about his private life and don't mean to suggest anything
regarding his sexuality either.

The Important Things in Life - chapter 1

We met on a plane, a transatlantic flight to be specific. It would have to
have happened there, or never happen at all. People such as us are defined
by our turbulent lives, and those we meet are shadows who are veiled by
each setting sun. For our paths to collide would require an unlikely
prerequisite - to remain stationary for a few hours. Luckily, or perhaps to
our doom, a long flight enforces this. Fate has a cruel malice which rarely
provides any room to escape.

I suppose I had a choice when I moulded my life. I could have become a
professional of some sort, perhaps a doctor or lawyer, but my life always
followed another route. In fact, I always enjoyed medicine but never
pursued it despite high grades and a penchant for the human sciences. When
I was fifteen I wrote an internet security program, which I perfected and
patented when I was sixteen. By the time I was eighteen it was a household
name, and by the time I was twenty-three I couldn't even count my fortune
anymore, suffice to say that I was immeasurably wealthy.

It meant nothing anymore. I had the best of everything, and there was
nothing metaphorical about that. At the age of 25, I lacked the one thing I
couldn't buy. Since the first time I'd encountered any sort of attraction,
I had known that I was gay. I have never fought it, but I had never
embraced it either. Like everything else in my life, I merely floated
through any potential conflict and rode the neutral tides instead. I never
used my opportunity to tell my parents, and lost it forever when they died
in a car accident four weeks after my eighteenth birthday. I wept for a
very long time but my raw wounds never healed, mainly because I had no one
to grieve with. Weeping alone, I was pulled into a depressive spiral which
took me many months to recover from.

I had never known love, except that of my parents, which obviously had
boundaries as to what it could satisfy. Lust was a base emotion which
occasionally spiked in me, and one which I used my money to satisfy
indifferently. As I said, money could buy the best cure for lust, but
couldn't secure even the most superficial love. The few boyfriends I had
over the years usually showed an interest in my fortune within a few weeks.
Even the most devious disguise used to fracture within that time.  Dating
the wealthy turned out to be a dire mistake, as they usually turned out to
be the most grotesque people inside, forever scarred by their material
possessions. It didn't take too long before I wandered through life
resigned to the fact that I might never know true love, and ironically
because I had everything.

I had just finished a business deal in London which my advisors predicted
would raise my stock by at least 7%. More millions for me. How I loathed
myself that I couldn't even find joy in that anymore. It was almost 6pm,
and the horizon glowed with an orange air as I stared out of the First
Class Lounge.

"Attention ladies and gentleman. United Airlines 364 to New York will now
be boarding."

Wasting no time, I stood and quickly swallowed the last remnants of my
coffee. Striding to the departure gates, I tried to carry my lap top with
greater ease, but after a few days of moving everywhere with the damn
thing, the strap was starting to cut into my shoulder.  The computer
followed me most places. It was my base of operations, my command centre
for running my empire... and for playing cards. Chuckling to myself, I
approached gate 14 and handed my ticket to the attractive young woman
admitting and greeting all the passengers. Her look remained on me for a
moment, but I merely smiled and let my gaze drop as I walked through the
check-in area. I was never one for open flirting, but in her case it would
be woefully misdirected anyway. I was good looking which sometimes helped
in business deals, twisted as that may sound. The woman had settled on my
eyes which were light blue, but potent. My ash blond hair used to
complement them especially when my fringe brushed my eyebrows. Women also
liked height, and I managed to touch six foot one, with a natural but toned
build. I didn't want a woman though. I wanted a man. A man! I snorted,
disgusted at my small rant, and walked on.

Handing my coat to the stewardess in the first class cabin, I reciprocated
her warm greeting, practiced as it was. Although my money had changed me
for the worst, it hadn't made me a mean person, just a lonely one. Another
hostess stowed my hand luggage but I kept my laptop next to me, casually
hiding it from her notice. It was her job to secure the cabin, but I didn't
feel like interrupting the passenger next to me to get hold of it again in
the middle of the flight.

I sat down in the extravagant grey seat and sighed. I looked out the
window, and watched the small luggage cars scampering around loading the
colossal aircraft. Flying was something which I had enjoyed as a child, and
despite countless transatlantic flights, I still managed to find some
immature delight every time the plane took off. The rush of the engines was
exhilarating. I sat there staring through the window, and then shifted my
focus to catch my reflection in the window. Where would my life take me?
Was I honestly cursed to live in an architectural wonder, my lonely
footsteps echoing on the priceless marble? I sighed again, and watched
curiously as the window fogged. I turned to survey the first class cabin
and was astounded to find that the seat next to me was occupied by a man. I
must have been deeply engrossed in my own thoughts to not hear the guy
approach, pack his belongings and sit.

He seemed to be of a similar age and height to me, and he wore clothes of
dark shades.  His dark sunglasses hid his eyes and he wore a blue cap which
disguised his features further. He seemed to have dressed casually and
stylishly, but his attire hinted at precision. He had a sexy jaw line, and
some nice stubble lining it. He seemed to be staring straight ahead, or
sleeping. It was impossible to tell with those ridiculous sunglasses in a
darkened cabin. It marked him as a celebrity, but I made no move to greet
him. That was one of the first lessons I had learned in First Class : don't
talk to the bastard next to you, especially celebrities who were usually
fucking pricks. Who did they think they were anyway? If they wanted to
compare finances, then let the pissing contest begin. Ok, that wasn't fair,
and I knew it. I wasn't as well-known as them, and it was natural for them
to hide their appearance. All this guy needed next to him was a fifteen
year old girl who recognised him in some capacity and the hours of torment
would begin.  Quite understandable, but still ... strange.

The aircraft lurched slightly and I felt us start our taxi to the runway.

"Ladies and gentleman, welcome to United Airlines flight 364 to New
York. We expect a bit of light turbulence on the way out of England, but a
very smooth flight thereafter. If there is anything we can do to make your
flight more comfortable, please inform the cabin crew. Cabin crew to take
off positions."

I settled myself into my seat and folded my hands across my stomach. The
guy next to me might as well have been a pillar of salt for all the
movement he was making, but he seemed to give off anxious vibes. Call it
instinct, but there was something laboured in his demeanour. I would offer
to help, but I was in no mood for an insulting rebuttal if I was
wrong. "Fuck off" would certainly taint the rest of the flight. The plane
taxied to the runway; the sun had almost disappeared beneath the
horizon. The vibrations in the plane increased and suddenly they increased
to a roar. Flying down the run way, we took off and by the time we levelled
off, I had to wipe the gleeful smirk off my face. Casually glancing to my
side, my eyes widened as I saw the guy next to me gripping the armrests
tightly, small droplets of sweat beading on his forehead. If I didn't
intercede now then I was officially a prick.

"Chill out man. We're at our cruise altitude already. You know, the clouds
are made of water, right? So when we hit a rough area, think of it as a
boat riding over a wave. You don't freak out when that happens, do you?"

I finished with a small smile, but he continued staring straight ahead and
nodded twice quickly. That could have meant anything, even success. A small
bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and disappeared behind his
glasses. Ok, maybe not success. I could see his chest heaving with every
breath. Holy shit. I was sitting next to a guy who was about to lose it and
wreak havoc on the plane. Turning to the right, I stared out of the open
window and watched the darkening clouds rush past the plane. I could see
the ocean approaching, and tried to replace my increasing anxiety with
scenes of natural beauty.  What a bout of fucking bad luck to be caught on
a plane with a psycho. Leaning my head against the window I stared at the
shrinking ground, the lights of small towns burning in the early
evening. It was hypnotic, and beautiful. I didn't resist the weights
pulling my eyelids down, and the black exterior clouded my vision as sleep
overcame me.

"Hey."

... I was warm and comfortable. I knew I was sleeping on the plane, and I
could feel the vibrations propagating from the engines slowly beating
through me.

"Hey man. Wake up!"

My eyes flew open and I saw the back of the seat in front of me. Jerking my
head up, I felt the right side of my forehead peel free from the window
which I had used as a cushion. I had a blanket over me, and the cabin was
dark. I was genuinely afraid to look to my left, but I couldn't resist it
either. Slowly craning my neck I saw the guy next to me staring at me
curiously, his piercing gaze fixed on me. He'd removed his shades, and he
seemed to be calm and... amused. The corner of his mouth curled into a half
smile, but I guessed that it could be ravaging if it spread across the rest
of his face. God he was hot.  Jake Gyllenhaal, an actor. I sighed. The gods
were pissing on my head placing me next to such a perfect male specimen.

"Did you say something?" I said. My voice cracked as I said it suggesting
that I hadn't used it for some time. Impossible - I had only slept for a
few minutes, or perhaps half an hour at the most.

"I sure did," he said, his smile threatening to spread further. I felt a
rush surge in my chest. "You've been sleeping for nearly four
hours. Against a window." He laughed openly now, and my breath caught. He
was awesome, and so good looking I had to force myself not to gasp. I used
my confused look to indulge myself and absorb his face into my mind. Those
great blue eyes were almost surreal, and his jet black hair was sexy in
itself. It was still that smile though. It was boyish but so
fucking... amazing. Even his nose was sexy. Definitely a prank by the
higher powers I thought, rolling my eyes inside my head. "The stewardess
offered you food twice, but you slept through that. And after you ignored
her offer to set your seat and make you comfortable, I was worried you
might be dead."

My cloudy consciousness was slowly starting to coalesce, the bitter
pleasure that this was in fact, not a dream. "I'm probably more tired than
I thought," I replied honestly.

His eyes held on to my face for a long moment, and I started becoming
self-conscious.  Maybe there was a fly on my nose. I nearly sat up straight
when he stuck out his right hand. "I'm Jake. Thanks for trying to help me
earlier."

I grasped his hand and shook it firmly. It was warm, and I felt my heart
skip a beat as soon as our hands made contact. I had to wait a moment
before he released mine. "I figured that out when I saw you without your
disguise for the first time, notably a few moments ago. You're too famous
not to recognise immediately, unlike the rest of us plebs who are one of
many in a field of crops."

"That's deep, man," He said with a suddenly serious face, and fixed me with
an intimidating stare. I suddenly felt uncomfortable and started to sit up
straight. He couldn't hold the act and laughed out uncontrollably. "You
should see your face!" he laughed, "I thought you were going to jump me."

Don't ask me twice, I thought. "Sshhh." The call resounded from the back of
the cabin, and for the first time I realised that Jake had laughed pretty
raucously for a serene cabin full of snobs trying to sleep. I smiled widely
and started chuckling, and Jake covered his mouth, an occasional giggle
escaping around his right hand.

"You're a dick" I said, feigning anger, but my heart wasn't in it, and I
was smiling again like an idiot before long.

Jake laughed with fake malice, obviously pretending to be more evil than
his innocent eyes would allow. "So does Mr Pleb have a name?" he said
smiling, clearly exhausted despite the brief tirade.

I smiled to myself, and looked at him from the corner of my eye. "I'm
Kevin. Kevin Sanderson. I didn't mean to be rude, sorry about that." I
could feel myself blushing, and I saw Jake lick his top lip with the tip of
his tongue, surely unaware of what he had just done. He seemed mesmerised
with my face, and I started to get that uncomfortable feeling again. Was
there something wrong with me? Or him? Suddenly he looked at his feet and
coughed softly, but then he froze and turned back to me. "Sanderson? As in
the founder of Sandcastle security?" I didn't respond. "Holy shit! You're
one of the richest guys in the world! I read your profile in Newsweek last
year. I can't believe I forgot your face." That last sentence sounded odd,
especially since it seemed to be for him alone. He seemed angry at himself.

As soon as he mentioned my money, I instantly felt the walls forming around
me, an automatic self-defence mechanism. What was said next usually
determined his motives.  He shook his head slightly, as if dispelling a
captivating thought and then set those beautiful eyes on me again. "I'm
honoured to meet you, Kevin. To have created so much from nothing is a
great achievement, my friend. I'm happy for you."

I blinked. Could this guy have the potential to be a genuine friend, or god
forbid, more?  "You can claim the same, Jake" I said, but I couldn't hide
the open curiosity from my face. I had to investigate this situation
properly. If I let this opportunity escape, I might as well throw myself
out the door now, and save myself the years of regret to follow.

His faced showed doubt and incredulity. He was still so remarkable to look
at. I felt my mouth hanging open, and shut it closed quickly. How stupid I
would have looked if he had seen me. "I don't think so. They look for
certain things in actors. I have the base criteria which they look for -
you know, looks and all? You had to start from scratch when designing that
program of yours. Talent is something which defines those of us who are
remembered. I can't change my face, so I'll have to work on my talents."

Change your face? ... I thought. Change your face! Why the fuck would you
want to do that?! Maybe I should have said that, and watched his reaction,
but I refrained. The guy was hot and a philosopher. My dick clearly agreed
as it struggled to burst through my pants and tear off the roof of the
cabin itself. Luckily I had a well-placed blanked to disguise my lust. I
thought about sending a sizable donation to United just for helping me
maintain my dignity. The guy was more than perfect, in my opinion. "I've
seen most of your movies, Jake. You have some great talent, and you're
becoming a lot better as time goes on. I'd bet handsomely on you." That
last part came out all wrong.

"Would you now?" he said, that naughty look creeping on his flawless
face. I had a wild desire to lunch forward and kiss him passionately, and
tear off his clothes and fuck him again and again in full view of this
insignificant audience. It wasn't base lust, even though my hard cock
disputed that. I wanted to bond with his soul, to taste every part of this
man who had given me a quick sample of what a great guy should look like,
and talk like. He was a man of many levels, and I would do my best to
uncover them all, and shout with delight each time I found some uncharted
territory. The guy himself was surreal. He had known me for less than an
hour and he'd already managed to unlock emotions which no one else ever
had. I felt like I had been sitting on a barren beach for most of my adult
life, and for the first time I was riding a huge wave, the wind passing
through my hair for the first time.

"Why were you in London?" I said, changing the subject before I overloaded
myself and exploded all over the first class cabin.

"I went there to look at a script. It was a bit far for such a stupid
matter, but the movie had an awesome cast, and some career promise for me."

"You speak in the past tense," I said curiously. He nodded once, and his
face became serious again. "Yeah. I didn't accept it. I was required to
work with .... someone .... who I was associated with a few years ago. She
and I have issues." He looked at his fingernails, in deep thought. "No
worries. I'm sure they're catapulting scripts over the walls of your house
in an attempt to get a guy like you to accept their parts."

My response broke his troubled thoughts and he looked at me, quickly
smiling and almost revealing that boyish look which almost broke me every
time. "Yeah, I suppose you're right, Kevin. Enough about this pleb, I want
to know about the corn sitting next to me. What's your story?"

I laughed at his retort, and he smiled even wider. This was the
life. "Well, there was a sperm and an egg..."

I cut off as he softly punched me in the arm. "You asshole," he said,
"... you know what I mean." He was chuckling again, and he shook his head
twice in amusement.

"I was in London for a business trip. To seal another huge deal. I'm on my
way back to New York, where I am cursed to continue running my fucked up
empire." My face was serious, so he knew I wasn't joking.

"What do you mean fucked up? It's one of the most successful companies in
the world.  You're one of the youngest mega millionaires on the planet."

My eyes must have heated at his words because his face took on a guarded
look and he moved back. "Money," I said. "I hate the fucking money. I wish
it would all burn. I could buy a small country, but I can't even afford the
cheapest yet most unimaginably valuable thing of all." I was furious again,
and I was staring at the back of the chair in front of me.  I felt like
attacking it, even if to vent. I turned to Jake again, half expecting so
see some look of disgust or disbelief on his face. I would have deserved
it. Half the world would have killed to have a hundredth of what I have. I
was a spoiled fuck, and I wanted Jake to tell me that. At least then I
could reinforce my own self-loathing. But I was shocked to encounter a
different picture. His eyes were staring at me fixedly, and they were open
and honest. He was trying to understand my concerns, trying to help me and
be there for me.  My mouth did fall open this time and I made no attempt to
hide it. I suddenly felt like crying on his shoulder. But I never cried!
Never, unless I was pushed way past my limits.  I wasn't prepared to
entertain the possibility that he'd circumvented all my defences in one
quick stroke, and laid my bared soul on the table for scrutiny. No! I would
NOT allow it. I would not!

"I'm sorry, Jake. I didn't mean to be rude. Truly, I'm very sorry. I wish
you could believe me that I'm not usually like this, or at least, I don't
want to be. I'll understand if you don't want to speak anymore." I turned
toward the window again, and stared out at the utter darkness, a fool
trying to spot something in the black of midnight. I pulled the blanket up
over my shoulders and leaned my head on the window again. I should have
slept on my flatbed chair, but I thought if I caught one more sight of Jake
while setting myself up, I would crack.

Just as I was resigning myself to my outrageous sleeping position, I heard
Jake speak into my left ear. His voice was deep and sensual, and I could
feel his warm breath rush by my ear. "Actually, I'd do almost anything to
get to know you better." I shivered and my eyes opened wide with shock. I
heard Jake settling himself into his bed. At least one of us wasn't a
lunatic and would actually sleep on the provided bed, and not like a toy
stuck to a car window. I didn't sleep for the rest of the night, but stared
out at the impenetrable bleakness surrounding the plane. I saw nothing, at
least outside. I was examining my own heart, and the words I'd heard. Doubt
almost overwhelmed all my judgment, and I couldn't even make the most
simple rationalisations after a few hours of thought. What should I do?
What the hell was going on in my life?

The horizon showed itself eventually, and we landed shortly thereafter. I
avoided Jake's gaze as I left the plane, but I felt compelled to find him
and speak to him. I saw him slowly walking away, his clichéd disguise once
again hiding him from the general public.  I caught up to him and touched
his shoulder. He turned and smiled weakly when he saw me, probably
defending himself against what could be a romantic ballade or a physical
attack. Was I that unpredictable?

"Hey," he said, his voice uneasy but hopeful, politeness skirting on the
edges.

"Hey Jake," I said, suddenly feeling severely embarrassed for my odd
behaviour on the plane. "Listen I'm sorry for everything. You're a great
guy. Really..."

"Yeh, I know the rest, Kevin..." he interrupted roughly, "... but our
unusual lives prevent any form of human relationship. So, if you'll excuse
me.."

I interrupted aggressively. "Don't put words in my mouth, Jake."

"Maybe I don't feel like hearing them, Kevin! Is that alright with you?" he
said, anger starting to twist his features.

"It fucking isn't! I'm not trying to fob you off. I'm trying to do the
exact opposite! Can I speak now please?!" I finished hotly, but his eyes
were already open with surprise and he gaped foolishly. He nodded
twice. "Here's my number in New York, Jake. Call me please. Please! I, who
have everything as you like to say, am begging you to give me a call when
you can. Please." This was becoming difficult. I handed him the piece of
paper with my number and rushed away to my car, turning only once to see
his gaze following me, his face impassive and impossible to read.

Jake walked away to meet his entourage. He looked at the piece of paper in
disbelief.  How could he have foreseen such a marvellous outcome. He
suddenly wanted to shout with joy, shout to everyone. He saw his agent and
smiled at her widely.

"You're happy. Nice flight?" she said jovially.

Jake laughed and hugged her warmly. "You have no idea"


End of Chapter 1

Comments welcome