Just Like Heaven

by T L Bradford

  We finish the scene, but I feel off-kilter after our encounter. What is even worse is the second Marty yells cut, Noah’s wall of indifference went instantly back up. The heat is gone from his eyes, and I am left feeling cold.

  A little while later, I head back to the dressing room, and Noah is already there. He is actively ignoring me as he has been these past few weeks. This is a crazy situation, and I am about done with playing these petty games with him, so I decide to break the ice.

  “Pretty good shoot today. I think I prefer doing the outside scenes,” I say, as I walk over to my side and grab water out of the mini-fridge.

  He grunts a “Yeah,” without turning around. As I walk by him, I can see he is reading the script for our next shoot already.

  “Getting a head start? I haven’t had a chance to take a look at it yet.” He doesn’t say anything.

  “Mr. Prepared.” I’m getting annoyed at his lack of response. Then I goad him a little further, “I bet you were one of those guys who studied on a Friday night before the big test just to get ahead, huh?”

  “Something like that.” At least I know he’s alive. I push him even further.

  “You know if you put as much effort into developing basic social skills as you do having read the scripts, you’d be up for an Oscar.” I’m poking the bear today.

  “Maybe some of us are professionals and know how to do our jobs,” he replies curtly.

  I shoot him a seething stare then proceed to change out of our set clothes bringing the jersey over my head. He moves on the couch, bringing his script up closer to his face. Wait, a second. Is he blushing? Could he be that much of a prude? To test the theory, I move a little closer to his line of sight. From there, I change out of my pants and in my boxers, walk across the room unnecessarily to grab my shoes, then back again.

  He doesn’t raise his head, yet he is still looking at the exact same page of the script as when I walked in. I grab my T-shirt and slowly pull it over my head, making sure to overextend my arms. Then I lean down to put on my pants and shoes. As I am tying the laces; I can see Noah’s reflection in the mirror. He does not know I can see the expression of his face from this direction. I see him looking at me from the corner of his eye when he thinks I am not looking. Oh shit! Is he checking me out? I look up directly at him now, and he immediately turns away.

  Well, look here. I think I’ve just found a new game. And I am ready to play.

  Chapter 10

  Noah

  He’s taking what seems like forever to grab his stuff and leave. I need him to leave right now. I continue concentrating on the script that is just sitting across my lap. Eventually, he gives up and leaves. As soon as he does, I let out a huge breath and relax. I toss the script to the side and focus on something else, anything else to get what just happened out of my mind.

  Push those feelings down. I hear those words in the back of my head. I need a distraction because when I look down, I see the effect he had on me. Push them down. I will not let this happen. Before I can fully recover, I hear a knock at the door. It’s Steph and Genie. I quickly grab the script again and place it over my lap; then I tell them to come in.

  “You guys were phenomenal today!” This comes from Genie. She is in her usual Stevie Nicks inspired hippy dress. “Oh my god, our viewers are going to eat this up.” She is giddy and grinning from ear to ear.

  Then Steph speaks up. “I knew we struck gold with you guys. This is going to bring a whole new audience to the show.”

  “You think so? Have we gotten any push back yet?”

  “We’ve done a few small test groups, and so far, the feedback has been better than we ever expected. You guys are doing a great job.” Okay, no pressure there.

  They finish up their conversation, excited about the new direction of the show. I’m still on the fence about it all, but hoping it works out, nonetheless. Once they leave, I feel more like myself. I get my things and go home.

  I stop off at Whole Foods and get something quick to go. I am identified by a couple who know me from the show. I oblige them with a selfie and go on my way. As they walk away, I wonder how much longer that type of attention will last?

  I can see some people hating the new direction of the character, and I start to panic right there in the middle of Whole Foods. My head starts to swim, and I feel like the ground is slipping beneath my feet. Having been through these before, I grab my left wrist and hold my thumb against my pulse point. I close my eyes and count off 1-2-3-4, getting better, 5-6, almost there, 7-8-9, I got this, 10. I open my eyes and take my thumb off my pulse.

  The fear of negative attention on my character brings back old memories. But I realize I am mixing my real life with this fake one. The lines blurred there for a second, but I come back to reality. I can trust Steph and Genie that this is going to work out okay. I make my way out of the store and into my car.

  When I get home, I feed Lola. Then, instead of eating, I decide to go for my run. I have too many things running through my head at the moment, and I need to work it out. I feel unsettled and restless. Flashbacks of Josh pulling off his jersey play in the back of my mind. Down, down, down. The feel of his leg rubbing against mine as we sat in the stands. Push it down. The way he looked at me afterward like I was the only one on the set. No. Him in his boxers as he dropped his cargo pants… Get a grip!

  I stop running and bend over to take a breather, feeling like I’m going to hurl. I grab my water bottle and drink deeply as my mouth is parched from running so hard. I wonder how I got myself into this situation. We are on the verge of something huge for our careers, and it is already tainted from our tenuous relationship. Why couldn’t this have been easier? Why was I such a class-A dick to the guy, anyway? I screwed this up from the start. I’m not sure how to fix it. Is it too late?

  Utterly exhausted, I walk back to my house, wave to Mrs. Jennings, and take a shower. I try to avoid all thoughts of Josh and refuse to touch my rather persistent lower-body problem. I kick back with another classic movie, Lawrence of Arabia. I figure I will make it through about an hour of the long movie if I am lucky before I fall asleep.

  I toss and turn and am unable to fall asleep. Josh was trying to make nice with me today, and I basically told him to shove it up his ass. Why would he even try to work with me again? Something must change soon, or this whole thing is going to implode before we even get started.

  Feeling out of sorts, I call my mom and tell her about the show before I chicken out again. She picks up on the second ring. “Hi, Sweetie,” she says cheerfully. That’s my mom for you. I will always be perpetually ten years old to her.

  “Hey, Mom, what’s going on? I’m sorry I haven’t called you in a little while. I just wanted to hear your voice.” I’m covering for my state of mind with a happy tone.

  “Is everything okay, baby? You sound like something is wrong?” How can Moms do that? Automatically detect when you are down?

  “Nah Ma, nothing is wrong, like I said, I wanted to make sure you guys are okay.”

  “We’re fine, Jacob is here with me, do you want to say hi?” I hear her yell over her shoulder to ask Jacob to come to the phone.

  “No, ma, don’t bother him!” I rush out. “Just tell him I said hello.” I’m beginning to lose my nerve. I know she watches my show religiously, so I must cowboy up and tell her.

  “Mom I just wanted to let you know… I’ve been given a promotion on the show. They are moving me into a new storyline that will feature me more.” I figured I would ease slowly into this conversation.

  “That’s great! I’m so glad to hear it. You’ve barely gotten any screen time over the past few months. You know if they would kill off that hussy Cassandra you could be the star of the show…” She starts going off the rails at this point, so I need to redirect her.

  “Thanks, Ma, I wanted to talk to you about…”

  “It’s Gracie, right! Your characters are making up, and you’re getting back together? I knew it!!!”

&nb
sp; “No Ma, it’s not that you see they added…”

  “Well, it better not be Cassandra because I would start the biggest letter-writing campaign ever to get her off of the show…”

  “Ma, it’s not Cassandra.”

  “Oh, thank god, you nearly gave me a heart attack. So, what’s your big news, baby?”

  “Well, you were partly right. Jace is getting a new love interest.”

  “Well, speak up, boy, what’s her name, then?”

  “His name is Max.” I blurt it out before I can think about it.

  There is a brief pause. “Well, good for you, sweetie, I know you’ll do great.” Nothing. No reaction from her whatsoever. Just business as usual. That’s my mom. How best to explain the firebrand that is my mother? If Sophia Petrillo from The Golden Girls and Bette Midler had a child, that child would be Helena. She is crazy, honest, and blunt as all get out.

  “So, you don’t have any problem with that?”

  “Oh, Sweetie, what the hell do I care at this age. Besides, isn’t everyone a little bit gay now, anyway?”

  “What the… You know what, never mind. Do you think Tobias is going to lose his shit if he finds out?”

  “Probably, but who gives a flying fuck what he thinks, anyway. My baby is back in business!” I hear some mumbling on her side of the line. “Jacob! Jacob get in here. Guess what! Noah is going to be gay!”

  “Mom! Mom! You need to clarify! Jace is gay, not me!” I shout into the phone. I hear a confused Jacob somewhere in the background. Oh, great this has all gone tits up.

  She gets back on the line after a minute. “So…when is this happening and tell me about your new fella.”

  I roll my eyes giving up and say with an exasperated sigh, “The first episode with Max airs tomorrow. I wanted to let you know so that you wouldn’t be surprised.”

  There is another pause, this time longer. “Well, you can bet I will be in front of my TV tomorrow to watch. Ooh! I’ll get the girls from my pottery club to come over, and we’ll make it a thing. They still say making things a thing, right?”

  “Yes, Ma, and you don’t have to do—”

  “Oh, hush up. I’m your mother. I can do as I please. Jacob isn’t that right?” A muted reply from Jacob can be heard in the back.

  “See? He agrees.”

  “Great.”

  “So, is he cute?”

  “Ma!”

  “What? It’s a valid question. He must be if they coupled him with you. You are the most handsome boy…”

  “You know what? I gotta go now.” I’m totally over this call.

  “Wait. You didn’t answer the question.”

  “Goodnight, mom.”

  Chapter 11

  Josh

  Today is the day my first episode airs. I get up a little early since I was unable to sleep well last night on the couch. I have a pretty busy day. I have an appointment later this afternoon to view an apartment. The housing market is very tight in LA, and it is hard to find a reasonably priced place. I’m trying to find something closer to where I work since my piece of crap car is about to give out any day now. Sam has been great about letting me stay, but she was offered a part a couple of weeks ago on a show and will be leaving for the east coast to shoot. I don’t qualify for her apartment because of my credit issues, leaving me up shit’s creek.

  I come in a little earlier than usual. Noah is already there and, as usual, is concentrated on reading his script. I’ve got to hand it to him. He has a level of dedication to his craft that I cannot fault. He doesn’t hear me enter though, and the sounds of him working through the page give me pause. He is reciting out loud the words but seems to be struggling over what I perceive is simple language. He flails more and begins to stutter. He is frustrated and puts the script down on the table. He then runs his hands through his short dark hair and then down his face. He steeples his hands under his chin for a moment, then shakes his head, grabs the script again and begins anew.

  I come into the room further trying not to make a sound, but of course that never works and I make a clatter as I bump into the wall stand, knocking over one of his many knickknacks. He turns around quickly. He sees me and starts to turn red. I’m not sure if it is from fury over my spying on him or the embarrassment of me seeing him struggle with the script.

  I attempt to bail myself out by speaking first. “Hey, man. Sorry about the noise. I was trying to be quiet.”

  “How long have you been standing there?”

  “I just got here.” He must not believe me because his face is pure anger now.

  “So, what, now you’re spying on me?”

  “I… I wasn’t spying, I just came in, I had no idea…” I stumble over my words.

  “I knew this would happen.” I have no idea if he is saying this to himself or me.

  He grabs up his script and stalks across the room. He is glaring at me as he goes by. Tired of his attitude, I decide it is finally time that we had it out. As he walks by hitting my shoulder in the process and nearly knocking me over, I turn around, grab his arm, and address him directly. “What the hell is your issue, anyway?” My hand on his arm forces him to turn full around.

  “Get your hand off me!”

  I drop my hand and ask him again, “You have a problem with me? Well, man up and say what the fuck is on your mind because I’m tired of your attitude and taking your shit!” I scream out. I’m sure we can be heard down the hall.

  His eyes that once looked at me with such fondness during our scenes are now silver-green daggers pointed right at my face. “You stroll on in here with your swagger and your looks acting like Mr. Charisma. Five freakin’ minutes and you have everyone here eating out of your hand and walking right into a featured part on the show. You come up in my space, acting like you own the damn place and that we should all bow down.”

  His voice starts to rise, and he starts losing control. “You strut around like a king all day getting everything you want. You probably never had to fight for a single thing in your whole moronic life. It’s so easy for you isn’t it, jock boy? Is that right? I bet it is. Mr. All-American poster boy. The football god who got more pussy than he could handle. Then, taking a dump on anyone else who didn’t fit the bill. Everything falls into place for Joshua Hill.” He is starting to go off on a tangent now, and all I can do is stand and listen to his crazy rant.

  He continues, “I don’t have to justify myself to you! I don’t have to justify myself for anyone here! I know who I am! I know what I’m worth! You know what, this, all of this—” he gestures around the room then points between us, “—was a bad idea from the start.”

  He moves around the room now, pacing. “Why couldn’t you leave me alone? Why did you have to come here and screw everything up and mess with my head! My life was fine; it was ordered! I was in control! And now that control has been taken away from me and my future rests with you. You! Ain’t that some shit? Some fresh-faced Hollywood trash that is the new flavor of the month holds my future in his hands.” He’s not making any sense now, and I can see he is starting to shut down and turn away, but I’m not letting this go so quickly.

  I am blazing with heat now and ready for a fight. “Look who’s talking!?! Are you kidding me trust fund boy! Oh, yeah, I know your history too! The poor little rich boy, who whines when someone else catches a break? You, selfish little prick!

  “What’s the matter? Daddy didn’t get you the new jag you wanted for Christmas? If this isn’t the pot calling the kettle black, then I don’t know what is! Because if you took the time to learn anything about me besides what you find in some Wikipedia entry you would know that I earned every goddamn minute of screen time I’ve gotten on this show. If you could be a human being for one single moment, you would know that the world does not rotate around you Noah, this is not your planet that we all get to live on.

  “If you talked to me, I could have told you that I had to take this role, not because I wanted to, but because I was one day away from livin
g on the streets! But you never knew that because you can’t even be bothered to open your mouth and say a single civil word to me. So, tell me, Noah! What exactly in the hell I did that was so bad that you are willing to go and trash both of our careers!”

  He yells out, “Because you fit!”

  “I fit? What do you mean? I don’t understand?”

  “Me! You fit me!” He has a crazy look in his eyes now desperately looking around the room in a daze. “Do you know how humiliating that was!” He turns away from me, moving toward the window and looking out. His hands go back into his hair then he clasps his hands together and puts them behind his head as he looks out. “After all this time, they find out my perfect fit was a guy all along. What the hell am I supposed to think? I didn’t want this! And to top it off everyone loves the idea? Yeah, you know what I’m mad!” He drops his arms and spins around toward me. “I’m mad at them for putting me in this situation, I’m mad at you for being my match, and I’m mad at me for ever having gotten myself into this mess.”

  “This wasn’t my fault. You can’t blame me for this!” I yell.

  He is agitated and starting to sweat. He closes his eyes, and I see him sway. He grabs his left wrist and begins putting pressure on his pulse with his thumb. Then he is mumbling something under his breath. Is he counting? I don’t know if the guy is having a heart attack or what, but I know I need to de-escalate this situation fast.

  “Hey, Noah, are you okay? Need me to get the set medic?” I’m panicked.

  He takes a few shallow breaths and opens his eyes again. “No, don’t.” Then he drops his wrist and goes to sit down on the couch. I walk over to the mini-fridge and get him a water bottle. Then I drop to my haunches in front of him and offer the bottle. He takes it without making eye contact and swallows about half in a single sip.