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hackthis_archiveSometimes, if you’re really lucky, what you’re writing will just take you over, and you can’t think of anything else. You can’t eat, you can’t sleep, you just have to write. This story is like that apparently. This feeling is why I write.
RPS/RPF
Jake Gyllenhaal/Jared Leto
Prologue
The Incredibly True Adventures of Four Stars, Two Actors In Love, and One Gay Landmark (1/4)
Jake Gyllenhaal hasn’t jerked off to completion in eleven days and twenty-three hours. This does not mean that Jake hasn’t tried, repeatedly, to get himself off; he has. And he’s failed horribly.
He’s tried porn magazines and porn videos and Internet porn. He’s tried his favorite movies and his favorite books -– but he draws the line at getting off on To Kill a Mockingbird, and Requiem for a Dream is more likely to give him nightmares than any good material.
All this lack of successful masturbation is keeping him up at night, because he’s stressed about not getting off, which is making it hard to get off -- and his agent is starting to get really pissy because he’s acting more snippy that usual. And if there’s anyway for Jake to kill a hard-on, it’s by thinking of Mia. It’s not that Jake’s agent isn’t attractive, and smart, and capable, but Mia is all pale skin and dark hair and sharp teeth, and Jake thinks she probably sacrifices babies in the after hours.
This isn’t about Mia though, it’s about Jake, who knows he’s not suffering from some physical ailment that’s made him unable to play spank the monkey. He’s not trying to drive himself crazy, either, like someone he knows did once upon a time just for some movie role. And –- and –-
Yeah, it’s that someone that’s the root of all Jake’s problems. Jared isn’t just someone, he’s Jake’s someone, and Jake can’t get off because Jared’s left him. Again. Apparently, he's tired of Jake's not being all the way out, which is past hypocritical, because it's not like Jared was a marshall at this year's Pride parade himself. After all, there are all sorts of 'outings' in the entertainment industry.
There's the outing in terms of being fired by your board of trustees, a la Michael Ovitz, and only finding out when you can't get in your office in the morning.
There's a Tom Cruise level of outing in which everyone knows you're gay, but is too afraid of upsetting the golden goose, and your cadre of cult attack dogs, to actually admit it.
There's the Harvey Fierstein level of outing, which isn't an out as much as it's redecorating the entire closet and throwing Gay Pride in your front hall.
And then there's Jake's level of coming out, which isn't a coming out as much as it's a hesitant sort of, "Do I have enough money to live on when this blows up in my face" sort of thing. Except that for Jake it’s not about the money, and it never has been, it’s just that Jake likes what he does –- he really really likes what he does -- and he doesn’t want to fuck that over.
The problem being that in his attempt not to fuck his career over, he’s pretty much fucked himself over relationship-wise –- at least that’s what Maggie and Pete have been telling him for the last, uh, four years. Ever since he met Jared Leto at the first table reading for Highway.
Yeah, Jake hasn’t been right since he met Jared, and he would call Jared and fucking complain, but they’re broken up, again, and Jared’s not returning his calls. For most people this would be a cause for serious concern -– the man they love storming out in a wake of Cocoa Puffs and ripped tee shirts -– but for Jake it’s just kind of how things are. He fucks up, Jared gets pissed off and leaves him, he apologizes and makes good, scares off the competition, and then Jared comes back.
There was that thing with Kirsten, and Jared dating every starlet in town, but it was always just a way to pass the between time -- at least it was for Jake.
Except it’s been two weeks, and Jared’s gone off to fucking Portugal for some stupid awards show, and Jake’s just left with Cocoa Puffs sticking to his kitchen floor. This is obviously why he has Atticus, because dogs will eat anything, and Atticus loves Cocoa Puffs. Right now though, Atticus is asleep on Jake’s right foot, and Jake’s slumped on his sofa watching the Sci-Fi Channel and wondering why he can’t meet a guy like Captain Apollo. Jake’s really into Battlestar Galactica. Of course, even Lee Adama can’t help with Jake’s insomnia, which is obviously why he’s awake when his agent calls.
Mia Richardson is a fiercely scary woman, and that’s what Jake loves about her. She fights for him, and with him, and when she gets an idea, it’s kind of hard for him to say no. "Sweetie, I've got the best job offer ever for you; you will die when you hear it."
"Mia, it's, like, four o'clock in the morning."
"And your point is what? I know you're up watching those Sci-Fi marathons instead of preparing for your Jarhead press, don't tell me tall tales Jacob Gyllenhaal, I know your mother."
And Jake sighs, because Mia does know his mother, and his sister, and his father, and she's not adverse to calling all three to gang up on him when she thinks he's about to do something stupid.
So, Jake sighs and turns down the volume on Battlestar Galactica, because it’s not like he’s doing anything anyway. "All right, Mia, make me an offer I can't refuse."
*
Hollywood meetings are an essential way of life for any actor. Meetings with agents and managers and directors are pretty much unavoidable, which is probably why Jake smokes, because he needs something to do with his hands which doesn’t involve grabbing someone around the neck and screaming, “Why the fuck am I awake at this ungodly hour?”
Yeah, Jake isn’t a morning person, which is obviously why he has Mia, because she’s totally a morning person and at least she’s coherent at 10am. Jake’s not necessarily on the ball, but he knows you shouldn’t meet with Ari Gold and not at least have some semblance of awareness. From what Jake’s heard about Ari, if you meet with him unaware, you might end up playing fucking Aquaman in orange sequins.
Jared’s a morning person, which tended to be a bone of contention between them, but Jake’s not with Jared anymore, so he doesn’t need to think about that.
“Jake, baby, how are things? How’s life? How’s that Brokeback bitch? I saw it at Sundance, and yeah, wow, did you really fuck Heath? That’s art right there, my man. I smell an Oscar here -- it’s either that or burned coffee –- unless Lloyd broke the fucking espresso machine again, that shit doesn’t come for free –-“
Ari Gold is the kind of agent that would scare Jake if he didn’t have Mia, but Jake’s grown up in the business so he knows that pretty much all agents are as crass and mental as Ari.
“Ari, quit with the pandering and tell him the deal.” Mia can be just as scary as the next man, so Jake feels kind of safe in the lion’s den. In Ari’s defense the conference room of The Gold Agency is really nice -– it’s definitely shiny and bright. It screams new money and success. Jake likes success. You can't be in his line of business and not want success.
“It’s not just a deal, Jake, it’s the deal of fucking deals. It’s the deal of the goddamn century –- Jesus himself would come back from the dead for this deal.“
Ari’s practically foaming at the mouth, and Jake takes another sip of his café latte and waits for the offer. “Yeah, Mia said you were looking for a spokesman for something really big.”
Ari’s wearing this really shiny, electric blue tie. It’s not a good color for him. “Not just any spokesman, baby, the spokesman for the next fucking century. We’re talking like a fucking icon. You will be the Jesus Christ of this century with this deal.”
“Ari, enough with the snow jobs, just tell him already.”
“Mia, always chomping at the bit. I like that -- did you feed her today or what?”
Jake would laugh, but pissing off Mia is never a good idea. “Mia said George Clooney wanted to work with me on a project.”
“Not just George Clooney -– Jake, two words -– Brad Pitt.”
"Wait, George Clooney and Brad Pitt want to work with me on a project?”
Jake can practically feel Mia vibrating with excitement next to him. “I told you fucking Heath Ledger would pay off, sweetie,” she says excitedly.
Jake bites down on his tongue instead of reminding her that she shit a brick when he told her that he wanted to do Brokeback Mountain. “Mia -- Ari, what’s the project. I mean who’s directing, what’s it called, where do I sign?”
Ari’s shifting in his chair, and he’s doing this thing where he’s not making eye contact which is bad bad bad. Jake’s stomach is starting to rebel over the fact that he hasn’t eaten anything substantive in three days. “Yeah, no, Jake, it’s not that kind of project. It’s something, well, it’s something pretty fucking special, at least it is to George and Brad, and you know, with the Hetero Life-Partners on board it can’t go wrong –-“
“Ari, enough with the bullshit, what’s the job?”
“Rowr, I love it when you’re rough, Mia –- we should get together after work, and play.”
“Please, after what you did to Jen over at Warner Brothers? What was that? www.ifuckexecutivesforscripts.com or something?”
“Oh, you heard about that? Yeah, pretty inspired wasn’t it? Okay, enough about the size of my dick -– George and Brad are interested in yours, Jake –- not your dick -– well, actually they are.”
Jake’s head is swimming from Ari’s spiel and his electric blue tie, which is why he has Mia, to speak for him when he’s getting snowed under with fast talk. “Ari, have you ever heard of sexual harassment?”
“Yeah, it’s what ugly people yell to get attention –- okay, enough foreplay. George and Brad have bought a gay club in Laguna Beach, and they want you to be the spokesman.”
Jake doesn’t know what to say, and if Jake doesn’t know what to say, then he can’t even imagine what’s going through Mia’s head -– her face is turning colors like Violet Beauregarde in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.
“Wait, don’t say anything yet -–“ Ari’s still going, and Jake would be impressed if he weren’t in shock. “Just listen –- they’re turning it into a Bed and Breakfast –- not a Pussy Palace, which, you know, more’s the shame. Anyway, they want someone to make them look good to the gay population -– and who better than hottest gay icon out right now? Jake, baby, you are en fuego. You could club baby seals on stage, at the Shrine, during the Emmys, and they’d still fucking love you -– so what do you say?”
“I say you’re out of your fucking mind if you think that my client is going to be your fucking poster boy for Gay Pride -–“ Mia fumes, yanking Jake to his feet, but Ari’s not even listening to her.
“Jake, just think about it. Your face, all over Sunset, shirtless. Jake Gyllenhaal stays at the Boom Boom Rooms in Laguna Beach-—“
“THE BOOM BOOM ROOMS?! ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!” Jake hasn’t heard Mia yell like this since he told her he wanted to do Brokeback Mountain. “My client is a fucking respectable actor! He’s not going to be fucking trade for your pervy clients!”
“It’s George fucking Clooney, you bitch! Don’t you dare insult him, he was making millions when you were still giving blow jobs in the mailroom!”
Jake can feel his left toe sticking out of the hole in his sock, rubbing against the rubber siding of his sneakers. He rubs his week-old stubble and looks from Mia to Ari. Mia looks like she’s going to explode, but Ari’s still talking. “Jake, baby, don’t listen to this PMSing tramp, this could be the biggest break ever. Think of the exposure!”
Mia’s still howling. “Next you’ll be wanting him to strip for Playgirl!“
“Hey, man, whatever floats your boat, but seriously think about it –- that’s all I’m saying. George and Brad are really excited about this; they've got investors, and they think you two could be a fucking blockbusting –-"
“You two who?” There’s something about the gleam in Ari’s eye that’s making Jake uneasy, and it has nothing to do with his chronic blue balls.
Ari has the gleam of the deranged with power and creativity. Ari’s acting like a man who’s making a power play, and Mia’s still spitting and hissing about the idea, but Jake isn’t on their page, because the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up.
“JARED! BABY!”
Jake hates those slow-motion stills in movies that take two weeks to actually shoot. They require actors to spend four hours in makeup, two hours in wardrobe, and then you have to sit still in front of three cameras and enough hot lights to melt a Barbie doll and pretend like you’re not moving. It’s for shit. And it never gets the effect right.
“You look fucking fantastic, baby, I’m thinking shooting Beatles totally agrees with you. Do I smell IFC awards or what?” Ari’s babbling, but it’s just white noise, because Jared’s in the conference room with Jake, and Mia, and his agent, Suzanne, who’s repped Jared since he was on My-So Called Life.
Right now, Jake is really moving in slow motion. His head, his eyes, everything in his body has slowed down until he’s not even sure his heart is beating anymore. It’s very possible that it’s just stopped altogether, because Jared’s still in Lisbon at the MTV Europe Video awards, or he’s off with that fucking tramp –- not that Jake is jealous of Lindsey Lohan, because that’s just not even possible. They’re just going to shoot a film together. That is not the point though -– the point is that Jake is not ready to see Jared. Jake hasn’t shaved in days; he knows he looks like shit, and Jared -– Jared’s cut his hair, and his eyes are just as sharp and piercing as ever. He’s wearing that vintage Nirvana shirt that Jake bought him for his birthday this year, and he looks like a million fucking bucks.
Jared looks like a real movie star, like he should’ve been fucking Heath in Montana. He looks almost flawless, and Jake has to fucking leave, right the fuck now, because Jared’s always been able to see right through him.
Jared will know that Jake's miserable without him, and Jake's pride isn't ready for that just yet.
“No way,” Jake says quietly. “No. Fucking. Way.”
Jake doesn’t know how he gets out the door; he just knows that he circumvents the entire fucking conference room table, and that he can still smell Jared’s Marlboro Reds and Dial soap.
If there are people yelling and staring and wondering what the fuck is going on, well, Jake’s a star now, he’s used to that.
*
Jake Gyllenhaal has rage issues. This isn’t something that Jake likes to talk about, because most of the time he’s pretty laid back and relaxed. A good 95% of the time, Jake is practically horizontal with lassitude, but that other 5% -- well, that’s just the sort of thing that gets him in trouble. There was that incident with his chipped tooth on Jarhead, and there was that time in college when his roommate left his wet towel on Jake’s bed. Suffice to say, Jake’s working it, but nobody’s perfect. He used to tell Jared this on a regular basis, and Jared would just roll his eyes and go back to his guitar.
Kirsten tended to just ignore him when he went on one of his rampages, or if he was really out of control, she’d send him to take Atticus for a walk. He thinks he’s covered more ground running Laurel Canyon to get rid of his rage than any other actor in town, which would be funny if it weren’t probably true.
Right now though, Jake doesn’t have rage, he just has –- well, he doesn’t have much, which is why he calls Maggie, because if anybody can tolerate him right now it’s his sister. It would be even better if Jake could see Maggie, but that’s the thing about her living in New York with Pete –- they’re in New fucking York and not L.A.
“We don’t want any,” is how Peter answers the phone, and Jake just laughs, because he doesn’t want any either.
“I’m not selling anything,” he says, steering with one hand and keeping an eye on Wilshire traffic with the other. “I’d buy, but I heard the LAPD are cracking down on marijuana.”
Pete laughs. “See, that’s why you need to move back east –- no one cares about stoners out here. We have delivery boys.”
Jake just sighs. “Yeah, yet another reason to get the hell out of dodge.”
If Pete can tell Jake’s agitated, he doesn’t say. “You want to speak to your sister?”
“Yeah, is she around?”
“You think I’d be answering the phone if she were?”
“What, you mean you’re not her receptionist? Well, damn, nobody told me.”
Pete sniggers, and Jake slams on his breaks, because the minivan in front of him has suddenly decided to turn right across two lanes of traffic. Jake hates L.A. traffic, it’s like everyone’s on crack. “You can try her cell phone; I think she’s out with Natalie or something.”
Jake taps the steering wheel with his finger and stomps down on the urge to just ram the van out the way. “Nah, never mind.”
“You want her to call you back?”
“Nah, it’s not important.”
“Right –- you called to shoot the shit. You sound like shit at any rate –- you just want someone to shoot you?”
“Hey, if it’ll put me out my misery, I’ll try anything once.”
Pete’s quiet for a minute. “You all right there, seriously? How’re things going? You gearing up for The Big Gay Movie or what?”
“I’m gearing up for something –- possibly murder. Dunno yet”
“You know that thing in the paper isn’t true, right?”
Jake sighs; he knows Pete's talking about that tramp and Jared. He needs a smoke, but talking on the phone and smoking and driving don’t tend to go together so well. When he had Jared -– fuck.
“Fuck, huh? I’d ask if you want to talk about it, but I’m not fucking Oprah.”
“George Clooney and Brad Pitt want me to be the spokesman for their new gay-friendly Bed and Breakfast.”
There’s a long pause. “Are you high?” Peter asks eventually.
Jake snorts. “I wish.”
“So, a gay mascot for Clooney and Pitt –- I’m thinking the pay is good.”
“I dunno, I didn’t ask.”
“You didn’t ask? Jake, what the fuck? I know we’re not in this for the money, principles, craft, blah blah blah -– seriously though, it’d be a hell of way to come out.”
“Yeah, well. Did I mention the part about how they want me to be a co-spokesman. With Jared.”
Peter’s quiet for so long that Jake thinks the signal might’ve broken, but then Peter starts laughing. “Well -– shit.”
Jake makes a right on Highland, to head home. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”
--On to part 2--
FYI: Jake’s sister Maggie Gyllenhaal, has been dating Peter Sarsgaard , Jake’s co-star in Jarhead, since 2003
RPS/RPF
Jake Gyllenhaal/Jared Leto
Prologue
Jake Gyllenhaal hasn’t jerked off to completion in eleven days and twenty-three hours. This does not mean that Jake hasn’t tried, repeatedly, to get himself off; he has. And he’s failed horribly.
He’s tried porn magazines and porn videos and Internet porn. He’s tried his favorite movies and his favorite books -– but he draws the line at getting off on To Kill a Mockingbird, and Requiem for a Dream is more likely to give him nightmares than any good material.
All this lack of successful masturbation is keeping him up at night, because he’s stressed about not getting off, which is making it hard to get off -- and his agent is starting to get really pissy because he’s acting more snippy that usual. And if there’s anyway for Jake to kill a hard-on, it’s by thinking of Mia. It’s not that Jake’s agent isn’t attractive, and smart, and capable, but Mia is all pale skin and dark hair and sharp teeth, and Jake thinks she probably sacrifices babies in the after hours.
This isn’t about Mia though, it’s about Jake, who knows he’s not suffering from some physical ailment that’s made him unable to play spank the monkey. He’s not trying to drive himself crazy, either, like someone he knows did once upon a time just for some movie role. And –- and –-
Yeah, it’s that someone that’s the root of all Jake’s problems. Jared isn’t just someone, he’s Jake’s someone, and Jake can’t get off because Jared’s left him. Again. Apparently, he's tired of Jake's not being all the way out, which is past hypocritical, because it's not like Jared was a marshall at this year's Pride parade himself. After all, there are all sorts of 'outings' in the entertainment industry.
There's the outing in terms of being fired by your board of trustees, a la Michael Ovitz, and only finding out when you can't get in your office in the morning.
There's a Tom Cruise level of outing in which everyone knows you're gay, but is too afraid of upsetting the golden goose, and your cadre of cult attack dogs, to actually admit it.
There's the Harvey Fierstein level of outing, which isn't an out as much as it's redecorating the entire closet and throwing Gay Pride in your front hall.
And then there's Jake's level of coming out, which isn't a coming out as much as it's a hesitant sort of, "Do I have enough money to live on when this blows up in my face" sort of thing. Except that for Jake it’s not about the money, and it never has been, it’s just that Jake likes what he does –- he really really likes what he does -- and he doesn’t want to fuck that over.
The problem being that in his attempt not to fuck his career over, he’s pretty much fucked himself over relationship-wise –- at least that’s what Maggie and Pete have been telling him for the last, uh, four years. Ever since he met Jared Leto at the first table reading for Highway.
Yeah, Jake hasn’t been right since he met Jared, and he would call Jared and fucking complain, but they’re broken up, again, and Jared’s not returning his calls. For most people this would be a cause for serious concern -– the man they love storming out in a wake of Cocoa Puffs and ripped tee shirts -– but for Jake it’s just kind of how things are. He fucks up, Jared gets pissed off and leaves him, he apologizes and makes good, scares off the competition, and then Jared comes back.
There was that thing with Kirsten, and Jared dating every starlet in town, but it was always just a way to pass the between time -- at least it was for Jake.
Except it’s been two weeks, and Jared’s gone off to fucking Portugal for some stupid awards show, and Jake’s just left with Cocoa Puffs sticking to his kitchen floor. This is obviously why he has Atticus, because dogs will eat anything, and Atticus loves Cocoa Puffs. Right now though, Atticus is asleep on Jake’s right foot, and Jake’s slumped on his sofa watching the Sci-Fi Channel and wondering why he can’t meet a guy like Captain Apollo. Jake’s really into Battlestar Galactica. Of course, even Lee Adama can’t help with Jake’s insomnia, which is obviously why he’s awake when his agent calls.
Mia Richardson is a fiercely scary woman, and that’s what Jake loves about her. She fights for him, and with him, and when she gets an idea, it’s kind of hard for him to say no. "Sweetie, I've got the best job offer ever for you; you will die when you hear it."
"Mia, it's, like, four o'clock in the morning."
"And your point is what? I know you're up watching those Sci-Fi marathons instead of preparing for your Jarhead press, don't tell me tall tales Jacob Gyllenhaal, I know your mother."
And Jake sighs, because Mia does know his mother, and his sister, and his father, and she's not adverse to calling all three to gang up on him when she thinks he's about to do something stupid.
So, Jake sighs and turns down the volume on Battlestar Galactica, because it’s not like he’s doing anything anyway. "All right, Mia, make me an offer I can't refuse."
Hollywood meetings are an essential way of life for any actor. Meetings with agents and managers and directors are pretty much unavoidable, which is probably why Jake smokes, because he needs something to do with his hands which doesn’t involve grabbing someone around the neck and screaming, “Why the fuck am I awake at this ungodly hour?”
Yeah, Jake isn’t a morning person, which is obviously why he has Mia, because she’s totally a morning person and at least she’s coherent at 10am. Jake’s not necessarily on the ball, but he knows you shouldn’t meet with Ari Gold and not at least have some semblance of awareness. From what Jake’s heard about Ari, if you meet with him unaware, you might end up playing fucking Aquaman in orange sequins.
Jared’s a morning person, which tended to be a bone of contention between them, but Jake’s not with Jared anymore, so he doesn’t need to think about that.
“Jake, baby, how are things? How’s life? How’s that Brokeback bitch? I saw it at Sundance, and yeah, wow, did you really fuck Heath? That’s art right there, my man. I smell an Oscar here -- it’s either that or burned coffee –- unless Lloyd broke the fucking espresso machine again, that shit doesn’t come for free –-“
Ari Gold is the kind of agent that would scare Jake if he didn’t have Mia, but Jake’s grown up in the business so he knows that pretty much all agents are as crass and mental as Ari.
“Ari, quit with the pandering and tell him the deal.” Mia can be just as scary as the next man, so Jake feels kind of safe in the lion’s den. In Ari’s defense the conference room of The Gold Agency is really nice -– it’s definitely shiny and bright. It screams new money and success. Jake likes success. You can't be in his line of business and not want success.
“It’s not just a deal, Jake, it’s the deal of fucking deals. It’s the deal of the goddamn century –- Jesus himself would come back from the dead for this deal.“
Ari’s practically foaming at the mouth, and Jake takes another sip of his café latte and waits for the offer. “Yeah, Mia said you were looking for a spokesman for something really big.”
Ari’s wearing this really shiny, electric blue tie. It’s not a good color for him. “Not just any spokesman, baby, the spokesman for the next fucking century. We’re talking like a fucking icon. You will be the Jesus Christ of this century with this deal.”
“Ari, enough with the snow jobs, just tell him already.”
“Mia, always chomping at the bit. I like that -- did you feed her today or what?”
Jake would laugh, but pissing off Mia is never a good idea. “Mia said George Clooney wanted to work with me on a project.”
“Not just George Clooney -– Jake, two words -– Brad Pitt.”
"Wait, George Clooney and Brad Pitt want to work with me on a project?”
Jake can practically feel Mia vibrating with excitement next to him. “I told you fucking Heath Ledger would pay off, sweetie,” she says excitedly.
Jake bites down on his tongue instead of reminding her that she shit a brick when he told her that he wanted to do Brokeback Mountain. “Mia -- Ari, what’s the project. I mean who’s directing, what’s it called, where do I sign?”
Ari’s shifting in his chair, and he’s doing this thing where he’s not making eye contact which is bad bad bad. Jake’s stomach is starting to rebel over the fact that he hasn’t eaten anything substantive in three days. “Yeah, no, Jake, it’s not that kind of project. It’s something, well, it’s something pretty fucking special, at least it is to George and Brad, and you know, with the Hetero Life-Partners on board it can’t go wrong –-“
“Ari, enough with the bullshit, what’s the job?”
“Rowr, I love it when you’re rough, Mia –- we should get together after work, and play.”
“Please, after what you did to Jen over at Warner Brothers? What was that? www.ifuckexecutivesforscripts.com or something?”
“Oh, you heard about that? Yeah, pretty inspired wasn’t it? Okay, enough about the size of my dick -– George and Brad are interested in yours, Jake –- not your dick -– well, actually they are.”
Jake’s head is swimming from Ari’s spiel and his electric blue tie, which is why he has Mia, to speak for him when he’s getting snowed under with fast talk. “Ari, have you ever heard of sexual harassment?”
“Yeah, it’s what ugly people yell to get attention –- okay, enough foreplay. George and Brad have bought a gay club in Laguna Beach, and they want you to be the spokesman.”
Jake doesn’t know what to say, and if Jake doesn’t know what to say, then he can’t even imagine what’s going through Mia’s head -– her face is turning colors like Violet Beauregarde in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.
“Wait, don’t say anything yet -–“ Ari’s still going, and Jake would be impressed if he weren’t in shock. “Just listen –- they’re turning it into a Bed and Breakfast –- not a Pussy Palace, which, you know, more’s the shame. Anyway, they want someone to make them look good to the gay population -– and who better than hottest gay icon out right now? Jake, baby, you are en fuego. You could club baby seals on stage, at the Shrine, during the Emmys, and they’d still fucking love you -– so what do you say?”
“I say you’re out of your fucking mind if you think that my client is going to be your fucking poster boy for Gay Pride -–“ Mia fumes, yanking Jake to his feet, but Ari’s not even listening to her.
“Jake, just think about it. Your face, all over Sunset, shirtless. Jake Gyllenhaal stays at the Boom Boom Rooms in Laguna Beach-—“
“THE BOOM BOOM ROOMS?! ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!” Jake hasn’t heard Mia yell like this since he told her he wanted to do Brokeback Mountain. “My client is a fucking respectable actor! He’s not going to be fucking trade for your pervy clients!”
“It’s George fucking Clooney, you bitch! Don’t you dare insult him, he was making millions when you were still giving blow jobs in the mailroom!”
Jake can feel his left toe sticking out of the hole in his sock, rubbing against the rubber siding of his sneakers. He rubs his week-old stubble and looks from Mia to Ari. Mia looks like she’s going to explode, but Ari’s still talking. “Jake, baby, don’t listen to this PMSing tramp, this could be the biggest break ever. Think of the exposure!”
Mia’s still howling. “Next you’ll be wanting him to strip for Playgirl!“
“Hey, man, whatever floats your boat, but seriously think about it –- that’s all I’m saying. George and Brad are really excited about this; they've got investors, and they think you two could be a fucking blockbusting –-"
“You two who?” There’s something about the gleam in Ari’s eye that’s making Jake uneasy, and it has nothing to do with his chronic blue balls.
Ari has the gleam of the deranged with power and creativity. Ari’s acting like a man who’s making a power play, and Mia’s still spitting and hissing about the idea, but Jake isn’t on their page, because the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up.
“JARED! BABY!”
Jake hates those slow-motion stills in movies that take two weeks to actually shoot. They require actors to spend four hours in makeup, two hours in wardrobe, and then you have to sit still in front of three cameras and enough hot lights to melt a Barbie doll and pretend like you’re not moving. It’s for shit. And it never gets the effect right.
“You look fucking fantastic, baby, I’m thinking shooting Beatles totally agrees with you. Do I smell IFC awards or what?” Ari’s babbling, but it’s just white noise, because Jared’s in the conference room with Jake, and Mia, and his agent, Suzanne, who’s repped Jared since he was on My-So Called Life.
Right now, Jake is really moving in slow motion. His head, his eyes, everything in his body has slowed down until he’s not even sure his heart is beating anymore. It’s very possible that it’s just stopped altogether, because Jared’s still in Lisbon at the MTV Europe Video awards, or he’s off with that fucking tramp –- not that Jake is jealous of Lindsey Lohan, because that’s just not even possible. They’re just going to shoot a film together. That is not the point though -– the point is that Jake is not ready to see Jared. Jake hasn’t shaved in days; he knows he looks like shit, and Jared -– Jared’s cut his hair, and his eyes are just as sharp and piercing as ever. He’s wearing that vintage Nirvana shirt that Jake bought him for his birthday this year, and he looks like a million fucking bucks.
Jared looks like a real movie star, like he should’ve been fucking Heath in Montana. He looks almost flawless, and Jake has to fucking leave, right the fuck now, because Jared’s always been able to see right through him.
Jared will know that Jake's miserable without him, and Jake's pride isn't ready for that just yet.
“No way,” Jake says quietly. “No. Fucking. Way.”
Jake doesn’t know how he gets out the door; he just knows that he circumvents the entire fucking conference room table, and that he can still smell Jared’s Marlboro Reds and Dial soap.
If there are people yelling and staring and wondering what the fuck is going on, well, Jake’s a star now, he’s used to that.
Jake Gyllenhaal has rage issues. This isn’t something that Jake likes to talk about, because most of the time he’s pretty laid back and relaxed. A good 95% of the time, Jake is practically horizontal with lassitude, but that other 5% -- well, that’s just the sort of thing that gets him in trouble. There was that incident with his chipped tooth on Jarhead, and there was that time in college when his roommate left his wet towel on Jake’s bed. Suffice to say, Jake’s working it, but nobody’s perfect. He used to tell Jared this on a regular basis, and Jared would just roll his eyes and go back to his guitar.
Kirsten tended to just ignore him when he went on one of his rampages, or if he was really out of control, she’d send him to take Atticus for a walk. He thinks he’s covered more ground running Laurel Canyon to get rid of his rage than any other actor in town, which would be funny if it weren’t probably true.
Right now though, Jake doesn’t have rage, he just has –- well, he doesn’t have much, which is why he calls Maggie, because if anybody can tolerate him right now it’s his sister. It would be even better if Jake could see Maggie, but that’s the thing about her living in New York with Pete –- they’re in New fucking York and not L.A.
“We don’t want any,” is how Peter answers the phone, and Jake just laughs, because he doesn’t want any either.
“I’m not selling anything,” he says, steering with one hand and keeping an eye on Wilshire traffic with the other. “I’d buy, but I heard the LAPD are cracking down on marijuana.”
Pete laughs. “See, that’s why you need to move back east –- no one cares about stoners out here. We have delivery boys.”
Jake just sighs. “Yeah, yet another reason to get the hell out of dodge.”
If Pete can tell Jake’s agitated, he doesn’t say. “You want to speak to your sister?”
“Yeah, is she around?”
“You think I’d be answering the phone if she were?”
“What, you mean you’re not her receptionist? Well, damn, nobody told me.”
Pete sniggers, and Jake slams on his breaks, because the minivan in front of him has suddenly decided to turn right across two lanes of traffic. Jake hates L.A. traffic, it’s like everyone’s on crack. “You can try her cell phone; I think she’s out with Natalie or something.”
Jake taps the steering wheel with his finger and stomps down on the urge to just ram the van out the way. “Nah, never mind.”
“You want her to call you back?”
“Nah, it’s not important.”
“Right –- you called to shoot the shit. You sound like shit at any rate –- you just want someone to shoot you?”
“Hey, if it’ll put me out my misery, I’ll try anything once.”
Pete’s quiet for a minute. “You all right there, seriously? How’re things going? You gearing up for The Big Gay Movie or what?”
“I’m gearing up for something –- possibly murder. Dunno yet”
“You know that thing in the paper isn’t true, right?”
Jake sighs; he knows Pete's talking about that tramp and Jared. He needs a smoke, but talking on the phone and smoking and driving don’t tend to go together so well. When he had Jared -– fuck.
“Fuck, huh? I’d ask if you want to talk about it, but I’m not fucking Oprah.”
“George Clooney and Brad Pitt want me to be the spokesman for their new gay-friendly Bed and Breakfast.”
There’s a long pause. “Are you high?” Peter asks eventually.
Jake snorts. “I wish.”
“So, a gay mascot for Clooney and Pitt –- I’m thinking the pay is good.”
“I dunno, I didn’t ask.”
“You didn’t ask? Jake, what the fuck? I know we’re not in this for the money, principles, craft, blah blah blah -– seriously though, it’d be a hell of way to come out.”
“Yeah, well. Did I mention the part about how they want me to be a co-spokesman. With Jared.”
Peter’s quiet for so long that Jake thinks the signal might’ve broken, but then Peter starts laughing. “Well -– shit.”
Jake makes a right on Highland, to head home. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”
--On to part 2--
FYI: Jake’s sister Maggie Gyllenhaal, has been dating Peter Sarsgaard , Jake’s co-star in Jarhead, since 2003
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 08:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 08:48 pm (UTC)you might end up playing fucking Aquaman in orange sequins.
And that's the second-best part, because it is a beautiful, beautiful image.
This is seriously good. You've got this wonderfully snappy writing style that I just love. I'm looking forward to the rest.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:32 am (UTC)Actually, I'm thinking more like five parts, becuase there has to be the Interlude and the Epilogue -- which is really just code for Brad & George banter.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 08:54 pm (UTC)Ari and Mia, baby, my new OTP. Love the crack.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 09:51 pm (UTC)“Jake, baby, how are things? How’s life? How’s that Brokeback bitch? I saw it at Sundance, and yeah, wow, did you really fuck Heath? That’s art right there, my man. I smell an Oscar here -- it’s either that or burned coffee –- unless Lloyd broke the fucking espresso machine again, that shit doesn’t come for free –-“
Can Ari be my agent?
And did they write that role just for Piven? I mean, no one else could have been Ari.
www.ifuckexecutivesforscripts.com
oh dear, that much fun, huh?
Yeah, it’s what ugly people yell to get attention –- okay, enough foreplay.
I mean REALLY!
Brad: He he, Ari, man *wags head*
George: Could I get away with saying things like that?
Brad: George, please.
George: Because I'd really like to try.
Ari has the gleam of the deranged with power and creativity.
Oh man, gimme a little o' that.
I see some "reseach" evidence. Jared is about to make me run out and rape him.
“Right –- you called to shoot the shit. You sound like shit at any rate –- you just want someone to shoot you?”
Oh no, don't make Peter cool. Shit. I don't need that.
Ahhhhhhh.
OK, I've got Vic looking for the song.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:34 am (UTC)Dude, my head just spun around and I spit pea soup like in the Exorcist.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 11:48 pm (UTC)*flails some more*
}:)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 12:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 12:27 am (UTC)Ahem.
To Kill and Mockingbird - To Kill A Mockingbird?
and There's a Tom Cruise level of outing in which everyone knows your gay - everyone knows you're gay.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 01:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 02:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 05:48 am (UTC)So much.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 07:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:40 am (UTC)See, this is why I adore you, because you think just like me.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 07:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 02:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 03:46 pm (UTC)God, I fucking love Ari.
Are we gonna get an appearance from Hayden's Maya? Because that would be fucking awesome.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 04:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 07:07 pm (UTC)“Yeah, it’s what ugly people yell to get attention
Clearly I need to get Showtime because Ari Gold is fucking awesome.
Damn I love this fic. And I think we should tie you down in a room and only let you write crackfic. yep. Also, Jake got a new puppy. (http://justjared.blogspot.com/2005/11/jake-gyllenhaals-dog.html)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 07:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 07:15 pm (UTC)Okay, so I admit, I was slightly skeptical about this. Um, I was wrong, this is hilarious and I want to know what happens next. And not just what Ari is going to say next, really!
Because seriously:
“George Clooney and Brad Pitt want me to be the spokesman for their new gay-friendly Bed and Breakfast.”
that's like the whole reason you wrote this, for that line, right? Of COURSE.
Well, okay, that and the immense amounts of pretty. Because yis.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:42 am (UTC)that's like the whole reason you wrote this, for that line, right? Of COURSE.
Duh. ;)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 08:37 pm (UTC)On the other hand,
Jake Gyllenhaal has rage issues.
...made me laugh like a loon, so maybe I have gone around the bend. So, where does that leave this feedback, other than "hopelessly muddled because I'm trying to write it between phone calls at work"? Well, I'm still addicted to this crack you're slingin', so help a crazy-ass bitch out and don't leave her jonesin' too long, hmmm?
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:43 am (UTC)Darling, it can be whatever you want it to be, that's the wonder of crack!
no subject
Date: 2005-11-08 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-08 06:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-08 09:55 pm (UTC)But you know it's good, don't you?
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 01:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 05:34 am (UTC)Just one itty-bitty thing...
because he needs something to do with his hands which doesn’t involve grabbing someone around the next and screaming,
no subject
Date: 2005-11-10 11:48 pm (UTC)