hackthis_archive | RPS – The Incredibly True Adventures of Four Stars, Two Actors In Love, and One Gay Landmark (2/4)

For my girls (and boys), I present the Big Gay Uncles, George Clooney & Brad Pitt, Jake Gyllenhaal, Peter Sarsgaard & Ari Gold in

RPS/RPF
Prologue
Part 1

The Incredibly True Adventures of Four Stars, Two Actors In Love, and One Gay Landmark (2/4)

"When I grow up, I'm going to -– to –- I'm going to be a Toys R' Us kid."

"You're going to stop bogarting that bong is what you're going to do." Peter Sarsgaard is way too coherent for someone who's been smoking up with Jake all morning, and Jake thinks he's trying to hand Pete the bong, but yeah, his hand's not really moving at all. The sofa's really comfortable and moving is a lot like work.

As far as Jake can tell, nothing's really moving at all besides the people on the television, and Jake doesn't want to watch CNN right now.

"Anderson Cooper is hot," he says randomly. What he meant to say was something along the lines of, "Where's the remote?" but that didn't come out, because Jake is stoned. Jake is really fucking stoned -- and this is why he loves coming to visit his sister and her boyfriend.

It's not just the drugs, it's the city, and the people, and the entire vibe of it. New York is good for him. It's refreshing and rejuvenating, and nobody fucking cares who he is, or who he's not, or whether or not he likes taking it up the ass from indie actors who wear too much eye make-up. The only problem with the city is that most of Jake's life is back in Los Angeles. He can fly Atticus and Boo anywhere he wants to be, but he still calls California home.

"You are the laziest stoner I've ever met." Pete's laughing at Jake, and Jake would laugh back, but his mouth is just curling into this smile, and it keeps curling and curling until Jake thinks his mouth's going to curl all the way up like a piece of wrapping paper.

"Seriously, J, are you all right there? Your face is contorting like your name is Gwyneth Paltrow, and I'm starting to feel a little concerned that you can't handle the truth –- the drugs -- that you can't handle the drugs."

Jake sniggers, because he can, even though he should probably say something to defend Gwyneth since they just did Proof together, but Pete's just that funny with his goatee and his moustache. He looks like a Frenchman who stepped out of a time warp.

"You've been watching waaaaay too much Sci-Fi," Pete says, leaning back on the worn leather sofa that Maggie's had since college. Jake watches as Pete sparks the lighter and takes another hit. He hasn't felt this relaxed in weeks.

"Where's the remote?" finally makes its way from Jake's brain to his mouth, and Pete's motions towards the coffee table while still holding his hit.

Jake just sniggers and rubs his face; he's shaved at some point in the last couple of days, because of all the press he's had to do. Mia's even forgiven him for the Clooney mess since he did his appearance on Conan. At least she has if her voice mail is anything to go by. Jake's kind of stopped answering his cell phone because of all the murderous messages she'd left after he bailed on the meeting with Ari, but this message didn't start out with imprecations against his manhood, so he listened to it.

Mia said he was "shit hot," which made Jake feel pretty good after he'd fled L.A. The rest of the message was quintessential Mia, which pretty much went like, "But don't think I've forgotten about the way you punked me at Ari's office. You are in so much fucking trouble for that that you should probably just stay in New York until I can track down that bounty hunter I put out on you."

This would've been really fucking funny, but Jake thought it was probably true, and Jake starts laughing for no fucking reason, because he's just that mental.

"Bong!Bong!Bong!Bong!" he sings until Pete hands the plastic device back over, and Jake's fingers around the base remind him that its now been almost three weeks since he's gotten off, and he should probably feel like he's about to die, but he's so busy being high that he can't be bothered.

When the going gets tough, the tough get the next flight out of LAX to New York to see their family. Plus, Jake really fucking loves New York. Every time he's here he has no idea why he left in the first fucking place. Yeah, he's got press for Jarhead and yes, Mia might've called him a limp-dicked wimp, who couldn't even stand up to his hygienically-challenged ex-ass monkey, but who fucking cares, because he's in the city now. Maggie's got his back, and his mom's in town, and his sister loves him enough to buy a new puppy, so who cares if he's hiding out at Maggie and Pete's? That's so not the point. The point is -– is –-

He needs another hit. Click. Gurgle. Suck.

Anderson Cooper is really fucking hot, and he's so gay.

"Anytime you want to stop fetishizing the newsman, let me know," Pete says. He's eating Fruity Pebbles out of the box, and Jake wants to know where he got them, but yet again, that's not what comes out.

"I haven't gotten off since Jared left me," says someone who sounds just like Jake.

"First, that's too much information, even for me, and B, you're too rich to be this unhappy." Peter talks with his mouth full, partial bits of Fruity Pebble flying everywhere.

Jake growls, or maybe that's Atticus, who's finally moving off of Jake's feet. Jake thought he was numb because he was high, but apparently he's numb because his dog's been lying on his feet. "Money is the root of all evil."

They swap the bong and the cereal, and Pete talks while refilling the bowl. "Money buys you weed -– don't be stupid."

Jake can feel himself sulking, or he would be sulking if Anderson Cooper weren't so fucking hot. Who can follow crisis talks with Anderson Cooper's mouth moving? Certainly not Jake, who's having enough problems just getting his cereal from the box to his mouth.

Atticus wanders back over and licks a few Pebbles from the legs of Jake's jeans. "That's stuff's bad for you," Jake says, making no effort to stop his dog. "Speaking of dogs -- um, where's Boo?"

"You are the biggest nerd I know, naming your dogs after characters in To Kill a Mockingbird. It's cute, but nerdy as hell. Also, you should know that we weren't speaking about dogs, unless you're speaking in ex-boyfriend code."

Jake hmms and scratches Atticus' ears as Pete takes another hit from the bong. Atticus is a good dog, a loyal dog. Jared could learn a thing or two from Atticus.

"Jake, seriously." Pete's head is wreathed in a fog of smoke. He looks like a mountain in the clouds, and his voice is really far away, like he's talking from some other state. "This Jared thing, you've gotta just get over; it's fucking with your life. I know you two were together, and you love him and shit, but if he wasn't happy then it was never gonna work out. You can't make other people happy, and the more you try, the more miserable you'll become. All you can do is make yourself happy and hope everyone else is taking care of themselves too. It's like trying to be clever, if you try to be clever, it never works -- it's just something that has to happen."

Jake has no idea what Pete's talking about. "How are you this cognizant?"

"My weed, man, I smoke a lot more of it than you do, that means my brain cells are more accustomed to being killed by this type of hydro, and therefor—-"

"You are seriously talking some shit."

"I was wondering when you were going to realise that. I mean damn."

Someone is whining, Jake hopes it's Atticus, cause if it's him that's just sad. "Right -– I'm missing a dog."

Pete just rolls his eyes. "Maggie took him out for a walk -– you remember Maggie, your sister, my girlfriend, tall, dark hair, real pretty—-"

Jake nods. Anderson's not on CNN anymore. He needs something else to look at. "Yeah, uh huh, are you hungry?"

Pete swoops down, grabs the remote, and them slumps back on the sofa like he's just finished a triathlon. "I'm fucking starving –- if this were China I would eat your dog."

Jake elbows Pete. "That's just nasty. Besides, Atti's too old and tough. You'd probably want Boo instead –- but you can't have him."

"That's what you think," Pete snickers, and Jake doesn't even realize he's launched himself at Pete until they both hit the ground, tickling and grappling and howling.

"I don’t even want to know," a familiar voice calls from above them, and when Jake looks up, Maggie's standing over them holding Boo.

"Thank God, you didn't eat my dog," he says, reaching up for the wriggling puppy.

Maggie just wrinkles her nose. "You are so weird –- get up, we're supposed to meet mom for lunch."

*

Jake likes to think of himself as a normal guy, who lives a not-so-normal life despite his better efforts. He feeds his dogs and takes them running; he gets stoned with his friends and gets picked on by his big sister. He falls in love and falls apart and then he puts himself back together again, because that's pretty much what life's about. As for being an actor, well, it's what he does, but it's not who he is. He tells himself he's not a star, but it's kind of hard to buy that when you have Ari Gold on the phone, talking at 90 words a minute, and things like "Brad and George" and "conference call" are being said.

"Wait, Ari, how'd you get this number?" It seems like sort of a stupid question, because Jake assumes Mia gave it to him, but he just needs to be sure, because being stalked by Ari Gold might be his #1 nightmare.

"Jake, baby, you've got Gold here -- I fucking own the phone company. I have those bitches working in my basement, and I've got the Feebles at my beck and call. I could track down Jimmy Hoffa and your third grade science teacher -– how do you think I got it? I fucked your agent, and she gave it to me along with her virginity and the keys to her Beemer."

Jake doesn't want to laugh, but he can't help it because Ari really is that funny, but Jake's on a quasi-vacation. "Cute, Ari, but I'm kind of with my family right now, so can we meet when I can get back to L.A.?"

Jake's lying through his teeth –- Maggie and Pete are out with his mom, and he's sitting on their sofa with Boo in his lap watching All American Festivals on the Food Network. Atticus hasn't decided what to do with the latest addition to the family, so he's taken to nesting in Jake's dirty laundry and bringing Boo Jake's dirty socks. It's strangely endearing.

"Money waits for no man, my son," Ari says. "Plus, George and Brad want to talk to you today, and don't worry about that thing with Jared, he's not really banging Ho Han. And if he is, he's going to get a really nasty surprise, so make sure that you use a rubber or six."

There's static on the line and another voice joins the conversation. "Ari, your understanding, empathetic nature are second to none."

Jake is not going to geek out and have a fanboy moment. At least he hopes he's not.

"George, baby, c'mon, empathy is for queers and chicks –- no offense, Jake."

"Jake, don't listen to anything that comes out of Ari's mouth –- it's more toxic than the bird flu. Too much exposure turns your blood to venom, and you spontaneously start stabbing people in the back.

"Oooh, Brad, you cut me to the quick. I'll remember this the next time Angie's in the tabloids, because she's been fucking her brother, again."

Jake's on the phone with Brad Pitt, George Clooney, and one of the most feared agents in Hollywood. It's like a watching a tennis match, except that it's happening in Jake's ears, and his brain is having all sorts of issues trying to keep everything together. He mutes the Food Network and tries to focus.

"Uh, guys—-" he begins, only to be cut off by Brad.

Normally, Jake hates being cut off, but it's Brad Pitt -– and who wouldn't want to be cut off by Brad fucking Pitt? "Ari, as always it's been a pleasure, but we're trying to court Jake to our cause, not scare the shit out of him and give him material for Us Weekly."

This, apparently, is Jake's cue. "I don't read Us Weekly," he says promptly.

"Shit," Ari snorts, "I read Us Weekly, that's some good shit right there. Not as good as In Touch or the Inquirer –- but definitely worth the $1.99. I mean shit, you pay more than that for toilet paper."

"Enough, Ari." That's George again, and Jake's brain is really starting to smoke out his ears.

Brad fucking Pitt's talking to him -- again –- something about Jarhead, and Jake's hands are starting to sweat. He drops the phone on Boo by accident, not because he's trying to injure his puppy, but because Jesus Christ this is so not normal.

Boo whimpers in indignation, and Jake puts her on the sofa next to him, so he can get up and pace in peace.

It's better than running around the apartment shrieking like a girl.

"Uh, guys –- guys –- guys" Ari, Brad and George are bickering amongst themselves, kind of like Jake did with Pete and Jamie on the Jarhead set, and it's fine when you're in the conversation, but it's hell to listen to.

"GUYS!" Jake hollers to get things back to some semblance of normalcy. "Look, I think it's great that you called me, but, uh, I told Ari that I wasn't interested, so, I don't really see the point."

"Jake, it's Brad, sorry about not actually saying 'hi' or anything, Ari tends to make people revert to kindergarten tendencies—"

"Hey! Fuck you too, Pitt."

"Shut up, Ari -– so, look, seriously, I know you said no, but George and I were hoping we could get you to reconsider. We're really excited about this, I've got this 1930s theme based on Charles Trenet's 'Boum'—"

"No one fucking cares, Pitt –- god, you are such a would-be-fag."

"Ari, when I cut off your dick and sell it on eBay, you won't be so quick to bite the hand that feeds you."

"When you give me ten percent, we'll talk, until then the only ass I kiss belongs to George."

"Like, I was saying," Brad carries on as though Ari hasn't even said anything. "Jake, we think you'll be fantastic. I've talked to my friend, Viggo, about taking some photos, and he's really excited too."

"Crazy Viggo Mortensen?" Ari interrupts again. "Shit, The King isn't dead after all."

"Ari, if you were in Calgary—-"

"Which is why I stay in a civilized country, Bradley."

"Are either of you named Jake?" George cuts off their bickering. "That's what I thought, so shut up and let the boy talk."

Jake is making laps around the coffee table and sofa, and he almost trips over Atticus, who is once again investigating Boo. "I'm flattered –- Brad –- George, really." It's so fucking weird for Jake to talk to Brad Pitt like he's a peer, Jake used to jerk off to Fight Club, but that's just way too much information. "But uh, I can't work with Jared Leto on this, that's just not going to happen. Ever."

"Jake, baby, do you think I've would brought his skanky ass to the office if I'd known you were quits? I promise you that would never happen. I'll have the entire place fumigated. I will put signs out banning him. I have this friend who can have him whacked -– and it won't even cost you a penny more than the 10% I get normally."

Someone sighs really deeply -– Jake thinks its probably him. Jake doesn’t think of Jared all the time. Since they've broken up, Jake only tends to think of Jared when he can't get off, or when a particularly loud rock band with crappy vocals comes on the radio. Jake was never a fan of 30 Seconds to Mars, but it was just one of those things that he endured in the name of being a good boyfriend –- at least that's over now.

"Jake, it's George, look, I know better than anyone that you can't always get along with your exes, and it's hell when you have to see them again -– but we don't need Jared for this campaign. We only had him come in because Ari said-—"

"Oh, right, blame the fucking agent!"

"Ari!"

"Fuck that bullshit -– Jake, forget Jared -– he's a dick. And his band sucks ass." Ari's completely running roughshod over the entire conversation, and Jake has to smile at this, because he's only heard the horrid music comment fifty times from Maggie. And that was just after the first time they broke up. "You're a good-looking guy; I'd fuck you if I was a fudge packer. You don't need to put up with his shit. You're a huge star, everyone loves you; you can do no wrong. We don't even need to advertise this as a couples retreat –- we can make it into a swinging singles thing. Is there anyone you want to work with? We can get them on this ad –- you name it, girls, boys -- I can get you Thai prostitutes and Russian hookers –- they have better suction than a Hoover, let me tell you."

"Ari –-"

"Being quiet, G-Man."

"Jake, what do you think?"

Jake doesn't know what to think –- it's like someone's offering him all this shit he's never even considered wanting. It's not like he's looking to come out, but this could be it. With this and Brokeback -- well. The best revenge is served splattered all over every magazine in town. "Anyone?" he parrots curiously

"You can have George if you want," Brad says. "Half-price."

"Are you trying to fix me up?" George Clooney has this really deep laugh; it makes Jake's dick twitch, and for two seconds he wonders if he's about to have something really big happen to him. And then the moment passes, because it's so obvious that George and Brad are all over each other.

"Not at all," Brad says, "I was just saying. A nice piece of fresh meat might be just what an old man needs--"

"What did I tell you about leaving the bestiality at home?"

"With the kids? No way."

"And don't call me old."

"You look good, why're you so touchy about that, old man?"

"Why did you give Jen the house?"

"Ouch! It was to save someone I know from being raked through the rags."

"Someone you're going to buy a gay bar with and convert it into a gay friendly B&B?"

"Someone just like that, yeah."

"Okay, girls, enough flirting,' Ari breaks in. "Another thirty seconds and you're going to be panting on the phone and fucking up my heterosexuality for life. Jake, baby, all we're saying is consider it. Come back to L.A. Take some test shots with Crazy Viggo -– meet up with Tweedledum and Tweedledumber -– give it a chance."

Jake pauses and looks down at Atticus and Boo, who have curled up on the floor together, probably to escape his craziness. "Sure," he says, shrugging to himself. "Why not."

--On to the Interlude---

+ Boo really is the puppy's name

+ 30 Seconds to Mars is the name of Jared Leto's band. Gack.

+ Jake on Conan provided by

literaryll. Show her some love, people.

+ None of this is possible without Kassie, show her love too.

Current Mood: geeky
Current Music: Ol' Dirty Bastard 'I Got Your Money'

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From:

elzed.livejournal.com

I've got this 1930s theme based on Charles Trenet's 'Boum'
Ooh and just for that, I love you. Well, and Ari, too, of course. Also, I now want to get really, really stoned.

From:

Educated Black Person, Esq., A.A., B.A., MBA, Ph.D., RN, NAACP, AAA

RPS – The Incredibly True Adventures of Four Stars, Two Actors In Love, and One Gay Landmark (2/4)

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