Somewhere in an alternate Gyllenverse, part II
[SCENE: A car's interior, nighttime. It's a modest-looking vehicle which may or may not be a hybrid. The interior is a medium gray, upholstered in leather. Stretched haphazardly across the back seat is a dark gray fleece blanket. Our impossibly gorgeous young actor is behind the wheel, looking a bit frazzled but still beautiful in a cheap lightweight black jacket, tan t-shirt, a brushed-fleece scarf that almost matches the backseat blanket, and jeans. His cell phone, tossed into the passenger seat among other debris, begins to buzz its way across the seat as it vibrates with a call.]J: Shit. [glancing over, grabs phone, answers] Yeah?
Anonymous Party Host: [on other end of phone line] Hey, that was intense. Are you okay?
J: [sighs] Yeah, I'm fine.
APH: We saw it from the window. I had to stop Bob from running to your rescue. You sure you're okay? They were right on top of you.
J: I'm fine, really. A little flash-blind, but that's fading.
APH: I'm sorry. You should have let us use the hose.
J: As satisfying as that might have been, it wouldn't have stopped them. [stops at a traffic light, looks around] I told you I was followed. You thought I was being paranoid.
APH: [irritably] I did not say 'paranoid.'
J: Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not paranoid, I'm 'nuts.' [light changes, drives on] That one guy almost lost a foot, I swear.
APH: I thought going out the back door would work. You really, really should have let us run them off first. Seriously.
J: I'm a big boy, I can handle a few photographers. But I told you they were there.
APH: [apologetically] I know. I'm sorry. I didn't think anyone knew you were coming.
J: [signaling and then turning] They didn't. They were outside my house. They're always outside my house. They followed me. I told you, I was followed.
APH: Okay, okay. And you were right. [playfully, after a beat] So I guess this means you won't be coming to my next party?
J: [laughing] No, I'm never coming to your house again. Your parties suck, I had no fun, I left alone. In fact, delete my number from your phone.
APH: Hey, it's not my fault you left alone. That was your move, bud.
J: Yeah, well, with those guys staked out in your bushes, she'd have been instantly famous.
APH: Oh, come on. You can't claim that excuse. [teasing] You're just picky.
J: That's me, mister discriminating.
APH: Who are you supposed to be fucking these days, anyway? I've lost track.
J: So have I. Last I heard, I was seriously overrated, though. [giggling]
APH: [laughing] Someone should tell that to the guys who were in my bushes.
J: [laughing] I did. They wouldn't listen.
APH: [laughing]
J: [stopping at another light] You know, I should find out who I'm dating. I could really go for some sex right now.
APH: [laughs] You're terrible.
J: What's terrible is that my tabloid self is fucking an assortment of attractive people of either gender, and I haven't had sex in two years. [in mock despair] I'm lonely!
APH: You're so full of shit.
J: I'm full of ...something. [starts driving again]
APH: I'm hanging up now.
J: [melodramatic] But I'm so lonely!
APH: [laughing] Goodnight, Jake.
J: 'Night.
[J hangs up call, tosses phone back on seat, and drives on, smiling]
Inspiration here.