My Leading Man | Timothée Chalamet

chapter two

I woke up before my alarm the next morning, excitement for my new script springing me from sleep. NYU had been good to me the last two years, and I found it hard to believe my sophomore year had only a month left. Living at home with my parents, who resided  about 20 minutes away from campus and just barely out of the constant chaos of inner city New York, had also proven a wise choice, as I was able to save money and have more privacy that allowed me to really dedicate myself to my major. I was currently taking Intro to Screenwriting, though it was more of a requirement for my major than it was an actual need of mine, since I'd been reading screenwriting books since I was thirteen. But who was I to turn down extra help, especially from experts? 

Eagerness to get to my 9 am class propelled me forward and into a quick shower. Afterward, I pulled on my favorite tight, black knit top and into my baggy cargos. Once I got my dark, unruly curls looking manageable and as far as possible from a wet dog's, I tossed them behind my shoulders and put on a swipe of mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss. Finally, I slipped into my favorite black Dr. Marten's - yesterday's accomplishment and today's excitement allowed for it - and I stuffed my script into my backpack as I flew out the door. 

On my walk towards the subway, I quickly realized that in my haste to get to class, I forgot to eat breakfast. My stomach growled at me angrily and I rolled my eyes. Of course I would forget something. 

I looked around my surroundings and spotted a coffee shop just across the street. Changing directions, I crossed and headed inside to grab a quick bagel and coffee to go.

Entering the shop, I was filled with the bitter scent of coffee and inhaled deeply. I smiled to myself, thinking maybe forgetting to eat at home wasn't such a bad thing, and got in line, taking in the café. It had an old industrial style with dark metals and pipes lining the ceiling and red brick on the walls. Worn hardwood floors creaked as people milled about, with only a couple tables filled with men and women getting a quick sip before heading off to work. Examining the menu ahead of me, I had just decided on a blueberry bagel when the man in front of me in line turned around briefly to peer out the big windows at the front of the store, and I nearly choked down a gasp.

Is that...? My eyes widened and I leaned slightly to the side, trying to get a better look at the stranger ahead of me. It looked just like... no. It couldn't be. But...

My heart picked up pace as I more closely examined the man ahead of me. He was wearing a dark blue hoodie with black sweats, converse and a black ball cap. Spilling out from under his hat was a mess of brown curls, twisting around his hat and neck. He turned to the side again, just for a second, and I knew.

"Are you- Timothée Chalamet?" When I started speaking to him, he turned around and once I saw those green eyes staring back into mine, I knew the answer before he could even reply.

His face broke out in a wide grin and gave a small nod. "Yeah! What's your name?"

For a brief moment I just stared at him in awe, and then quickly plastered on a smile. "Violet." I stuck out my hand to him awkwardly. What are you doing, Vi? This isn't a business transaction! Just as I was about to retract my hand, he glanced down at it, gave me a firm shake, and laughed.

"Nice to meet you, Violet. You know of anything good here?" 

Quickly realizing he was continuing the conversation, I smiled again and shook my head. "I- no. I've never been here."

"Yeah, me neither," he turned back to the menu thoughtfully. "I was thinking of just getting a bacon, egg, and cheese, but a donut just sounds so good right now."

I nodded eagerly. "Yeah- I mean at least either way you'll get to eat the same-shaped thing! Both are like an 'o'," I made an 'o' shape with my hand and immediately let it fall away. What was I doing? Did I want him to think I was a complete idiot? But if he felt that way at all, I couldn't tell. He threw his head back and laughed loudly.

"Hey, you're right! What a coincidence." He continued looking at me for a second and smiled, and then suddenly realized it was his time to order. He stepped toward the counter, but first glanced back at me and smiled again. "What should I get, Violet?"

My mouth dropped open in surprise at his asking my opinion, but only for a second before I shut it and faced the menu to give myself some time to recuperate. I tapped my finger on my chin in a big show of consideration before decidedly saying "Donut. How often does your day start with dessert?"

Timothée smiled at me and nodded resolutely before turning back to the cashier. "Right. I'll have one glazed, please, and a medium latte." The guy working the cashier smiled eagerly at him and slid his credit card along the reader. Forcing my focus away from the beautiful actor, I stared back at the menu to try and remember what it is I wanted. Once I remembered, I looked forward again just as Timothée slipped a $20 bill into the tip jar and grabbed his bag and coffee to leave. I stepped forward and placed my order, when realization hit me: I needed to get back to Timothée!

Temporarily frozen in a moment of indecision, I quickly told the cashier to wait and ran out of the shop after Timothée.