Love and Ambition

19 - Youth and Whiskey

Watching Jennifer act felt like a knife dug into my heart. Although I directed—acting professional—her eyes rolled; she followed my instructions, but she exhales breaths of annoyance each time I yelled, "cut!".

But as she projected her anger to her role, it created scenes that moved your heart. Her eyes glassed up, like she believed the words I wrote. That deep down, I was still her best friend. But her cold stares sends my gut to churn.

I just need an excuse to talk to her again.

The day ended. Jennifer left and I let out a breath I didn't know I was keeping in. We begin packing up and Jason walks over to my side, setting the camera in the bag I was packing.

"That tension could cut glass," he comments, side eyeing me. "What's up?"

I heave a breath, mustering the best smile I could. "Nothing!" 

"C'mon, Brooke," he pulls me to look at him, "this has been going on for days now. What's up?"

His eyes look straight through me. I hate it. I look away from him. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Then you wanna go out tonight? You've worked hard this week."

"No, I think I'll just stay in."

"Then come to mine. Peter's sleeping at his girlfriend's again."

The thought of being with Jason was tempting, but not anymore. I shake my head. "I'm sorry, Jason."

He sighs, then giving me a soft smile, followed by an even softer, "okay."

We walk back with the equipment, trudging them through the snow that had built up to our ankles. The sun had set just behind the mountain, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange; the clouds looking like velvet sheets. 

Although I'm heaving through breaths, I am encapsulated by the beauty of nature that you don't often see in the city. 

Approaching the university, Rebecca's group films in the parking lot again. Snow shoveled and heaped to the side.

Jason trails behind me with his smoker's lungs and I wait for him—setting the bags down. 

I watch Rebecca act. Without knowing her history, you'd think she's talented; but with acting experience, she was good. Captivating. Graceful.

I peeped at the first draft of their script last week while I was writing mine. Trying to get an ego boost and I thought of it to be a clown-fest. 

Now watching Rebecca say the words from paper...

My blood boils. 

At the thought that I had misjudged her; thinking I'm better than her. When all along, I'm just average. I'm just good at stories, good at writing, good at creating drama. While she's actually—great.

I want to stop looking, but I can't turn away. My eyes glued to the scene that I thought was shit.

Becca cuts the scene for revision, eyeing so carefully at her performance. 

Jane walks off the camera and spots me, looking over her shoulder at Becca then heading towards me. She beams me an apologetic smile like she's guilty. "Hey, last minute changes, I'm sorry, but we have to film in our room tonight."

"But—"

"You understand, right?"

"Well—"

"Brooke, Becca's up to my ass about this. Please?"

I sigh, slumping my shoulders. "Fine."

She releases a heave of relief, then hugs me and walks back to her crew. I look up, the sky now in its tinted, wintery deep blue. The cold setting in with the wind. 

Jason reaches my side, breathless. 

I turn to him, smirking. "You still got that Jack Daniel's?"

* * * 

Entering Jason's dorm is like walking in the front door of your childhood home after moving out. It somehow smells the same even with the dust collecting on every surface; a hug enveloping you while you take in the surroundings—the same as you remembered, but different because you're older. 

After everything that's happened this week, the four walls of his room frees me from the cage of my mind. 

Jason walks over to his closet, fetching his bottle of Jack Daniel's and plopping on his bed. 

"Let the party begin," he takes a shot. 

I reach for the bottle, taking a bigger swig than anticipated; letting everything that's been weighing me down fall through the floor. My mind racing back to a time of happiness.

When Jenn was my best friend, when I thought I was madly in love with Sean, when I believed in myself.

As I thought about those things, a sting in my heart told me that I wasn't even happy then. 

I pass the bottle to Jason, and he welcomes it. 

Feeling the way we sit, passing whiskey and the faint smell of tobacco from his clothes whirls me to the night we met. I had forgotten about my shitty boyfriend and the view of the town before us came to mind—I felt as free as I walked in this room. 

His lips pull me closer, but he stops me.

"Are you sure?" He asks, concerning eyes now looking at me.

I smile at him. "I'm sure that I really want to kiss you."

He smiles, placing a palm on my cheek and pulling me in. As our lips meet, that's what it was. A kiss. A kiss that I've never felt before. A kiss with desire and passion. A true connection that bridges us. 

A kiss that I don't want to end.

His phone buzzes on his desk. He looks me in the eyes, giving me a quick peck, before checking his phone. I manage to peek at the caller ID. 

"Hey, mom," he answers. From the little I hear through the speaker, I tell myself it's none of my business. Jason tries to butt in, but his mom keeps talking.

The mutterings of an excited mother drifts to the background as I remember her. The fact that she didn't even recognize her own son; that Jason looks skeptical about her—his own mother—to even trust her.

Then I remember about the girl he mentioned. Talking about her like he was in love. Maybe, in this wicked world, his mother got in the way of their love and he could never forgive her. 

But how could she not have recognized him?

"Okay," Jason heaves a breath, laughing half-heartedly, "can I call you tomorrow?"

They say their good-byes. Jason turns to me, chuckling. "Sorry—"

"Hey," the air turns cold as I cut him off. A thought re-entering my mind as I sit here with Jason. Someone I call a friend, but who is still that mysterious stranger from the bathroom. 

I turn to him. "Have you never met your mom? We met her a few days ago and you didn't even trust her," I look at him. His chest heaving as I muttered on. "Did she do something to you?"

His smile fades at the question, looking away from me. "Oh, um," he readjusts in his seat, clearing his throat. "Brooke, are you sure you want to know?"

"Jason, I love you, but I know nothing about you," the three words blurted out of my mouth as I thought them. Even when I meant it with Sean, saying it to Jason felt more fitting. Like the glass slipper was on the foot of the wrong person, now finding its way to Cinderella. 

"You love me?" His face brightens, moving closer to me.

Seeing him light up like a puppy, I can't help but grin. "Yes, dumbass, I love you."

"Okay," he takes a breath, stealing the whiskey from my hand and taking a shot. "Here goes nothing."