MiniSeries About Timothee Chalamet

Rooftop (The end)

Info - poverty basically, career taking off, abusive parents, punching someone, spitting on someone, perfectionist mother, mention of trauma, mention of alcohol, mentions of abortion

The first few years were so hard. Timothée was exhausted every day from his low-end job that required twelve-hour days. I worked as long as I could as I grew, but there was a point where I just couldn't anymore. The apartment we got with the money Timothée's dad lent him was dingy and dangerous, but we kept our heads low.

After Ridley was born, Timothée admitted something to me. He said he'd always had a dream of acting that his mother had shot down often. I'd encouraged him greatly. Ridley and I were at every performance.

"I'm so happy we ran away together," Timothée told me. We had found another rooftop. We had some cheap wine to celebrate his opening night. He'd done so well. Ridley was in her car seat, asleep by my leg.

"Me too," I said.

"Sweetness, will you sit on my lap," he asked.

"Of course," I said and I came over to him and straddled his lap.

"I love you," he kissed me gently. "And I very much love how your bruises have been replaced with stretch marks."

I laughed and kissed him again. I held his face as I deepened the kiss.

"I made it, we made it," he said with sparkling eyes.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"A talent agent found me at the after-show. I am being hired by a director named Luca Guadagnino. It's going to be good, I can already tell."

"What?" I squealed.

"Yeah, thanks for being by my side," he said and I couldn't stop kissing him. His cheeks and forehead and lips.

"I'm so excited for you," I said through tears.

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you and Ridley," he sighed.

"You act as if you aren't talented," I laughed.

"I am, but I wouldn't have this opportunity at all," he explained. I kissed him again.

He was very right that it was good. Within a year of the film's release, we had a beautiful house, our credit card debt was a thing of the past, and we were much happier and healthier. Timothée was soon a household name, and that only bothered me because now our parents knew where we were.

"My mom somehow got a letter to me," he said. He was doing my favorite thing. When he laid down shirtless with Ridley on his chest fast asleep. My phone, my new smartphone that is, was already chock full of pictures of this exact scene.

"What!" I said in shock.

"I think I want to text her for a little, see what she's like now," he said quietly.

"Timmy, she abused you, you don't have the physical scars as I do, you have the mental ones. You still overwork yourself on purpose because you think that gives you value. You sleep talk some of the things she said to you."

"I know, but, we never had closure, perhaps if I tell her how she affected me, it'll help," he said.

"If your therapist agrees, I'll stand with you," I agreed.

After some time, he wanted to visit his mother, who wanted to meet Ridley. I said there was no way he went alone.

"Mommy, I can walk," Ridley said.

"I know darling, but I want to keep you close," I said through labored breathing. We were back at this apartment complex. We were back at the place of control, abuse, and secrecy.

"Timothée, what if he still lives here?" I asked in a high-pitched voice.

"It's okay Mon amour," he took my clammy hand. We walked through the familiar halls. Like a nightmare, he came barreling out the door.

I was frozen solid as my father began spitting and screaming at me. He was nearly frothing at the mouth as I held Ridley in a nearly painful grip. She was asking what was wrong in a scared voice and she sounded like me at that age.

"You will never touch her, ever again," Timothée boomed. He stood up to the man I'd tried too hard to forget.

"Shut up kidnapper!" He roared. He tried to move forward and his hotdog-like fingers had only brushed my arm when Timothée landed a punch on his face.

"I said you will never touch her again," he said and spat on my father. He ushered me along, and soon we were in the apartment where I'd been told to abort the child I now held in my arms.

"Can I see her?" These were the first words from Timothée's mother.

"Why is that what you're so concerned about? You're seeing your son for the first time in five years," I snapped.

"I'm sorry, Timothée, hello," Timothée's mother said, after a long sigh.

"Hey mom," Timothée said awkwardly.

There was some awkward small talk, I realized Ridley had fallen asleep. That was probably for the best.

"Mom, what you did, when I was young, really affected me. I still overwork myself," he began, but he cut himself off to take a deep breath.

"I do regret some of my parenting choices," she allowed. "I think I may have pushed you a bit too hard."

"Thank you," he said, his knee jiggling nervously. I knew he had so much more to say to her.

"Can I see her?" She asked desperately. It still struck me as odd that she was so focused on this.

"Why do you want to see her so bad?" I asked again.

"Does she look like me?" She whispered. Timothée softened but I would have to burst his bubble.

"Because you don't want to be linked to us, because Timothée isn't doing anything academic," I said, knowing it was the truth.

"Y/n!" Timothée was about to admonish me.

"And because the two of you are still unwed! You have the money, just get married already," she hissed.

"I knew it," I snapped and got up.

"Timmy, we're going," I said. Timothée looked heartbroken.

"All I ever wanted to do was make you proud, but you broke me for your own desires. I don't want to see you ever again."

We were quiet on the way home. I put Ridley to bed and went to Timothée in bed and wrapped him in my arms.

"I was stupid for believing her, and smart not to put Ridley on the internet," he sighed.

"You having a big heart isn't stupid, it's okay to miss having a mom," I said and kissed the back of his neck. "It can feel messed up when we miss them, but the whole situation is messed up."

"Tell me something good," he said and turned around to kiss my forehead.

"I'm pregnant," I bit my lip in excitement.

"Wait, this isn't a lie to cheer me up right?" He asked eagerly.

"Not, fake, I'm pregnant Timmy," I smiled widely. He kissed me for a long time.

"You're amazing," he sighed and pulled me to him. "I love you and my life so much. Timothée on that rooftop, swimming with you, never thought to dream of all this. It's wonderful."

"I couldn't either, but I'm so glad it happened," I sighed.