A 'SUB' REQUEST (Cate Blanchett x OC)

Chapter 27: Waterloo

The proscenium of the Lincoln Center shot up into the sky in a grandiose arch, a vast brightly lit stage extending into an even vaster darkness that is the house. In front of a tall white screen are placed two chairs facing each other, a microphone and bottle of water sitting on each. The lighting technicians were testing the lights, and the air was filled with motes of dust that reflected myriad colors and that feeling of mystique that only belonged to a theater, before the show started. 

I was backstage clutching 3 sheets of paper scribbled with notes. They were starting to blur from my sweat and touch and the paper folding before the ink dried. I remembered seeing my first play, Sweeney Todd, at the Lincoln Center at age 13, and two short hours did more to change my life direction than the entire 13 years leading up to them. It was the moment that I decided to dedicate my entire life and career to storytelling. And now I got to be on the stage instead of in the audience. My life had come full circle half a lifetime later - if I died today at least it would be with the knowledge that I made my 13-year-old self proud. But the stakes were very high tonight. My dreams had come true, yet I still had everything to lose. 

"Cate is ready for you," an assistant tapped on my elbow, jolting me into consciousness. 

I put one foot in front of another in the direction of the makeup room, my entire field of vision strange and wobbly. The rich velvety tunes of "One Mint Julep" blasted from the stereo backstage. It was a little past 3pm. After 3 months of running our lives in completely parallel universes, they would intersect for 5 fleeting hours under a purely professional pretext. I glanced at the clock in the hallway - every second that ticked by disappeared into history like quicksand. I pushed the door to the makeup room open. 

Cate was sitting with her back to the door, and two young and spritely makeup artists were running around primping up every inch of her face. Her hair already took on a hint of midcentury glamor, but her face was raw and bare, makeup free. A cigarette was dangling delicately from her lips, and she was apologizing profusely and asking the makeup artists to excuse her, she'd only have one and that was it. And of course they obliged, because she was Cate Blanchett, and a little second-hand smoke never killed anyone. 

And no one caught the moment when Cate and I saw each other. Because our eyes met in the mirror. 

Her smile evaporated for a second, replaced by a soft inscrutability. To my astonishment, there was not even a hint of a question mark hanging between us. But the inevitability of a firm period, end of sentence. It was up to me to write the next sentence, and I didn't know where to begin. 

I sat down in the chair next to her, fiddling with my notes. The silence extended way beyond what was reasonable by any social or cultural context, but again went unnoticed by anyone else but us. 

"There you are finally!" One of the makeup artists came to the rescue, "We're a bit behind on schedule, and I have to borrow Cate for some more lighting tests in just a bit -" 

Cate extended her hand, and I shook it. "Why don't we get the ball rolling then," I said awkwardly and politely. 

"Don't worry," Cate said to the makeup artist, "neither of us is new to this, it won't take long." Then she turned her face towards me, looked me in the eyes, and smiled at me for the first time in months. 

As the makeup artists started working on her brows and eye shadow, my job became easier as I didn't have to return her gaze while talking with her. 

"So this is what I had in mind - the panel starts right after the screening, so I'm sure the audience would love to hear about why you joined the project, how you approached the character, and your working relationships with Todd and Rooney. Then maybe we can segue to your most recent project, Tár. At the 45-min mark, we wrap up with the theme of the retrospective, which is your experience working in New York and your other films that took place here, like Blue Jasmine, Ocean's 8, etc..."

"Only New York? I think they're more interested in hearing about my time working in Middle Earth..." 

All of the makeup artists cracked up, and a grin couldn't help but stretch across my face too. She could tell that I was nervous, like the first time we arrived in Bath on our roadtrip. She was merely trying to put me at ease. It was purely professional - she would've done it to any other young person struggling to rise to the challenging of carrying a conversation with her. 

After we aligned on the beats of the interview, Cate's makeup was starting to come together. "What do you think?" the makeup artists turned her swivel chair towards me. 

"You look..." I said, "resplendent." 

Cate's eyes melted a bit. 

"Doesn't she?" they exclaimed, completely missing the gravity of the moment. 

As they finished the last bits of touchups, Cate politely asked them to step out of the room so that she and I could have a moment alone. 

"No problem," they responded, "but you have about 2 minutes left until credits roll and the start of the panel." Then they left. 

And now it was just the two of us, face-to-face. Without any eyeliner, hairbrushes, concealer, or excuses standing between us. Outside our door, we could hear the soundtrack to the final part of Carol resonating through an entire theater and tugging at our heartstrings, where Therese walks towards Carol in a room full of people from a completely different class background than her own. But Therese comported herself like she was no different and prevailed. 

Cate stood up and headed for the door. "Looks like we gotta go out there now," she said, looking back at me, "I just want to say thank you for doing this." 

All I could think about was the clock on the wall. Cate would head straight to LaGuardia and hop on a flight back to LA after the panel interview ended. I had mere seconds left. 

Therese walked, but I ran. 

I ran towards Cate. 

And I pulled her into me. 

Into the kind of embrace between lovers that had been kept apart too long. 

Then I had to tear myself away because someone started calling for us outside.

But she didn't let go.