Jack Avery
➵
The young woman was welcomed into the building in a flash of warm greetings and enthusiastic instructions of how the interview would play out. Her agent had relayed word of the company's request to interview her a few weeks before and she'd been looking forward to it; as a rising actress it was an honor to receive an invitation from such an institution.
Stagehands bustled about set, lights switched on and tweaked for the desired glow, while a mic was attached to the young star's shirt.
The interviewer— Meg— smiled at her from behind the camera.
"Are you ready?"
The actress nodded.
And cameras were rolling.
The interview went as usual for awhile, eventually arriving on the topic of a certain celebrity.
"Who is Jack Avery to you?" Meg asked from behind the camera, and (y/n) smiled to herself. Most who watched the interview would know full well who said young man was.
"He's my boyfriend of a little over two years. I suppose we aren't very public with our relationship, but it's important to us to have an area of our lives that belongs to us alone. Right now, he's on on tour with his band, has been gone for three months now, and...."
She glanced at the ground, wondering why she'd said so much, how she'd gotten here.
"I miss him."
Her voice was soft, so soft, a transparent window into the dark nights and silent travels committed to her memory.
She waited under the glow of bright lights for the next question, waited but it didn't come. Instead, there was a sort of static, and then a voice she knew so well.
Turning on her heel, slowly, she took in the screen mounted on the far wall.
A disembodied voice spoke up. "Who is (y/n) to you?"
Lips quirking up in a wistful smile, she crossed her arms over her chest.
"(y/n)," Jack began, "is not only my girlfriend, but my best friend. Sounds cliché. I know that, but she's the light of my life. I love her."
He glanced away from the camera, hand running through strands of hair. Sighed softly.
"I miss her. Tour is wonderful, and I love the people and the experiences with the guys, but... it's been hard to be away this long."
He smiled, faintly. The screen blanked.
There were no words to say, so she remained silent.
"What do you love about Jack?"
"It's... for me, it's the little things. Shared glances when we're surrounded by so many other people. Jokes no one else finds funny. Grabbing my hand as we're crossing the street. Putting candy on my kitchen counter so I find it when I get home."
She paused, insides twisting with want.
"He cares about me just as much as I care about him. He lets it show. And I love his heart. He's so giving, always checking on others before himself. He's brilliant and hilarious and ridiculously talented. I don't know; I can't say enough. I love him."
She stood motionless until the static returned and he did, too.
"Jack, what do you love about (y/n)?"
His head was tilted toward the floor when the question was asked. His eyes slid up to the camera. He smiled.
"There's too much to say."
Then the audio cut out and the screen flashed black.
Confused, the young woman began to twist around, but froze rigidly when the voice of the person she hadn't seen in three months spoke up directly behind her.
"(y/n)."
A sharp intake of breath.
"I love you."
—
