Date: Fri, 20 Jul 2007 17:03:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: Christian G. <synful_romance@sbcglobal.net>
Subject: The Gyllenhaal Encounter - Part Twenty-Five
Disclaimer: I do not know or claim to know Jake Gyllenhaal and I don't
mean to imply to know any knowledge of his personal life or sexual
preferences. This is a work of FICTION and nothing more. If you're under
18 or don't like to read fan-fictions about same sex romances then DO NOT
read this story. For everyone else, sit back and enjoy.
+++
Back inside the warm house, Randy sat up on the couch and wearily tossed
the empty beer bottle on the coffee table with the rest of them.
"Who is it?" he cried.
"It's no one." Christian went to close the door but Jake placed his
foot in the way.
"Just for a couple of minutes. Tell him you have to go with a friend or
something."
"No, I'll see you later. I have to go."
Randy stood up and jadedly moved towards Christian behind the front door.
He was certain that it wasn't no body that kept Christian outside,
whispering and gossiping for minutes at a time. "Who is it?" he asked
again, this time stepping out through the small door opening. Jake locked
eyes with Randy and a strong wave of goose bumps showered his entire
body. His arms were covered in tiny knobs when Randy added, "What's
going on?" Christian was speechless. It was finally here, that moment
Christian dreaded ever since first meeting Randy and Jake.
"Nothing. Jake was about to leave."
"No I wasn't."
"Yeah you were. Look," Randy started, "Nobody wants you here,
alright?"
"Is that true? You don't want me around?" Jake glanced at Christian.
Christian stood in silence, sulking in the incredibly awkward moment.
"Make it easier for yourself and go."
"Shut up and let Christian decide." Jake hissed.
"Hey! Who do you think you are?" Randy stepped out onto the dimly lit
porch to confront Jake. "You think you can come here and take over the
place because you're some big movie star? News flash, you're a spoiled
snob who thinks he could have anything his little heart desires because
his face is plastered in magazines. Why don't you just go back to your
huge mansion and leave us the hell alone?"
"I'm a two faced snob? You have no fucking clue what's going on."
Jake shot forward.
"Oh, is that it? You came into our relationship, you're fucking each
other behind my back, you sneak around together, did I miss something?"
"Yeah, you missed the part where Christian was about to leave you
because you suck as a man and as a boyfriend. Are you so blind that you
can't even see when you're about to get dumped? Face it, he doesn't
want to be with you anymore."
Christian couldn't move. It was as if his feet were plastered to the
ground by some invisible force emanating from the two arguing men. He
couldn't feel sorry for himself that this was happening because he had
brought it upon himself and no one else. He was caught red handed, caught
with his hand in the cookie jar, and there was no back tracking now. All
that was left was to come out with the truth.
"You were going to leave?" Randy asked Christian. "When? Tonight?
Tomorrow?"
"I was going to tell you," Christian managed to whimper.
"Fuck this. Fuck you and you. Both of you can run away together and roll
around in bliss. I'm through." Randy shot back inside and went to grab
another beer before going back into the living room to let his temper
cool down.
"Come on," Juke tugged at Christian's arm, pulling down to the lower
step, leading the way down the path when Christian suddenly pulled away.
He ran up and into the house while Jake was left out in the cold.
"I'm sorry." Christian inched towards Randy on the couch. "I was
going to tell you. I'm not sure when but--"
"Go away."
"I owe you an explanation. I didn't know how to come out and just tell
you, I mean, I had so much going on at the time and--"
"Me, me, me^Å Is that the only person you think about? You had this
going on, you needed help with that, you're sorry, just shut up
Christian. You're not the only one dealing with stuff, alright? I've
known about this for a long time and I kept my mouth shut. For a split
second I thought you might come to your senses and finally pick one of
us. I waited and waited but, of course, you never did and now here we
are." Randy stood up from his seat, setting the beer down, stepping up
to Christian. "Do you want to know what I did? I took a page from your
book and fucked someone, too. See? You're not the only one that could
hide something. You want to know the best part? I don't feel bad about
it. Not one bit. I can do the same shit you do but at least I can own up
to it like a man. Right now, your apology doesn't mean anything,
Christian. You had so much time to come and tell me what was going on and
you didn't. Why couldn't you?"
Christian shrugged his shoulder and replied, "I don't know. I guess I
am selfish. I mean, I thought I could juggle you during the day and him
during the night. I know it was stupid and inconsiderate but I thought I
could eventually work things out by myself. Everything just blew up in my
face."
"Good," Randy clenched his jaw, "I want you out of here. Not tonight
but soon. I'll help you find a new place if you want."
"That's okay." Christian walked back outside to meet Jake waiting
underneath the house lights. Christian walked down until he and Jake
entered the big familiar SUV waiting by the street curb and drove out to
Jake's house.
+++
Randy was consumed with jealousy and anger and blinded by the face of the
man he wished a curse upon. After all was done and said, he was still
fuming over the altercation and wanted nothing more than to put a fist
through the wall a head. Of course, he wasn't about to search out either
of them because of the trouble that would follow, so, realizing a better
way to get back at them. Randy pulled up the web on his laptop computer
and instantly hit the People Magazine website. After looking around the
site for a bit, he noticed a "Contact Us" link on the bottom of the
page and clicked.
"Have a hot news tip, celebrity photo or celebrity video?" he read
aloud. "Email or call us now!" It was as if the little devil was
sitting on his shoulder speaking those words into his ear. He proudly
picked up the phone and dialed the number on the screen. After entering
all the necessary information on the phones key pad, Randy was finally
sent through to an actual person and let the woman know of a "hot tip"
that he had regarding a certain celebrity. Although the receptionist
asked for the name of this mystery person, Randy wasn't willing to
divulge the information just yet. He wanted to utter the name in person
and no other way. After a minute or two of pleading, Randy was given an
address and building number then he hung up. That was all he needed. Now
everything was going the way Randy wanted and he could not have been
happier.
He quickly entered his car and drove out to follow the directions
scribbled down on the sheet of scratch paper. Once Randy entered the
business oriented section of the city, he came upon a tall building with
no heading or name above the front doors. It was brightly lit and lonely
from the outside but busy inside. He parked, exit his car and was
disrespectfuly bumped into by a group of heavily intoxicated teens
walking down the sidewalk, slurring and yelling at the top of their
drunken lungs.
"Watch where you're going," the tallest kid of the group warned and
proceeded to move ahead. After the small altercation, Randy brushed the
inconsiderate kids aside and walked into the building with a chip on his
shoulder. He head towards a large desk with a small woman writing
something down in a black notebook.
"Hi. My names Randy, I called a few minutes ago about a piece of
information I had," Randy leaned in, almost whispering his words.
"Okay. Do you have what was asked for currently in your possession?"
she asked politely.
"Yes," Randy took out his wallet from his back pocket and set it on the
counter. "But I want to personally talk to someone about this before I
agree to anything."
"The policy here is--"
"I don't care. I just need to talk to someone before I do anything,"
Randy pleaded. The woman took the bait and picked up the black phone,
pushing a single number on the key pad before whispering into the bottom
end. Randy was unsure of who she was calling. For all he knew, she
could've been on the phone with security to escort him out of the
building. Luckily for everyone, after several minutes, a tall, statuesque
woman came down to meet him as he waited patiently in the lobby.
"Hi. Randy?"
"Yes."
"My names Rebecca Grady. I'm the gossip columnist here at the magazine.
What can I help you with?"
"Well, I recently fell into a bit of information on someone and um,
well, I want to hand it over to you."
"What is it?" Rebecca asked, smiling defiantly.
"Pictures mostly," Randy opened his wallet and was about to pull out
the two Polaroid pictures inside when Rebecca interrupted him.
"Just so you know up front, if you have anything that we might be able
to use, you have to know that we will be the sole owners of the evidence
from the point that they are used, okay?"
"Of course."
"And we are not liable for anything said or posted about you on other
magazines if they get wind of this. It's only with us that you, if you
want, will be able to speak out on behalf of what you choose to turn
over. Agreed?"
"Yes," Randy slid the pictures out from hiding and handed them over.
Rebecca looked them over and instantly smiled. With all the Jarhead
promotion going around she knew who the man in the picture was.
"And this other guy?" she asked.
"My boyfriend^Åex-boyfriend."
"Really?! Well, this is better than I expected."
"Yeah, but I don't want my name associated with those pictures. I
don't want my name printed anywhere. I don't want any compensation for
any of this."
"Yes, of course."
Randy turned and began to exit for the doors when he began to have second
thoughts. Although he was salivating for revenge and wanted nothing more
than to put Jake in his place, he wasn't sure if this was the way to do
it. He knew how it felt to have a secret exploited by others and knew how
it would feel to go through that situation. Randy thought about it for a
second and ran back inside, running past the receptionist in time to
catch Rebecca as the doors of the elevator slowly came to a close. He
pride apart the steel and demanded the pictures back.
"I changed my mined. I want them back."
"But you said--"
"I know what I said but please, I need them back. I don't want to go
through with it anymore."
"Fine," Rebecca handed the images back, "But you know we are still
able to print a story about this."
"Not with any credibility. Who's going to believe you with out proof?
Besides, you can't use my name or information with out my permission.
Thank's anyways." Randy walked back outside and hid the pictures deep in
his front pockets then got in his car once again. He couldn't believe
what he was about to do an was instantly confronted with shame as he
thought about the level he was just going to sink to. The starting of the
engine instantly cooled him down, allowing him to take a deep breath
before he pulled out into the darkened street. Randy was nearly halfway
home when he came upon a broken red light that wouldn't change, forcing
drivers to direct their own traffic. While waiting for the passing cars
to get through successfully, Randy reached down for the radio dials and
scanned the music stations. He wasn't sure of which station to stop on
as they were all in the middle of commercials advertising something
hardly anyone needed. Out of nowhere, Randy became overwhelmed by the
sound of car horns honking loudly all around. He looked up into the rear
view mirror and saw blinding headlights coming towards him. He panicked
and tried to drive forward but hit the brake pedal instead. Just then,
the cars headlights devoured Randy and a he felt a strong push coming
from behind, repelling him forward, causing him to strike the bridge of
his nose on the steering wheel ahead before the air bag was able to
deploy successfully. Randy's car was thrown into the middle of the
intersection just as another car about to make it's turn, hitting Randy
on the side with a smaller amount of force. He could hear the sound of
the three cars coming to a complete stop and the screaming coming from
outside then, he slowly began to dwindle away until as sight gradually
faded to black.
+++
Christian slept soundly inside Jake's bed. It had been a long day and
still it would become an even longer night. His cell phone rang inside of
the jeans laying on the white carpet. It wasn't until the second time
around that Christian actually awoke to the sound of the small jingle. He
drowsily crawled out from under the bed sheets and stammered around in
the dark, trying to find the pair of jeans with the ringing cell phone
inside. He felt around for the vibrating lump in the right pocket and
pulled out the phone, still twitching and sounding off in his hands.
"Ashley H," he read the caller ID. "Hello?"
"Christian?" The way Ashley said his name sounded strange. It wasn't
in her usual, cheerful, vibrant tone of voice. This time it was soft and
gentle, brittle almost.
"Yeah?"
"You need to get to Northridge Hospital as soon as possible."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"They just brought Randy into intensive care," Ashley whimpered.
"Hurry!"
Christian couldn't believe her and denied the fact that Randy was laying
in the hospital as they spoke. It took some encouragement until Christian
realized that Ashley wasn't joking. "Give me 10 minutes." He replied,
tugging on his pants while Jake slowly awoke behind him.
"What are you going?" Jake asked.
"I have to go somewhere."
"Where?"
"The hospital. Randy was just taken in for an accident. I'll be back in
a few."
"How're you going to get there? Your car is at his house." Christian
thought for a second. "I'll drive you," Jake added and hopped down
from the bed to get dressed.
Christian and Jake burst through the hospital doors and marched up to the
man in white sitting at his station. Before he could look up, Christian
said "I'm looking for someone; Randy Breybs. He was brought in
earlier."
"Christian!" Ashley called from the waiting area behind him. Christian
spun around and went to give her a hug. He could tell by her red, puffy
eyes that she had just gotten done crying a river.
"Where is he? What did they tell you?"
"They're still trying to help him in his room. The doctor came out a
little while ago and said that he had some broken bones and bruises but
it wasn't anything life threatening, thank God. He's going to be really
beat up though."
"Can we go see him?" Christian asked.
"Not now."
"I knew he would go and do something stupid like drink and drive--"
"It wasn't his fault. The police said that he was side swiped by
another car. They're talking to the drive in the waiting room down the
hall. One of the guys he was riding with was also brought in around the
same time."
With out warning, Christian dashed away from Jake and Ashley, storming
down the hall where Ashley directed him. He saw three police men looming
over a young kid about 17 or so. The teen had his head buried in his
hands and his leg were shaking uncontrollably. He was visible shaking and
from where he stood, Christian could see the small cuts on his hands
blood stains on his pants.
"Hey!" Christian started in the groups direction like a bull to a
matador. "Hey!" He yelled louder.
"Christian!" Ashley called after him.
"Is this how you spend your nights? Huh! You son of a bitch! Do you like
getting completely shit faced and running into people on the street you
little fucker!?" One of the police officers stepped between Christian
and the battered driver, holding him back as Christian thrashed around,
trying to get a hold on the upset teen. "Fucking bitch!"
Jake arrived in time to wrap his arms around Christian's waist, pulling
him away until they were all cleared.
"Sir, please keep your friend at a distance or else we'll have to
subdue him with handcuffs."
"Yes, officer," Jake replied while Ashley watched in horror.
"Piece of shit!" The kid only watched as Christian cursed and backed
away slowly. His face was blank, not even a sign of remorse could be
seen.
"Calm down." Jake whispered as he towed Christian back into an empty
seat. Ashley sat down beside him and cradled her face in her hands. Just
as they became comfortable, the doctor in a long white robe came out from
behind the large swinging doors with a steel clipboard at hand.
"Ms. Tills?" he asked Ashley. "I'm Dr. Herron. I'm looking after
your friend Randy while he's here."
"How is he doing?" Ashley asked.
"So far so good. He's responsive, he's talking and communicating with
the staff and we see that as a good sign. He does have a slight
concussion along with the obvious cuts and breaks. We have him hooked up
to a respirator at the moment because he does have a broken nose. He's
going to have to stay for a few days because we need to go in and fix the
broken bones and what not."
"Can I see him?" Christian shot forward.
"Unfortunately, no. We're going to start surgery on him shortly so we
need the room completely sterilized but you can probably see him tomorrow
although we don't promise anything," the doctor answered sadly. "I'll
give you a call when we see some results."
"I'm going to stay here." Ashley replied. "I'll call work tomorrow
from a payphone."
"I'm staying, too."
"Do you want me to stay with you?" Jake added next.
"No. It's okay. You probably have some things you have to do but I'll
let you know how things go later." Christian said.
"Okay. Call me later." Jake gave Christian a small kiss on the cheek
and head towards the exit to get back in his car.
Ashley and Christian stayed in the waiting room for the reminder of the
night, neither getting much sleep as they worried about the man in
intensive care. Both praying for the sun to come up so they could go in
and see Randy.
+++
Thanks for reading! Hope you all enjoyed this part. It's nearly done so
keep checking in for more 'TGE' sections. Thanks go out to Daniel for
giving me some ideas for this part of the story and to everyone who sent
me some feedback.
Email - synful_romance@sbcglobal.net
-Christian