milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

There was a Woobie inna bar, relaxing on a stool with a bottle of beer. He was once again wearing a blue t-shirt, proclaiming in white letters across the front:

My name is Andrew.
I am not a turtle.

Ahhh, it was almost like old times. Being a friendly sort, he wouldn't mind company in the least, and is especially fond of meeting new people.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Logically, Andrew knew he shouldn't, but he honestly thought himself far too mundane to be a work of fiction anywhere. He cast another glance to Bar and hesitated before he spoke.

"You feel like playing the odds?"

She stares at him, trying to figure out if he's serious.

"Do you really want to know?"

"How bad could it be?" Oh, Woobie. Deluded, insane Woobie. You have no idea.

Oh Andrew, that is the question of doom. "Hopefully you won't be an extra."

Andrew laughed. "I dunno. I kinda expect it." He paused, drumming his fingers across the top of the bar. "So, uh. I guess I should ask her, huh?"

"That would mean somewhere around here is the main character, though." She nods, "I guess you could think it."

"Right." He took a breath, and then laughed. "I don't know what I'm worried about. Bar, if I'm fictional somewhere, could I have a copy of whatever I'm from, please?"

When nothing immediately appeared, Andrew shrugged, although part of him may have been a bit disappointed. "See? Too boring to be-" His words faltered as a single copy of a DVD appeared on the bar before him. He was on the cover, and so was Sam, and she was smiling, wide and perfect and exactly like herself. Below that was a picture of the two of them on his bike, and in the middle in white letters on a red background was the title "Garden State."

Andrew couldn't speak. He couldn't move. Although his first thought was, Who the hell is Zach Braff?

Michelle nods again, relieved herself until the DVD appeared on Bar's surface.

She looks down at the DVD and back up at Andrew's shocked face. "Andrew? Andrew? Are you okay?"

"That's me," he whispered, barely audible and still staring at the DVD box.

"I think it is," she says softly and touches his shoulder. "Can I see?"

Ever so slowly, a smile began to spread across his face. "It says my movie is hilarious and heartfelt," Andrew replied, sliding the box over to her and pointing to the quote on the front from Rolling Stone.

Michelle flips it over to see the other critical reviews on the back. "At least you're part of a well-reviewed film," she smiles slightly as she reads the summary. "It doesn't sound like your life's so boring..."

Andrew leaned over to get a better look, reading the copy on the back of the box. "Holy shit. They made a movie about when I came back home, and Sam and Mark and Kiernan's Fault..." He was, in a word, stunned. "I'm afraid to watch it. You don't think there's a sex scene in it, do you?" It said it was rated R, after all.

She thinks, "I'm not sure, it might be rated R just for language and violence but since it doesn't seem like it would be really violent I'd...say a sex scene wouldn't be completely out of the realm of possiblity."

"You think I should wait and watch it with Sam?" He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, uncertain.

"It's your decision, Andrew. I'm still wary about watching mine."

"Maybe I should sleep on it." How bad could it be, really? He knew what was going to happen, after all.

"Peter told me that the story was changed slightly when he watched the movie based on him. I don't know, if you do decide to watch it and need company..."

Andrew slanted a glance her way and smiled. "Thanks. I might just take you up on that." He turned the box over in his hands, contemplating. "How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow would be good," she smiles a little more. "Someday I might ask you to return the favor."

"Sounds like a deal. I'll, uh... Well, I guess I'll just meet you upstairs, then, since we've got a TV in the suite. If that's okay."

"What's your suite number again?" She nods, "I know and a kitchen. We still need one of those."

Andrew grinned. "Yeah, they're handy, especially when you want a midnight snack. It's 427."

"427, okay. What time would be good?"

"Early evening, maybe? Is that okay?"