23rd March 1998 (Monday)
Ricky Stirling (POV)
I looked down at my outfit for the day.
A fashionable black and blue suit by 'Tommy Hilfiger', and a stunning blend of classical style with a modern twist.
It featured a tailored, slim-fit silhouette, crafted from a luxurious blend of wool and silk for a sophisticated look and feel.
Tha jacket was a deep, rich navy blue, with sleek, narrow lapels and a single-button closure, adding a touch of elegance and flair. The black trousers would complement it, tailored to perfection with a slim leg and a clean, streamlined finish.
To complete the look, the suit was paired with a crisp, white dress shirt, a black silk tie, and black patent leather dress shoes.
The overall effect was a stylish and sophisticated ensemble that exuded confidence and refinement.
In short, it was perfect for the occasion I was heading towards in a sleek luxurious limo, hand in hand with my plus one, who looked equally stunning, if not surpassing me by far.
Then again, I might just be biased.
Funny thing about looking insanely handsome, you always feel uglier than you really are. Funny thing about that is… I'm self aware that I might be understanding the effect my polished look could, and probably would have on all those who lay their eyes on me… at this point, I don't know whether I'm underestimating, or overestimating myself… or walking the thin line in the middle.
"So," Her voice cracked slightly, as she awkwardly tried to break the lull in the conversation, "Big night for you… are you looking forward to it?" She asked earnestly.
"What do you think?" I ask back.
Caught unaware, she tried to formulate a response… it was cute seeing her fumble like that, "I-I don't know I guess, you don't care about the award itself, rather what it represents?" She answered with immense self-doubt… she wasn't wrong.
I chuckled under my breath, "It's funny," I finally spoke, "You know me so well… Really thought it would be the other way around."
A brief moment of silence ensued, before she clipped back, "What are you talking about?"
I raise an eye at that, "You know exactly what I'm talking about dear, acting like you don't… it's not a good look on you." I shouldn't have said that… yet I did.
Why you might ask? Because I was tired of it all. For months, I had left her to her thoughts and nightmares, as she grew increasingly distant in the emotional sense (not physically, things were going great in that aspect), and I compromised every single time. I diffused any potential cause of conflict, accepted responsibility and apologized for things beyond my control, and tried to get her to open up… all in vain.
I have patience in abundance, but having it tested in every single interaction for the past few months… suffice it to say, I'm no longer willing to compromise or delay this any more.
She bristled at my accusation before reigning in her temper, which was no doubt resurfacing, and then proceeded to give me the silent treatment.
Seriously, she's got some deep-seated anger issues, and needs to see a shrink about them.
"You know, you can try and avoid it all you want, it's gonna happen one day, whether you like it or not. I'm tried my Sherry… tired of pretending nothing's wrong, and life is peachy-"
"Then don't!" She snapped back, "Don't bother then! Be more like me for once Ricky, act a little entitled! Be selfish! Don't be so- insanely understanding all the time, making me look like the devil!"
I gave it a few seconds, before nodding, "Ok then… just remember, you asked for it."
She shot me a confused look, not having expected me to take her seriously, her line clearly meant to be provoking in nature but I exceeded expectations… by taking it literally.
"You're cold, frigid really, act like the world revolves around you, highly egotistical, you have an inflated sense of self-importance, come off as highly standoffish when talking to anyone else, or as Trent likes to call it, 'acting like a mean bitch'... Not to mention your daddy issues-" I was interrupted… by a well-deserved slap.
In my defense, she quite literally asked for it.
"How dare you?! How fucking dare you-"
"I'm sorry- how dare I?! You literally asked for it-"
"Oh you know I was being rhetorical and you- you dare bring that up-?!"
"Ok, what exactly made you pissed? Cause I brought up a lot of stuff so- was it the daddy issue bit-" And another slap followed by a-
"Oww! What the hell?! You- What're your- cheekbones titanium or something?!"
"Ok first of all, stop slapping me dear, it's barely working. Your physicality is not your strong point, and frankly, I'm feeling ticklish. And the red handprint on my face, now I gotta apply some foundation to hide that shit-"
"Oh shut up! Just- for God's sake just SHUT. UP!!"
…
"You realize you're pushing it right?" I said softly, after a few seconds of quiet.
"I'm- I am sorry…" She whispers softly, not meeting my eyes.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry too. Bringing it up was… insensitive and wrong… I shouldn't have." I meant it this time.
Bringing what was perhaps the most traumatic memory of her life up right now was a jerk move no matter how you look at it.
For context, her father was an abusive alcoholic, prone to bouts of rage. One fine night when she was 16, he got drunk, physically assaulted her mother and fired a gun at them both. He missed.
Her mother, like the badass she was, pulled out her own handgun and fired.
She did not miss.
The shooting was legally adjudged to have been a case of self-defense and her mother faced no charges.
Charlize witnessed it all. And I, in a bout of recklessness, brought it up in perhaps the worst way possible- honestly I'm shocked she stopped at a slap. If I was anyone else, I have no doubt my head would have been bashed against the window repeatedly.
"You know," I began, glancing at my wristwatch, a limited edition Patek-Phillipe, "We're still 20 minutes away from it… I think it's time we address the elephant in the car- metaphorically of course, you look gorgeous darling-" This time it was a light kick to my shin.
And for levity's sake, I played along, "Ow! It was a compliment ma Cherie! Really, some thanks I get…" I grumble as the corners of her lips twitch upwards for a second.
I smile, only for it to vanish as I realized what needed to be done.
And the thought of broaching the topic, the grim cognizance, that her stunning smile would be overturned the second I went through with it… I felt devastated.
And yet, the hardest choices require the strongest wills.
I think the only thing stopping me from shedding a tear or two, was the realization that she knew it was coming. She wanted it. She loved me no doubt, just as much as I did her, but she realized what needed to happen and… I suppose she wanted it to come from me.
Selfish of her, but something she needed I realized as well. If she initiated it, then she would take the full brunt of it, her guilt would effectively crush her. And despite everything that I knew was about to take place soon enough, I couldn't bear to see her suffer more than she already had… so I stepped up to the occasion.
…
…
The limo was approaching the red carpet.
My hands wrapped around her thin frame, I kissed her forehead before muttering under my breath, "We're here."
She responded by snuggling deeper into my chest, making me chuckle lightly for a second.
I tightened my grip, before loosening my arms, "Come on dear, we're actors. If we can cry on cue, then we can damn well halt our tears till the end of the night."
She finally disengaged from my embrace, her eyes slightly bloodshot, as she nodded rapidly, "I'm fine, worry about yourself. They're all here for you… Ready to face the music Poly?" She asked with a smirk.
"I grasped her hand tightly for a second before moving to the opposite seat near the door. "Come on then, let's do what we do best."
"And what's that?" She asked as the car stopped.
"Put on a show." And I opened the door, stepping out with grace, as I patted down my suit, if only to erase a few creases here and there.
It was pandemonium. On both sides of the red carpet were a throng of reporters and journalists, cameras flashed every second, as my ears were assaulted by a series of quick questions, all of which I chose to ignore in favor of offering my hand to my date for the evening.
She stepped out of the car, her ensemble a stunning masterpiece of elegance and sophistication. The dress featured a sleek, form-fitting silhouette that accentuated her statuesque figure. The rich red color complemented her complexion beautifully, creating a striking and memorable look.
It had a minimalist design, with clean lines and subtle detailing that added to its allure. It featured a plunging neckline and an off-the-shoulder style that added a touch of glamor without being overly revealing. The fabric was luxurious, draping elegantly and flowing gracefully as we walked, our arms entwined at our elbows.
She had accessorized herself with a pair of diamond earrings and a delicate bracelet, complementing her flawless hair and makeup near effortlessly.
All in all, my confidence was soaring through the sky, as we walked the red carpet, pausing every few steps, hitting out different poses, even pausing mid-way through manufactured laughs, to get some candid shots in… as we finally made our way through the door.
We were surrounded by celebrities from all walks of life; every single one of them was renowned for something or the other.
This being mine and Charlize's first ever Oscar, we were both looking around like, taking in the sights as we drew each other's attention to some highly detailed decorative piece or the other, in some cases, even celebrities we recognized in all their glamor.
And soon enough, it happened. As we made our way deeper into the building, we were flagged down by a man with a mic, conducting red carpet interviews.
"Hello there! I'm George Gonzalez, and here I have with me the latest sensation of Hollywood, a man who has broken precedents and cracked records like eggs, Ricky Stirling! And here with him is his breathtaking date for the evening, Miss Charlize Theron, his fellow co-star from 'Catch Me If You Can'! My god, Ricky, what a movie that was- I was on pins and needles the entire time, you know? I was like, 'Is he gonna be caught now? Or is he gonna escape? If yes, then how?!' It was phenomenal! Perhaps a few words for your fans who are tuning in live?"
I smiled widely at the camera, my perfectly aligned teeth on full display as they did what Rihanna clearly wanted to do… they shone bright like diamonds in the sky.
"Of course, George, and thank you by the way, it means a lot to me, and Charlize, here that you enjoyed the film to such a degree. As for my fans, thank you very much for spending your hard-earned bucks to go see my movies at the theaters. Let me assure you all, out of the 9 nominations that I've received individually, if I even win a single category, my speech will commence with a heartfelt thanks towards every single one of you- after all, I'm an entertainer to my very roots. And everything I do, I'm able to do with your support and blessing, so thank you all, very, very much. Let's hope you'll see again today on the stage, I certainly do." I finish with a shrug, before grinning from ear to ear as George laughs nasally for a second before wrapping it up.
… Sigh. This is gonna be harder than I thought it would be.
Ambrose Stirling (POV)
"Ladies and Gentlemen, esteemed members of the Academy, fellow nominees, and honored guests-"
Yap-yap-yap-yap-yappity-yap.
Seriously, who the fuck is this guy?! This unfunny asshole, taking potshots at everyone- that's not a joke, you idiot, you just called her 'boobs' her most important assets- what the fuck is wrong with him?!
Good Lord, I had witnessed tens of monologues, some of them were touching, some were outright hilarious, and then this motherfucker. Trying too hard to be funny and bombing terribly- good God.
All the while, my boy was giggling away, muttering jokes, or 'roasts' as he liked to call them, under his breath. In his defense… They were pretty damn funny.
Al, Daryl, Trent, Missy, the girl who played his love interest in Good Will Hunting, pretty much everyone was trying hard not to burst a vein in their forehead as they stifled their laughter.
The only reason I didn't burst out laughing was the glass of Pinot Noir in my hand, as I sipped it at a sedate pace, waiting for the poor excuse of a comedian to wind up his act, so we could finally get to the good part.
Sigh… I'll be a little more patient, I guess. I have waited months for this day, to finally see my boy on that stage in front of the world… I guess I can wait for a couple more minutes.
I've still got a few cigars and half a bottle left, it'll keep me busy till then if nothing else.