Happy Place || A Jerrie Fanfiction

XXVIII - BUT YOU WILL

-2 years ago-

"Please tell me you're not planning on following your mother," were Steve's very first words to me when he sat down beside me on the first day of Mom's funeral. He passed me a glass of water, and I accepted with a small smile I hoped would tell him I was grateful.

I reckoned he just came, because I would have noticed him earlier with his rainbow polo shirt — an unconventional choice of clothing to wear on a freaking funeral.

"I'm Steve," he introduced himself, "Steve Harrington. Your mother's colleague, a.k.a. her protégé."

His name rung a bell and I raised my eyebrows, surprised. "Oh, Mom told me about you, but I never imagined you'd look . . . you look . . . my age."

There was a twinkle in his eyes, obviously indicating he was flattered. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

He sucked on his teeth, shaking his head. "Definitely not your age."

"How old are you?" It was my turn to ask.

"Your age plus ten," he answered bluntly.

I was in the beginning of drinking my water, so when he disclosed his age, I found myself choking a little bit. He shook his head slowly accompanied with 'pfft' sound, then gently rubbed my back in circles.

"Too old?"

"Sorry, sorry," I managed to say amidst the coughing, but that was the first thing that made me smile that day.

"Oh, don't you dare apologize," he playfully chastised, "I am genuinely flattered that I look like I can fit in your age cohort."

That merited another silent giggle from me, which made him smile as he retracted his hand that was resting on my back and faced the front again.

We sat with the silence for a moment, facing Mom's casket. Her picture sitting on top of it was the only recent picture I could find, though it was taken a year ago, really. It was taken by yours truly. She came home late and was shocked to find me drunk in the living room, limbs spread on the maroon carpet.

I remember her asking me what was wrong, already sitting down on the carpet without bothering to change her clothes, my wine glass already in her hands as she imbibed on the alcoholic drink.

It was the night of Academy nominations, and I was devastated that I wasn't nominated. I thought Whatever It Takes would enable me to transcend everyone's expectations; I thought this would be my breakthrough.

Whatever It Takes was the first movie I've decided to play a mature role for. It delineates a protagonist who was an orphan, and later on decided that she has had enough with life throwing bullshit her way, leading her to become one of the best actresses in the country. What made me love this role is because it shows the hardships one must face amidst their journey to success; what made me love this role, what made this role mature for me, is because the character had to be cunning to get to where she is. She had to take advantage of everything she possesses, including her body.

Mom was certain I couldn't possibly nail this, and it was because of that did I decide to pursue this.

Every shoot, I gave my all. Every intense scene, I made sure my facial expressions match with the emotions that are exhibited. Every kiss I had to do, I made sure the audience could feel how I control the man. Every emotional scene, I made sure I exude sorrow. Everything I'd been told to do, I made sure I did them with all that I have.

Evelyn Patterson, the director, claimed I was good enough to take on more mature roles, perhaps even star again in her future projects. And knowing her reputation of throwing criticisms here and there, that's more than enough reassurance that I'm adequate.