the James Dean that lived

4

kurt and krist had left after a night of watching television.
"hey riv?" i asked him. he nodded idly, he was making us a late dinner.
"what's it like? you know, to be as loved as you are." i said. he turned around from the vegetable stir-fry.
"it gets empty. you feel like no one could possibly really love you. you feel guarded, like everyone only likes you for your money or your fame. it gets sad. i often feel lonely." he said. i hopped off the counter and wrapped my arms around his stomach.

he looked down at me and smiled, giving himself a slight double chin. my face was pressed into his chest and his arms around my shoulders.
"you don't just want to be around me because i'm famous." he stated. it was not a question, he knew the answer. he buried his face into my hair and then withdrew to tend to our meal.

a couple moments later it was done, a mixture of vegetables and rice. river made a plate for the both of us.
"what do you want to drink?" he asked me. i poked my head into his fridge.
"coke would be fine." i said. he handed me a can

we sat down at a tiny breakfast nook in the corner and began eating.
"you must be hungry after not having much breakfast," he said. i nodded idly, staring at him, but unintentionally.
"can i say something without seeming creepy?" he asked. i nodded, not really knowing what to expect.
"you're so adorable." he said with a smile. "looking up at me with those big brown eyes." he reached across the table and put his thumb on my chin. "you're a very beautiful girl. that's all," he said.
"thank you river. you're not so bad yourself."

"do you want me to drive you home?" river asked me. i nodded. he grabbed his keys and i grabbed my jacket and he opened the door to his apartment. we made our way to his car.
"i really had a lot of fun with you," he said.
"me too." i smiled.
"can I get your number? you know, so maybe we can go to a concert together some time or something," he asked nervously.
"once we get to my place i'll write it down for you," i said. he smiled the whole ride home as the smiths hour on our local college radio station played. once we got back on campus i directed river to the block of apartments i lived in. we both got out, i unlocked my door, and invited him inside.

my roommate was sitting on the couch.
"holy shit mat, i was so worried," she said, getting up to hug me. but then she saw who lurked in the shadow.
"you spent the night with river phoenix?" she asked, absolutely astounded.
"not in the way you think," river said defensively, shutting the door to our apartment behind him. she laughed
"still, that's insane." she said. "hi i'm sarah," she introduced herself and reached out a hand to shake.
"your girlfriend? or..." river asked, gesturing towards our closeness while shaking her hand.
"no, just roommates," i laughed.
river gave out a slight sigh of relief.

"hey riv?" i asked. he nodded a bit.
"it's 1, you should just stay here." i said.
he nodded, agreeing, and took off his shoes.
"we can hang out in my room until you want to go to sleep," i said, guiding him through the hallway. i shut the door behind us and laid down on my bed, patting the place beside me. i got under the blanket and fluffed the pillow below my head. i laid on my side, facing him.

he had a thumb in his belt loop, and he pushed his glasses up with his other hand.

a hand, i noticed, that had little pink dots.
"i was born addicted to heroin." i said. his eyes widened.
"how could you tell?" he asked, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt nervously.
"don't worry, you're not obvious," i said. he looked down sadly at the seam of his jeans, or whatever was near it.
maybe at the belt he tied around his arm. he grabbed my hand with his own.
"a lot of addicts look back at their life and remember the time before the itch. but i've always had it." I said.

"i grew up in Washington. there's this unrelenting gloom that surrounds the insignificance of everyone who is not famous. though, after meeting kurt, it surrounds them too. it almost always rains. the muted clothes everyone wears only pulls everyone into a deeper depression. life is heavy. life sucks." i said, babbling almost. he scooted closer to me and leaned his beautiful head against my own.
"life doesn't have to suck," he said, with the hopeful eyes of a child.
"maybe." i told him. but i didn't believe it myself.