Page 8 of And They Had a Great Fall

Tears pricked his eyes, and he fought them back. God, he was a fucking mess. It was egg and cheese on a bagel, and he was ready to cry like a damn baby. He was caught off guard by his own reaction and how fast it washed over him. It was his absolute favorite comfort food in the world and the first thing he ate whenever he was back in the city. She’d remembered, and despite the shitty way the past year had gone, she was here, with an egg-and-cheese. Fuck. He was in trouble if he was already feeling this emotional. He always had a propensity for strong emotion, but he’d tried to bury everything the past year. Bury it all in work, drugs, and sex, all the while convincing himself he was doing just fine.

He gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath through his nose while the tears threatened to fall past his eyelids. He rolled his eyes upward to keep the drops from falling, reconstructing hisemotional dam. He jumped up from his chair, grabbed his backpack from the floor near the table, pulled out his G Pen, and loaded a new cannabis oil cartridge. He needed something to tamp down the manic anxiety he could feel just below the surface.

Plopping back down on his chair, Jake slowly inhaled the calming vapors as Kat watched him.She must think I’m crazy, he thought, suddenly flustered by his own conflicting feelings about her sitting across from him. He was simultaneously elated and humbled, while also feeling nervous and agitated. She wasn’t going to let him off easy, and he could see the mix of expectation and concern on her face as her eyes studied him.

“Jake,” she started, “what’s going on with you?” Her tone was soft and considered, and he began to fall apart at the concern in her voice and the unconditional acceptance he saw in her eyes.

He pressed the heel of his hand into his eye, knowing the tears were finally going to fall. He didn’t know if it was the wine, the food, or her. But he was close to spiraling into a familiar darkness—one where he often struggled and scrambled to find the light. He didn’t want to drag her with him, but he couldn’t stand to go there alone. Again.

She didn’t speak. Didn’t try to break the tension. Didn’t try to lighten the mood. He appreciated that she was giving him space. He knew they wouldn’t move from the table until he started talking. Kat wasn’t his therapist—he’d had plenty of those—but she was someone he trusted with this side of him. That is why he’d asked her to come. No, almost begged her to come. He cringed internally when he thought about that phone call. It was not his proudest moment. He’d smoked a lot of weed, and instead of calming him down, it had skyrocketed his anxiety. The only person he believed would answer the call was her. He’d never expected her to say yes, but she had, and now she was here, sitting in front of him, asking him to show his broken self to the only person he trusted to pick up the pieces.

He inhaled and started talking. “What’s going on with me? I wish I fucking knew what is wrong with me. For one, this film. This is my big one. I feel like everyone is watching me, seeing if I’m good enough to carry this big of a film.” He shook his head. He was aware of his fast rambling, but he couldn’t organize his thoughts. “And right now, Kat, I’m just not good. The one thing I know I’m good at is acting. It’s the only thing I’m naturally great at”—he paused to take a drink—“and right now, I go to set every day and I’m just fucking it up. Take after take after take.” He leaned back in his chair, balancing precariously on the back legs.

He felt a dam burst inside him and it all tumbled out: the disconnection from the role, the disappointment of the director, the frustration of the crew, the general sense that he was letting everyone around him down. And he didn’t know how to fix it. Garren had asked him what his process was and what he needed. The issue was that he didn’t know his process. He justwas. He just did it. He knew when it was right. And he knew when it was wrong. And right now, it was very wrong.

“I can’t pinpoint what’s wrong, but I feel outside myself, like I’m watching myself in a movie. A bad, straight-to-streaming, likefreestreaming, shit-bag movie. My own life is a bad film on repeat,” he said, laughing at his own dramatic characterization of his situation.

But he didn’t find anything funny. He was confused, and it was finally hitting him how scared he really was. “I mean, this is the largest film I’ve ever done. And it’s mine. I’m the lead.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What if I’m only built for small indie films? What if I can’t carry this big of a film? What if I am not what everyone wants me to be … expects me to be.…”

There. He said it out loud. The thing he was most afraid of. His heart raced, and he could barely control his panic as he heard his own voice admit his failing. There were artistic and monetaryexpectations of him. Expectations to rise up to the level of blockbuster stardom, and he was beginning to believe he was going to be a huge disappointment. And, given the nature of being a celebrity, it would be a very public disappointment.

Kat was quiet. Jake stopped talking and wished she would say something. She finally spoke, “I know youthinkyou have no process, but there have to be ways you’ve connected to films before. What’s different this time?”

He appreciated her pointed question, even though he didn’t have the answer. Jake shrugged his shoulders. He closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side. “I. Do. Not. Know.” He rubbed his eyes with his long, slender fingers.

Kat reached out, took his hands, and looked at him with such intensity that he wanted to look away, but he was caught in her gaze. “Jake. I see you and I know how much work you put into every role you take on. I have never heard you this stressed about the size of a film. Maybe focus more on the role and the character and less on the scale of the film? I don’t have answers, but I know we can figure this out.”

He squeezed her hand, comforted by the “we” in her sentence. It was hard for him to admit that he needed someone to help sort out what was going on in his head. He gave her a half smile and said, “One thing that makes me happy is that you’re here, Kat. I feel crazy for asking you to come like two thousand miles because my confidence is shaken. Who does that?”

She gestured toward him and said, “You do. And it was more like three thousand, eight hundred sixty-four, but who’s counting?”

He let out a full laugh.Yes, he thought,she’s right. He was the kind of person impulsive enough to ask her to come over three thousand miles. He rubbed his eyes and let out a yawn. He looked at the time. “Kat. It’s 2:30 a.m. I’m beat. Are you tired?” The weed made him sleepy, and his entire body felt heavy.

She gave his hand a squeeze and yawned. “Dying. I feel like I’m dying. I need to sleep. Like two hours ago.”

Her candor made him laugh. He realized he’d been talking nonstop for almost a full hour. “Thanks for listening, by the way,” he said, leaning forward. “But let’s get to bed.” Jake nodded toward the bedroom behind them.

Kat stood up and put their plates in the sink. “So, sleeping. How do you want to do this? I just assumed you had a two-bedroom, but.…” She gestured toward the single bedroom door on the other side of the apartment.

“I have a king. Plenty of space.” When Kat raised her eyebrows at him, he smirked. “Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s just a bed and there’s plenty of room. I’m too tall for that couch, and I’m certainly not going to ask you to come three thousand, eight hundred sixty-four miles just to sleep in a hotel or on some shitty couch in a temporary rental.”

Jake had called because he’d needed and wanted her presence. He didn’t want her to think he’d called her all the way to Denmark for a hookup. It was more than that—how much more, he hadn’t really processed—but he’d let her take the lead on anything physical during her stay. He didn’t know if time and distance had created too much space for them to reignite what they’d had. All he knew was at his lowest point, the only person he’d wanted was her, and that meant something.

“My mind is far from the gutter,” Kat grumbled. “I just hope you don’t snore or kick in your sleep. I already live with a pint-sized bed hog.” Jake chuckled in response as they walked into the bedroom. He went over to the side he usually slept on, sat down, and gestured to the bathroom. “You go first.”

After a moment Kat called out from behind the bathroom door. “You have more beauty products in here than I use in an entire year.”

He laughed. “If your face was photographed every day of yourlife, you would have a lot too. This million-dollar face needs to stay young.” He took out his contacts, and as he put drops in his eyes he continued, “I think I saw my first laugh line yesterday.”

Kat swung open the bathroom door. “Ahh … now I know why youreallycalled me.” She teased. Jake rolled his eyes at her. She walked past him wearing a loose tank top and frayed pajama shorts. Despite his resolve, Jake’s body reminded him of their physical history. He had a strong desire to touch her, draw her into him, but he wanted to give her space, not to mention he was dead tired. He pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed and patted the pillow. “No snoring, at least, I think,” he said, “and I won’t hog unless you do.”

After she climbed in, Jake went to brush his teeth. When he came back, Kat was already fast asleep.

chapter five

Kat opened her eyes and squinted at the light beaming through the skylight. She sat up and scanned the room to reorient herself. Yesterday was nothing if not surreal, with a very long flight followed by hours of conversation with a man she had barely seen in over a year. When she’d crashed into his bed, she’d been so disoriented she’d felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, both from the drain of very little sleep and the intensity of Jake. She could feel his anxiety—it vibrated off him like a flickering lightbulb about to blow. It was a higher intensity than she expected. She’d seen his constant undercurrent of unrest during the pandemic, but this was something else. Fear?Maybe itisfear…maybe more, she thought.

She got out of bed and walked into the kitchen to find Jake sitting at the table reading over his script, coffee in hand. He was wearing glasses, and Kat cocked her head as she looked at him. She didn’t realize he wore glasses. This was the first morning they’d spent together. In all their times together, Jake had never spent the night. She couldn’t imagine letting him in the same bed she’d shared with Ben. The same bed Becca snuck into nearly every night. For a minute, she registered how much she didn’t know about him. How much they didn’t know about each other.

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