(For Courtney and Scotty B)   

    February 18th happened just as it had every year for the past six years.

    I spent what seemed to be days in Christian's bed with covers pulled up over my head and blinds drawn. Mr. Mittens curled outside of the blankets against my lower back as I took long slow sips from a bottle of whisky hugged to my chest.
    I called Noah on Sunday to tell him that I wouldn't be in. I had mentally scripted a scene and acted it out for him over the telephone. I had the stomach flu and couldn't stand. He deemed my performance mediocre. He said that because he couldn't prove me wrong, he would grant me Sunday but if I knew what was best for me, I would make a point of being on set on Monday.
    I hung up on him and spent the rest of the day watching my phone ring, amused by the people desperately reaching out to contact me as I asserted the only control that I had over anything.
    Noah called several times. Holly called twice and sent a text message, as did Christian. Adrian called once.
    I counted down the minutes until Monday, February 18th; anticipating the date. 11:59 p.m. brought with it the fire of anxiety, a feeling in which the stomach and heart are set ablaze but the rest of the body runs cold. The mind questions whether it is possible to escape and emotions are choked by nervous energy.
    The seconds stretched on until the last second became a new day.
    12 a.m., February 18th... and nothing. Nothing happened. Nothing was different or changed. It was as midnight had been every night since the creation of time.
    The anxiety subsided and was replaced with two new emotions; disbelief and indifference.
    February 18th was unchanged. It continued to exist even though Eugene didn't.
    I picked up the phone.
   
    "Hello, my sister," Jane answered, she did not pretend the way that other people did that she was incapable of reading the caller ID or that she didn't realize that it was me on the other end. A lifetime of familiarity had dissipated politeness.
    "Tell me about Eugene," I requested.
    In her silence, I felt sadness and unquestionable understanding.
    She had been watching the clock, as well.
    "What about him?"
    "I want to know about the time that he took me fishing."
    "Geez... that was... almost twenty years ago. Can you believe that we're old enough to recall things from twenty years ago? Like twenty years ago I was starting junior high..."
    "You had one of those pink plastic rings that you tied the bottom of your t-shirt through..."
    "And you stole it!"
    "I'm sure that I've got it in a box somewhere at the grandparents house if you'd like it back."
    "Keep it. I found this picture of cousin Jessica and I from 1989 and our hair was huge. Someone should've told us how stupid we looked. I don't want to relive it."
    "Everyone had huge hair, then. Grandaddy had a perm, remember?"
    "I don't want to remember," Jane laughed, "And Eugene..."
    "Eugene..."
    "Eugene took you fishing."
    "Yeah."
    "He had saved up for this new fishing pole and it was the first time he took it out. Stupidly, he let you use it and you caught this huge catfish and you broke the pole, only I don't remember him being mad at you about it. I think he was just impressed that you caught the fish."
    "Then what?"
    "He cleaned it for you and told you that if you wrapped the eggs in aluminum foil and planted them in Mr. Harding's yard it would grow a trout tree. Which you did and he helped. I still can't understand how a catfish grows a trout tree."
    "Or how any fish grows a tree."
    "True. You did look for it for a few days but being little, you lost interest."
    "Did Mr. Harding find out?"
    "I don't think so. If he did, none of us got yelled at about it."
    "Jane?"
    "Yes?"
    "Does it ever seem like he wasn't real?"
    "No, I know he was real. I think you take it harder than everyone else does, Audrey. You can't seem to work through it or let him go... you know what I mean? You have no peace with it. Maybe it's because you were far away when it happened or because you're the youngest..."
    "Don't you feel it, Jane?"
    "Of course. I feel it in everything and it hurts and I miss him but you... you hold onto it for some reason. And you say these things that don't make sense. Eugene was real and you know that. He died and you know that, too. Today doesn't make that any easier."
    "It's hard... I want to call him."
    "I know, honey. I want to call him, too, but think of it this way... if we called him up at midnight, he would hang up on us. He wouldn't talk to us anyway."
    "Right. You're right."
    "I always am. I'm going to go back to NBC late night. I never want to be pregnant again. I never sleep and I'm sick all the time. Are you going to be okay?"
    "Yeah, I'm fine."
    "How about I call you at this time as Tuesday the 19th becomes Wednesday the 20th? Any grand plans?"
    "I hear my sister is going to call me."
    "I will. Don't hang up on me!"
    "I won't."
    "I love you, Audrey Leigh."
    I knew what she meant without more being said. She loved me, especially on this day.
    "I love you, Jane."
    "Before you go... when was the last time that you went to church? Hopefully not Christmas time with me."
    "Christmas time with you."
    "Shame on you. Promise me that you'll at least stop by one today."
    "Let your communication be, Yea, yea; nay, nay: for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil."
    "At least you pay attention while you are there... so what will it be? Do say yea."
    "I'll at least look at a church today."
    "I want to be sure that you are right with God."
    "God and I are doing fine," I stated, blankly.
    "Okay," She sighed, "Goodnight, my sister."
    "Goodnight."

    'God and I are doing fine,' I thought the words as I looked at the church but I could not convince myself to believe them. I loved the Lord but grew jealous of him. He had my brother and I did not. He took him and would not give him back. I knew God to be fair and just but how was this fair and just to me?
    It was worse when I considered that perhaps God had not taken him but, rather, my brother fled life and ran to God. I made myself sick with envy.
    I didn't go inside the church. I was unclean. My handbag was heavy with a new bottle of whisky, packs of cigarettes, allergy medication and a phone that rang and rang and rang...
    Church held saints. Adrian was a saint with his glowing skin, full parted rose lips and halo of longish dark hair. He read those ancient Biblical books and took the passages to heart. It could be heard in the music of his voice, trapped on my ringing phone's message box, curious as to why he hadn't heard from me in almost forty eight hours.
    By the third curious message that he left me, he seemed to answer the question himself,
   
    "I'd imagine that you're terribly busy."

    I didn't erase his messages, though I knew that I had no intention of calling him back.

    I spoke only what was scripted and nothing more, locking myself in my trailer during down time and between takes. I sat beside the portable record player on the table and listened to the three 45s repeatedly as I popped allergy tablets and drank whisky from a paper coffee cup, waiting for the knock on the door that requested that I stand beneath bright light and pretend to be someone else.
    I wanted to be someone else but someone who didn't please anyone.
    I lit up a cigarette.
    Just as I had concluded that I was worthless, stagnant and trapped by this disease that my brother had bestowed upon me (Eugene killed himself but I was the one who was crazy); my phone rang.
    "Hello?"
    "Happy birthday, my sister!"

***




***

    Holly's father was at one point one of the most powerful producers in Hollywood. Holly grew up around some of the entertainment industries key players. Actors, actresses, writers, producers, studio heads, costume designers, agents, managers, etc-- Holly, herself, wanted to grow up to be an actress. When Holly was nine, her father talked to one of his fashion designer friends about Holly's ambitions. The designer thought that Holly was a beautiful child and offered her a modelling campaign for his line of children's clothing. She was pictured everywhere from magazines to shopping malls to buses to billboards to popcorn bags. She continued with her dreams, took on more modelling jobs, bit parts in movies and at one point she had her own sitcom on the Disney Channel that ran for twenty-four episodes. At nineteen years old, it appeared that her star was only going to get bigger and brighter until one night when she met a twenty-four year old radio station intern, Adam. She fell in love with him almost instantly. They were married within three months of their meeting and she gave up full-time acting. Her father bought them the huge house that they lived in as a wedding present. Every once in a great while Holly would take a modelling job or guest appearance on a television show but mostly she was a housewife.
   
    This was not to say that Holly was a stranger to fame. If there was a charity event, fashion show or awards ceremony, she was most assuredly sent an invitation or on some kind of guest list.
   
    After all, Holly Mitolo was a socialite.
   
    That's why I was only slightly surprised to find her waiting in my trailer on a Friday night to tell me that I would be accompanying her and Adam to the Academy Awards on Sunday.
   
    Holly didn't seem upset that I hadn't been returning her calls or spoken to her since the housewarming party. She figured that I'd had a good reason for it and I would explain myself when I was ready. She kept apologizing to me for the way that she acted the morning after James Davis' going away party and said that she'd had some time to think about how she wasn't my mother; she was my friend. She told me that she trusted that I wouldn't keep anything from her because I hadn't in the past. Then she grabbed her purse, gave me a hug, told me that she would meet up with me first thing Sunday morning so that we could get ready together and left.
    She didn't ask me about Adrian, Christian or the movie. I think that she was worried that if she pried at all, I would push her further away. It was a good thing that she didn't ask because she wouldn't have been happy about any of the answers that she got to those questions.
    I had meant what I told myself about not seeing Adrian again. I didn't have the nerve to tell Adrian that so I evaded any attempt that he made at contacting me. I ignored his phone calls and text messages. If he had stopped by my apartment, I wouldn't have known about it because I was staying at Christian's house. I figured that after awhile Adrian would give up trying and I wouldn't have to explain myself.
    I spoke to Christian on the phone at least once a day but the conversations weren't long due to the distance. I began receiving postcards and packages from him in the mail almost everyday that he was gone. I received records, a book about The Fall, a vial of perfume and a rosary. I was falling in love with the distance and the idea of Christian.
    Noah was nearing his end with me. Though I was showing up and doing my job, I reeked of cigarettes and whisky. A lack of sleep was also obvious and I had stopped communicating with anyone between takes. I spoke what was scripted and nothing else.
    I made a point of not thinking about Eugene. I took the picture of us off of my car visor and hid it in the glove compartment. I wouldn't speak his name out loud. I was interviewed by some girl who had a music 'zine and when she asked me if I had any siblings, I told her that I had one, a sister.

***

    Holly was at my apartment at seven A.M. Sunday morning with wardrobe, a hefty looking make-up case, donuts, the makings of mojitos and Sara in tow. I'm not sure how she convinced Sara to help with the Oscar preparation but I was happy to see her, it meant that the conversation wouldn't have a chance to get too heavy.
    "We're going to drink mojitos at seven in the morning?" I asked with lifted brow. Holly had dropped all of the items she was carrying to the living room floor and went to the kitchen straight away in search of drinking glasses.
    "Yes, on a Sunday morning when we should all be in church," She replied.
    Sara shrugged, "What's the difference between this morning and what you do every morning? Rum is lighter."
    I glanced over at her. Sara hadn't said it in a mean, argumentative way; she almost said it very matter-of-fact.
    "What's she talking about?" Holly looked at me but pointed to Sara.
    I was quiet. Sara took it upon herself to fill in the blanks,
    "Audrey has come to work smelling like Jim Beam himself every day this week. Noah is probably having a hemorrhage as we speak."
    "Audrey that's disgusting," Holly held up the knife that she was cutting limes with, "Explain yourself."
    I shrugged, "I think Sara did a pretty good job of explaining it."
    Holly groaned, "Please don't tell me that this is about Christian?"
    I shook my head, "It's not about Christian."
    "I told you that he was trouble."
    "It isn't about Christian!"
    "Adrian?"
    "No, it isn't about Adrian."
    Holly was confused to no end, "Then what?"
    Eugene. Eugene. Eugene. Eugene. Eugene.
    "I'm just home sick."
    "Home sick?"
    "Yeah."
    "Huh?" She didn't believe a word that I was saying.
    "Is that hard to believe?" I asked her.
    "I find it hard to believe seeing as how you have only been here a couple of weeks. You have spent more time on tour and away from Seattle than you have in L.A. I think that there is something that you aren't telling me and I don't understand why because we have always been honest with each other. Haven't we?"
    I nodded.
    "I have never known you to be a boozer so I find everything that Sara is saying to be almost as unbelieveable as everything that has come out of your mouth." 
    I sighed, "I'll get better, Holly. I promise."
    "I hope that Noah knows that," Sara said.
    "I'll get better," I repeated myself, this time to Sara.
    "Starting today?" Holly asked.
    I bit my lip, "Starting right now."
    "Really?"
    "Really, really," I insisted.
     Holly jumped up and down excitedly.
    "I have the biggest surprise for you. You'll cry."
    She ran over to the couch and grabbed the wardrobe bag, very slowly she unzipped the bag to reveal an elegant black cocktail dress. The skirt of the dress was puffed, it looked to be about tea-length and the cut was elegant. The fabric felt rich between my fingertips.
    "Ta-Dah!" She exclaimed, beaming, "This is what you're wearing to the Oscars."
    I was speechless, "It's wonderful."
    "Do you know what this is?" She persisted.
    "A pretty dress?"
    She shook her head, "This is more than a pretty dress. This is thee Givenchy dress that Audrey Hepburn wore in Sabrina. I tried to get the Givenchy dress that she wore to the Oscars in 1954 but it was a no go. What do you think?"
    "I think that you're joking," I found what she said to be even more unbelievable than my exaggerated drinking problem.
    "I'm not," She said in all seriousness.
    "Where did you get this?" I panicked a little, "I can't wear this."
    "You have to wear it. I borrowed it for you. I know some people-- well, my father knows some people. Don't ruin it or else he'll have to pay those people twenty to forty thousand dollars for it. And if you do ruin it, let's shoot for twenty."
    It's weird to be a woman and how something as silly as a dress can make you well up.
    "Why would you do this?" I asked her in such a way that made me feel like I was begging her for an explanation.
    "Because you're my best friend," was her answer. She brushed my hair with her hand, "And I'm going to make you a huge star."

***

    Audrey Hepburn was a very thin woman. Very thin. I tried the dress on as soon as Holly handed it to me. I could hardly breathe.
    "No donuts," She said as she zipped me in, she appeared perplexed, "No food. Not so much as a cracker."
    I frowned, "Maybe I shouldn't wear the dress."
    "Don't be dumb, it looks beautiful on you," Holly reassured, "It isn't wrinkling up or anything. It fits you just right. Can you move in it?"
    I tried to swish a little bit and nodded, "As long as I stand up straight."
    "Are you sure that you can stand up straight all night? You normally have awful posture," Holly informed me. Sara nodded her agreement.
    "Well, now I'm self-conscious," I felt my shoulders slump forward. Sara straightened them.
    "Don't be. It's just a lack of self confidence," Holly explained, "You'll out grow it."
    "I'm in my late-twenties? It might be a little late for me."
    "We could tape a ruler to her shoulder blades before she puts the dress on," Sara suggested in all sincerity, "It'll hold her posture."
    Holly scanned me for a moment as though she were honestly considering the idea then shook her head, "It won't be necessary. The dress fits fine. Audrey will stand up straight or else I'll poke her in the back with a fork."
    "That works, too," Sara agreed, "Maybe she should try sitting in it?"
     Sara must've seen my annoyance at being referred to as though I weren't there because she rephrased the question,
    "Maybe you could try sitting in it?"
    I sat without so much as a broken thread. Both Holly and Sara seemed pleased.
    "Do you have any jewelry?" Holly inquired.
    "Sure," I got my jewelry box and brought it to her. She examined each piece individually then closed the box.
    "None of these will work," She told me.
    "What's wrong with them?" I asked.
    Her face contorted as she tried to put it gently, "They aren't-- real. You need stones, classy stones. I know just the place."

***
    The jeweler was hesitant.
    "Please, Mr. Hoffman," Holly whined. He gave me a sideways glance like he were trying to size me up and ignore that I existed all at the same time. I took a sip of the mojito that Holly put into a to-go coffee mug.
    "I'm sorry," He addressed her in a whisper as though I couldn't hear him, "There isn't very much left. It's the biggest night of the year and I have to save my pieces for actual names."
    "She has a name," Holly spoke loudly, "It's Audrey Moriarty."
    "I don't know any Audrey Moriarty and though I'm sure that Ms. Moriarty," He gestured towards me,"is a lovely woman, I have to save my pieces..."
    "For actual names," Holly finished his sentence. She rolled her eyes, "Mr. Hoffman-- Henry-- I rarely ask you for favors. I'm a very low maintenance customer. I know that this is short notice but I could really use your help now. We," she motioned between herself and me, "could really use your help now. I can assure you that your pieces will be well taken care of and respected. Audrey is a dear friend of mine. My father adores her and knows, absolutely knows, without a doubt, that she is going to be a huge name. An actual name. Now what do you say? Can you help?"
    He took a deep breath, "What will Ms. Moriarty be wearing?"
    Holly smirked, "Well, Mr. Henry Hoffman, it just so happens that Ms. Moriarty will be wearing thee same black Givenchy cocktail dress worn by Audrey Hepburn in the 1954 film Sabrina."
    Mr. Henry Hoffman's old brown eyes widened, incredulously. He took a good hard look at me.
    "Have you heard of that funny old movie, Sabrina, Hank?" Holly quipped with a wave of her hand, "I mean is Audrey Hepburn an actual name?"
    He materialized a smile, focused all of his attention on me, and reached into the glass case, "I think that we have something for you, Audrey."

***

    Sara did my hair in a small messy beehive a'la Brigette Bardot. Mr. Hoffman provided me with diamond earrings and a multi-strand diamond bracelet. I slid into the Givenchy dress for a second time that day. I was ready to go with the addition of black high heel shoes and a black pocketbook.
    "I now feel like I am going to the 'motherfucking prom'," I beamed. Holly was madly rushing around trying to get her things together. She slipped on her shoes, clasped her necklace and handed me the bottle of rum.
    "Here drink this, prom queen. Your date awaits," Holly told me. She herself swigged off of the bottle when I was done. Sara hairsprayed a piece of Holly's coif.
    "Date?" I questioned.
    She feigned forgetfulness, "Oh, I didn't tell you? Hmm... weird."
    "Who is it?"
    "I don't have time to explain," Holly said, "Sara would you be a dear and grab the door?"
    Sara pantomimed being a doorman. She took off her imaginary hat and bowed for us. When Holly and I were halfway down the stairs, Sara called out,
    "You kids have fun at your big awards show! I'll just stay here and clean up! Okay, goodbye!"
    I felt sort of sorry for Sara. She seemed like she probably would have enjoyed going far more than I would have.
    Towards the bottom of the stairs, I could see the limousine. I knew that I must've been in some sort of dream. Only, I wasn't sure whether it was a good dream or a nightmare.

    Once inside the car, I saw Adrian dressed in a three-piece black suit. I closed my eyes for a moment and took three deep breaths before sitting beside him.
    "Hello prom date," I greeted, pushing aside any old feelings.
    "Hello," Adrian said as though nothing were up, "I brought you a corsage."
     I chuckled as he pretended to pin an invisible corsage on me, "It's lovely. Thank you."
    "You look gorgeous," Adrian told me.
    I must've glowed after he told me that because he said,
    "Are you feeling okay? You're sort of flushed?"
    "I'm fine. Holly and I have been drinking."
    I looked over at Holly and Adam, then I stared out the window. It was hard being there with Adrian, knowing that I had avoided his calls and that I had hoped never to see him again. I tried to sit perfectly still. My palms were sweating, my stomach was flip-flopping. I knew inside of myself that I was crazy about him. It didn't feel bad. It wasn't conflicted. It wasn't confusing. It was actually kind of easy. I couldn't tell him that because I couldn't admit it to myself. It would change everything. I tried even harder to convince myself that I was in love with Christian.
    Adrian knew Audrey Moriary from Seattle and Audrey Moriarty living in Los Angeles and it didn't phase him. Audrey Moriarty from Seattle didn't even know Audrey Moriarty in Los Angeles and she was completely phased by it.
    "You're so quiet tonight-- everything alright?" Adrian inquired.
    "I'm--fine," I repeated myself, "I've never been in a limo before. My mom drove me to the prom."
    "I didn't go to the prom," Adrian said.
    "Will there be dancing?" I asked.
    "For you-- I would dance," He said, sweetly.
    I folded my hands over my heart. I was trying to push my feelings back into my ribcage.
    "Don't do that!" Holly scolded, "You'll get your hand oils on the fabric!"

***
   
    The next several hours were the most boring of my existence... and I'd driven across Texas multiple times before.
    After going through security, dealing with the crowds and yelling-- the posing for photographs, the inquiries from people that didn't even know who I was or what right that I had to be there-- flashbulbs and the rushing from one spot to the next-- we were ushered into plush seats in a place that was considered optimal for the televised production to pan over to someone of Adrian's status.
    I fantasized about claustrophobia and seeing the world through a windshield. Pajama Jeans on international flights with Sky Mall magazines and all the booze that one could drink until the band was cut off for being too rowdy.I thought about about interesting plots super eight films.
    I was also thinking about bars and venues back in Seattle. Independent movie theatres and my friends. My real friends who I could hug, throw back a couple of beers with and talk about what new bands we hated because any new band was a bad band, obviously.
    I pretended that Adrian was in Seattle. In the rain, in the gray, in the cold, wearing a coat, going to shows and buying records.
    But Adrian was warm like the sun. He had his fortress, his movie career and his friends.
    The most interesting thing to happen all awards ceremony was that Spencer won an Oscar for Best Screenplay. He pulled the index card with his speech from his suit jacket pocket and cleared his throat.
    "I'd like to thank a traumatic childhood, Camel Wides cigarettes and the Mac book that crashed every time things were starting to get good."
    Spencer lifted his golden statue in the air as he exited the podium. Adrian was the only person in the place who gave him a standing ovation.
     Very few people got the joke.
    "Are you still awake?" Adrian whispered as he took his seat.
    "Barely," I murmured, "I'm sorry I didn't return your calls."
    "It's okay," He spoke out of the corner of his mouth, "This is almost over-- then the fun can begin."
    Adrian's "This is almost over" actually went on for another hour. At one point he tilted his head back, looked at the ceiling and exhaled loudly. Holly told him to behave himself.
   
    I recognized the actor who leaned over me to tap Adrian on the leg. I didn't know him by name and I had not seen a single one of his movies but I knew his face. I had been haunted by it on internet feeds, magazine covers at the 7-11 check out and even the ocassional muted entertainment news program as I flipped through channels.
    Of all of the young actors in attendance, he was by far the most famous in the place.
   
    "Adrian, we're leaving," The actor spoke softly, "The seat fillers are going to take over. Would you like to come with us?"
    Adrian looked over at me, "Audrey?"
    I looked over at Holly. She gave me a thumbs up gesture and mouthed something about wanting me to have fun.
    "Please," I answered.
    The actor gave me a nod, "There's a car waiting."
    He grabbed the hand of the actress that he was with and escorted her through the aisles.
    Adrian offered me his arm and we followed closely behind them.
    In the car, we shared a bottle of champagne.
    The actor loosened the button on his suit jacket.
    The actress hung on his arm and shot me cool, catty looks.
    It was taken for granted that we didn't know each other and introductions were skipped. That's why it was embarrassing when he called me by name.
    "I've seen your film, Audrey," The actor began, "It pleases me to see that you've moved to Los Angeles and are doing studio work. Especially with Noah. This town could use a film with integrity."
    "I make films with integrity!" The actress declared. The actor looked annoyed. We all ignored her statement.
    "Thank you," I was in awe, "You saw my film?"
    He sipped his champagne, "Adrian took Spencer and I to see it. There's still money that can be made off of that movie. You should shop it around before Noah releases his film. It could help him out in the end." He turned to Adrian, "You should give Audrey my number. I'd like to help in anyway that I can. Give her my personal number."
    The actress scowled.
    "Really?" I asked him.
    "Yes," He replied, modestly, "I like your film. I'd like to work with you someday."
    "And do you think that I could ever afford you for a film?" I asked him with a smile.
    "It wouldn't be polite to divulge," He lifted up his glass, "Cheers."

***

    I was starving by the time that we reached the party and I didn't care who saw me stopping every waiter with an hor d'ovre tray.
    The expensive actor's words had me thinking. If I could somehow convince Noah and the studio to delay the release of his film-- I could buy myself enough time to shop around Severence, release it, do press for it and maybe if I got extrememly lucky, it would boost Noah's movie, making Noah's movie my big movie. I could be safely home in Seattle within two months rather than upwards of a year stuck in the prison cell that was Los Angeles.
    "Do you think that what your, uh, friend said was correct? I could convince a studio to release Severence?" I asked Adrian between ingesting crab cakes. We both grabbed champagne as the waiter passed by.
    "I might be biased but Severence is my favorite film. It's good. You won't have a problem selling it," Adrian explained, "We just have to make sure that you get everything that you deserve from it."
    Many things were said in his one statement that I wanted to ask multiple questions about. I chose the one that stuck out the most.
    "We?"
    He smirked, "That is-- if you'd like my help?"
    "You should get a percentage, like an agent or manager. Is it ten or twenty percent?"
    "It's nothing," He said, "I have a lot of free time and I'm between projects-- you know-- unemployed. I'd like to spend as much free time as I can helping you."
    "I'm not a charity."
    "I want to spend as much time as I can with you," He corrected.
    I had to keep myself from saying anything.
    Spencer whooped and hollared, pushing people out of his way as he came up behind Adrian and picked him up several inches off of the ground. Adrian's champagne glass slid from his hand and shattered against the ground in a spectacular crash.
    Adrian struggled himself to his feet and turned to hug Spencer. Spencer slipped and arm around me and pulled both of us to his chest.
    "I won an Oscar! Woohoo!" Spencer cheered," Best fucking screenplay! Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Spencer released us and caught his breath, "Honestly, I could give a flying fuck. Fuck these awards! I got the citizenship award in high school, too! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! CITIZENSHIP!!"
    "Congratulations," I told him, "On both awards."
    "It's heavy as fuck, though," Spencer passed me the award, "Here, hold it."
    He was right. It was heavy. I did a bicep curl with it.
    Adrian put his hand on Spencer's shoulder, "How much have you had to drink tonight, already?"
    "TOO MUCH!!!" Spencer yelled.
    Adrian winced with a chuckle. People around us were looking back over their shoulders in disgust.
    "Look, Ad, look," Spencer continued, "I got one of these hip-hop guys to give us a ride in his private jet to Las Vegas. Tonight. Like, now. So you and me and Gillian and Audrey and whoever else are going. We're all going!"
    "A hip-hop guy?" Adrian asked, "Which one?"
    Spencer shrugged, "I don't know. I don't listen to hip-hop. He just congratulated me and asked if I wanted to go hang out."
    I was puzzled, "Wait, so you want me to get into an airplane being owned and, possibly flown by, a guy that none of us knows-- and over state lines?"
   
    Spencer looked at me and, once again, shrugged. Adrian mimicked Spencer's gesture.
   
    "I won an Oscar," Spencer stated.
   
    I paused, "Okay. I'm in."