;; 004
Huge, capt. Fine bulge-sized, thanks to 1297 ♥
title taken from Anoraak, go listen to them :)
never ending romance disaster
by me.
Zach/Chris. 2,842 words.
There are two things about which Chris is 100% certain about: iced-lattes are God's gift to humanity, and he absolutely hates grocery shopping with Zach.
It's not that Zach goes at 8am on Saturday mornings, or that he has a pre-planned order in which to get said groceries. No. It's the fact that he has to drag Chris to this tiny organic market where there are no Doritos or Ben and Jerry's. Nothing a normal person would eat.
That and he takes forever choosing his tomatoes.
Zach is squeezing avocados while Chris wanders around the fruit section, picking up a handful of cherries from the tasting platter. It's the third time he's gone over for cherries, which should say something about Zach's produce choosing technique.
"Why can't you just buy this shit online?" He asks, spitting a seed into his hand. "I know this website. Click, pay, delivered the next day."
Zach just rolls his eyes, like Chris has said the most stupid thing in the world.
"Besides, these tomatoes are tiny."
"They're organic." Zach says as he picks one of the cherries from Chris' hand.
"Fuck organic. Let's get real fruit. Real big-sized fruit."
Zach moves closer to him, like he is going to do something completely inappropriate. Right in front of the whole market. "Size isn't everything Chris, you should know that."
He takes a step back. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." He says as he pats Chris' shoulder.
;;
There are some days when Chris feels like he is some kind of dirty housewife. Zach goes to film his stupid show and he is left behind in his apartment, rearranging his books or cleaning the mess Noah makes sometimes. He could go to his own place, rearrange his own books, but that would take the fun out of it.
Some days he likes to try and make Zach stay in bed with him. It's not something he succeeds at, but so far he's managed to make him 30 minutes late.
"We shouldn't be doing this." Zach says between moans and kisses.
Chris looks him, straight-faced. "Doing what?"
"Kissing, I'm going to be late."
He un-buttons Zach's pants. "Oh, but this isn't kissing," he says before pulling them down.
"I'm serious Chris. Stop," Zach says while Chris ignores him and takes his shirt off.
He places his hand on his cock and puts the right amount of pressure. "Just shut up." And Zach does, he doesn't say anything else, at least not in words.
He feels dirty and guilty but it doesn't matter. After all, Woody Allen once said sex is only dirty if it's done right.
;;
Zoë is a Hollywood girl, whether she likes to admit it or not. So it only makes sense that her birthday party is in one of LA's trendiest clubs.
The are paparazzi are all over them as they walk into the club.
Chris! Chris! Over here!
Zach! Zach! Is it true that you're you are dating Hayden now?
Chris wants to punch them. He wants to yell obscene things, but Zach is staring at him. Calm down, his look is saying.
Zoë is out somewhere on the dance floor. Alternating her dance moves with clicks of her camera, taking photos as evidence of a night she probably won't remember. All of her friends are there, celebrities and non-celebrities, all getting drunk like there's no tomorrow.
It's not that Chris and Zach don't enjoy the big Hollywood lifestyle, it's just not their scene.
Instead of going to the dance floor and singing whatever pop song the club is playing they're sitting in a small booth, drinking some girly drinks Zoë ordered for them. They play a game of guessing who's high on blow and who is just retarded. Both covered in a cocoon of smoke coming from their cigarettes. They're in their small little world. Zach has his hand on his leg, under the table, of course, so nobody can see. His other hand pressing a cigarette to his lips.
"I'm getting tired," he says through the ribbons of smoke circling them.
Zach smiles at him. "Oh don't be such a pussy. Let's go dance. I know how much you love Britney Spears."
He hates Britney Spears. "C'mon. I want to leave," he leans a little closer to Zach. "If we go, I'll let you fuck me wherever you want."
Zach makes a shh noise, and Chris smiles. "Don't worry, no one can hear me but you." Right as he says it Zach responds by pressing his thumb deeply into his inner thigh and smirking.
"C'mon I want to go home. Let's go home."
Zach gives Chris a deep genuine smile, like he is happy. He is happy that Chris is referring to his place as home. Chris smiles back at him and that's when it happens; he sees the flashing white light go off. When he turns Zoë is there, almost tripping over the table.
"I'm going to frame this and give you each a copy," she says before she takes Zach's cigarette and disappears into the crowd.
They both laugh and finish their drinks in one long sip. "Let's get you home, Captain."
;;
His mother calls every now and then to check up on him. She understands he is busy with work and that most 30 year old men have better things to do than hang out with their mothers. Not to say he doesn't enjoy spending time with his mother.
She calls on a Wednesday, when he is on his way to Zach's for dinner. She explains Katherine and her family are stopping by and he should come by as well. He tells her about his plans and she insists he brings Zach as well.
His family doesn't know about his little arrangement with Zach, because that's what it is. For all they know Chris is sleeping around with half of LA. The female half of it. Except for Katherine, who once opened the bathroom door at a rather unfortunate time during his birthday dinner. She'd never said anything about it. Not to him and most definitely not to their family.
"So there's no Thai food tonight," he tells Zach once he gets inside the car. "We're going to my parents."
Zach gives him a wide-eyed look. "Oh wow, you should've said something. I would've worn another tie."
He leans forward and grabs the back of Zach's neck, pulling them close, and kisses him. "You look fine."
They share a nice meal of lamb and mashed potatoes. It's much better than whatever noodle dish Zach was going to make him try at Sompun.
He's trying to remember the last time he brought someone to his parent's house, when he's interrupted by his sister. She walks out to the patio holding two beers and hands one to him. He is looking inside, smiling at Zach helping his mother clean the dishes. Katherine is looking at them as well and then she turns her head and smiles at Chris.
He doesn't say anything. Neither does she. Instead, they sit outside and drink their beers in silence.
As soon as he walks inside he notices the silence between Zach and his mother. They're sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea, and it's obvious that they've stopped talking because he entered the kitchen.
"We need to split, Mom." He places both hands on Zach's shoulders. "Early day tomorrow."
The drive home is quiet, almost silent if not for the sound of The Beatles coming from the radio. It's nothing out of the ordinary, there's been plenty of silent drives between them. It usually means Zach is annoyed or trying really hard not to sing along with the radio because he knows Chris hates it.
As soon as he turns off the ignition Zach opens his mouth. "Why did your mother ask me about my girlfriend?"
Oh. He'd almost forgot that his mother had asked him if Zach and his friend Sarah were together a couple of months ago. He'd said yes, because it was much easier than he's gay and I fuck him at least once a week. It was a stupid white lie, one he was going to take back when the time was right. Oh, that's what Zach must have been talking about with his mother before he interrupted. Oh!, fucking hell Zach told his mother the truth.
"What did you tell her?"
Zach pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. "What did I tell her? That's what you are worried about?"
That's not the only thing he is worried about, but right now knowing what was said between him and his mother is the priority. But he doesn't say anything back; he doesn't know how.
"I told her the truth."
He can feel his chest tighten as the words leave Zach's mouth. He can feel his heart rate go up and his throat closing. He needs air, and a cigarette. He gets out of the car and looks for his lighter.
Zach gets out of the car, calm and serene like this isn't a big fucking problem. "I told her I'm not seeing anyone at the moment."
There's guilt in the way he feels relieved. He doesn't need his family to know about his private life. Most of all, he isn't ready to tell his parents, or anyone, because he isn't sure himself what this is. Zach is gay, he's known all his life. Chris on the other hand, as far as he knows, is still attracted to girls and only girls. With the exception of Zach.
"Look man. She just assumed and I--"
Zach takes a couple of steps toward his door. "Forget it, I really don't care," he says before going inside his apartment. There is nothing in his voice. No sadness, no regret, no doubt, no melodrama.
Chris knows he should get Zach, but he just can't. There's just something about this suddenly being over that makes him think it was for the best. His plans weren't: star in a blockbuster movie, get domesticated with your co-star, move to Amsterdam and become Mr. Zachary Quinto.
He gets into his car and drives around until he is out of gas.
;;
A week goes by and Chris finally gets the courage to drive over to Zach's and pick up his things.
Going inside his house almost feels foreign. A week ago he was thinking of this place as an extension of his own. Now, this was just someone's apartment.
Noah greets him with loud barks, tail wiggling from side to side. Before starting to look for his belongings, he gets the dog's bowl from the cabinet and fills it with food. He makes sure Harold's litter box is clean, and refills his water. He is almost on his way to sitting on the couch when he realizes what he is doing. He no longer lives here, these are no longer his pets.
Quickly, he starts looking for his things. Everything is exactly where he'd left it. He grabs the pair of shoes he'd left under the couch. He takes a plastic box from Zach's office and fills it with his t-shirts and pyjama bottoms. He unplugs his computer and takes his pillow. All the mutual stuff he leaves behind. All the books, the CD's, the bright green gorilla ashtray, the matching coffee mugs they never used get left behind. They aren't just objects anymore. They're souvenirs of something, whatever it was, that he does not want to know anything about anymore.
He sees the photo they took at Zoë's birthday, both of them smiling at each other. It was only taken two months ago, but it feels like years have passed. He has the urge to destroy it. To punch through the glass and crumble the photo, but he doesn't. He takes one last look at it and turns away from the living room.
Before leaving he runs to Zach's closet and grabs one of his hoodies. The black and white one, because he knows it's his favorite. He's not going to wear it, he's not going to smell it every night before he goes to bed. No, he's not a fan of the drama. He takes it as his last fuck you.
On his way out, he drops both his key and Zach's hoodie into a dumpster.
;;
"You look like shit," he hears Beau say as he sits next to her. She is all smiles and sunshine, something Chris had always resented her for; her ability to have so much energy at such early hours of the day.
They play catch up. He tells her about his new project and she talks about her plans to take on a role in the next Gerard Butler comedy. The conversation just flows. They might never have seen eye to eye on many things when they were together, but Beau has the ability to talk with him about everything. No topic was ever too boring.
"So how's Zach?"
Chris almost chokes on his coffee. "Good... I guess."
She puts her hand over his, like she's comforting him. Like she just knows something has happened. "So you guys broke up?" The question seems to be over before it even starts, almost like he expects this sort of thing to be asked.
"We were never together." He says, which is true. He doesn't remember asking Zach to be his boyfriend. Things just sort of started happening and then they stopped. There was no break-up, just a big fuck off.
She doesn't fight back, she doesn't say you were totally a couple, man up to it! because that's not her style. Instead, she replies to him with sarcasm rolling from her tongue. "Bummer. The only reason I broke up with you was so you two could finally be together." Which is not far from the truth.
He changes the subject from his personal life to the different kinds of bagels they've been serving at LaMill for some time now. They talk about the weather and Beau's dog Sofia when she has to leave. "It's a shame about you two," she says between goodbye hugs. "Even when I was so in love with you I could see you were a better match with him." She runs her hand through his hair and Chris smiles. "That's because you and I were a disaster."
;;
The funny thing about time is that it slows down and picks up without letting you know.
The first three months had been agony. Chris tried really hard not to bump into Zach, which had been far more difficult than he'd thought. There are only so many places you can hide from someone who lives in your neighborhood.
But now things are different. He's back into his usual routines, he's doing a movie with Denzel fucking Washington, he doesn't go antique shopping anymore, he buys his groceries online.
He keeps platonic relationships with the people he cares about, and sexual ones with the ones he doesn't. He's not making that mistake again. Things go back to the way they were before Zach, and Chris doesn't remember being miserable before they met. Life goes back to normal.
;;
There's shock in his face when Zach walks into the bar. Of course he's there; all the cast is because as soon as they got the call that there was a script, Zoë insisted that they meet.
He shouldn't be surprised, but he is.
Karl moves his chair and makes room for him, right in front of Chris.
When Zach sits down there's an awkward silence between them. Everyone else is laughing and drinking while Chris is just sitting there, looking at his empty bottle of beer.
Zach takes a sip from the beer Karl shoves his way. He doesn't say anything either and all Chris wants is for time to speed up again.
He knows he should say something, anything, but all he can think of is saying 'I'm sorry'. It may be a little to late for apologies, but that's all that he has to offer at this point. He takes a deep breath and looks at Zach. "I'm sorry. I know I should've--" He doesn't say anything else because he still doesn't know what he should have done that night.
"You still an idiot?" Zach asks quickly, like he just knows Chris isn't going to elaborate on his apology.
"Yeah, I think so."
There's a tiny smile at the corner of Zach's mouth. "Hey, at least you're being honest now."
Chris doesn't say anything back, and they both get sucked into a conversation with other people. They're talking about the movie and speculating about the script when Zach turns around and looks at him, really looks at him in the only way he knows how to.
"Are you ready to do this all over again?"
He doesn't know if he's talking about the movie, or something else. It doesn't matter, the answer is the same. "I don't know, dude. I hope so."
title taken from Anoraak, go listen to them :)
never ending romance disaster
by me.
Zach/Chris. 2,842 words.
There are two things about which Chris is 100% certain about: iced-lattes are God's gift to humanity, and he absolutely hates grocery shopping with Zach.
It's not that Zach goes at 8am on Saturday mornings, or that he has a pre-planned order in which to get said groceries. No. It's the fact that he has to drag Chris to this tiny organic market where there are no Doritos or Ben and Jerry's. Nothing a normal person would eat.
That and he takes forever choosing his tomatoes.
Zach is squeezing avocados while Chris wanders around the fruit section, picking up a handful of cherries from the tasting platter. It's the third time he's gone over for cherries, which should say something about Zach's produce choosing technique.
"Why can't you just buy this shit online?" He asks, spitting a seed into his hand. "I know this website. Click, pay, delivered the next day."
Zach just rolls his eyes, like Chris has said the most stupid thing in the world.
"Besides, these tomatoes are tiny."
"They're organic." Zach says as he picks one of the cherries from Chris' hand.
"Fuck organic. Let's get real fruit. Real big-sized fruit."
Zach moves closer to him, like he is going to do something completely inappropriate. Right in front of the whole market. "Size isn't everything Chris, you should know that."
He takes a step back. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." He says as he pats Chris' shoulder.
;;
There are some days when Chris feels like he is some kind of dirty housewife. Zach goes to film his stupid show and he is left behind in his apartment, rearranging his books or cleaning the mess Noah makes sometimes. He could go to his own place, rearrange his own books, but that would take the fun out of it.
Some days he likes to try and make Zach stay in bed with him. It's not something he succeeds at, but so far he's managed to make him 30 minutes late.
"We shouldn't be doing this." Zach says between moans and kisses.
Chris looks him, straight-faced. "Doing what?"
"Kissing, I'm going to be late."
He un-buttons Zach's pants. "Oh, but this isn't kissing," he says before pulling them down.
"I'm serious Chris. Stop," Zach says while Chris ignores him and takes his shirt off.
He places his hand on his cock and puts the right amount of pressure. "Just shut up." And Zach does, he doesn't say anything else, at least not in words.
He feels dirty and guilty but it doesn't matter. After all, Woody Allen once said sex is only dirty if it's done right.
;;
Zoë is a Hollywood girl, whether she likes to admit it or not. So it only makes sense that her birthday party is in one of LA's trendiest clubs.
The are paparazzi are all over them as they walk into the club.
Chris! Chris! Over here!
Zach! Zach! Is it true that you're you are dating Hayden now?
Chris wants to punch them. He wants to yell obscene things, but Zach is staring at him. Calm down, his look is saying.
Zoë is out somewhere on the dance floor. Alternating her dance moves with clicks of her camera, taking photos as evidence of a night she probably won't remember. All of her friends are there, celebrities and non-celebrities, all getting drunk like there's no tomorrow.
It's not that Chris and Zach don't enjoy the big Hollywood lifestyle, it's just not their scene.
Instead of going to the dance floor and singing whatever pop song the club is playing they're sitting in a small booth, drinking some girly drinks Zoë ordered for them. They play a game of guessing who's high on blow and who is just retarded. Both covered in a cocoon of smoke coming from their cigarettes. They're in their small little world. Zach has his hand on his leg, under the table, of course, so nobody can see. His other hand pressing a cigarette to his lips.
"I'm getting tired," he says through the ribbons of smoke circling them.
Zach smiles at him. "Oh don't be such a pussy. Let's go dance. I know how much you love Britney Spears."
He hates Britney Spears. "C'mon. I want to leave," he leans a little closer to Zach. "If we go, I'll let you fuck me wherever you want."
Zach makes a shh noise, and Chris smiles. "Don't worry, no one can hear me but you." Right as he says it Zach responds by pressing his thumb deeply into his inner thigh and smirking.
"C'mon I want to go home. Let's go home."
Zach gives Chris a deep genuine smile, like he is happy. He is happy that Chris is referring to his place as home. Chris smiles back at him and that's when it happens; he sees the flashing white light go off. When he turns Zoë is there, almost tripping over the table.
"I'm going to frame this and give you each a copy," she says before she takes Zach's cigarette and disappears into the crowd.
They both laugh and finish their drinks in one long sip. "Let's get you home, Captain."
;;
His mother calls every now and then to check up on him. She understands he is busy with work and that most 30 year old men have better things to do than hang out with their mothers. Not to say he doesn't enjoy spending time with his mother.
She calls on a Wednesday, when he is on his way to Zach's for dinner. She explains Katherine and her family are stopping by and he should come by as well. He tells her about his plans and she insists he brings Zach as well.
His family doesn't know about his little arrangement with Zach, because that's what it is. For all they know Chris is sleeping around with half of LA. The female half of it. Except for Katherine, who once opened the bathroom door at a rather unfortunate time during his birthday dinner. She'd never said anything about it. Not to him and most definitely not to their family.
"So there's no Thai food tonight," he tells Zach once he gets inside the car. "We're going to my parents."
Zach gives him a wide-eyed look. "Oh wow, you should've said something. I would've worn another tie."
He leans forward and grabs the back of Zach's neck, pulling them close, and kisses him. "You look fine."
They share a nice meal of lamb and mashed potatoes. It's much better than whatever noodle dish Zach was going to make him try at Sompun.
He's trying to remember the last time he brought someone to his parent's house, when he's interrupted by his sister. She walks out to the patio holding two beers and hands one to him. He is looking inside, smiling at Zach helping his mother clean the dishes. Katherine is looking at them as well and then she turns her head and smiles at Chris.
He doesn't say anything. Neither does she. Instead, they sit outside and drink their beers in silence.
As soon as he walks inside he notices the silence between Zach and his mother. They're sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea, and it's obvious that they've stopped talking because he entered the kitchen.
"We need to split, Mom." He places both hands on Zach's shoulders. "Early day tomorrow."
The drive home is quiet, almost silent if not for the sound of The Beatles coming from the radio. It's nothing out of the ordinary, there's been plenty of silent drives between them. It usually means Zach is annoyed or trying really hard not to sing along with the radio because he knows Chris hates it.
As soon as he turns off the ignition Zach opens his mouth. "Why did your mother ask me about my girlfriend?"
Oh. He'd almost forgot that his mother had asked him if Zach and his friend Sarah were together a couple of months ago. He'd said yes, because it was much easier than he's gay and I fuck him at least once a week. It was a stupid white lie, one he was going to take back when the time was right. Oh, that's what Zach must have been talking about with his mother before he interrupted. Oh!, fucking hell Zach told his mother the truth.
"What did you tell her?"
Zach pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. "What did I tell her? That's what you are worried about?"
That's not the only thing he is worried about, but right now knowing what was said between him and his mother is the priority. But he doesn't say anything back; he doesn't know how.
"I told her the truth."
He can feel his chest tighten as the words leave Zach's mouth. He can feel his heart rate go up and his throat closing. He needs air, and a cigarette. He gets out of the car and looks for his lighter.
Zach gets out of the car, calm and serene like this isn't a big fucking problem. "I told her I'm not seeing anyone at the moment."
There's guilt in the way he feels relieved. He doesn't need his family to know about his private life. Most of all, he isn't ready to tell his parents, or anyone, because he isn't sure himself what this is. Zach is gay, he's known all his life. Chris on the other hand, as far as he knows, is still attracted to girls and only girls. With the exception of Zach.
"Look man. She just assumed and I--"
Zach takes a couple of steps toward his door. "Forget it, I really don't care," he says before going inside his apartment. There is nothing in his voice. No sadness, no regret, no doubt, no melodrama.
Chris knows he should get Zach, but he just can't. There's just something about this suddenly being over that makes him think it was for the best. His plans weren't: star in a blockbuster movie, get domesticated with your co-star, move to Amsterdam and become Mr. Zachary Quinto.
He gets into his car and drives around until he is out of gas.
;;
A week goes by and Chris finally gets the courage to drive over to Zach's and pick up his things.
Going inside his house almost feels foreign. A week ago he was thinking of this place as an extension of his own. Now, this was just someone's apartment.
Noah greets him with loud barks, tail wiggling from side to side. Before starting to look for his belongings, he gets the dog's bowl from the cabinet and fills it with food. He makes sure Harold's litter box is clean, and refills his water. He is almost on his way to sitting on the couch when he realizes what he is doing. He no longer lives here, these are no longer his pets.
Quickly, he starts looking for his things. Everything is exactly where he'd left it. He grabs the pair of shoes he'd left under the couch. He takes a plastic box from Zach's office and fills it with his t-shirts and pyjama bottoms. He unplugs his computer and takes his pillow. All the mutual stuff he leaves behind. All the books, the CD's, the bright green gorilla ashtray, the matching coffee mugs they never used get left behind. They aren't just objects anymore. They're souvenirs of something, whatever it was, that he does not want to know anything about anymore.
He sees the photo they took at Zoë's birthday, both of them smiling at each other. It was only taken two months ago, but it feels like years have passed. He has the urge to destroy it. To punch through the glass and crumble the photo, but he doesn't. He takes one last look at it and turns away from the living room.
Before leaving he runs to Zach's closet and grabs one of his hoodies. The black and white one, because he knows it's his favorite. He's not going to wear it, he's not going to smell it every night before he goes to bed. No, he's not a fan of the drama. He takes it as his last fuck you.
On his way out, he drops both his key and Zach's hoodie into a dumpster.
;;
"You look like shit," he hears Beau say as he sits next to her. She is all smiles and sunshine, something Chris had always resented her for; her ability to have so much energy at such early hours of the day.
They play catch up. He tells her about his new project and she talks about her plans to take on a role in the next Gerard Butler comedy. The conversation just flows. They might never have seen eye to eye on many things when they were together, but Beau has the ability to talk with him about everything. No topic was ever too boring.
"So how's Zach?"
Chris almost chokes on his coffee. "Good... I guess."
She puts her hand over his, like she's comforting him. Like she just knows something has happened. "So you guys broke up?" The question seems to be over before it even starts, almost like he expects this sort of thing to be asked.
"We were never together." He says, which is true. He doesn't remember asking Zach to be his boyfriend. Things just sort of started happening and then they stopped. There was no break-up, just a big fuck off.
She doesn't fight back, she doesn't say you were totally a couple, man up to it! because that's not her style. Instead, she replies to him with sarcasm rolling from her tongue. "Bummer. The only reason I broke up with you was so you two could finally be together." Which is not far from the truth.
He changes the subject from his personal life to the different kinds of bagels they've been serving at LaMill for some time now. They talk about the weather and Beau's dog Sofia when she has to leave. "It's a shame about you two," she says between goodbye hugs. "Even when I was so in love with you I could see you were a better match with him." She runs her hand through his hair and Chris smiles. "That's because you and I were a disaster."
;;
The funny thing about time is that it slows down and picks up without letting you know.
The first three months had been agony. Chris tried really hard not to bump into Zach, which had been far more difficult than he'd thought. There are only so many places you can hide from someone who lives in your neighborhood.
But now things are different. He's back into his usual routines, he's doing a movie with Denzel fucking Washington, he doesn't go antique shopping anymore, he buys his groceries online.
He keeps platonic relationships with the people he cares about, and sexual ones with the ones he doesn't. He's not making that mistake again. Things go back to the way they were before Zach, and Chris doesn't remember being miserable before they met. Life goes back to normal.
;;
There's shock in his face when Zach walks into the bar. Of course he's there; all the cast is because as soon as they got the call that there was a script, Zoë insisted that they meet.
He shouldn't be surprised, but he is.
Karl moves his chair and makes room for him, right in front of Chris.
When Zach sits down there's an awkward silence between them. Everyone else is laughing and drinking while Chris is just sitting there, looking at his empty bottle of beer.
Zach takes a sip from the beer Karl shoves his way. He doesn't say anything either and all Chris wants is for time to speed up again.
He knows he should say something, anything, but all he can think of is saying 'I'm sorry'. It may be a little to late for apologies, but that's all that he has to offer at this point. He takes a deep breath and looks at Zach. "I'm sorry. I know I should've--" He doesn't say anything else because he still doesn't know what he should have done that night.
"You still an idiot?" Zach asks quickly, like he just knows Chris isn't going to elaborate on his apology.
"Yeah, I think so."
There's a tiny smile at the corner of Zach's mouth. "Hey, at least you're being honest now."
Chris doesn't say anything back, and they both get sucked into a conversation with other people. They're talking about the movie and speculating about the script when Zach turns around and looks at him, really looks at him in the only way he knows how to.
"Are you ready to do this all over again?"
He doesn't know if he's talking about the movie, or something else. It doesn't matter, the answer is the same. "I don't know, dude. I hope so."