Work Text:
Eddie
By ecknick
So take Eddie.
There are two versions of him. In fact there are many, but I am only relating two possibilities here.
Eddie has a crucial flaw. Flaws are habits, tendencies, grooves learned from mistaken paths of the past.
Eddie finds himself at the crossroads of a divisive decision. That's later, and involves an attraction to two people in his life whom he cares for deeply.
Eddie is seventeen, devastatingly beautiful; handsome is inappropriate. He undulates into a room, piercing it's atmosphere with a brilliant smile, beacon in a face of dimpled cheeks, unusually bright black eyes. Looking at him you know his flaw is not physical. He is ideal, proportioned perfectly and gives off a vibe of paradoxic innocent deviltry, staring into his prey, touching, winning then with a shake of his head, launching into the lightest of maniacal laughter.
Eddie has been modeling for a year and may be about to come into his own, whichever way you look at it. Today he is walking into a high school gymnasium peopled with bright decorations, streamers, banners, class of 2000 glitz and other sixteen-seventeen year olds in prom attire, projecting glitter and ego with an array of shattered, fulfilled, promising and hopeful dreams.
*
There are many versions also of Robert. Here we consider the zenith mystic- where he is at the time of the prom as young as he is, tall, slightly gaunt and inhabiting the paradox of the mystic, a sense of displacement , towering inside of a beauty as yet undiscovered of himself. Eddie circles , applause rising, and Robert looks into his eyes for a moment and feels a pang of jealous admiration, and an instant understanding of many things. Robert is thin , dark and slightly gaunt, sensing his discovery has been discovered.
*
Sydney. At the moment there is only one Sydney. She is a popular queen of all things High School and Pop culture. She is driven but without a sense of real purpose, directed in her drive towards the superstar trend, by fallen icons to come. Open to change?
*
Robert in the exchange of eyes between himself and Eddie, has seen the look many times before, with the novelty this time of a discovery. It is a look of confusion or contempt or curiosity. Colored with a respect for the irresistible draw of the unknown. Nick sees the look in Eddies eyes and for the first time sees something new- inclusion
Robert an immigrant student for a month now in the American high school where he feels no sense of belonging, is a loner not befriended by many in spite of an almost spiritual, academic brilliance, is awakened now by this moment of discovery.
The stereo is playing "Smooth Operator", a sophistry of jazz ballad style mellow keyboard sound interspersed with a lush, leading alto sax coupled with the smooth, rich voice of Sade Adu.
Sydney is dancing with Eddie now, an image, a scene out of a glossy page, who's who of worldly glamour ,her coiffed blonde hair, her ultra-red lips in a coy, confident smile, her arms snaked and mobile around a dazed- as if by a reflection of his own gifts-Eddie- dazed and slightly tense- a shaky confidence now- a tremor in the way he guides her around with turns, moving with an automatic control, an unconscious leading, searching beyond what he knows and what he anticipates.
"Eddie are you cold?" Sydney asked, putting her arms on his folded hands, a bristling sort of attitude in his look, his sharp black eyes squinting somewhat making him look like an exotic and very beautiful mixed oriental.
"I got my SAT scores last week," he said
"They were really good."
A moment passes, as a Boyz 2 men track envelops the room of young ardor and closeness, the two oblivious looking into each others eyes, off to the side. Eddie buttoned his tux' jacket and folded his arms again, drawing into himself.
"College is off though," said Sydney, her voice velvet against the muted sound of the ballad, so tucked away into the corner,"You're not the only one with good news. She finished.
"Did you get something," said Eddie.
"Well yes I got something. Earth to Eddie, I got a call back."
"Oh."
Eddie turned and his eyes connected with Roberts at the end of the room. Eddie smiled.
"Well, don't you want to know what it is?"
"I'm moving out of my parents house soon."
"Well then that's perfect. I'll be Molly Ringwald, Christy Turlington and you..."
I know you want me to say John Travolta."
"Well you were great in our 'Grease'."
"College makes sense though."
"That's not what we decided."
"I'm still deciding."
"How about us though. That was the plan-you and I- big in Hollywood."
"Am I really that good of an actor? To be in movies?"
"With your talent, you could snag a drama scholarship. It's what we talked about."
"Its what you talked about."
Sydney paused, her eyes like flashes of blue lightning-lit skies.
"Eddie how can you say that? What's up?"
"Nothing. Come, let's enjoy this. We can decide this later."
He leads her to the dance floor. Another slow one is playing -"On My Own"- by Patti Labelle. Both are serious and quiet in the lack of a former glamorous display. Many couples are on the floor moving like so many brides and grooms atop an enlarged marble wedding cake.
*
Sydney is at the punch bowl looking lost. Eddie has just gone to the end of the room, where Robert is brown and handsome with the gifts which biraciality give him, he is a masculine version of Halle Berry in the strictly male sense.
Eddie looks toward the crowd of teenagers with a relaxed, excited confidence, glancing now at Robert.
They are together at the helm of a large Yacht, looking towards the sunset splendor of a golden city on the horizon, their bodies golden and glinting suns melting with such cool, comfortable calm as Eddie turns to look at a reciprocated turn of smile.
"Hi," he says. "You're Robert aren't you?
"You know my name."
"Top of the class, sure I know you. No date?"
"No date yet."
"My date is a pain tonight."
"Problem?"
"What to do after high school."
"Acting, football, baseball, honor student.........yes I see your problem."
Eddie smiles.
"My girls an actress. She wants the same for me."
"And you?"
"Maybe I am looking for something new."
"New as in what?"
"New girl. New life."
"Your girl is beautiful. Do you love her?"
"Yes."
"Then you should go with her."
"What would you do?"
"I would be sure of who I am, before I made any important choices."
A pause after which he adds: "Not that I'm sure of me."
Eddie: "There is another dilemma on my hands."
"Dilemmas are trouble. Sometimes they turn out OK though."
"I can't decide."
"Can you tell me what it is?"
"I can't"
The two stare into the distance. The yacht meets the port of arrival at the golden city, the two are greeted by seers, bearded and gracious, knowing, and as casual as though the rarity of embarkation and arrival at this port were common as their very presence is rare.
*
A large yellow and green room. A large framed poster of a movie ad depicting a ruthlessly debonair and evil carnally expressed depiction of it's male star in an expensive business suit, the blonde bombshell embracing his ankles in a suggestive, squatting position. In large letters superimposed THE STOCK SCANDAL; the poster dwarfing the large room.
Eddie is sipping a glass of a $500 bottle of wine. On the clear glass table elegant black coasters, vodka, vermouth and fancy motifed bottles of wine are its embellishments.
Sydney drifts in naked except for a pair of short leather pants. Her face shows subtle signs of induced aging especially in red wrinkles around her eyes. She sits by the edge of the table, pouring cocaine onto the surface out of a small plastic bag and deftly separates lines and then rolls a one dollar bill.
They are quiet in a deafening silence.
They are the who's who out of a page- a glossy, glassy, glittering sparkling white page Hollywood chic.
Noone is smiling.
*
Robert bursts in on this scene, he is wild-eyed like a black prophet who has survived the wilderness of temptation, fire blazing in his eyes, bearded and with a marked fury in his alacratic demeanor, obliterates the liquor into shattered pieces on the floor with a clean sweep of his hand.
Sydney's arms fall off and she is suddenly a pagan, a Greek statuette, a myth.
Robert, tall, haggard ruggedly handsome, startling fiery hazel eyes fixed, accusing Eddie who is on the threshold of intoxication.
"Eddie, Bruce Springsteen sings of a deal with the devil in 'Tunnel of Love'!"
"Robert!"
"The stray cats are racing with the devil on their song!"
"Robert! Let me speak!"
"Whitney Houston is singing 'would have sold my soul to have you back again' on 'Learned from the Best',"
"Robert who are you?"
"I am. I am you"
"Death Robert. Life is death."
"Is this what you want?"
*
Sydney is worshiped for all posterity as broken beauty.
Telepathy of visions pass between the two men.
Eddie makes a decision. Robert smiles out of his past forgotten dreams of golden cities.
END