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#V:Sweethearts of the Silver Screen
theheadlessgroom · 2 years
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“I...I’d like that,” he confessed-to think, he once sought to escape New Orleans and go to California to start fresh...and now here he was, wanting to leave California and get away to New Orleans for a while! But no, it did sound rather nice, to leave town and enjoy a quiet vacation, just the two of them. It seemed very romantic, and the perfect escape from their woes here in Hollywood.
Randall was just about to suggest spending the night together again (he didn’t want to be without Emily that night, and would be fine staying at her home, or her staying here) when the front door opened and in stepped Dorian, looking pleased as punch as he entered, carrying a shopping bag with him-he was wearing a different suit than the one he’d left the house in; Randall figured it was the new one he’d gone out to purchase.
Dorian, again, looked to be on top of the world as he entered, smiling and whistling cheerfully as he shut the door with his foot before catching sight of his best friend and his sweetheart on the sofa together, looking forlorn as they held one another comfortingly: Clearly, he hadn’t heard what happened, as his brow furrowed in worry as he asked, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“You don’t know?” “Not at all-what happened? Are you two alright?” he asked, setting aside his bag as he approached, at which Randall sighed heavily before saying, “Pull up a seat, Dorian-we’ve got a lot to tell you...”
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theheadlessgroom · 2 years
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@beatingheart-bride
Randall wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep; all he knew was that he awoke with a dull headache as he sat up upon hearing Emily’s voice-for a moment, he was confused, and half-wondering if he was dreaming, before he remembered the key he’d given her not that long ago. Trying to shake off the dregs of his impromptu nap as he pushed himself up and off the bed, Randall stumbled out of the bedroom and into the hall, peering downstairs to see Emily, sure enough, standing in the living room.
“E-Emily?” he blinked, surprised to see her: He wasn’t sure if he should take her appearance in the house as a good thing or a bad thing, honestly, and he had so many questions because of it. Had she been allowed to keep her job? Would they have to break up? Would she even want to see him again, after all of this?
His heart skipped a nervous beat at this thought as he hurried down the stairs to go to her side, eyes wide and searching as he asked, “A-Are you alright? H-How did it go with M-Mr. Davis?” 
He swallowed hard, mouth and throat dry as he asked this, a little afraid of the answer. If she was allowed to keep her job, he was sure there’d be certain rules she’d have to abide by...they’d probably have her under even tighter restrictions from now on, to ensure that nothing like this ever happened again...he winced at the thought, and he squeezed her hand as he nervously took it in his.
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theheadlessgroom · 3 years
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@beatingheart-bride
“I dunno,” he replied with an idle shrug, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as he added, “I-I think you’ve got a right t-to complain too.”
Sure, she had all those wonderful things, lots of lovely clothes and a big beautiful house and plenty of toys to play with, but that didn’t change the fact that she had been largely robbed of a childhood, thanks to her parents’ control of her, them keeping her in what sounded to him like a gilded cage. She had all these pretty things, but no freedom; it seemed like she was supposed to be content with this cage, a life spent in looking outside, longing for a chance to get away and be free.
At least, that’s how it sounded to Randall, but he didn’t dare say this aloud, not wanting to be rude. Instead, he just took solace in the fact that Emily was still able to raise her head high and move on from what happened, looking on the brighter side of things. She didn’t let it get her down, and he had to admire that-she refused to let others completely get her down, be it her family or Nicholas. She may bend a little beneath their pressure, but she refused to break.
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theheadlessgroom · 3 years
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@beatingheart-bride
Paradise was the best way that Randall could think to describe the movie theater; an oasis in the middle of a raging sea, a little slice of heaven to escape to. As soon as the lights went down and the music began, he felt as though he were swept away, carried out of his theater seat and into the world of the silver screen, where anything seemed possible, no matter how fantastical it sounded.
And how wonderful it was to sit with someone else, and experience these wonders together! More often than not did Randall go to the theater on his own, but as fun as that was, there were times when he wished he had someone to go with him, someone to share in the adventure with. Thus he felt so happy to have Emily beside him: Even though no words were exchanged between the two of them as they sat together, hand in hand as they were engrossed in the film before them, he knew she felt the same way that he did, enraptured by the beauty and power of film, and the comfort it brought. They were on this adventure together, an adventure far beyond the bustling streets of L.A. and the fast-moving world of the set, and it was wonderful.
And yet, all too fleeting, he found, as he came back down to Earth as the picture drew to a close, and the lights came back on, slowly fading back in to illuminate the showing room with pale, golden light. He exhaled in wonder, before looking to Emily, remarking, “What a picture!” Had she been just as blown away by it as he had been?
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theheadlessgroom · 3 years
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@beatingheart-bride
“M-Me too,” he grinned, as they took their seats on this bench, the wood warmed by the California sun that shone down on them, even with the bit of shade provided by another one of the park’s trees. Admittedly, he hadn’t been sure of what he’d do for Halloween this year, having been so wrapped up in the big move to L.A. to really consider it; at most, he figured he’d probably pass out treats to trick ‘r treaters and read something appropriately spooky, but the idea of dressing up with Emily and showing off their costumes to their friends sounded perfect to him.
Randall smiled to himself a little as he imagined it: Dorian throwing a house party for the holiday, inviting their friends over for fruity punch and ghost stories and sweet treats, with all of them dressed in their best costumes, with his and Emily’s being the stand-outs in a friendly competition between the six of them. He could just see all of them having a ball together; dancing and telling stories between sips of punch and bites of candy.
Seized by curiosity for a moment, Randall turned to Emily and asked, “Did you ever have a favorite Halloween costume?” It seemed to be her favorite holiday, and he wondered if there was one costume-whether it was worn as a child or an adult-that she held in high regard above all others.
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theheadlessgroom · 3 years
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@beatingheart-bride
“Lucy’s...dead...”
It had struck a chord with Randall, when he first read of Lucy’s taking ill, and how she continued to get worse, no matter what the others tried to do for him. Topics like that-of incurable illnesses and the pain that came from them-were uncomfortable to him, deeply so, getting under his skin in a way few horror-related things did. He hadn’t told Emily, but the whole plot of Lucy being ill, wasting away in a quiet agony, felt all too real to him, haunting him more than the Count ever could.
For a brief minute, as he sat there, he found himself back in the old apartment in New Orleans, sitting by his mother’s bedside as she lay there, sick with fever. He could see himself sitting on a stool by the bed, holding her hand as she tried to fight against the fever that would ultimately take her. It had been a hopeless fight, despite all he tried to do for her-even with the glimmers of hope he held onto during it all, they were all too fleeting as reality came crashing in.
In the blink of an eye, he was back in California with Emily, trying to swallow the bitter truth that Lucy was dead. His face had paled a little, his throat suddenly dry as he was seized by a quiet sadness, the pit in his stomach cold and unpleasant. He knew at heart that it was silly to get upset over a character in a book, but he still couldn’t help but shed a few tears for her.
But as he wiped them away, he wondered, ever so briefly: Were the tears for Lucy... …or for his mother?
He didn’t dwell on it too long as he quickly brushed away the errant tears, replying, “I...I was afraid she’d...she’d die. I didn’t want to believe it, but...I-I had a feeling she would.”
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theheadlessgroom · 3 years
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Now there was a question: What was playing at the nickelodeon right now? Sure, The Unholy Three was still out and likely still running, but from his last skim of one of his movie magazines, there were plenty more new releases to look forward to, like Harold Lloyd’s The Freshman and Buster Keaton’s Seven Chances. Charlie Chaplin’s The Gold Rush was likely out now, and he’d heard buzz about a big epic called Ben-Hur storming theaters at some point soon...
But it was no use in speculating; Randall supposed the best way to find out what was playing was to either check the newspaper, or go down the picturehouse itself and see what was on the marquee. He wouldn’t be opposed to either option; he was sure checking the newspaper would be much easier (seeing as they could just pop it open and look), but there was something so relaxing about driving down the streets of L.A. beside Emily, the air whipping through his hair as they cruised together, talking as they passed through the main drag, on their way to their destination.
“Well, which would you like to do?” he asked curiously, propping his head up as he looked to her, adding, “Would you, uh, want to look at the paper first, o-or would you rather just, uh, drive down and look at the marquee? E-Either way’s fine by me, honestly.”
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theheadlessgroom · 3 years
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@beatingheart-bride
Now that was a good question: What was his favorite thing to have strawberries in? Although his younger self would happily take them in any and all forms (according to his mother, as a little’un, he loved to have a bowl of them with some milk, or a loose whipped cream she’d make with heavy cream, sugar, and vanilla), he found other applications that he felt were even better the older he got, particularly where pastries were involved.
“I think,” he began, after giving it a little bit of thought. “I think m-my favorite is, uh, strawberry shortcake: My, uh, my ma, she’d make it for me for my birthday; y’know, she’d put slices of the berries in the batter, and even put them in the frosting, f-for that extra strawberry taste, y-y’know!”
Even when he got to be an adult, June Pace insisted upon surprising her only son with a strawberry shortcake, lovingly baked and decorated by hand, always taking care to pipe Happy Birthday, Randall! on it before gingerly placing the candle on it. Even when he felt as his most down and out, such cakes were a little bright spot for him, and he always gave her an appreciative kiss on the cheek as he thanked her.
“B-But I also love strawberry preserves,” Randall added, as he took another bite. “T-There’s just, uh...something really nice about fresh preserves on a-a piece of toast or a-a muffin, e-especially in the morning!” The bright, sweet taste dancing on his tongue was always a good way of getting his day off on the right foot, he felt.
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theheadlessgroom · 3 years
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@beatingheart-bride
Randall bowed his head bashfully at this, his own cheeks turning bright pink as he smiled lightly at her gratitude, unsure of what to say. Instead, he opted to let his body do the talking, squeezing her hand lightly when she took his in hers, his way of telling her that he felt the same way, until he found the right words to reply with.
“I-I don’t think i-it’s silly,” he replied, still trying to keep a handle on his stutter as he spoke. “N-Not at all. I...I know we haven’t know each other all th-that long, b-but...I-I’m so glad that...that we met, a-and that, well, w-we’re together now. Y-You’ve really, uh...y-you’ve really l-livened up m-my life, Emily!”
It was the truth: He was used to a very staid existence, getting up and going about his day, working himself to the bone until he managed to drag himself home and get something to eat before flopping into bed, with the next day promising the same thing. He didn’t get out much, only to the theater or the grocery store, really-all in all, it was a very boring life he lived in New Orleans, and he felt Los Angeles would be no different.
And yet, thanks to her, that was all turned upside down: He felt like his life had been opened up more, that he had more to look forward to now, whether it was going out with her on a day like today, or having her over for dinner and to spend the night, or to go to her house for a pool party, his life was so much more exciting than it had been before, and he was grateful for it. She was a much-needed ray of sunshine, a fresh change that livened him up so wonderfully. He couldn’t (and didn’t want to) imagine a life without her in it now.
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