Time To Pretend

Chapter One: Black & Blue

Poetry, beauty, romance, love- these are what we stay alive for.
That's what she would always tell him.
Poetry, beauty, romance, love.
He didn't believe it at first. He thought she was just saying words that meant something to her. That was when they first met. She walked up to him in her Norma Bates dress, a radiant smile on her face. He thought she was strange. Beautiful but strange. The way she talked to him like she knew him. Like she had known him for years. He had never met a woman quite like Vera Farmiga.
"Poetry, beauty..." he repeats back, questioning her.
"Romance and love." she finishes for him.
"Aren't romance and love kind of the same?" he asks. A look of shock crosses her face as if no one had ever questioned her mantra.
"No. Not at all. They're cousins. Romance is a feeling of mystery that is often associated with love. But love itself is...it is the feeling you have when you think of another person. When their happiness comes before your own. You don't need romance to be in love. But at the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet." she explains.
"And these are the reasons we live?" he asks.
"Well can you think of another?" she asks. He thought about it. And he had been thinking about it ever since. Here they are, a year later, and still, no other reason to live.
And that's when he understood that she was all of those things. She was poetry. He didn't see it at first but the more Nestor knew of her, the more he saw it. The way she talked and the things she said could be written out into a book and be classified as poetry. She was truly a poetic person who had overcome a troubled past. And from a broken heart comes great poetry.
She was beauty. This part of her was not so hard to figure out. It was very obvious to the eye that she was a beautiful woman. It's the inner beauty that is not visible until getting to know a person. And once Nestor knew her inner beauty, her outer beauty became even more apparent.
Romance and Love. It seemed to radiate from her very being. Everyone around her felt her love and returned it willingly. She was loved and adored by everyone who looked her way. To be near her was to love her. It was like she had an aura around her that attracts people. Especially Nestor.
"Where are you?" she asks curiously, glancing his way, pulling him from his thoughts. He smiles softly and shrugged.
"Not sure." he replies simply.
"Well come back. It's almost your scene." she says. He looks around and notices everyone setting up for his scene. It was a simple scene, not a lot of dialogue. He is arresting a man who is accused of killing Blaire Watson. All he has to do is tackle him. Nothing too difficult.
That's what he thought at least.
After about four takes of Nestor tackling the kid to the ground, the directors still weren't satisfied with the way the two men hit the ground.
"Try something more violent. You look too graceful." Kerry Ehrin says.
"Too scripted." Carlton Cuse adds with a nod. Nestor resets, glancing back at Vera who is casually whispering to Freddie as they sit in their chairs, waiting for their scene.
"Action!"
Nestor glances around the room again, his gun in his hand. The stunt man jumps from the upper level, cueing Nestor to run after him. As he runs out of the house, he trips in a hole in the ground, causing him to fall. As he flies to the ground, a sharp pain enters his right calf, making him shout in pain. He grabs his leg, pulling it to his chest while he grits his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut to keep from crying.
"Nestor?" Freddie asks.
"Oh my god!" Vera says, running to him. The crew surround him while Vera kneels in the grass, trying to help.
"Call the on set paramedic." Kerry says to someone.
"What's wrong? What is it?" Vera asks.
"My leg." he breathes out, his teeth still planted together. He lets out a groan as another wave of pain hits his leg.
"Here, help him up." Kerry says. Vera and Freddie grab each of his arms, helping him stand up without putting pressure on his leg.
"Get him to the chair." Carlton says. They help him hop to the chair and sit down. The paramedic walks toward him with his medical bag. He smiles at Nestor while he sets his bag down.
"Hello Mr. Carbonell. I'm David. Are you a fan of these jeans?" he asks. Nestor's brows furrow in confusion.
"My jeans?" he asks. David nods. "I guess not."
"Good. That makes my job easier." David says, cutting his jeans away to reveal a large purple bruise on Nestor's calf. After about half an hour of a painful examination, David stands up.
"It looks like you've torn your calf muscle. Just a small minor tear. You will need to ice and elevate it as well as compress it daily. Rest as much as you can and I will need to stretch you starting in three weeks to prevent reoccurrence." David explains, wrapping his muscle.
"I'm fine. It doesn't hurt that bad anymore." Nestor says, trying to get up. Vera grabs his shoulder, pushing him back into his chair.
"You'll need these." David says, handing him pain killers.
"I'm fine-"
"Don't be heroic. You'll need them." David says, putting the medication in his hand. Nestor smiles in thanks and David walks away.
"You're good for today, Nestor. We can work with what we have." Kerry says with a smile.
"I can try again. I'm fine-"
"Don't be silly, Carbs." Vera says. "You need to heal, not run and tackle a man."
"Guess I'm not 18 anymore, huh." he says with a smile. She smiles back, squeezing his arm.
"Need help back to your trailer?" she asks.
"No I'll be fine." he says, standing up. He winces in pain as he puts pressure on his leg. She grabs his arm, helping him to his trailer anyways, making him smile.
"You're stubborn." he says, earning a surprised look.
"Says the man who almost refused pain killers for his torn calf muscle." she says, unlocking his door. She helps him into his trailer and slowly lowers him to sit on his couch.
"I'll make some tea." she says, going into the kitchen. As she looks through his cupboards for tea packets, she is surprised to find them empty.
"It's above the stove." he says, watching her move through his kitchen. She grabs the packet and begins making the tea.
"Why don't you have any food?" she asks.
"Never have the energy to make food. I usually order takeout." he says, examining his swollen leg.
"You and Alex have that in common I guess." she says, grabbing an ice pack. She walks to him and hands the ice pack wrapped in a towel to him. He lifts his foot to rest on the coffee table and sets the ice on his calf.
"Can't believe I tore my muscle." he says, rolling his eyes at his clumsiness.
"It's more common than people think." she says, trying to ease his mind.
"You're not old and you're not unhealthy. Don't beat yourself up over this." she says, smiling at him.
"Alright." he says, watching her move to pour the tea. He drinks it with a smile as the warm liquid runs down his throat. Tea was her answer to every problem she crossed. It was what she did.
"Thank you." he says. "You can go back. I don't want to keep you from your job and get you in trouble." he says.
They look at each other for a moment before bursting out in laughter. Vera could never get in trouble. They adored her too much.
"I think they'll understand if I stay." she says.
"Unless you don't want me here." she says, quickly getting up with embarrassment.
"No, no." he says, grabbing her arm. "You're fine. I would like it if you stayed."