Sandra beats Keanu to the set this morning, the first time since they'd started to film. She convinces Bob to open his trailer. Moving toward his table, she sets down a chocolate croissant and cup of coffee. She takes a piece of paper out of her backpack and writes his name in large, cursive letters. Pausing, she traces the letters of his name with her pointer finger, noting the smooth indentation where she'd pressed the pen into the pulp of the paper. She can see him standing there, now: bare feet and track pants, skin still glistening with the hot water rolling down from his wet hair on the night she confronted him in his hotel room. Tiny bumps formed on his chest with the combination of the chill of the night and the cold temperature of hotel air. Every point of contact made as she pushed past him that night was marked like a piece of pointillism art, noted by round spots on her blouse that moistened her skin beneath the chambray cloth. She sits at the table, finger on his name and mind on the still steamy hotel room when the door handle turns without notice. It's Bob, come to warn her about Keanu's arrival on set. She jumps out of her seat and clambers to exit the trailer before he finds her, forgetting the unfinished note on the table.
He walks into his trailer, dropping his bag on the counter, before noticing the breakfast surprise. Sitting down, he takes in the scent of fresh coffee, its warmth matching the glow in his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the paper. He grasps the note like a lottery ticket, recognizing her scribble. There is nothing inside, only his name, leaving him confused and... What was that sensation? Disappointment? He shakes it off and shoves the empty note into his bag. This is just an artifact of proximity, he tells himself for the hundredth time, flaky chocolate melting in his mouth with the first bite.
A knock on the door announces Jessie's arrival from the costume trailer, holding his costume in hand. It's time to start the marketing interviews. After dressing he ambles over to makeup, and finally to the area set up for his first interview. The questions are predictable, the answers almost scripted.
*"It starts with an extortionist, a mad bomber." He's done so many of these promotional sessions that at times he feels like a robot. He describes the story without pause or stumbling until it's clear the journalist has gotten what he is after.
*"He's, um, LAPD, SWAT officer. Probably been in SWAT for about two years," Keanu continues to explain with confidence how he molded his character, Officer Jack Traven. *"He is very committed and very aggressive, likes to take action. He's a pretty solid guy. Fairly humble, polite. Likes his work, likes to climb rocks and rappel."
He is asked about Dennis Hopper and Keanu is full of admiration. He is known for heaping praise on his fellow actors, with particular reverence for those with more experience. *"He's spontaneous and so alive, and clever. He's bringing to this character a real kind of loneliness and epic tragedy, which I think is very good." The phrases roll off his tongue with ease.
"Tell me about your love interest, Sandra Bullock," the journalist continues.
*"Ahh, she's a beautiful lady. Yeah, very beautiful. Giving. And, um," he stares at the ceiling, trying to focus his thoughts. She has the type of smile that can carry you through the day.
"Uhhh, I don't know. She has a nice—" He looks down at his hands and pictures them on her hips as he guides her sway, her back towards him, her vanilla scent surrounding them both. "Nice..." he ravages his brain but all he can think of are her lips. Cheeks. Cute, button nose. Nope, no can't say that.
"Such a wonderful, um..." Think, think, think. "Energy about her. And, um, and life. And she's just...wherever she goes, I mean, she really gives and wants things to be..." He smiles to himself. "Springtime. I don't know. I've enjoyed her company immensely."
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There's a low din of background chatter in the area sectioned off for these promotional events. Sandra, Melissa and Maureen walk into the large warehouse to prepare for some photo shoots during Keanu's interview.
*"Oh yeah, and she's a really great actress, too."
Melissa beams at Sandra, who is caught up in the pin-prick redness dotting her neck at the sound of his words. Is he talking about me?
"Of course," the interviewer laughs like a frat boy talking about last night's date.
*"She is. No, but she is!" He insists, though no one is questioning his sincerity. "I mean she's, you know, again, I mean..." he continues to flounder while trying to describe her.
Drawn to his voice, Sandra steers herself in his direction. She inches closer in the shadows, straining to hear him more clearly. He continues to halt and start his words. She is astonished at his unusual lack of perfected minimalism.
He pivots the topic a bit to try to regain his composure. *"Th-the thing that's cool about this film is it's cast, really well and the actors are...really good, and, uhm..." An archaic smile returns to his face as he returns to the topic of Sandra, his eyes crinkling. "She's brought a, a very, you know, she's been fighting the, the, the direction of just being like, you know, the complete damsel in distress."
She skips up behind him, wrapping her arm around his neck and throwing herself into his lap like they're a couple of pre-pubescent kids, too shy to admit they have mutual crushes. She presses her lips against his cheek, a million butterflies released in her gut. Rapidly she launches into her class clown defense, pretending to grope him in front of the camera, laughing awkwardly.
He reflexively holds her close against him, his eyelids weighted as he relishes the feeling of her warm cheek against his jaw. The journalist has effectively disappeared as his biceps tighten around her form. He chooses her, holding one hand up to acknowledge the camera, apologizing for the interruption. *"Excuse us for a moment," he offers, not waiting for permission to return his full attention to Sandra. She stands straight, but neither release their grips on each other's arms. He takes her in from her head to her toes, trying to remember each inch. "Nice blouse!"
*"You think?" She releases her grip and looks down the front of her body.
*"It's nice!" He focuses on clothing instead of everything swirling inside of him.
*"Very cool, huh?"
A high-pitched giggle escapes him.
*"How are you?" She fiddles with her shirt, trying not to meet his gaze dead-on.
*"I'm pretty well," his voice crackles with rapture.
*"Okay," she turns and runs off faster than her approach, leaving him looking as though he might fall out of his chair.
He takes a minute to hold on to her in his mind's eye, boyish glee on his face, pink tone to his cheeks, before returning his focus to the journalist. Uninterested in hiding his enjoyment, he shrugs and says, *"Et voila." What more could he say?
Keanu shakes the journalist's hand before walking out of the camera's view. Waiting in the wings, Jeff Daniels immediately launches into the jokes. "Nice blouse," he mocks his friend and colleague.
Keanu flashes his smile and drops his eyes to his feet, shaking his head. There is no defense to offer so all he offers is a shrug as they change positions, Jeff taking his place in front of the camera.
The journalist starts off with a bang. "So what's going on between your co-stars, Jeff?"
"That's the million dollar question around here," Jeff chuckles. "Whatever it is, it's working on film so they better keep it up."
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Sandra tries to relax in her trailer, flipping through the Architectural Digest Keanu gave her a week ago. She reads the same sentence over and over but still isn't sure what it said. She smiles to herself as she replays his words.
Melissa and Maureen are at craft services, picking up lunch and discussing what they overheard. Maureen elbows Melissa and points off into the distance at a tall figure making his way to Sandra's trailer. "No way there's not something going on there," Maureen states clearly.
Keanu balances a tray full of food in one hand as he opens Sandra's door with the other. "Hungry?" He asks.
"Always, you know that by now."
He settles in, taking a bite of his sandwich. "So, are you going to that thing on Halloween?"
"The thing? The costume party thing?"
"Yeah, that."
"I don't know, probably. Everyone else is."
"What if we go together?" He tries to sound nonchalant.
"Yeah? We gonna do like a matching costume like Fred and Ethyl? Bugs Bunny and Daffy?
"Um, I don't know if I was going to do a costume—"
"Ooh, OOH! We could do Bill and Ted, I'll be Ted." She wiggles her eyebrows up and down.
His head falls to the side as he sighs, "We'll talk about it, okay?"
"That's a yes, right?"
He stands up and grabs his water bottle, walking towards the door. "We'll talk about it."
"That's a yes!" She calls out as he closes the door behind him. "That is definitely yes," she says to herself throwing the rest of her sandwich in the trash.
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*Quoted, paraphrased and inspired by actual interviews, the inferences and in-between is fiction.