Caught Up With The Shadow

He almost didn't catch up with her.

Almost.

Scarlett heard him approach her before he had said a word. She turned back, suddenly icy again.

“Hi, hello,” he began breathlessly. “If this were a movie, you’d have given me your number in the time ellipses between shots.” He laughed, twirling his battered old cell phone in his hands.

Scarlett unabashedly looked him straight in the eyes.

The hope in his eyes almost faded away. As he opened his mouth, Scarlett-

“If you would like to ask me out, then ask me out properly. Even if your intentions are completely honourable and you just enjoy my company, do it like a man. Don’t hide behind the let’s get coffee sometime.”

She took a step closer to him, her eyes painfully penetrating his. But he couldn't look away.

“Be bold.” Scarlett took a deep breath and waited. This is where they all run and hide. The men today are nothing like they once were. They’re all cowards, hiding behind the “let’s be friends” or the “I don’t want anything heavy”.

“Are you always this friendly?” His feathers had been ruffled and yet he still looked… intrigued.

Scarlett was caught off-guard. For the first time in decades, Scarlett was caught off-guard. She had not lived this scenario out a thousand times before, she had no witty, deadly comeback, guaranteed to shut him down and make him go away. She was unprepared.

Scarlett let out a half-suppressed laugh. And then another, and another. She raised her eyes to meet his, finally emanating some warmth. She made no attempt to conceal the shining smile that followed.

“The thing is, if you’d like to see me again, I want to know that you want it above anything else in this precise moment. I'm not interested in a half-arsed attempt. If you want it, then show me that you do and how much.”

“Are you always this demanding?”

“I'm very demanding, yes, but this isn't it. Why would I spend a single instant of my time with someone who wasn't certain that he wanted to spend precious moments with me?”

Scarlett could see him processing her words quickly, trying to make a snap decision.

He cocked his head to the side, like he did in the cinema. Then –

“I think you’re interesting and I’d like to see you again.”

Scarlett kept her eyes fixed on him and extended a hand.

He took it with hesitation.

She blinked and through her smile, she softly said:

“Your phone.”

“Oh right. Yes.”

He handed it to her, shuffling his feet awkwardly. He looked to the ground, trying to conceal the little triumphant look on his face.

Scarlett typed her number and handed the phone back.

“Wait,” he said, as she began walking away. She stopped. “You haven’t told me your name.”

“No… I haven’t.” Scarlett smiled once more, finally turning away, and began her brisk walk to the tube station.

That was more than enough smiling for one day.

After The Second Film

“What did you think?”

His voice interrupted the post-film haze once again. Scarlett twitched with annoyance. This was one of the reasons why she went to the cinema by herself and never sat next to anyone.

After films ended, she always sat through the credits in silence, dreading the moment when the lights would be turned back on. They would drag her back to reality, kicking and screaming inside, parting once more with her true world, the reality that had been taken from her. She never liked to think about the fact that that world had never belonged to her completely. She was going to change that, once she had found what she was looking for. That would finally satisfy her and the thirst for recognition, the ultimate and sublime immortalisation in black and white. Scarlett took a deep breath.

“I think that it’s almost as disappointing as the first time I saw it.” In 1952, she silently added. “And now if you’ll excuse me-”

She wrapped her black faux fur around her neck, exposing her pale arms for a moment.

“You probably have somewhere to be, but listen-” he began, while Scarlett reached for her bag. “Give me your number, we’ll go for a pre-film coffee sometime.”

Scarlett turned around and, inexplicably, dazzled him with a smile.

“Why don’t you ring me at the end of the week and we’ll see…”

A promise lingered in the air between them. The man smiled back, surprised that he’d gotten her to gift him with a smile, and not a frosty one either. He searched his pockets for his phone, remembered something and turned to fish it out of his coat, lying over the seat in front of them.

When he turned back, Scarlett was gone.

Immortality At The Cinema

“I’ve seen you here before, haven’t I?”

The sudden flash of voice cut through the deep haze the film had left Scarlett in. As she fought to regain control over her senses, she turned her head slightly and raised her eyes to the figure standing next to the empty seats beside her.

“You have,” she replied. Her voice had an initial layer of coldness, something that was meant to put people off wanting to continue conversing with her, or God forbid, thinking she was approachable. Her British education had served some purpose after all. Distinctly unfriendly, but never discourteous.

The figure’s head bobbed in front of the light glaring from above. He must have been in his mid, maybe late twenties, longish brown hair tied up in a man bun and a tall, robust frame. He was Marlon Brando, with a modern twist.

Meeting people who reminded Scarlett of the past could have one of two effects on her. She’d drown in the few moments she’d give them of her life and then she’d spend a few hours sulking and searching for a release for her nostalgia. Usually this would materialise in the form of a mad film spree or five consecutive hours spent at the cinema. The other response was more violent and a whole lot bloodier.

This was different.

Marlon sat down next to her, his shoulder rubbing against hers. He was a lot taller than her. She liked that in a man. Errol had been about 6 foot 2.

“I think it’s one of her best performances. You know they said she went crazy after they finished it?”

“Her madness got her a second Oscar.” Scarlett surprised herself. Why was she engaging in any kind of conversation with this stranger? “That must be worth something.”

“I don’t know if I’d trade my mental sanity for an award,” he replied, still rubbing shoulders with her. The lower part of his face began twisting. She realised after a moment that he was smiling at her. A big, genuine grin spread across his face, making his eyes almost light up.

Scarlett felt herself begin to smile. She forced her lips into a slight pout, a trick she had learned in Old Hollywood. Smiling had never been fashionable. The half-pout half-smile was a gracious way of demonstrating superiority and control over one’s emotions.

“You clearly have never been famous before.”

“Have you?” He turned around to fully face her. Marlon studied Scarlett carefully, trying to understand if he had seen her before and if he had just made a complete fool of himself. He cocked his head to the side, quizzically. His eyes were a pleasant shade of Lulworth blue.

Scarlett caught herself in time.

“In another life perhaps.” Technically not a lie. I’m completely out of practice, she thought to herself. This time, her half-pout transformed into a smile. He won.

“You and me both.”

“Are you staying for the next film?”

“I am. Although nothing could top Streetcar at this point. Not even a good dose of Gene Kelly.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a Gene Kelly fan.” For the first time since he had sat down next to her, Scarlett looked at him properly. She searched for something in him, but came up empty-handed. No. He was no Flynn.

“Are you kidding? Singing In The Rain is the greatest musical on earth. I used to watch it every time it rained for a good year when I was six.” He laughed self-deprecatingly and ran a hand through his hair, raising his eyes to meet Scarlett’s.

After a few long moments, he broke the silence. “You don’t blink a lot, you know?”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

He considered his answer.

“No.” He blinked.

Scarlett looked at the blank screen in front of them and readjusted her faux fur stola around her shoulders.

His hand appeared from the side.

“I’m…”

Scarlett interrupted him.

“Tell me after the film.”

They sank into silent darkness together as the lights over them dimmed and the blank screen suddenly, joyously flickered to life again.