Pretentious Films In The Tropics

About a week after our Lollapalooza show, Alan and I went on vacation to Hawaii. Byron and Miles were a little bit angry that Alan would be gone, but Alan insisted that he needed some time off from working on the album. Personally, I was excited to go on vacation with Alan. I would finally have some time alone with him, which I knew would be nice.

Alan and I chatted quite a lot over our six hours on the plane. "What are we going to when we get there?" I asked Alan.

"We should hang out by the beach," Alan suggested. "I've heard that the beaches in Hawaii are even better than the ones in California."

"That sounds nice," I said. "We should go swimming while we're at it."

"Sounds good," Alan said. "How long until we get there?"

"It's still another five hours, Alan," I said.

"Seriously?" Alan said. "I wish these flights would go a little faster."

"You'd need a teleporter for that, Alan," I said, laughing.

"I'm just a little impatient," Alan admitted. "I wish I could be at the beach with you right now."

"Me too," I said.

"I've missed spending time with you," Alan said.

"I've missed it too," I said. At that moment, I remembered why I had decided to date Alan in the first place. Alan may have been a flamboyant attention seeker when the paparazzi was around, but things were different when Alan and I were alone together, or so it seemed.

Even when we arrived in Hawaii, Alan continued to be strangely nice to me. When we arrived at Honolulu International Airport, Alan immediately went to a small gift shop and bought two matching leis - one for himself and one for me. "Thanks Alan," I said as I put on my lei.

"No problem," Alan said. "Come on. Let's go to the beach."

"We need to drop our stuff off at the hotel first," I told Alan. He rolled his eyes, but nevertheless, we got a rental car, drove it to our hotel and dropped off our suitcases. After that was done, we changed into our swimsuits and then headed to the beach.

Alan insisted on staying on the shore, claiming that if he was going to be in Hawaii, he needed to get a tan. "You are the last person on Earth who needs to get a tan," I told Alan. "Your skin is perfectly brown already."

"No, you're the last person on Earth who needs to get a tan," Alan said. "My skin can always be a little bit tanner. I'm just so glad that I don't burn like Byron does. You should have seen him when we were touring in Latin America two years ago."

"It's one of those perks of being non-white," I said. "We don't burn as easily."

"Anyways, you can swim if you'd like," Alan said. "I'm going to sunbathe for a while."

I ran out into the waves, enjoying the cool rush of the Pacific Ocean. Meanwhile, Alan relaxed on the shore until a teenage girl recognized him. "Oh my goodness, it's Alan Rodriguez!" the girl screamed. All of a sudden, the paparazzi descended on Alan, with nearly everyone on the beach trying to take a picture of him. I returned to the shore, trying to see what all of the chaos was about, but Alan pulled me right into the midst of it.

"Alan, let's go," I said, but he didn't listen. Instead, he reveled in the attention. Alan kept posing for the camera, trying to ensure that everyone got a good picture of him and his beautiful body. He seemed disappointed when the crowd finally dispersed, apparently ready to go on with their day.

"That was fun," Alan said, smiling. "What should we do next?"

"I've been wanting to see I Object To Pinkerton," I said. "Maybe we should go see it."

"That pretentious piece of garbage?" Alan said. "Why would I want to see that?"

"It got good reviews," I said, already Googling where the nearest theater showing I Object To Pinkerton was. It turned out to be an hour away, but it would be worth it if the cinematography was as good as the reviews said it was.

"I don't watch weird indie movies, especially not ones written by AJ," Alan said.

"Miles said it was good," Bianca said.

"I don't trust his opinion," Alan said. "He's probably biased anyways. He did write the music, after all."

"Maybe he's biased, but I still really want to see the movie," I said. "You can't judge it until you've seen it."

Alan sighed. "If you want to see it, then I'll come along, but don't expect me to like it," he said. We changed back into our regular street clothes, and then I drove the rental car to the movie theater.

"Two tickets for I Object To Pinkerton," I said when we bought our tickets.

"Are you sure we can't see something else?" Alan asked. "Ideally, I'd love for it to have hot chicks, action, or both."

"I saw I Object To Pinkerton last week," the cashier said as she handed us our tickets. "It was amazing. The plot was just so clever, and the shots were unbelievably artistic. You two will love it."

"I'm sure we will," I said as I grabbed Alan's hand. "Let's get some popcorn."

Alan, as expected, continued to complain as I bought the popcorn. However, I simply ignored him and made my way into the theater. I hoped that Alan would change his mind about the film, but I doubted that he would. Alan and I had very different tastes in movies.

I Object To Pinkerton turned out to be everything that I thought it would be. The plot was quite clever, and the cinematography was breathtaking. Although it was different from his work with Phantom Cat, I also appreciated Miles' score. It was surreal and experimental, just like the film itself, and I could tell that Alan didn't know what to make of it.

After the movie, Alan and I discussed the merits of I Object To Pinkerton. "I can't believe I watched that pretentious trash," Alan said.

"I liked it," I said.

"I don't know what you saw in it," Alan said. "It was easily one of the worst movies I've seen all year."

"You're just saying that because AJ and Miles worked on it," I said.

"Maybe, but I didn't get the plot, and the music was awful," Alan argued. "They didn't do their jobs."

"I liked the music, and the plot wasn't that complicated," I said. "You just weren't paying attention."

"Why would I pay attention?" Alan said. "That was a complete waste of my two hours."

"Why don't we go get dessert?" I asked.

"That sounds good," Alan said. We went to a nearby restaurant and sat down. After some debating, Alan and I decided to split a double fudge cake. While we waiting for our dessert, we chatted about Revelation Records. "I'm a little worried about the National Nightmare album," Alan admitted.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes," Alan said. "Their lead single hasn't really gone anywhere. That doesn't necessarily mean the album won't succeed, but it's not a good sign. The Phantom Cat fanbase doesn't seem to like them all that much."

"That's weird," I said. "Your advertising usually works."

"I'm surprised too," Alan said. "It's not the end of the world though. I'll just try to push the second single after the album comes out, and hopefully National Nightmare will take off."

"Maybe you need to expand your marketing campaign," I suggested. "They're an electropop group, so you should try to sell them to that crowd."

"Don't tell me how to market my bands," Alan said. "I'm the publicity expert, not you."

"Sorry," I said. "I'm just saying that there are other ways to go about marketing National Nightmare. I'm sure you'll do a great job though."

"It will all work out in the end," Alan said. "Even if National Nightmare's album doesn't sell, there's still our album. That's going to be a hit for sure."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"It's a Phantom Cat album," Alan said. "We have a large, established fanbase. Our album has to sell."

"You guys are pretty successful," I admitted.

"I'm more worried about National Nightmare," Alan said. "I couldn't bear to see them fail."

"I hope their album does well too," I said.

Alan and I finished our cake and returned to the hotel. We spent several more days in Hawaii, and although Alan was being unusually nice to me, I still couldn't bring myself to forgive him for what had happened at Lollapalooza. I knew that part of this was because of his constant complaining about I Object To Pinkerton, but I also realized that what he had done was unforgivable. Nevertheless, I spent the week with Alan, and throughout the week, I tried to love him the same way that I did when we first got together. After all, it was clear that Alan still cared about me, if the amount of money he was willing to spend on the vacation was any indication.

Even though I couldn't fully forgive Alan, I did feel slightly better about my relationship with him. After I returned from Hawaii, I decided that I needed to stay with Alan, for his sake and my own. I wasn't certain that it was the best decision, but Alan was the Sexiest Man Alive. I was still lucky to have him, and it would be foolish to give him up.