❝if reassurances could dull pain, nobody would ever go to the trouble of pressing grapes.❞
──scott lynch, the lies of lamora

keanu 
life update: i think i'm losing my mind trying to understand a woman. 

sandra
i never thought i'd see this day! 🥳

keanu 
i'm glad you find this amusing, sandy 🤨

sandra 
i do! you're like a puppy waiting around for doctor hottie. 

keanu 
i can't wait around her anymore.

we're almost done with filming then it's back to LA. 

sandra
so?

tell her how you feel!

keanu 
unfortunately, it's not THAT simple.

sandra
oh, keanu, at our age, love is simple 🤗

how about this: you tell her how you feel the day you leave and if it doesn't work out then at least you won't ever have to see her again and that'll spare you from embarrassment. it's a win-win! 

keanu 
i leave in three days. 

and i want to see her again──i want to see her every day. 

sandra
oh my god. are you thinking about moving in together already? are you just going to pack up and live in boston? 

keanu 
no, no, no. it's just──ah! 

i'm usually good with words. 

but i'm basically a monkey when it comes to articulating my feelings for her. 

sandra
we're also forgetting the fact that she's your co-star's sister so wouldn't that be awkward?

keanu
technically, skeeter and i met through our own terms. 

sandra
you see, it's the fact that we didn't mention a name in this conversation yet she's the one on your mind. 

i don't know about you but that tells me you have some pretty strong feelings for her. 

keanu 
you think so?

sandra
was that sarcasm? 

keanu 
yes. 

sandra
🙄

i'm surprised you're not soaking up your possible last moments with her 🤭

keanu 
she's at her father's house 

sandra 
i see 🤓

and before i forget, happy birthday, keanu! the kids and i baked a bake for you. 

keanu 
thanks, sandy! 

was the cake chocolate? 

sandra
yes! 

keanu 
perfect!

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Skeeter's fingers expertly weave the needle and thread through the cloth, the stitched version of the Mickey Mouse only half-way finished. The room was quiet apart from her father, William Evans, and his nursing aide, Kelly, conversing after they had dinner while a glass of wine sat next to Skeeter.

"So. . ." Skeeter started off, "You called your children here to have a fake funeral?"

At her sharp tone, Kelly had left the room with a knowing that the conversation that was about to take place would be a familial matter. Elizabeth Evans had sent a screenshot of their father's text message to their family groupchat and one by one the siblings had said that they were unsure if they could make it. Their father wanted to hear their eulogies if ever the time came when he died because──as he put it──what was the point of saying all those speeches if he wasn't around to hear them?

"Yes, little witch." He flashed her a smile, "I have five children and six grandkids yet only one showed up." William's blue eyes scanned over her tired features and he continued, "And, she showed up despite being the top surgeon at one of the busiest hospitals in Boston. You were always my favorite, Skeeter, you know?"

Scoffing, Skeeter placed the stitching pad down and crossed her arms, jaw clenched and her nose scrunching up. "And, why couldn't my dear brothers and sisters make it?"

She knew why. Elizabeth was working over-time, Ruth was going to be attending some soccer match, Chris had a party to attend to, and Scott was simply in LA working. It was all up to her to show up with food even though she had been hoping that her nieces and nephews would make an appearance so the event wouldn't be so sad. She had asked her dad the question because she wanted to know if they gave him some other bullshit excuse. They didn't.

"You know what I think?" She said and took a sip of her wine, "I think they just don't want to be here because they can't accept the fact that you're having a fake funeral."

"Yes. There is that, my dear."

"And it's bull-"

William narrowed his eyes at her. "Cordelia Anne Evans."

"It's bull-crazy!"

"I'm not sure that's a word."

She sighed, "It's bull-crazy because you're not going to have a funeral anytime soon, pa. Doctor Dyer said that your heart's arteries are still──"

William raised his hand as if he was a traffic cop. "I can't handle doctor talk."

Skeeter huffed. "Okay, fine. But, you're not dying anytime soon so this whole thing is crazy and pointless!" Towards the end of her sentence, she had stood up and raised her voice. She rarely raised her voice unless it was a serious matter. She started to gather her bag and jacket and stomped her way towards the front door of her father's beach cottage.

"Little witch?"

"What?!" She whipped around to find a soft smile on her father's face and his hand patting the seat next to him. Rolling her eyes, she went back and sat down. He placed his arm around her shoulder and gently brought her body to snuggle into his chest just like he had with all her other siblings when they were younger.

"Did you have a bad day?"

"No."

"What's bothering you?"

"Nothing, pa."

He hummed and patted her head. "You know, little witch, for someone who gives out so much love every day──whether it's to her patients or family──you really have a hard time letting it in." When Skeeter opened her mouth to protest, William continued. "Yes, you do. You didn't even tell your damn family about what happened. We could've helped you."

Skeeter closed her eyes. Tears had started to form but she wouldn't budge. She wasn't going to cry over that stupid fiasco ever again. "Dad, can we please not talk about that?" She pleaded, eyes peering up at him. "I'll tell you what's wrong if we don't."

"Hm. . .okay. What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Shifting away from her father's embrace, Skeeter slumped back on the chair and hugged her arms around her torso. "I just. . ." She could feel her throat tighten and liquid spring into her eyes, "I feel lonely sometimes."

"Oh, Skeeter, darling, it's ok──"

"No, it's not okay, pa." Skeeter whimpered, her lips trembling. "Everyone is getting married and everyone is having kids but what about me? I'm turning forty and I don't──" Her breath hitched and a couple of warm tears had fallen on her cheeks. "I don't even have someone who'll just hold my hand and tell me that everything is going to be okay."

Her father's assuring words didn't work──not when she was full on sobbing into his chest and making his cotton shirt damp. It had been a hard and long day. The thought that the only reason why she was even able to attend this fake funeral was because she had no one. Charlie and her weren't on speaking terms yet and even then he would be busy packing and spending a night with his husband. Cynically, Skeeter guessed, this one night was a of cementing the fact that she would end up alone. 

"Okay, okay." Skeeter managed to say as she wiped her cheeks, "I cried it all out. I think I'm good."

Her father rubbed her back soothingly. "You sure?"

Drowning her glass of wine and pouring another, she replied. "Yeah. Good. Good. I think Chris did a dick move though."

"And, why is that, little witch?"

"Who skips their father's fake funeral to attend a fucking party?"

The way William could she was going to be tipsy was when she poured herself another glass of wine. The way William could tell she was furious was her cursing. Right now, Skeeter was both tipsy and furious. 

He discreetly grabbed the wine bottle and chuckled. "It's okay. I told him to attend that 'fucking' party anyway. It was for that Keanu Reeves fella. Your brother is surely geeking out right now."

Skeeter shot up from her seat, squaring her shoulders and blinking her eyes rapidly. Without another word, she placed her wine glass on the coffee table and practically sprinted to the terrace with her cellphone in hand. William simply shrugged at her actions. 

Guess she sobered up. 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

SKEETERSAURUS IS CALLING!

ANSWER | DECLINE 

"Hey you." 

"That was fast." 

"That's what
she said."

"I believe the kids
say title of your
sextape nowadays." 

"I'm not a
kid. I'm a
man."

"I know. You're
the birthday
man."

". . ."

"Happy Birthday,
Chuck! How's
the party?"

"Well. . .it's a
party and I think
your brother is tap
dancing even though
Eminem is playing."

"Embarrassed but not
surprised. I'm sorry I
couldn't be there──
not like I was invited
or anything but──"

"Skeeter, if you weren't
invited, I'd still want
you here even if it
meant I have to carry
you in my pocket."

"Ooohhh, you're speaking
Chandler Bing to me.
You're on fire tonight."

"You okay,
Skeeter?"

"Yep. Why?"

"You don't
sound okay."

"Eh. . .I guess I got
carried away with the
wine. Anyway, considering
we've been friends for
three months
now──"

"Four."

"The night we met
doesn't count, Keanu.
Considering we've been
friends for three months
now, will you tell me
your secret to being
immortal?"

". . .No."

"Okay then.
You should've told me
that it was your birthday
 today. I could've baked
you a cake or something."

"Skeeter, you
don't know
how to bake." 

"I could learn!" 

"With your
work schedule?
No chance."

"True. How about
I buy you a beer tomorrow?
You know, a goodbye and
birthday present all in one."

"Y──yeah. Sure."

"You okay?"

"I'm fantastic." 

"Hm. . .okay."

"Zion's?"

"Nah. I'll find
some other
bar."

"You and Charlie
still not on speaking
terms?"

"You could
say that."

"Sooner or later,
you and him need
to talk this out,
you know?"

"I choose
 later."

"Sounds ominous
but okay."