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It’s been months. Eliott supposes it’s time to give up.
But when Gorgeous Guy comes in at exactly seven, like he has every Thursday since summer, Eliott knows he doesn’t care how long it has been, and how little headway he has made. He just can’t let go.
Hell, he broke up with his girlfriend because he’d had to imagine Gorgeous Guy to get into a certain mood. One time he could explain, two times he could excuse, but after the third time he’d figured it wasn’t doing anybody any favours to continue like that.
He watches Gorgeous Guy’s movements like a hawk. He seems to be going for horror tonight. There’s absolutely no system to the movies he picks. He’s picked rom coms, documentaries, fantasy movies, thrillers, detectives, musicals – everything under the sun. He doesn’t discriminate against foreign movies, dubbed and subtitled both. Sometimes he picks an absolute blockbuster, or an award-winning flick, other times he goes for little-known cult gems or plain trash.
Eliott has tried to talk to him, comment on his choice of the week, ask if he enjoyed last week’s rental, hell, he even resorted to bringing up the weather. So far, all he got in return are nods, headshakes, and one-syllable answers murmured so lowly Eliott doesn’t even understand half of them.
Even Gorgeous Guy’s name has eluded him so far. Oh, he’s asked. He introduced himself, and when no answer came, he outright asked. He got a mumbled reply which he didn’t grasp, not even enough to know if the guy actually answered or politely said it was none of Eliott’s business. After that, he’d tried the long way, by attempting to get the guy to sign up for newsletters, or get a loyalty card, but all his schemes have been foiled.
But Eliott is nothing if not optimistic. As long as Gorgeous Guy keeps coming back week after week, Eliott tells himself – and fully believes – that this will be the week he gets a name. Or a number. Or better yet, a smile.
~~~
Lucas doesn’t appreciate film, as an art form, in general. He likes to watch Netflix curled up under a blanket as much as the next guy, and he tries to keep up with Star Wars or Marvel, but other than that, he doesn’t really care. He likes explosives and car races and shirtless guys, and any movie with all three will get a five-star rating from him. He doesn’t know what cinematography means, let alone that he can judge it when he stares at a big screen. He doesn’t remember the names of directors, he couldn’t care less about soundtracks and costumes and set designs, and he has no clue when the Oscars are awarded or who has ever won one.
And yet he finds himself in this DVD rental shop every Thursday.
It’s becoming stupid, really.
He’s spending money he doesn’t have on movies he doesn’t even watch, most of the time, just to see Sexy DVD Store Dude. Eliott. He only knows because Eliott introduced himself, not because Lucas asked. Oh, no. Lucas barely says a word during his interactions with Eliott. Even when Eliott is asking him questions. Eliott must think he is stupid. If Eliott even remembers him – which is not very probable, since Eliott has not introduced himself once, but three times. Lucas must be truly forgettable, if Eliott doesn’t remember he already told him his name. Twice.
Every week Lucas promises himself he will say something. Anything. He looks up interesting facts about the movie he’s supposed to have watched this week. He tries to come up with something witty about film. He even debates starting about the weather.
But every week he finds himself in front of the tiny shop, a DVD in his hand and absolutely nowhere further in his quest to talk to Eliott.
It’s time to stop the madness.
This week he will return last week’s rental – Lucas even watched it, an old black and white movie about this guy who lets the girl he loves go so she can join some war resistance movement with her husband, or something – and that will be it.
He will not get another DVD.
Operation: Seduce Sexy DVD Store Dude has turned into Mission: Impossible.
~~~
The ticket burns in Eliott’s pocket. Gorgeous Guy will appreciate it, he loves movies, he would like to go to a film festival showing all the Oscar winners from last year at Eliott’s school. He is due soon, and Eliott will offer it to him, and he will not call it a date, but he’ll ask for Gorgeous Guy’s name and number, and – and he’ll think of the next step after that.
The bell over the door pings, and Eliott looks up with his widest smile. Gorgeous Guy enters. Eliott likes to watch him shuffle through the store, pick up a DVD here and there. Sometimes he goes straight to one section and browses there until he’s found something, sometimes he meanders through the store for a while.
This time, however, he comes straight to the counter and puts down last week’s DVD. He does something weird with his mouth, mumbles something, and turns around. No new rental.
Eliott panics.
“Hey!” he calls. Gorgeous Guy stops, but doesn’t really turn around, just sort of looks half over his shoulder. Gorgeous Guy has the Prettiest, Bluest Eyes, and Eliott hardly ever gets to look at them for long enough because Gorgeous Guy keeps them on his wallet, or on the DVD box in his hand, but like this, they are so big Eliott could drown in them.
“Uh, no rental this week?”
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Obviously not, Eliott.
Gorgeous Guy seems to hesitate, dithering as if he doesn’t know what he should say, if anything.
Eliott needs to hurry, because he gets the feeling Gorgeous Guy is about to step out of the shop and out of Eliott’s life.
“Casablanca was that bad?” he tries to quip. It comes out all wrong, but Gorgeous Guy turns around just a bit.
“Uh,” he says. “No, just… Sad.”
He bites his lip, as if he has just said something dumb.
“I know,” Eliott says. “But they’ll always have Paris, right?”
He looks outside. If you stand right next to the window, and you crane your head just right, you can see the Eiffel Tower. It’s got to mean something. He and Gorgeous Guy are in Paris. He just has to get this right.
~~~
Lucas can’t believe this is what he chooses to say to Eliott, after all these weeks. A stupid comment on how sad some movie is.
But when Eliott refers to the famous line about Paris, Lucas suddenly thinks he is just as stupid as the guy in the movie. Here he is, ready to walk away. Rick at least had some reason to let Ilsa go. Lucas is just afraid.
Sure, maybe Eliott is not interested. It would make sense. But Lucas will never know unless he asks.
He turns around and walks up to the counter.
“I, uh, I really don’t know anything about film,” he says. Probably not what Eliott was expecting, because his eyes widen. Lucas presses on. “I’ve just been coming here to see you.”
Eliott’s mouth falls open, and then snaps shut.
“But I figured I should stop because you probably don’t even remember me the second I step through that door, so yeah. I’ll just –”
“Oh, I remember you,” Eliott interrupts. “I dream of you after you step through that door. I count the minutes until you’re back.”
“Oh.”
Lucas doesn’t know how to continue after that.
“Yeah, oh,” Eliott says. “You really had no idea? Not even after I kept trying to talk to you? Kept trying to find out your name?”
“Oh,” Lucas says again. “I, uh, I guess I didn’t? I was too nervous, trying to come up with something to say to you.”
“Well,” Eliott says. “Can I know your name now, then? And do you want to go for a drink with me someday? Or dinner? Or a movie? Maybe at my place?”
“Lucas,” Lucas says. “And yes.”
“Lucas.” It sounds great, rolling of Eliott’s lips. “Yes to which one?”
“All of them,” Lucas says. “Except maybe we can skip the movie? I, uh, I don’t even really like movies.”
Eliott giggles. Lucas blushes.
“Okay. Movie date without a movie. I guess we can find something else to do.”
Lucas guesses so too. And if he blushes even deeper, well, Eliott doesn’t seem to mind as he smiles at Lucas, his eyes full of mischief and promise.