You First: A Joe Goldberg Prequel (You, #0)(86)

We leave India, floating through the East Village like Harry and Sally and the other two. We point at funny T-shirts and crazy shoes, and it’s all so natural, the way Carl and Betty drift ahead of us, the way you lean your head on my shoulder.

“I really do love them. Maybe sometime we can visit them in San Francisco.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Maybe we could do that.”

“Maybe soon? Barry doesn’t have an episode in April. I could get away for a few days….”

This is not possible, Vail. Jeremy and Sarah do not exist. “Well, that would be great.”

“I know I’m a hypocrite with the let’s take it slow and then…let’s fly to California.”

Indeed. “Never.”

“You’re probably like, ‘This little old lady is going from zero to sixty,’ and I just…”

Jeremy looks back at us to see where we are, and he sees us having a moment. Paid friends are the best friends. I look at you. The new you. The new you as in the one who sees the full me, the loved me. “Vail, it’s a cliché for a reason, okay? Age is just a number.”

“Sarah’s really pretty.”

That is bait. I do not bite. I do better. I kiss you. “And yeah, Vail. It would be fucking fun to go to San Fran, maybe even move there….”

You ask me if I like hills and rice as we laugh and realize we don’t know shit about San Francisco. We’re more equal than ever and you’re afraid that you want me too much, afraid that I will back out the second you jump in. “I gotta say, Joe. I was nervous, but this…this is nice. And it means a lot to me, meeting your friends, and they’re so settled, you know? They make me feel like I’m gonna figure out stuff in my life. I love that.”

The tables are turning. You are the young one, despite your age, your world-class family travel, and your college degree. “Well, they love you, Vail. And if we wanna go to San Francisco, we can go to San Francisco. We can do whatever the hell we want.”

Your lips quiver. “I lied to you.”

THAT IS NOT IN THE SCRIPT and I fucking hate improv, I do. “Okay.”

“The reason I haven’t introduced you to Barry…”

“Vail, that’s your work. I don’t need to meet your boss.”

“Well, Joe, I have to say it….” He has a big cock. “He’s my uncle, okay?”

You don’t seem to get that this is good news. “Ah. He’s your Uncle Angus.”

“No, Joe. I make it sound like I’m a part of things on the show. I’m learning the ropes, but really I’m just…I’m a professional niece. Everyone I work with knows it, I’m only there as a favor to my ritzy uncle, so last week…I can’t.”

“It’s okay.” And necessary. I have to know why you iced me out. Learn, baby, learn.

“I went to this temp agency, and the woman was so mean. She was like, ‘Do you have pantyhose? Do you have references that aren’t family? Do you know Excel?’?”

“Fuck her.”

Sometimes it really is that simple to love someone. A simple, strong fuck her. You kiss me. “Thank you, Cusack. I guess your friends are just so…Together.”

I hold your hands, both of them. “I believe in you. And if you want me to kill the lady from the temp agency, I’m game.”

The gallows humor only works because I am me. Gentle. Devoted. The scene doesn’t need more dialogue, not right now. I hold you the way you need to be held. And then you pull away. You tilt your head. Uh-oh. “There’s one more thing.”

NO, VAIL, I ALREADY CALLED CUT. “Okay.”

“The whole San Francisco thing…I can’t…I can’t promise you the we when I barely have the I.”

I laugh it off, I am somewhere between Big and Steve. “Vail, come on. You know when Miranda sees Big show up for Carrie in Denial?”

“Who are you, Joe Goldberg?”

I am a producer. I am the man. “I’ll say it whenever you need to hear it…I’m here.”

You look at me like you wish you could take off all my clothes. “Mm-hmm.”

Been a while since I got an mm-hmm, and I keep at it.

“I don’t wanna play games, and I know I can be a little clingy…”

“No, last week…that was totally about me and the temp agency.”

I needed that; you knew it. “So what next? Is it gonna be Live! With Regis and Vail?”

You’re laughing—I am funnier than Dubs—and you don’t say that no guy’s ever been this good to you. You don’t need to say it. It’s in your eyes, in your shoulders below that silly cape. I check on our friends and give a two minutes hand signal. I wish this were all on tape. You take me in your arms and bring me home right here on the corner of Fifth and Sixth. We form an invisible statue that will be here for the rest of time. We hold on tight. We don’t let go. We hold on to each other in a way we never have, and this movie is the kind that changes lives. It’s like when Steve called Miranda late at night after she was at her worst with him, when he responded to her darkness and self-loathing with his best. He gave her the fucking moon, and so did I. I was wise to make a movie for you. That’s how your brain works, and you really did need to see someone else believe in me. I feel the Carrie leaving your system. Same way I spit out my Big. We’re not perfect. But we were never realer than we are right now, and reality doesn’t bite, and sorry, Mr. Mooney, but hope isn’t always the stairway to hell. I took a leap of faith and I landed on my feet, in your arms. I win.