Disclaimer: The characters of Tristan DuGrey and Jess do not belong to me. They are the property of the WB, Amy Sherman-Palladino and affiliates.
Author's Note: I'm thanking everyone who has replied and showed support to this whole Tristan/Jess thing. The encouragement plus the nagging voices in my head (as Liza put it) has spawned this third piece.
A Toast to the Future
The crowd had dispersed and there were only the remains of their presence: empty bottles, wrapping paper and ribbons tossed in the trash can, a forgotten glove and the emptiness of a place which had once been brimming full of people. The quiet was haunting and he needed to get out. Grabbing his jacket and an unopened champagne bottle, Tristan exited the building and caught a cab to a much smaller apartment in a seedier part of town.
"Jess!" he banged loudly on his friend's door. "Open up. I know you're home."
"Go away, DuGrey!" came the grumbling reply.
"Why, so I don't have to see the shame on your face?"
"And what exactly do I have to be ashamed about?" muttered Jess as he swung his door open.
"How about missing my graduation party?"
Jess feigned surprise. "Was it tonight? Did I really miss it? Gosh darn, I'm so upset. Go away, Tristan. It's late. I'm trying to sleep."
"Yes, it was tonight. And yes, you did miss it." Tristan replied calmly before stepping into the apartment. "However, due to my benevolent nature, I am willing to forgive your transgression and accept your apology."
"I didn't apologize."
"Well, not directly. But I know amongst that attitude of yours there is an apology hidden somewhere."
"In you dreams," Jess muttered darkly.
"Meanwhile," Tristan continued as if he had not heard his friend's comment, "I come bearing gifts. Or rather a gift. Since you couldn't come to the party, the party has come to you."
"Champagne?" The sleepy-eyed, brunette took the offered bottle. "Thanks. I'll save it for a special occasion."
"Ah, but this, my friend, is a special occasion."
"You grab the mugs and corkscrew, I'll grab my cigarettes and we'll rendezvous at the rooftop," replied Jess, admitting defeat.
They met up on the rooftop, breathing in the semi-smog filled air, and stood in silence staring out at the five am darkness. There were the flickering street lamps and the constant glow of advertisements selling consumerism to society. In close but random intervals, there was the flash of headlights from passing cars; a good stream of traffic despite the time. The city hummed with electricity and all things man-made, and sirens squealed to remind the world that people were living (and dying).
"So what are we celebrating?" asked Jess as he lit a cigarette.
"My graduation."
"Not good enough, DuGrey."
"How about parents then?" suggested Tristan while he fumbled with the corkscrew. "Do y'know, my dad is proud of me?" The bottle opened with a loud 'pop', the cork flying into the air and disappearing into the abyss of darkness as it passed the safety of the rooftop. "He's proud of me. After all this time, he has the gall to call me aside and say 'Son, I'm proud of you'."
"You did get into law school," Jess pointed out to his friend. "Harvard, nonetheless."
"As if any of that matters," scoffed the blonde, his blue eyes filled with an intensity of repressed anger and hurt.
"To him it does."
"For once, I would just like to fail. Fail miserably. To disgrace the DuGrey beyond repair."
"You tried that once," Jess reminded, blowing out a puff of smoke. "It didn't work then, and it won't work now."
"Still-"
"If it is any consolation, my mom called a few days ago."
Tristan turned to face his friend, a look on surprise on his face. "Really? You didn't tell me."
"I didn't believe it at first. I figured it was a sure sign that the prophesied doomsday had finally arrived. That or it was surety of my madness. Only she did call."
"How was it? How was she? How are you?"
"She needed to get my number from Luke. Apparently she didn't know where I had been staying. Anyway, the cliffnote version of our conversation is that she wants me to spend the summer with her. She's getting those pesky maternalistic feelings again, and wants to get to know her little boy."
"Wow, man, that sucks."
"Tell me about it," nodded Jess. "Y'know, I'm thinking that champagne of yours really was a good idea. Pour me some. I suddenly have the urge to get really drunk."
"And I suddenly have the urge to smoke," replied Tristan, taking the cigarette off Jess. He inhaled too quickly and dropped the butt to the floor, clutching his chest as he coughed. "And now I remember why I don't smoke. Those things really are foul. I'm surprised that they haven't killed you yet, Jess."
Jess smirked as he filled his mug with champagne and then downed half of its contents "You just don't know how to do it right, Tristan. By the way, this is good stuff. Quality."
"Thank my dad. It was his choice."
"Well then, kudos to your father." The dark-haired youth raised his mug into the air.
"And your mother," echoed the blonde, having just filled his own mug with champagne. "So, are you going to spend the summer with your mom?"
"Are you going to spend the summer with your parents?"
Both friends exchanged knowing looks. They needed no words and the silence between was comforting. Instead they concentrated on the sky, which was still dim, but growing lighter as time ticked by. It was six o'clock in the morning and from their vantage point they could see some person, across the street, getting out of bed and obviously getting ready for work.
"I meant to come to your graduation party."
"Forget it, man." Tristan dismissed his friend's attempt at apology. "You didn't miss much. It was boring as hell."
"Well, I figured that. Plus I was trying to avoid that red-head you set me up with."
"Veronica?"
"Yup, that's her. What were you thinking?"
"Payback's a bitch," smirked Tristan.
"Nope. No way, man. You did not do that to me because of Angela. I honestly thought the two of you would make a good match."
"Why, because you dated her beforehand?"
"The two of you looked good together," Jess defended.
"I look good with anyone," argued Tristan.
"Vainglorious, aren't we?"
"Just speaking the simple truth, man."
"Anyway, I'm sorry I didn't come, Tristan. I guess I felt a little awkward, out of place. Like I wouldn't belong."
"You're my friend. You don't need to feel like you belong. You just do. Besides, in that type of high-society, nobody really belongs. Not even me. Especially not me. We all just pretend. We're all very good at pretending. It's an art."
"So, I guess what you're trying to say is that my mom and I really would fit in, despite the economic differences."
"Exactly." Both boys shared a smirk.
"Y'know, I never said it to his face but I'm thankful for Luke. I owe him a lot."
"He knows that, Jess. I've seen the two of you together before. It makes me jealous, sometimes. There are too many things that money can't buy."
"Do you regret Harvard? Law school?"
"Can you regret Harvard? For some people it's their lifelong dream. They'd endure hell for it." The two friends shared a meaningful, pointed glance, at a reference to a past. "Besides the point, I suppose sometimes I do. But then again, if I didn't have Harvard, if I didn't have law school then I wouldn't know what I had. It's my future. I've always known that."
"What if it doesn't turn out to be what you expected? What you wanted? What you need?"
"You're asking all the hard questions today, aren't you, Jess? Life is a never-ending series of disappointments. Sometimes you discover that you have to live without the things you want, the things you need." Another pointed glance filled with mutual understanding was exchanged between the two.
"Tell you what, let a coin toss settle it. Heads you go to Harvard and tails you live the life you want."
"Okay," Tristan agreed, somewhat amused at his friend's suggestion.
"Ready?" asked Jess and at Tristan's nod he flipped the coin. High in the air the quarter spun. The sun was beginning to rise, lighting the sky with a warm, pale glow that added shades to the quarter. It twirled around once more and then began to drop. With a gentle clink, the quarter landed near the ashes of Jess' forgotten cigarette. Bent and crouching, the dark-haired boy picked up the coin.
"So?"
Jess stared out at the bustling city, now awake. There were so many cars, so many people beginning a day in their lives. "Heads."
An ironical, sad, twisted smile crossed Tristan's face. "Fate."
"I think, I might spend some time with my mom this summer," Jess decided.
"And Europe with the parentals can't be that bad," added Tristan, "Well, actually it can. But I can bear it."
"And next year you'll have Harvard, law school and Boston."
"And you'll have Boston too," Tristan reminded Jess, "Considering the fact that you've got a job there."
"Yeah, well, we'll see how long that lasts."
"And in the meantime we have this bottle of champagne."
"A very good bottle of champagne at that." They refilled their mugs and then charged their glasses together in a toast to the future as the sun rose before them.