9

Lisa Miller Shakes It Up

" ! ! !"

"ZZz. . .Zzz. . .zzz. . ."

"

! ! !"

"ZzZ. . .zzZ. . .zzz. . .?"

"BBBRRRRRIIIIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG ! ! !"

"Meah. . ."

"Get up, you lazy bum!"

"Is this Lisa? Aren't you in the other room?"

Scott Pilgrim

Stuntman

Status: Annoyed that he was woken up from a Zelda dream

"Umm, no. I left an hour ago. It's already 11:30, Scott. So get up, and meet me for lunch."

Scott rolled over and stretched, yawning loudly. "Aah–OW!"

"Forgot you were on a couch, and rolled off, hitting the floor hard, didn't ya?"

"I wish I never had to sleep," Scott groaned, picking up the receiver.

"No, you don't. That would totally suck. And be boring."

"Where am I going?"

"Out the door, down the stairs, into a–"

"For breakfast! Where am I going for breakfast!"

"Matches on Grand– and it's lunch, Scott. See you there at noon."

"I'm hanging up now," Scott slammed the phone down on the kitchen counter, and cleaned his face in the sink. Slightly hungover, and dreading the busy morning, Scott headed out of Lisa's apartment with an empty stomach for motivation.

Matches

Only Serves Lunch

(Whatever that means)

Scott walked lazily to the hostess counter and waited to be noticed. "Can I help you?"

"Uh. . ." Scott was a bit taken back by the tall brunette's aggressively cheerful attitude. "Lunch. . .Lisa Miller." Without skipping a beat the hostess looked away from Scott, completely disinterested in anything he might add, and looked down at the reservation book.

Scanning is with her eyes, she soon cam upon a name that made her eyes go big and her mouth smile wide. She directed her frightfully upbeat countenance at Scott once more. "It seems that Ms. Miller has already arrived, and is waiting for you." The hostess then walked off without another word, and Scott stood there unsure of what happened next. Without thinking, he began walking in the general direction that the hostess had headed.

Entering the main dining area, Scott immediately spotted the only bright-yellow blonde in the room, sitting at the corner table– the hostess was standing there next to it.

Lisa Miller

Actress

Status: Obviously nervous about something

"Thanks for the wake up call," Scott said. He sat down as the hostess informed him that Ms. Miller had already ordered for him. "What are we getting?"

"Lunch," Lisa said simply. She hadn't stopped staring at him since she spotted him entering the dining room.

"Not breakfast or dinner," Scott responded playfully. He took a long drink of his water– completely unaware of Lisa's apparent distress.

"They only serve lunch here," Lisa clarified, leaning forward on her hand, her elbows on the table.

"What does that even–? mean." Scott finished his sentence awkwardly as he turned his attention away from their surroundings and noticed that Lisa was scrutinizing his every move. "What's up?" Scott sweated. How could this not be his fault?

"Scott. . .did you enjoy last night?" Lisa asked. "The party, I mean," she clarified, not wanting to bring up Scott's confession about what happened with Ramona.

"Yeah! It was kinda scary. The food was good, and I didn't really know anyone. . ." Scott was searching his head for something more to say, but nothing was coming.

"I mean," Lisa frowned, "Me dragging you around– and you having to stand there and just listen to random people talk to me about trivial things– or stuff that has nothing to do with you. How could you not hate that?"

Scott thought he saw where this was going– he was wrong– and decided to answer firmly. "I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to. I'm not such a push over, anymore. I guess that means I'm not as easygoing–" Lisa didn't think that last part was entirely true. "–But, anyway. I wanted to spend time with you, and I know that you spend most of your time going to parties like that– and that you don't WANT to. I was happy to suffer with you. And I was happy when you thanked me."

Lisa didn't smile, but her features softened, and she leaned back in her chair. Before she could respond, their server set down both of their meals. "Anything else I can get you?"

"Napkins, please," Lisa responded. He nodded.

"I guess 'lunch' equals a french dip and chips," Scott said casually.

"I know you're starving, so let's just enjoy this," Lisa took a drink of her soda. "But remind me that I have something to ask you." Scott nodded, then dug in.

During the meal, the two said next to nothing. Most of the time, both concentrated on their meal. But every once in a while, they would look up and smile at each other– perfectly content that the other was enjoying the food and silence.

"Done," Lisa proclaimed with a full stomach. She had made is three-fourths of the way through her BLT, and only had a few chips left.

Scott had finished his sandwich a long time ago, but still had more chips than Lisa left. He was eating them one at a time, and very slowly. "I should really pay for this meal. You've paid for every tab, and all our meals together."

"Don't be silly, Scott," Lisa waved his suggestion away. "I'm much, much richer than you–"

"–grammar–"

"–Besides, I haven't paid for any of this," Lisa spread her hands, indicating an imaginary spread of food and drinks. "I come here, and bring other famous people here, and they comp. it. Like a barter system."

"I'm famous?" Scott asked, doubtfully.

"Not yet you're not," Lisa teased, "But we're about to change that!" Lisa waived over the hostess, who was showing another couple to their table.

"Can I help you?" She asked in the same nauseatingly bright tone.

"Yeah," Lisa began. "You have all these famous people on the wall. I want to know if you'd like to add two more."

"Certainly, Ms. Miller," the hostess was painfully pleased. "'Matches' would love to have you an–..." the hostess stumbled for just a brief second– she obviously didn't recognize Scott, but, at the same time, she certainly didn't want to offend Lisa Miller or her guest. "–you both featured on the wall. Just let me go back and find a profile picture–"

"–No need," Lisa cut her off. She reached in her bag and pulled out two black and white 8x10s.

"Where'd you get that!" Scott pointed accusingly at the photo of himself and then at Lisa. "Why am I posing!"

"Nick– Nicholas Block, my agent," Lisa said. "He can do anything." Lisa attended back to the hostess. "Do have a sharpie?" Without answering, the hostess turned quickly, walked back to her desk, and brought back a marker, handing it to Lisa. She signed, then, handing the marker to Scott, said, "Your turn."

"Wow. I feel so. . .something," Scott said, signing his name.

"Better lines, Scott," Lisa continued to tease. The hostess took both of the photos with the promise to get them framed an up as soon as possible. "Let's go." So the two left, without Scott knowing exactly where or what they were going to next.

"Oh," Scott remembered, as they were walking out the door onto the street. "What is it you wanted to ask me?" Truthfully, Scott didn't want to have this discussion. At best, Lisa was going to ask him about why he had left Toronto and walked across country to the Western border of Canada. At worst. . .well, he didn't even want to think about that.

Lisa nodded, but didn't speak. "I'm going to be doing a lot of publicity stuff the next few months, for this recent movie: parties, interviews, red carpet– stuff like that." The sounds of the city filled their ears, and there was silence between them for a while. Scott waited, looking at Lisa, who masterfully avoided his eyes. " I could...use a date."

Scott's eyes shot open. "Like an escort!" Lisa clarified, hating herself all the while, waving her hands up in denial. "Like the party last night. I could introduce you to some influential people, and you'd get to eat delicious food, and visit famous places– and I just. . ." Lisa pleaded, "It'd be nice to have you with me– we wouldn't have time to hang out otherwise," she finished calmly.

"You're saying you want me to be your date to every public event from now till your next movie?"

"Yeah," Lisa admitted, putting her face in her palms, "I guess that's what I'm saying."

"THAT'S AMAZING!"

"Oh, shut up!" Lisa yelled at him. "Be serious, Scott."

"What about Nick?" Scott asked seriously. "Or is he too busy?"

"What about Nick?" Lisa asked back, confused why Scott would bring him up.

"Well. . .doesn't– when two people. . .together, they date?" Scott stumbled over is words, having a blank stare on his face all the while.

"You think," the truth dawning on Lisa, "You think. . .that me, and Nick, are together."

Scott snapped out of it, and really looked at Lisa. She wasn't frowning, but something in her look told Scott that she was sad. In fact, he was discovering, was noticing, that she had no expression at all, but her eyes were full of life– some emotion that Scott couldn't grasp. He had never seen Lisa like this. '

No, that's not true,' something within Scot responded. He had seen this look, if only for a second, on Lisa's face at least twice before. Once was in high school, when he had told Lisa that him and Kim had started dating. A flash of the same look had come across her face, before she congratulated them both with dashing hugs. And again, when he was with Ramona, staying over at Lisa's sisters:

"Maybe we should have. . ."

". . ."

"Maybe we should."

That's right. In that moment, she had the same look. What did it mean?

Scott was brought back to the moment, catching the end of Lisa's mumbled words: "Scott, you're an idiot."

"Idiot?" Scott repeated the only word he had heard. But Lisa turned away and, ignoring Scott, she walked away down the street. Scott thought quickly to go after her, but before he could catch up she had entered a cab and gone off down the street.

Lisa didn't see or call Scott for the rest of the week. She wouldn't answer her phone, and she was never home. Scott didn't know how else to get in contact with her or find her. Some part of him realized that he could call Nick, and ask about Lisa, but for some reason– probably having to do with the whole misunderstanding between him and Lisa about Nick– he didn't think of that.

Powder

Only Serves White Food

Slightly Racist (?)

"I'll see you later, Dominique," Scott called as he exited the kitchen into the alleyway.

"Not if I see you first, fool." It started to rain. Scott had asked his old manager if she had seen Lisa in tonight. Dominique let him know before hand that she had eaten dinner at Powder every night of that week– but no such luck tonight.

'And now it's raining,' thought Scott sulkily, as he pulled his jacket over his head. 'I thought it was always sunny in Southern California. And it's L.A.!' Scott grumbled, look out and back at the street to see if he could wave down a cab. Still no luck.

" ! ! !"

" *grumble*mumble*grumble* "

! ! !"

" *Gggrreeeyerrr* " Angrily, Scott picked up his phone. "Hello!"

Despite the harsh greeting, the voice didn't sound phased: "Hey, Scott. What're ya doing in the rain?"

"It wasn't raining when I came outside! Is this Lisa?"

"Dude, you need some kind of transportation. I'm not saying buy a car, bbuuttt–"

"I have my legs!"

"Where's you're parka? Y'know, the one with hood– you've had it for, like, more than half your life."

Scott looked around, but the rain was pretty thick, and the street pretty dark. He couldn't see a car or person following him. "Why haven't you been returning my calls? And are you stalking me?"

"Please! Who's stalking who? I've seen you come looking for at Powder at least three times, easily."

"Can I get out of the rain? Is that in your power?" Without another moment passing, a black sudan pulled up to the curb next to Scott. The door was flung open, Lisa smiling at Scott from inside.

"C'mon, the seats absorb water." Scott climbed in and was surprised to find that, as his clothes pushed against the fabric of the seats, he was beginning to feel dryer and dryer.

"This is magic," Scott concluded.

"It's the future, Scott."

Scott looked up at Lisa, who was still smiling, and frowned heavily. "So. . .have you been avoiding me?"

". . .yeah," Lisa answered, matter-of-factly.

"Why?" Scott blurted out, but then added, "I don't understand why."

"I wouldn't try to figure me out, Scott– girls in general, really." Lisa prompted the driver to take Scott home, and they began to move.

"I'm sorry, though," Scott said earnestly. He looked sheepishly into Lisa's eyes, and she looked sincerely sympathetic.

"I forgive you. And to answer your question," Lisa added, "I was upset with you and didn't want to talk or see you, so I avoided you. I just needed to cool my head. How about you?"

"Me?" Scott's other question– 'Why were you upset?– was pushed out of his mind.

"About my request, you airhead!" Lisa smacked his head.

"Ow–!" Scott massaged the back of his head. "Right. . .dating. . ."

"Escort!" Lisa blushed. "You're the worst friend ever, Scott. You'd be a worse boyfriend."

"I was the best boyfriend," Scott responded. His tone was light hearted, but somehow Lisa knew that she had crossed a line.

"Oh, Scott," Lisa reached over to place her hand on his, "Scott, I'm sorry. I didn't mean–"

"No, no," Scott pulled his hand away, putting up both his arms in denial, "I didn't even think of it like that."

Lisa put her hands to her chest, and looked lovingly at him. "Scott, you're the best friend. You're so good, I mean it. These past few weeks with you here have been amazing– I'm so grateful– and that's why I want you around."

"Yes," Scott suddenly said.

"Huh?" Lisa sounded, confused.

"Yes," Scott repeated. "It'd be great. I'll be your da–ah, escort."

"R-really?" Lisa was on the verge of exploding with happiness. Scott nodded. "Oh, Scott!" And Lisa pounced on top of him, hugging Scott under his arms. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She was now fully on top of him, with her two knees on either side of Scott's sitting body, and her short hair tickling the side of his face.

"I–it. . .'s nothing," Scott said, embarrassed. Before climbing back to her seat, without thinking, Lisa spontaneously kissed Scott on the cheek, adding one last, excited "Thank you!"

Scott's face was beet red, but the car was dark enough to hide it. Lisa, realizing what she had just done, immediately switched in to 'acting mode'. Her insides were screaming, but on the outside she stayed collected, calmly smiling back at the shocked and awed Scott.

"We're here," Lisa informed the still stunned Scott.

"Wha–?" Scott looked out of the car window, but it was soon opened by the driver. They were at his apartment. "Oh," and dully, he got out.

"I'm gonna get your schedule," Lisa called from the inside of the car, "and work all the details. But are you free tomorrow?"

"When?" Scott asked back, looking to see how early he would have to get up.

"Tomorrow," Lisa said, incredulously.

"Oh, right," Scott figured that meant ALL tomorrow. "Goodnight."

"See you tomorrow!" Lisa yelled as the car pulled away from the curb. "GOODNIGHT!"

Scott waved and proceeded to walk into his apartment building. He dragged himself up the stairs and onto his bed. His cheek was burning.

'What am I doing?' He asked himself in earnest. 'What are you doing, Scott?' He knew what was happening, and he hated himself for it. How was he able to do that with Kim– separating the feelings he had from their relationship after they dated–? Kim had always resented Scott for what he did in high school, but Scott was able to move and forget. This wasn't like with Kim. He and Lisa had never dated. It wasn't even like and Envy or Ramona, who he never wanted to stop being in love with. Ramona helped him finally accept what Envy had meant to him. Would Lisa be the one to help me accept what happened with Ramona?

No. He had accepted: he wasn't moving on, and he wasn't forgetting. He was learning to live with his feelings for Ramona by himself. What was happening then? Was it like with Knives? Was he just using Lisa because it was convenient? Because it was easy?

'This is a problem for Tomorrow-Scott,' was his final thought before slipping into a deep sleep.

Lisa got home about an hour after Scott fell asleep, and similarly, she dragged herself into her– not bed, but– shower. She went through her regular ritual, then stood for a few minutes running cold water down her body.

'Cool down, sweetie,' she counseled herself. She placed her hand on her heart, massaging her chest in the hope of calming it's rapid beating. She had never felt like this for someone, not even high school-Scott. Sure, before, she thought Scott was cute, and strong, and they had a lot in common– or rather, Scott was so willing to accept her interests as his own. But her heart had never pained her like this before.

Once, when she and Scott had first met, she had felt like this: like she would be miserable without him. She had walked to school really early, and sat down at the tree, to make absolutely sure she didn't miss Scott. It had killed her: how little Scott cared about her.

"Hey."

"Hey . . . . . . Do you hate me?"

But it wasn't like that now. Scott wanted to be with her now. He had said 'yes', only a while ago– right? As friends. They were friends.

'But we don't have to stay like that, do we?' What about Ramona, though? 'I can't live like this. I need to know.' You'll hate yourself for it. Scott will hate you for it.

'He won't,' Lisa finished her internal debate. 'He won't hate me. I won't let him.' Lisa turned off the shower and got out to dry herself off. She didn't bother getting dressed, slipping into her sheets serenely, still a little wet– her skin tender from the near half an hour she spent in the shower.

She let out a heavy sigh, and hugged several pillows to her body. 'Well,' Lisa consoled herself, 'at least, with Scott, there's never a dull moment.'