A/N: Special thanks to Betsy again. And thank you to all those who reviewed! You make my day every time you do. So, you know. Continue to do so, please.
Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino, blah blah blah, and I'm not her.
"Hi," Matthew said, standing at the door of Rory's apartment promptly at 6.30 on Friday.
"Hey," she replied, smiling somewhat awkwardly. Matt returned it, then shuffled nervously but before he could think of anything to say his cell phone rang.
"Crap," he muttered, taking it out of his pocket and looking at the display. "Do you mind? It's one of my poets, I desperately need to sort this thing-"
"Sure, go ahead," Rory assured him. "I'm just putting my shoes on, then we can go."
"Awesome," Matt nodded. "Angus. Thanks for calling me back, man."
Rory smiled at him, then confusedly eyed two pairs of shoes, trying to choose between flats and heels. She performed some indecisive routine until Matthew, glancing at her from his conversation pointed to the heels. She quietly laughed, put them on, and tilted her head towards the door.
Ten minutes later they were walking towards the centre of town, Matt's phone still in his hand. "Well, you do that, Angus... Yeah, Monday 9 am... How many times do I have... Just don't overdo it. Yeah, yeah, I trust you will. Listen I have to go now... Looking forward to it. Bye.
"I am so sorry," he said, turning to Rory.
"Angus?"
"Yeah. He's Scottish and all, actually, we tend to spend a lot of time arguing whether he should write in English English or American English. I say he should be natural, he says that if he does people here won't understand him. Jess usually adds that he's a poet, people are not supposed to understand him anyway. Okay, business day over now. How was your week?
"Good. Pretty quiet. Yours?"
"Crazy busy. Chris has been stuck on this one manuscript, Jess has been... I don't know. All over the place. It's all on my head."
"Sorry."
"Nah. I kinda like it. You look great, by the way."
"Thank you. You clean up rather nicely, too."
"Thanks. Chris's shirt."
She laughed. "So, what's the plan?"
"The plan?"
"For tonight. Brief me in, because I don't want to spoil, you know, the performance.
Matt grimaced, then sighed. "No performance, Rory dearest. You and I are hanging out, as friends. I plan to ignore Holly, but if she approaches us, then... Well, don't worry about it, I'll handle it. I'll improvise."
"You're sure?" Rory frowned.
"Yes. Definitely," he added, before eagerly changing the subject. "So, have you read the book?"
"The book?" she asked, pretending to be confused while really she was grateful for Matthew bringing it up, because as much as she'd been aching to talk about it to someone all day, something kept telling her that voluntarily starting a conversation about Jess could be considered eager. And she didn't want to be eager. She was not. Why would she be, she kept asking herself.
"The Subsect," Matt supplied.
"Oh, yeah. I have. Last night."
"And?" he drawled.
"It's good. Could be a bit longer, actually. And less influenced by Hemingway. But the imagery is very creative and still not over-the-top," Rory said, carefully choosing her words.
"You're beating around the bush."
"What?"
"Oh, come on. Thoughts on the ending please."
She hesitated for a moment while her face lit up in excitement. "I know it's part of the artistic vision, leaving things unresolved like that, but God, how frustrating is it? I want to know what happened to Thomas!" she exclaimed. "The hint that he went back wasn't enough," she pouted.
Matt, clearly pleased with her enthusiastic approach, smiled knowingly in response. "You loved it."
"... Yeah... Don't tell Jess," she added jokingly. "It's weird, you know. Reading something by someone you know. Not that I know him well, but still-"
"It's hard to believe that a jackass like him can write something like that."
Rory grinned at Matthew's words and the affection beneath them. "Exactly."
"Trust me, it was the same for me too, at first. Jess doesn't reveal himself to people easily. And if you ask me, he's surprisingly nice to you anyway."
"Okay, I wouldn't call him nice."
"Lack of perspective," Matt assured her. "We're here."
As they entered the gallery, already quite filled with people, Matt pointed at a table with drinks. "Look, free booze! I told you this would be cool," he said happily, picking up plastic cups with wine for both of them.
"To art," Rory proposed when he mock-clinked his cup with hers.
"Yes. And generally... successful evening."
"Hear, hear."
"Okay, Matt, there's a girl looking at us," Rory told him as he stubbornly stared at a picture. "Messy strawberry blonde hair, medium height."
"That's her."
"She's pretty."
A pained look washed over the young man's face before he made a half-turn to glance at Holly. She caught his eye in that moment and casually waved, but before he even raised his hand to wave back, the girl's attention was already on somebody else.
Matthew huffed, turning back to Rory. He looked at her with thoughtful expression.
"You can hit me over the head if I decide to go and talk to her. I won't. I still have some pride."
Rory only grimaced compassionately as she watched him sip his wine.
They were half-way through the exhibition when Matt went to get more drinks, leaving Rory in a far end of the room to stare at a particularly artistic, high resolution photograph of grey pavement with grey sky in the background. Frowning and squinting, she tried to interpret the artist's message behind it, until her very keen contemplation of art got interrupted by a familiar chuckle from behind her.
"I cannot believe you got roped into coming here as Matt's fake date."
A look of surprise crossed her face before she turned on her heel to face him. He looked her up and down and her dress suddenly felt too short and the neckline too revealing. She managed to note, however, that he was dressed up, too; he wore a black blazer with his band T-shirt.
She raised her chin and drove her nails into the skin of her palm, trying to divert her blood from its route to her face. "How do you know it's fake?"
"Come on, Rory."
"Fine. He bribed me with books."
"Hope they weren't stolen from my bedroom," Jess shook his head, almost missing the way she bit her lip.
"Not quite, no." She ignored his questioning look. "How did you get roped into coming here? I didn't really pin you for a visual arts kind of guy."
"And you think you've got me all figured out, huh, Gilmore?" he teased. "Holly used to display her stuff in Truncheon before she got into fancy galleries. Besides, I get paid extra for every new client I bring in."
"Cool."
"Not really... Has Matt done anything stupid yet?"
"No. He insists he can't talk to Holly but I can tell he wants to. She's not making it any easier, really. And he's so into her, poor Matt."
"Yeah, poor Matt," Jess repeated, looking at her intently.
"What about Matt? And could the two of you stop flirting so obviously?" the young man in question asked, approaching them and handing Rory a cup. "It really doesn't make me look very good."
"Does Chris know you are wearing his shirt?" Jess changed the subject easily, smirking upon seeing Rory's relieved look.
At that moment, Matthew's cell phone started ringing again.
"Talk about the devil... Hey, Chris... Guys, Chris says hi," Matt addressed Rory and Jess.
"Tell him I say hi back," Rory said, then spoke to Jess. "Where is he?"
"Upstate, visiting his grandmother. He goes every other weekend."
"Brings home cooked meals to last us all around three days," Matt added. "Hey, what's Nana cooking this time?" he spoke into the receiver. "Risotto? Jess, you hear that? ...Yeah, I just spoke to Angus, he's gonna work on the... Guys, I'm going outside, I'll be right back."
"He says you're being useless at work," Rory spoke playfully when they were left alone again. "Why is that, huh, Mariano?"
"Got other stuff on my mind," he answered with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes, and still jokingly said, "Okay, are you flirting with me?"
"Maybe."
For some reason, this response wiped the smile off her face, and she said sharply though rather weakly, "Then stop."
"Why?"
"Because. I don't enjoy being messed with."
He paused for a second, his amused expression disappearing just as hers did. "You think that's what it is?"
"Isn't it?" Rory challenged, looking him straight in the eye. A long moment passed before she received a response, and it was a mere shrug.
Angrily, she turned back to glare at the photograph, and a moment later she could sense Jess walking away.
"Look how close to her she lets him stand," Matt said disdainfully, looking at Holly and one of those piercing-eyed and long-haired types. "Ugh. It makes me sick. You know what, I'm just gonna go to her and tell her-"
"Matthew, stop," Rory told him categorically, catching his elbow. "You're tipsy."
"Nonsense."
"You are. How much wine did you have?"
"... No idea."
"You know, I think we should get going."
"Oh, really?" Matt whined, then his expression turned into one of a little child, trying to be good. "But we still haven't seen some of the pictures!"
Rory sighed. "Fine."
Matthew grinned and she followed him, stopping for a second when she noticed Jess intently conversing with a blonde in the corner of the room. She rolled her eyes, then took a few steps, only to bump into Matt who was gaping at a photograph in front of him.
"Hey, uh... that... that's me, right?" he stuttered. "I mean, I'm tipsy, but I can still recognise myself in a picture. Holy crap... She didn't even ask if it's okay. What if I don't want to be hung up on a wall?"
"Oh, uh... It's only your profile. And... blurred."
"I know! What's up with that?"
"It's... artistic," Rory spoke with a frown, but by the time she said it, Matthew was already marching decidedly towards Holly.
She helplessly turned to go after him, but her eyes once again fell on Jess and the blonde, now standing too close to him to be considered innocent, her hand on his arm. Rory glared at the unaware pair, and then Jess looked up, caught her eye and sent her a smug smile. Then he said something quietly into the girl's ear.
For a moment, Rory considered throwing something at him, and at the blonde while she was at it, but ultimately she decided it wasn't worth it.
Feeling like she just got kicked in the gut, she went outside and called Lane to vent.
"Matthew, for goodness' sake. Stop drinking!" she exclaimed when she found him some time later, practically glued to the table with drinks.
"Why should I," he muttered grimly in response. "She doesn't want to date me. She said it to my face. She said I'm the sweetest guy she knows, but she just doesn't feel that way about me. So I'm done being sweet. Now I'm gonna be bitter and cynical. Like... Like Logan."
"What Logan?" Rory screeched.
"The one, you know. The one who loved Veronica. Or like Jess, even," Matt continued, unfazed. "He's sarcastic, always appears uninterested, he puts the minimum effort into romance and he still gets to leave with a girl."
"Jess left?" Rory asked sharply. Matt nodded. "Well, he's getting back here and he's taking you home," she declared sternly, opening her purse. "... I haven't got his cell phone number."
"He doesn't have one. Shit, I feel sick."
"Oh, God. Right. Let's get you outside," she said, her voice getting slightly panicked.
When they got out of the gallery, Rory dialed Truncheon's number, with no luck whatsoever. "Stupid jerk," she muttered. "If he's there with that girl when we get there, he's gonna be in so much trouble," she seethed, pulling on Matt's arm.
"Ow, oww, what's going on?" he cried absently.
"I'm walking you home, since I really don't have money to spend for taxi on lousy fake-dates, and you can use some fresh air anyway. Come on, step by step. Nice," she told Matthew before she started muttering under her breath. "Smug freaking pig. Thinks he's so cool..."