March 2010
Hollywood, California
Rachel McAdams and Jake Gyllenhaal were on the stage. Dawson was simply dressed in a classic tuxedo. Joey was wearing a stunning red dress that she was surprised still fit her. Steven Spielberg was sitting not far away, separated by the child stars who had played Peter and Wendy. McAdams began talking.
"To adapt, to make fit for, to change, to suit a new purpose."
"And, as in the case of our five nominees, a writer takes a book, a play, a short film, or even a TV series and turns it into cinematic gold," Gyllenhaal continued.
"Here are the nominees for Best Adapted Screenplay."
Joey wasn't watching the stage. She was holding Dawson's arm with both of hers.
"Dawson, I can't bear to watch. This is too nerve-racking. We're up against such a stacked field."
"Just remember, Joey, it's an honor to be nominated. Nothing can ever take that away from us."
"I'm scared, Dawson."
"It's going to be okay, Joey. Win or lose, it's going to be okay."
"Dawson, to be honest, I think I'm more scared of winning."
At that moment, the presenters stopped talking and the crowd applauded the nominees. Dawson put his arm around Joey's shoulder. Gyllenhaal resumed.
"And the winner is, Dawson Leery and Joey Potter for Peter and Wendy, based on the play Peter Pan; or, the Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up by J.M. Barrie."
The crowd went wild. They stood up and hugged tightly as an announcement sounded over the public address.
"This is the first Academy Award and nomination for Dawson Leery and Joey Potter."
"Dawson, I can't do this. I'm too nervous. You give the speech. Just thank my mom. And Pacey! Don't forget to thank Pacey."
"C'mon."
He dragged her by the arm, and she stopped fighting him despite her mortification.
They accepted their statues, and Joey composed herself as Gyllenhaal kissed her cheek. Dawson stepped to the microphone as the applause subsided.
"I'd like to dedicate this to those who are no longer with us. To my father, for always being there for me. To Jen, for teaching me to live and getting me out of Neverland. I'd like to thank my childhood hero, Steven Spielberg, for trusting my vision and the incredible cast he put together to bring it to life. I'd like to thank my friends, for always believing in me, even when I didn't." He turned to Joey. "Most of all, I'd like to thank to my incredible partner, my Wendy, my Sam, my soulmate. I don't know where I'd be without you. You and me always."
Tears were starting to well up in Joey's eyes. She meekly muttered, "Always," as if by instinct. Dawson lowered the microphone to her height, and she dried her eyes the best she could.
"This is for you, mom."
She then broke down crying and buried her head in Dawson's chest. He wrapped his arms around her as the music started playing. The audience broke into a thunderous applause.
Later that night
Dawson and Joey each had a glass of Champagne in one hand, their Oscar statues in the other. They were surrounded by all sorts of Hollywood royalty, dressed to the nines. There was a reason this was called Hollywood's biggest night, and the parties would continue until the wee hours of the morning. They had been accepting congratulations all night, but Joey was still struggling to find her comfort level. Dawson tried again to lighten her spirits.
"Do you know why they call it an Oscar?"
"No, tell me."
"When Katharine Hepburn won her first Oscar, she said that the statue looked like her Uncle Oscar."
"Oh, I didn't know that."
"Actually," a voice that reeked of superiority intoned, "it was the Academy's Librarian Margaret Herrick who said it. It was the following year, when Hepburn won for Morning Glory that the term first appeared in print."
He looked like he hadn't shaved in a week. If Dawson didn't know him, he might have thought he had snuck in off the street.
"I didn't know that, Mr. Weinstein."
"Harvey, call me Harvey. That's what my friends call me, no need for such formality." He held his hand out, and Dawson put down his drink to shake his hand.
"Joey, this is Harvey Weinstein. He produced Inglourious Basterds."
She put down her drink as well.
"Joey Potter. Nice to meet you."
She held out her hand. Instead of shaking it, he grabbed it and kissed the back of it, in a way bordering on lecherous. She was entirely unsettled but did her best to not let it show. Dawson was guarded but didn't know what to do.
"I know who you are. Everyone in this room does. That speech your partner gave is all anyone wants to talk about tonight."
Joey was desperate to change the subject. She was getting all the wrong vibes from Weinstein and didn't like the way this conversation was going. His interest in her did not seem to be that of a producer in a promising writing talent.
"Inglourious Basterds was great. Pacey saw it three times."
"Pacey? Who's that?"
A gruff voice answered that question. There was no doubt he belonged in this room, or any room he chose to occupy.
"That would be her fiancé. Big dude." Dawson turned around to see Brad Pitt flexing his arms like a bodybuilder. "Scares the hell out of me, not the kind of the guy you'd want to meet in a dark alley, if you know what I mean. Really good with knives, too." Pitt elongated the word knives and shuddered, as if in fear. Weinstein was clearly unnerved.
"Hi Brad." Joey seemed relaxed for the first time since they arrived at the party.
"How is he doing? Still at Corton?"
"Yup, he's sous chef now. They just got two Michelin Stars in the fall."
"I know, I was at the celebration dinner. Bobby wouldn't shut up about the kid, utterly adores him. Said he wanted Pacey to head up the next restaurant he opens."
"I knew they were talking about that, but everything seemed up in the air."
Dawson started laughing.
"Dawson! Pacey always believed in you, why can't you believe in him, too?"
"I do. It's not that. It's just, I remembered something. Sorry, Brad, this is going to totally embarrass you, but probably not as much as it embarrasses Joey."
"Dawson…"
"When we were in our Sophomore year of high school, Joey got drunk at a party. Pacey and I had to take her home. Pacey watched after her nephew, and I put Joey to bed on the couch. We were really confused about our feelings back then."
"I wasn't."
"Okay, well, I was."
"You still are."
"Can I tell the story?"
"Look at the two of you, like an old married couple, no wonder you make such a great writing team."
Joey stuck her tongue out at Pitt and Dawson continued.
"Anyway, as I put her to bed, she sat up and kissed me. I told Pacey that she was so drunk she must have thought I was Brad Pitt."
Pitt laughed hysterically.
"I knew it was you. I just figured you'd think I was drunk enough that you wouldn't get angry with me for kissing you."
"How could anyone possibly get angry with you for kissing them? How confused was he?"
"Very."
"I was a stupid, stupid boy, that's why."
"I'd say. Anyway, Joey, come with me, there are some people who are dying to meet you."
Joey looked at Dawson, who nodded his head. Pitt stuck out his hand, and Joey grabbed it, letting him lead her away. Joey looked back again at Dawson and flashed him a smile that was all tongue and no teeth. For a moment, she was 16 again.
"That is one hell of a woman, and I should know, I've been with the best of them, but she, she's something else."
"Yeah, she's an amazing writer, smartest person I know."
"So, tell me the answer to the big question that everyone else is thinking and too modest to ask."
"What's that?"
"You two banging?"
"Oh, no, it's not like that. I mean, we did, once, well, three times actually, when we were in college, but she's with Pacey now, and I'm really happy for them. I'm going to be Best Man at the wedding."
"I admire your self-control, son."
This was the last person in the world he wanted to have this conversation with.
"So, Mr. Weinstein, Harvey, what can I do for?"
"Straight to business, good, I like that. That film, Peter and Wendy, it's really something special, and I want to see more like it. I want to be in the Dawson Leery business."
The next afternoon
Burbank, California
Dawson was sitting in his office, his feet up on his desk. There were all sorts of gifts and balloons and flowers. He was talking on his cell phone.
He said what?!
"He said, and I quote, 'I want to be in the Dawson Leery business.'"
'I want to be in the Dawson Leery business.'"
"That's what he said."
Bloody hell. You're not taking the piss?
"Todd, I swear. Those were his exact words. 'I want to be in the Dawson Leery business.'"
'I want to be in the Dawson Leery business.'
"How many times are you going to repeat that?"
Until I start to believe it. What does that even mean?
"It means I have carte blanche to make whatever I want for my next film. No executive meddling. I write it, I direct it, and he signs the checks."
Harvey Weinstein wants to be the Dawson Leery business, and here I am making bloody music videos. Did he tell you what the budget would be?
"He asked if I thought 20 million would be enough."
What did you say?
"I said I'm sure it would be. Then he said, 'If you go over budget, don't worry, I'll find more money.'"
'I'll find more money.'
"We doing this again?"
20 million dollars. Bloody hell. You can hire an A-list cast with that, a proper crew, full production value.
"So, are you in?"
What do you mean, am I in?
"I need a DP."
You need a DP.
"Todd."
Well, I don't know, my schedule is pretty booked right now.
"My mom just got remarried, so I don't think she'll be able to convince you this time."
God, Dawson, how do you always manage to surround yourself with the most incredible women. Joey, your mother, even that friend of yours I slept with.
"Audrey?"
Yeah, that's the one. You're a lucky man to have such incredible women in your life. You talk to Audrey lately?
"No, but Joey stayed with her when she came in for the Oscars. She's trying to make it as an actress, but she's not really landing anything. Joey said she's auditioning for a TV show, something where she dates her best friend's son."
That's too bad. Girl had spirit. Hard to find these days. Speaking of which, how's your love life going?
"Love life? It's always been Joey. No one else can measure up to her."
How about your sex life, then?
"No complaints there."
You must be beating them away with a stick. And this Oscar is only going to make it worse.
Dawson laughed. "As it is, I could have a different date every night of the week, if I wanted. Every wannabe actress wants to -"
- be in the Dawson Leery business?
"Something like that. I would never trade a role for sex, though."
Of course not. You're a man of principles. I wish I had your integrity.
"So, can I count you in?"
You got it, Tiger. Truth is, I've never been happier than when I'm holding the camera. Cinematography, cinema is right in the word. You can't get closer to the heart of moviemaking than that.
"Glad to have you aboard."
So, what's it going to be about?
"I want to adapt Sea Creature from the Deep."
Your first movie? That cheesy horror movie?
"Yeah, that's the one. I'm going to rewrite it, make it an homage to old school horror movies."
That's bloody brilliant. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
"I think so."
Let's cast Natasha.
"Let's cast Natasha."
They laughed as they said it at the same time.
The following afternoon
New York, New York
Joey was sitting on her couch. She was marking up Professor Wilder's manuscript. The excitement of the Oscars had started to fade and give way to the reality of the decision she had to make. She worshipped Professor Wilder, and the chance to write a book with him was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but it wouldn't be hers. Mr. Donovan was offering her the one thing she dreamed of more than anything else since she started at Worthington. She could become a published author. Whatever she wanted to write, he'd publish it. How many people ever get that opportunity?
"Morning, Jo." Pacey walked up behind her and kissed the top of her head.
"Or should we say afternoon?"
"I'm so proud of you." His voice was still groggy, and he went to get a cup of coffee. "This fresh?"
"Fresh enough."
"Works for me."
"Brad says hi."
"Now, that's a man that knows how to eat. Drink, too. He can run up quite the liquor bill."
Joey laughed at his attempt at humor. Something was off. She knew her fiancé too well, that his glib exterior was defensive.
"What's wrong, Pace?"
"Nothing's wrong, I'm just tired."
"Pacey. Don't do this. I'm sorry I didn't thank you in my speech, it was just so emotional for me, thinking about how my mom wasn't there to see it."
"I don't care that you didn't thank me."
"Then what is it?"
He threw a copy of a tabloid on top of Professor Wilder's manuscript. She looked at the cover. There was a picture of her buried in Dawson's chest, his arms wrapped around her.
SOULMATES
"You and me always."
Inside: the impassioned speech that stole the stage at Hollywood's biggest night and the story of the Oscar-winning couple.
She didn't open the paper. She didn't have to. She had enough of an idea of what the article must have said.
"You don't actually believe this crap, do you?"
"I don't know."
"They're literally in the business of selling headlines. You can't possibly believe it."
"It doesn't matter if I believe it."
"Then why are you so upset?"
"Because it's embarrassing. It's emasculating. People will read this and think I'm not good enough for you."
"Oh, so that's what this is about. Your fragile ego. Isn't it enough that I think you're good enough for me?"
"How does this not bother you!?"
"Because it doesn't. These things get written in Hollywood all the time. No one believes them."
"But people do. That's why they sell papers. Because people do believe them. And people are going to think I'm a cuckold."
"Are you through?"
"Well, I guess this is what I signed up for when we made that Faustian bargain."
"Faustian bargain?"
"Yeah, you know, when you sell your soul to the Devil."
"I majored in Literature! I know what a Faustian bargain is."
"Oh, right, of course, I always forget you're too smart for me."
"Pacey, stop it. Just stop it. Sit down."
He complied.
"Are you calm?"
"No."
"Okay, well, calm or not, you're going to shut up and listen."
"Fine."
"Do you know who I met with Sunday night?"
"A bunch of rich and famous people?"
"Yes, but, one person in particular. We talked for almost an hour."
"Who?"
"Graydon Carter."
"Who's that?"
"He's the Editor-in-Chief of Vanity Fair."
"What did he want?"
"Pacey. He wants to do a story on us, the real story. He's going to put it on the cover."
"You and Dawson?"
"All of us. You, me, Dawson. He calls it a modern Hollywood love story, and he wants to get the real story out there. So, anyone who believes this tabloid trash over f-ing Vanity Fair, you have to question if that's really a person whose opinion is worth a damn."
"Did you just say f-ing?"
"I did."
"You really mean this, don't you?"
"I do."
"I'm sorry for overreacting, Jo. It's just, you know, it's hard sometimes."
"I know. The right path is rarely the easy one."
"And you're sure you chose the right path?"
She got up and straddled his lap and started kissing him.
"I am. Absolutely."
Burbank, California
Dawson was in the writer's room, trying to finalize the ending to the Neverland episode.
"Okay, let's go over it one more time." Dawson had his head on the conference table, resting it on his arms. He was exhausted. They had been trying to wrap up this scene for hours.
"Petey and Colby are at their secret fort, and Petey is resolved to tell Colby he kissed Sam and that he wants to start dating her. They keep getting interrupted by Billy and his friends, but Colby finally scares them off with a ghost story. Petey and Colby find a blood oath they made when they were kids, a loyalty pact. Petey then musters the courage to tell Colby what happened, and Colby says, 'I'm glad you came to me. I'm not thrilled about this, but I'd rather it be you than someone else. At least I know she'll be loved.'"
"I don't know, I'm just not buying it." Another writer chimed in.
"What's not to buy? They're best friends, as close as brothers. Petey loves Sam more than he loves his own sisters. If Colby can't be with her himself, what else could he want for her. He's loved this girl as long as he's known what love meant. The only thing that's ever changed is what form that love has taken."
"That's what he wants to think." Dawson lifted his head up. "But it's not true. He sees himself as the good guy, but he's not. He still thinks of her as that innocent girl with a crush on him whose world revolves around him, and he can't be happy if she's happy with someone else. It'll take him years of soul-searching to get to that point. If Petey does tell him the truth, he's just going to snap at Petey. It won't help anything."
"So, what? Petey is damned if he does, damned if he doesn't."
"Right, and we need drama. We need the kind of tension that can last for years. You heard the network, what they said about the college years. Petey can't tell Colby until it's too late, until he finds out himself. At least that way, the viewers will have something to debate. Petey needs to chicken out."
At that moment, his assistant walked in.
"Mr. Leery, I have a call for you."
"Can you take a message? We need to finish this up. We were supposed to start shooting already."
"You told me to always put her calls through."
"Must be Sam," one of the writers snidely muttered to another.
Dawson shot daggers at them. "Shut it. My feelings for her are the reason you knuckleheads have jobs. Just finish it up. I'll look at the script before I go home and make any changes myself if need be. We'll start shooting tomorrow."
Dawson walked back to his office and picked up the headset.
"Hey, Jo."
I hope I'm not bothering you. Your assistant seemed to think you might have been in a meeting.
"You're never bothering me."
You always know the right thing to say, don't you?
"Yeah, I'm good like that. Anyway, I've got some great news. I meant to tell you before you went back to New York, but everything was just so hectic."
I've got news, too, but you go first.
"You can go first, you were the one who called."
No, you go.
"Okay, remember how we met Harvey Weinstein at the Vanity Fair Party?"
I try not to.
"He's not that bad."
He creeped me out.
"I'm sure once you get to know him better, you'll realize he's just a little rough around the edges."
What makes you think I'm going to get to know him better?
"Because he's going to finance our next movie."
Our next movie?
"Yeah, I want to adapt Sea Creature from the Deep."
Dawson, I can't do this.
"Why not? You produced it with me the first time around. Surely you don't have any self-doubt after we've literally won an Oscar."
No, it's not that.
"Is it Harvey? I'm telling you, he's harmless. You've worked with Todd, how are they any different?"
Because Todd is a big softy. I know how to wrap guys like that around my finger. Harvey, he's different. I don't know what it is, but he's nothing like Todd. Anyway, that's not why."
"What is it then?"
Okay, this is why I called you. I kept meaning to tell you, but I wanted to wait until the Oscars. I felt like it was best to put off the burden of a decision until after the stress of the Oscars was over.
"Everything okay, Jo?"
Yes, but I need to make a really hard decision, and I need your help in deciding. Professor Wilder wants me to write his next book with him. I've been editing his current one, and he wants me to be co-author on the next one.
"That's great. This is a fantastic opportunity for you. Why are you hesitating?"
Because Mr. Donovan wants me to write my own book, and he's going to publish it. I can't do both and prepare for a wedding at the same time. Maybe we should just postpone the wedding, then I could try to do both.
"No."
Isn't that the easy option? Then I don't have to decide. Pacey will understand.
"Easy, yes. Right, no."
Ugh. I know. So, which do I choose?
"You already know the answer to that. You wouldn't have called me if you hadn't already decided. You just wanted me to tell you that you made the right decision."
Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself. Anyway, this is why I can't do the next project with you.
"I understand. It won't be our last chance to work together."
Good. I can still edit it for you if you want. It'll just have to be your own script this time.
"I'd like that. I gotta get back to the writer's room."
So, this would be where Petey tries to tell Colby that he kissed Sam?
"Yeah."
Is he going to tell him?
"No, Colby wants to think he'd be okay with it as long as Petey comes to him first, but you and I both know he's not there, not yet at least. I'm going to have Petey chicken out."
When does Colby finally make peace with Petey and Sam being together?
"I don't know if he ever does. Certainly not while they're still in school."
I'm sure he'll get there eventually.
"Eventually."
I'll let you get back to the episode. I need to make that call. Love you.
"Always."
New York, New York
Joey hung up the phone with Dawson. Pacey was getting ready to leave for the restaurant.
"Everything good with Dawson?"
"Yeah, he's just writing the episode where you take him to your old camping spot."
"You know, he pulled that noble bullcrap with me when he started to date my sister. Told me that things would have been different if he had a proper conversation with him before he found out on his own. Nothing would have been different."
"He knows that now. That's why he's having so much trouble writing the episode. He needs it to make sense and keep Colby in character."
"I see. Why didn't Dawson and Gretchen work out? He's ten times better than any of the jerk wads she's dated since."
"I think you know why. And if you hadn't exploded at me at prom, maybe they actually would have stayed together, at least through the summer."
"I thought I was doing the right thing."
"So does everyone who tries to make other people's decisions for them."
"You might be on to something there. Okay, I'm off."
He kissed her goodbye, and she sat down. After a few minutes, she called Professor Wilder.
Hey, good to hear from you so soon. Congratulations.
"Thanks, Prof-, David."
See, you're getting the hang of it.
"So, I've been thinking about what you asked me."
And?
"I really want to do it. This is a huge honor. You know how much I worship you. You were my mentor, and the opportunity to work with you like this, I'm so flattered."
Why do I sense there is a 'but' coming?
"Because there is. I was going to say, but it wouldn't be my own. Mr. Donovan asked me to publish my own novel, and I can't do both, not with the wedding coming up. I'm sure you have your own publication deadlines, and Mr. Donovan wants to get this out right away while the Oscar buzz is still fresh."
I see. No big loss.
Joey was about to explode, but then she remembered a similar conversation they had in college.
"You're saying that it's no big loss to my career, right? Not that it's no big loss to your novel?"
I once told you that by now you'd know everything I knew and more, and I was right. You've got the gift, Joey Potter. You don't need me as a co-author. Whatever you write will be brilliant. It will touch the hearts and minds of thousands, if not millions, of readers. The only limits you have to worry about are the ones you impose on yourself.
"Thanks, David."
Besides, I'll always be writing more novels, and I'll always be happy to have you on board when you're ready. Maybe we can do the next one, or the one after.
"Maybe we can."
It was the kind of maybe that they both knew meant never.
Take care of yourself, Joey.
"Goodbye, David."