Uninvited.
He had been back patted and hand shook by everyone in Hollywood. At least, it felt like he had been. Everyone grinned and clapped as he walked into the Governor's ball earlier that evening, still clutching the golden statue that he thought he would never win.
It was made even sweeter when the film went on the win best picture. 'Oscar material' was what all the critics said. 'The poignant tale of a daughter trying to discover the lost secrets of her dead mother,'
Yeah, it was an obvious thing to write. Anyone who knew him would have known what he was trying to do. He wanted to make something for Jen. For Amy, Jack and Doug too.
Part of him wanted to win the year before though, for his film about two lovers separated by circumstance. He was an open book sometimes, things just flooded out in his screenplays and before he knew it, he had re-written another chapter of his life. He wanted validation that his emotions were legitimate, that the love he had felt for her would not be swept under the rug.
The love he still felt for her.
When he awoke that morning 3 years ago, all traces of Gretchen had left his mind. It was all Joey. If he were honest with himself, Gretchen had been a reaction to hearing about her and Pacey. He was so wrapped up in his grief that when she called him from New York he let the news wash over him like a gentle wave. Later that week Gretchen had come to the offices to offer her condolences for Jen and he fell into a relationship with her. He had just about convinced himself that he could love her again when he went to New York. He knew why he really went there, to see Joey. He walked around her neighbourhood for hours, nervous for some reason. The choice was ultimately taken away from him when he ran head long into her. He remembered her hair blowing in the breeze, her nose red with cold.
That morning, alone in a strange bed in a strange city, was one of the lowest moments of his life. He called her cell, work and home numbers but all of them disconnected. Her e-mail address had been closed and the doorman at her builder had been told not to give him admittance. She had just gone.
He shook the thought out of his head and re-concentrated his eyes onto the unfolding Hollywood hills scenery, anything to distract him from the drama brewing in the back of the limo. He glanced over to his wife, she was still scowling. She had scowled all the way through the ball and onto the after show party. He could understand. A passing mention in his acceptance speech and a huge rambling love declaration for his lost love was not going to solidify his already shaky marriage.
The limo pulled through the gates of the home he shared with his wife and made its way up the driveway. He hated the house. Always had. It was large, impersonal and full of useless and expensive furniture. He had been away filming when she had picked it. They had happily been living in a small beach house, filled full of furniture that he had bought when he first moved over to California. He remembered sending Joey and Jen pictures of everything and asking them for advice on what was nice or not.
'We can't stay here forever Dawson! It's not very secure…' was all she said about it when he asked. Still mending his broken heart, completely washed out by work and missing his family, he just gave her access to his money and went off to film on location. When he returned, they were living the Hollywood dream, all his furniture had gone to goodwill and a wedding was pretty much planned without him.
Gretchen swung the door opened and marched towards the house.
'Thanks George, hope tonight wasn't too long for you,' Dawson said to the driver as he opened the door for him.
'Never Mr Leery, always a pleasure driving you. Congratulations again,' George said, taking a tip from Dawson. He never liked taking money off the kid, but he was one of the nicest men he had ever driven.
'Thanks George, see you tomorrow,' Dawson patted him on the back and made his way up to the house. She had switched the lights on in cavernous formal living room at the front of the house. She stood next to the fire place and tapped her long fingernails on it.
'So…' she said as he entered the room. He was still clutching his Oscar, he hadn't let it go all evening.
'What?' he answered. He knew what it was about; he hated playing these games with her but yet she sucked him in every time.
'My best friend, my soul mate?' she said incredulously.
'Don't start Gretch. It's too late and I'm too tired.' He strode past her into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water out of the vast expanse inside his fridge. Why they had a fridge that big was beyond him. She never cooked and he was never in.
'So I am supposed to let you embarrass me in front of the entire world and I'm not allowed to talk to you about it?'
'I didn't intend to embarrass you. I just got carried away. I promise in all my follow up interviews I will mention you,' he downed the bottle and threw it in the trash can, walking past her again and heading for the stairs.
'You're interviews aren't what they are going to play repeatedly on the television over the next month.' She whined, following him up the stairs.
'Look, you got what you wanted okay? You got to wear the hugely expensive dress, do the Hollywood party scene. You got to do all of it. Why should you care? You didn't care when I made the damm film,'
Gretchen stopped on the stairs and looked at his back as he stormed off into his den, slamming the door behind him. His apparent anger was not going to deter her this time.
'Get out,' he said as she opened the door.
'I'm not done yet,' she retorted, lowering herself onto his couch.
'I am. Go,' he said calming, placing his Oscar in the trophy case that Gretchen had set up.
'Why did you thank her? It's not like she even acknowledges you anymore. I'd be surprised if she gave you a passing thought.'
'Get out!' he screamed, slamming the glass cabinet with such force it shattered.
She remained unmoved. Growing up in a family where casual moments of aggression were common place had made her all but numb to Dawson's occasional outbursts.
'Touchy touchy,' she teased. She knew how to push his buttons.
'What do you want from me? Do you want me to release a statement saying that I was not in sound mind when I accepted my Oscar and I didn't mean to thank my best friend?'
'Listen to yourself Dawson; she's not your best friend anymore. She cut you and my brother out of her life.'
'Your brother cut himself out of her life when he cheated on her,' Dawson replied coolly.
'Only because she wasn't all there, wasn't giving him what he wanted. He would never had run to Andie if Joey would have been there for him.' Gretchen continued to tighten to rack stretching Dawson's heart.
'Cut to the chase…'
'You promised. You said once the Oscars were out of the way we could have a child.' She said, her tone softening.
Dawson ran his hand through his hair. The last ting he wanted to do was add a child to his already failing marriage.
'I know but…'
'Oh no, not again. This is the 5th time you have promised me this and failed to come through. I'm sick of it Dawson.' She stormed out of the room and into their bedroom, slamming the door for effect after she left.
He knew she wanted him to follow her into their bedroom to continue the argument but Dawson was sick and tired. He wanted to escape, anywhere would be good. He considered his commitments carefully. He had no other film work lined up, The Creek had wrapped last year and he had nothing written. He was drained emotionally and creatively. A holiday perhaps?
The idea of being stuck with Gretchen anywhere made him shiver. He didn't hate her, that wasn't it. When they were first together they were pleasant enough. She wasn't Joey but Dawson knew he couldn't pine after a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. And then he cast her as a film reviewer on The Creek, based loosely on the one night stand he had with a girl once in Boston, mostly because she had charmed her way in with the executives over a dinner party. She wasn't a bad actress but the audiences loved the connection between the director and little known novice. The network insisted she join the cast, at least for the rest of the season. So the writers wrote her in awkwardly, rubbing the rest of the cast up the wrong way. Audrey especially.
He smiled when he thought of Audrey, all blonde hair and smiles. She was an amazing actress and I moment she was free he cast her as her own character, Angela based on Audrey. She was a loyal friend too. As much as he begged and pleaded to know where Joey was she wouldn't relent. She said that all he needed to know was she was fine and when she was ready, she would contact him. She never did. Audrey came to the wedding, was polite and kind to everyone but managed to upset Gretchen when she confronted Pacey about Joey.
'This isn't the time Audrey…'
'Why? Surely it wasn't the time to be cheating on Joey but whoops there you go,'
'It was wrong of me, I know that. But I had to follow my heart and Andie was that.'
'Yeah well, you could have followed your heart somewhere else then on Joey's couch,'
'Will please shut up and stop drawing attention to yourself. It's my wedding day and I will not have it ruined by an over dramatic actress with a penchant for hysteria.' Gretchen interrupted.
'Don't you mean yours and Dawson's wedding?'
'What?' she hissed under her breath, seeing that people where watching the exchange with interest.
'You said 'my' wedding day. Surely Dawson was involved somewhere down the line?' Audrey smiled and took a sip of her drink.
Gretchen glared at her and stormed off into the house.
Pacey left shortly afterwards, much to the relief of Dawson who was finding it hard to control his rage towards him. As much as he loved Andie, he couldn't understand why Pacey had done it to Joey after chasing her for so long.
A few weeks later he got a request from the executives that Audrey had to be cut from the show, too temperamental and difficult to work with were reasons given. Dawson knew it was false; Audrey had been one of his most reliable actress's. When Gretchen was questioned all she said was she had had a meeting with one of the executives about her character's development and they spoke a little of Audrey and her character's chances of making it into the final season.
'They were already gunning for her Dawson; nothing I said would have saved her. Maybe it's for the best anyway,'
Audrey shot her final scenes, had a massive leaving party and caught a plan to New York to work on Broadway. Dawson still called her and had given her bit parts in both of his movies but he could sense the distance between the two of them.
He looked down at his cell phone, switched off before the ceremony. Turning it on, he shut the doors to his den and poured himself a strong drink.
First all the text messages came through, mostly from family and friends. He had spoken to his mom from the car on the driver's phone. She had thrown a massive party and had all of the Capeside crew there, even Pacey, Andie and their child Tabitha. He could here the drunken celebrations in the background as his mother gushed about how beautiful his acceptance speech was.
'That was lovely what you said about Joey. I'm sure she will call you,'
Pressing his voicemail button he had only 3 messages, most of the industry probably calling his office number. The first from his mother asking about coming to visit and the 2nd from a very over excited Audrey, demanding a visit of her own.
He deleted both and began to listen to the third.
'Umm…Hi Dawson. It's Joey. I just wanted to say congratulations. The film is amazing and I'm so glad you got some recognition…and you were right…I am very proud of you. Bye Dawson,'
Dawson froze when he heard her voice, its freshness echoing down the phone line. He listened several times to the message, over and over again, trying to get some clue about anything. She had withheld her number so he couldn't call her back. He listened to the message again and again and again. He could feel himself drifting to sleep. Settling on his couch, resting his head on a scatter cushion, he held the phone to his ear and just kept listening to her voice.
Listening to the voice of a ghost.
