SUMMER 2007
I laid there that night, wondering how one day could end so differently than how it started. I woke up that morning, not knowing if I could face another miserable day. And then, there I was that night, wrapped firmly in his arms, my head in his chest and our clothes still abandoned on the floor. I was consumed by the feeling that I was exactly where I was meant to be. However, In that moment, on that night, I was totally unaware of the things to come. When I think back to that night, I usually think of it as one of the happiest nights of my entire life. But other times, I think of it as the quiet before the storm.
GUEST HOUSE 2020
I wake up in a momentary haze of confusion before I remember where I am and I glance at my phone. It's 5:15am. I look over at Bo, sleeping soundly under a mess of blankets on the floor. I hate that he's sleeping there, but he insisted I take the bed. I glance around the room, that after cleaning up last night, is now looking much more prepared for a day of work. While I worked on that, I spoke to Chris while Bo was still showering in the main house. The guilt from that phone call still twists around in my stomach. I told him I saw Bo, and that he was fine, just wanting to be left alone to do his work. Of course he asked where I'd be staying until I could get approved to fly in a couple of weeks. I hadn't even stopped to think of what I was going to say to him, so I panicked and told him I was staying with Amy, an old friend of mine from college.
I roll over, burying my face in the pillow. Chris isn't even the first man I've lied to when it comes to Bo. I thought things would be different by now. It's been five years since I've seen him. But I couldn't tell Chris the truth about me staying with Bo, because he would obviously demand I do the opposite. But, I was sold on the idea of having one last, one-on-one with him. Sure, we have a history—a very long, complicated history. But, maybe this is where we can finally circle back around to the friendship that started it all.
I turn my head, watching Bo as he sleeps; The gentle, quiet, rise and fall of his breathing. His hair, that hangs just past the top of his ears, curls slightly at the ends from the residual dampness from the shower the night before. My eyes begin to flutter, and as I begin to drift back to sleep, my mind wanders back to that summer when our friendship blossomed into unadulterated desire.
It was truly—The Summer - Of - LOVE…
SUMMER 2007
The song 'Do It Alone' by Sugarcult, blasted through Bo's speakers, sending vibrations down my back where he had me pinned against his bedroom wall. He stood with my legs folded over the bend in his arms, his palms pressed to the wall, as we melted into our own blissful rhythm.
"Oh- fuck, Sidney," he groaned, under his breath, with a slow exaggerated eye roll. I had a new found appreciation for the drastic difference in our heights, because he could do SO much to my body, with ease. I gripped the back of his neck, with a small gasp and marveled at the way he bites his lip when it starts to get too much for him.
That summer, after our first night together, everything we used to spend time doing was replaced with sex, sex, sex and more, SEX.
"Did you lock the door?," I barely got out.
"Yes," he picked up the pace.
"Are you sure because I— " I gasp, my GOD he feels so good. " -I feel like I heard something,"
He flashed THE hottest grin I've ever seen, leaning in, pressing his cheek against mine. "We're all alone, Sidney," he practically groaned into my ear.
He pulled me away from the wall and tossed me on the edge of the bed. He slid his arms under my knees and lifted them to his hips. One push and I knew I wasn't going to make it another few seconds.
"Oh, shit!" Bo, snatched a blanket over my bare chest, looking over my head towards the door.
"OH—My –God!" I heard Bo's sister, Sara practically scream. She was gone in a flash, the door slammed back shut. She was howling with laughter out in the hall. "Lock the door, Bo. You idiot!"
Nobody until that point had any idea that we were together. We decided to keep it under wraps so our parents wouldn't suspect anything and question when, and if, we were alone together.
Bo looked down at my horrified expression. "So- it turns out, I didn't lock the door."
The pool in the back was being filled in. Bo's dad didn't want to deal with the upkeep anymore since most of the kids were away in college and the other was approaching. Construction workers were everywhere, so the pool house was temporarily off the map. So, instead, we found anything, anywhere, to be alone. His car, the shower—that one was EXTRA fun. Many times in my room, because my parents were out of town the most and one day when his house was ACTUALLY empty, we didn't even make it all the way up the stairs.
I mean, what can I say? It was new, it was fun, and we were feeling wild and free as we took on the summer, enjoying every moment of being seventeen.
GUEST HOUSE 2020
Bo and I are finally awake and ready to get to work at the crack ass of NOON. We have some coffee, along with some chit chat about whatever the hell is going on with coins and he helps me get the rest of my luggage out of the rental.
Finally, I'm settled in front of the keyboard where he asked me to sit, while I watch him, pull out cables, roll in a huge spot light, and take out almost every single piece of film equipment I put up last night. I guess I get it now. What's the use in putting it away at all? He turns out the overhead cannisters and the room falls dark.
"What will you be doing in this part?" I ask.
"Degrading a sock puppet," he answers casually, flipping on the spot light. He notices my wide eyed stare. "It's a duet—You'll like it."
I nod, more confidently than I actually feel, cringing against the bright light. I believe in him and his work—but, the puzzle pieces of information I've gotten so far, seem to be getting less artsy and more certifiable.
"I need to see this directly through the camera real quick," he says, pulling his hair back and leaning into the display, "these external monitors are great but sometimes they aren't true to the color."
I suddenly feel the need to find a distraction from his 'serious working eyes' and immediately notice a synthetic blue rose, sitting on a desk against the wall, just out of reach.
"What's this for?" I lean to grab it.
"Sidney, sit still," he fusses. "I'm doing a tight shot, I might need additional color. Just-sit there and try to be me."
I laugh at the notion and start poking at the keys. The random notes echo through the room. "Oh look! I'm Bo Burnham! I've got a microphone and you don't! You're all a bunch of CHUMPS!"
He shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
I quiet myself for a while and take time to watch him work. Moving from camera to camera. He taps the settings on the displays for what seems like half hours at a time. He nudges the spotlight a half inch to the left, then to the right. He jots down sporadic little notes and then readjust the camera. We have a few little snippets of conversation from time to time but it's generally him giving me direction on how to reposition.
"It's really nice of Elle to give you the creative space you need for a project like this," I say eventually.
He looks up from the camera with a strange look on his face, like he's just now tuned back into the reality that there's another human in the room.
"Yeah—she's always been cooperative with whatever I'm working on, I guess," he says rubbing the back of his neck, probably sore from craning over the cameras. "So, what about computer boy? Does he handle your workload ok?" The sound of arrogance returns.
"His name is Chris," I shoot back.
"I don't care," He strides over to the dresser he uses to store smaller equipment pieces and begins rifling through it.
"Bo, why are you being such an ass over someone you've never even met?"
He finds some kind of small cable and pulls it out with a sigh. "Jesus, Sid—my bad. CHRIS, the computer boy."
"Omigod." I rub my face trying to center my growing anger. He returns back to the camera, fidgeting with the small cable and notices my irritation.
"What? Why are you being so sensitive all the sudden?" He asks, sounding legitimately irritated.
"Because, you're acting like a child!" I stand up, the keyboard stool, squealing against the floor. That defense switch that exists in Bo has now been flipped. His head snaps up and he appears from the darkness behind the spotlight, now standing inches from me.
"That—," He points his finger at me like a dagger, " -right there. Out of all the SHIT- that I've been called in my life—and I've been called a LOT of shit. That- is THE most accurate description of me," He shakes his head, sitting down in a chair among the cameras. "Open those emerald eyes, Sidney. I know I'm a child. Look around you. I have a ghillie suit shoved back there in the stove I don't use. You know, so I can verbally and publicly throw stones at Jeffrey Bezos."
I sigh and look down at my feet. "All I'm saying is, maybe you could put some effort into being respectful of the life I have now. I mean, I don't necessarily want to talk about Elle, but, I was just trying to include your life outside of me," I say crossing my arms and looking up at him. He's looking at me, sadness in the forefront of his expression. I can tell his mind is full of things he's not saying and that makes me all the more frustrated.
"I get what you're saying," he begins, "Honestly, I appreciate your effort, but I'd rather not talk about Elle, unless it's absolutely necessary."
"Why?"
"You know why, Sidney. I still feel guilty for what happened with all that—what I did to you- and I just don't want to think about it." He sighs and rakes his hair back with both hands.
I almost visibly cringe. "Yeah, I'd rather not think about it either."
An uncomfortable silence falls over us. Bo, leans forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, back to the original subject. I'm sorry- I apologize. How does Chris, the reputable, successful and mature, software developer, handle your little workaholic spirit?"
I sit back down on the stool at the keyboard and shrug. "I mean, he does fine with the actual time I spend working. His job is pretty time consuming to. But, we do struggle with the times in between. You know how it is. You can leave this room all you want, but your mind is still in this room. And it'll stay that way until it's done."
He nods, processing my words. "Yeah, I know the feeling all too well."
"Bo?" I say, after a few quiet moments.
"Yeah?"
"Did you say you have a ghillie suit in your oven?"
A while later, Bo has moved on from the 'sock puppet degrading' scene and he's now busying himself, clearing out the front corner of the room to work on the lighting for another. I use that time to call my editor and catch up on the latest notes as I pace back and forth on the porch. As I listen to Phil go on and on about moving some story plots around, I feel the soft breeze coming up from the valley and I have a moment where I truly miss living in California. New York, sometimes feels like it's closing in on me.
After the call I head back into the guest house and Bo has set up a series of lights in the corner he cleared out. He's anchoring a light diffuser on the tallest light when he looks up.
"Okay, ready to be a little Guinea pig again?" He asks with a smile.
"I couldn't imagine doing anything more rewarding," I joke, thankful the mood has lifted again.
As I join him over by the corner, I'm waiting for him to tell me what to do but I notice he's just looking at me.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I just—I really appreciate you sticking around and helping me out for a bit. I know you have things you need to be doing but this is really speeding up pre-production. It just really means a lot."
I smile, "It's no problem, really. I'm happy to help."
He nods, "Okay—I need you to lay flat on your back with your head under this light," he points to the ring light, sitting only a couple of feet from the floor.
"I'm almost afraid to ask at this point," I say as I kneel down and get situated under the light. "but—what's this apart of?"
He huffs a small laugh, "Mocking white girls content on Instagram."
"Ah, there's that Burnham brand I'm used to," I laugh.
Once I'm on the floor looking up at the ring light, Bo sits on the floor next to me and starts adjusting and fastening a camera behind it. He's looking particularly relaxed, with bare feet, black knee length shorts and a loose, cream color, 'Death Cab For Cutie' t-shirt. I watch him as he works, the lights reflecting off me and the floor, casting a faint glow across his face.
A gentle hurt creeps up on me, and I search for the reason behind it. I realize it's because I'm trying to take in every detail of him In this moment. His eyes, so focused and full of thought, the way his lashes cast a shadow on the top of his cheeks when he looks down at the monitor in his lap. The way he twists and tugs the corners of his mouth when he concentrates. The way his hair falls forward when he looks down and how he swings his head slightly to get it out of the way when he looks back up. All of these things I'm trying to commit to memory and I know it's because I feel like this will be the last time I'll ever get the chance to look at him this closely.
"Okay, I need to adjust the color on this," he says after a few minutes. He takes the little monitor from his lap and kicks his legs out behind him, laying on his stomach. He slides forward, his body running across my side as he joins me under the light.
His face hovers over mine, as he holds the monitor in the little bit of space between us. He peers at the screen, while adjusting the color with his other hand on the ipad laying nearby. The lights change subtly every few seconds while I try to ignore the bare skin of his legs against mine.
"Okay, this is perfect," he says quietly, landing on a hue that works for him. He moves the little monitor away from my face, his blue eyes meeting mine. I expect him to move any second and hate myself for dreading the feeling. But as the seconds tick by, his eyes soften as he looks down at me.
"I should get up now," he says quietly.
I nod.
He touches his thumb to my chin, his brows pulling together in a momentary look of pain. I watch him battle himself while I lay there, stuck with one side of me screaming to end this now. The other side of me knowing I've never wanted anything more.
"I should get up," he repeats in a whisper. His thumb tugs my chin, parting my lips and he lowers his mouth to mine. His lips are warm and familiar. I close my eyes and lose myself immediately in the depth of his kiss, his tongue dancing with mine. I feel his hand slide under my neck, his beard brushing against my skin, a new addition, along with the feeling of his lengthy hair that my fingers have woven into. My body responds quickly to him, still remembering everything he's given it.
Thunder from outside, breaks into the silence of the guest house and suddenly, he pulls away, quickly getting back on his feet. I feel a haze of confusion mixed with lingering bliss and I pull my weak body to a sitting position. I look up at Bo, his back is turned to me, his hands raked into his hair.
"Bo?" I say, as I stand up.
He turns halfway, looking at me over his shoulder. The hurt in his eyes is devastating.
"I'm sorry, Sid," he says. Before I can say anything, he crosses the room and leaves the guest house. I jump as the door slams shut and another round of thunder rolls overhead.
SUMMER 2007
Lightning lit up the night sky as we ran across the lawn, through the sheets of rain to the pool house, that we finally had all to ourselves again. We charged through the French doors and into the darkness of the room. Bo closed the doors behind us and smiled as he approached where I stood, leaning back against the wall, laughing breathlessly at how soaked we were. He reached out, pulling my dripping hair over the back of my shoulder. My laugh began to quiet when I noticed his expression had fallen into serious intensity.
He reached out without a word and slipped the strap of my sun dress off of my shoulder. Leaning down he kissed my rain soaked skin over my collar bone, brushing his lips just a little over and kissing again. I felt little, cold drops of rain from the ends of his hair, sprinkle my shoulder. Then he kissed my neck and I closed my eyes with a sigh, tilting my head back. He ran his warm hand under my dress, pulling my undies away from my skin and touched me, rendering my knees almost useless. Then he withdrew his hand and leaned back up, leaving me almost writhing.
"Sidney," he said so quietly. His eyes were soft but he gazed at me in a way that brought me back to earth. Lightning flashed through the room, reflecting in his eyes and thunder rattled the windows.
"What is it?" I say reaching up, running my fingers across his jawline.
He closed his eyes, feeling my touch and opened them again. "I'm so—so in love with you, Sid" he said. -I think I stopped breathing-"I don't know what our life will become. And—I don't know where it'll lead us. But I swear I'm going to love you for the rest of it."