He glanced at his watch as he tore the door open walking through the room with determined steps. His mind registered the astonished assistant, who apparently knew better than to approach or try to stop a man as determined as he looked at that moment.
He walked to the familiar door tearing it open without a knock.
"Just what the hell do you think you are doing?" he asked as he walked into the office, coming to stand in front of an astonished Jess.
He looked up from behind his desk, seemingly startled but somehow not at all shocked.
"Tristan" he murmured "my thoughts exactly" he said, his words cynical.
Tristan sneered, walking up to the desk and placing his hands onto it.
"Get your ass up" he gritted out "we can make the 2:30 flight back and still be on time."
Jess leaned back in his chair, sighing.
"Tristan" he said "although I enjoy you flying your ass down here regularly to drag me to New York..." his words dripping with sarcasm.
"I don't have time for this Mariano" he said, his fists clenching.
"I'm not going" Jess said, his face serious.
"I don't know what you are fucking doing" Tristan pushed himself off the desk, taking a step back "but she needs you, okay?"
"Trust me, she doesn't" Jess gritted out, seemingly annoyed.
"Is this some sick ploy to play the brooding intellect?" Tristan spat and he immediately regretted his words. This was the old Tristan, angry and uncensored. He thought that Tristan was gone, he worked hard on that. He kept his urges in check now and he didn't slip often.
Jess scoffed, shaking his head and Tristan hated him in that moment for having better control over his responses.
"Look" Jess said, raising his hand "She is good at this. She may dread it, but she's always been good at this. Standing up and speaking and dressing up pretty and charming everyone. She'll do great" he said and Tristan saw his demeanor falter, as though he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Tristan.
"I know she'll do great" he cut him off, his voice bitter "I have no fucking doubt she won't do exceptionally great. I am not talking about that. I am talking about being there to support her. I am talking about her being able to look out on that crowd and see a fucking face that makes her feel strong. And if that means dragging fucking Barry Manilow into that fucking gallery, than that's what I'll do."
Jess' face scrunched and he saw the guilt inflicted there as the man dropped his gaze to the papers scattered on his desk. He knew that expression and he recognized the moment. He'd experienced it more than once in the courtroom. The moment where he won. Not the moment that the jury announced the verdict, but the moment when he felt the room shift, when he knew, with extreme certainty that he made his point. That he convinced everyone.
"I'm not sure I'm one of those faces, Tristan" Jess murmured with the loss of the convicted "Just trust me on this one, okay?" he said, his voice pleading, despite being strong and calm.
"Shut the hell up. I don't need your fucking self loathing, okay? She trusts you. And she looks up to you. Having your support means the fucking world to her, so I don't care what your issue is. Get over it" he said, turning around as he walked out of the office.
"I hope you have a fucking suit somewhere around here" he murmured as he heard Jess rise from his seat with a sigh.
xxxxxxx
He glanced at Jess' nervous leg, that's been restless since the minute they got into the cab on the airport. The guy hadn't said a thing to him during the whole trip from Philadelphia back to New York and to be honest, he was grateful. He still felt annoyed at having had to play the bounty hunter once again and he felt even more annoyed at the fact that they were now 27 minutes late for Rory's book launch party.
He had 8 missed calls from her and even though he felt insanely guilty, he opted not to call her back the minute they touched down on the runway. She would see soon enough why he was late when they walked in the door.
"Is it backed up real bad?" he asked the cab driver, leaning forward.
The guy grunted back a response, but he could see it for himself, the long line of bright yellow taxi cabs blocking up the street.
He sighed, leaning back into his seat, glancing at Jess, who was apparently lost in thought, his legs still bouncing a mile a minute.
"Come on, it's only three blocks away" he said, finally getting tired of waiting. He tossed the driver a couple of bills and was already out on the curb, hearing Jess open his door right behind him.
He half-ran down the street, trying to avoid the passers by and checking to see if Jess had fallen behind. He kept up and Tristan was grateful.
He finally saw the gallery they were heading towards, a posh and artsy place that the PR people settled on for the event. It was seemingly packed and he was half relieved and half nervous for Rory.
He was sure she could handle it and Jess was right, she was flawless when it came to performing in front of a crowd, even with her natural shyness and down to earth self. But he couldn't help the nagging feeling that his sudden, unexplained absence all day must have been hurtful for her. She would understand, he told himself, and quickened his steps, exhaling in relief when his hand finally reached out to open the glass door of the gallery. He flashed the invitation to the assistant at the door and made his way inside, hearing Jess follow behind.
He came to stop close to the entrance, the crowd of people becoming more thick further ahead. He raised slightly on his feet, to be able to see over their heads and see what was happening.
Emma was standing in the center with the mike and as far as he could tell, she was making an introduction. His eyes traveled from her towards the figure standing next to her and his heartbeat sped up, noticing Rory in her green dress that had been hanging in their bedroom for the past three days.
She looked breathtaking. Her figure was accentuated by the flowing chiffon dress, her legs long and lean, with the delicate heels strapped onto her ankles. Her hair was swept to the side, ending in soft curls that fell down her shoulders. She looked nervous and tense and his chest tightened as he watched her scan the room.
Her eyes finally met his and a myriad of emotions passed through her face. He could identify relief and anger and confusion and finally shock as her eyes traveled on to his right.
He glanced to where she was looking and saw Jess step up next to him. He nodded slightly with his head and exhaled slowly.
Tristan glanced back at Rory, whose face lit up with a small smile, before her gaze fell back onto him.
He sighed an accomplished smile as he saw her features visibly relax. Her eyes sparkled as he mouthed him a 'thank you' and he couldn't help but smile, nodding in return.
Those mouthed words, that look on her face, that slow relaxing of her body that he could notice from across a crowded room was worth all the trouble and anxiety that he had to go through while racing to another state to collect some delusional mentor.
He felt like the superhero in her comic book.
He exhaled another breath and relaxed himself, not taking his eyes off of Rory as he concentrated on Emma's words.
"...and thus, Rory Gilmore's first novel was embraced by Truncheon and we are proud of presenting her to you tonight. Here tonight, to talk about the newest addition to our line up this year is co-founder of Truncheon, Chris Newton."
Emma finished and stepped aside, allowing a tall guy to take the mike.
"Thank you Emma. I am delighted to speak to you tonight about this wonderful book... but I actually think that there is a more suitable person for that" the guy said with a grin as he zeroed in on Jess in the crowd, "Jess Mariano, who discovered Rory's incredible talent."
The crowd murmured surprised, as people started to turn around, glancing towards Jess, and Tristan turned to watch as he squirmed visibly under the scrutiny.
He sighed, closing his eyes for a second as if wishing he'd stayed put in his office, before he slowly walked to make his way to the front, through the parting crowd.
Tristan glanced back up at Rory, who was smiling thankfully glancing from him to Jess and back.
Tristan could now pick out her family, standing a little off to the side, with her grandparents looking proud if a bit out of place and Lorelai and Chris and Luke all standing in a close group.
He caught Lorelai's gaze and she seemed surprised and thankful at the same time, her face full of warm emotion as she met Tristan's eyes.
He gave her a small nod and glanced back to where Jess was now finally making his way up to Rory. He gave her a quick hug and slowly took the mike into his hand.
"Good evening" he said, his voice deep and slightly humbled.
He glanced around the room, more annoyed than nervous and took a deep breath.
"I wasn't going to be here tonight" he started, glancing briefly at Tristan "I wanted to let Rory's words speak for themselves" he went on, looking at her as Rory smiled, blushing slightly.
"Because I truly think that her words will, on their on accord and without any hype" he went on and Rory's blush turned deeper.
Jess glanced back at her again, taking a deep breath as if trying to collect his thoughts.
"I've known Rory for a long time" he finally said, and his voice was quiet, dreamy almost "I've known her before she knew herself..." he chuckled and the crowd laughed with him "and even back then... when she was mostly walking around in plaid skirts and knee high socks... I could tell she had things to say and places to go."
"And I so wanted to watch her go and hear her speak" he said, his gaze drifting off to focus on the floor.
The sentence made Tristan tense for an unknown reason and he glanced at Rory, seeing her smile falter and her posture tense.
It left him feeling uneasy.
"Wanted to see all that she could uncover and learn. Wanted to hear her reason and logic, because she has this incredible way of seeing things. Incredible way of realizing things."
"She isn't without faults" he continued and Tristan felt an odd sense of anxiety rise within him as the words floated towards him over the silenced room.
"... but she has a natural grace with which she overcomes those faults, for which she makes up for and moves on from."
Tristan glanced back at Rory who seemed lost in thought, her face serious, showing no trace of the smile or happiness she was showing just moments before. She sighed, and he could see her chest rising shakily. He concentrated on her, her forehead creasing slightly as if she were considering Jess' words, but not really agreeing, as if she felt undeserving... shameful almost.
"That grace translates to her writing and I found myself rereading her words over and over again. Because it made me see things... differently... made me reconsider" he said, his words faltering slightly.
Tristan glanced back at Jess, surprised by the emotion seeping through his words.
"When you read this book... you find a different perspective... you find incredible wisdom and solemnity... but it's in layers... and you experience it with the protagonist... learning from life and memories and the little pieces of information that she gathers... that Rory gathers along the way."
Jess' words continued to reach him and his heartbeat sped up, the meaning of the words leaving a growing ache inside of him.
They seemed true and too real, too personal. He wondered if anyone else had that feeling besides him in the room. He felt a pair of eyes on him and his silent question was answered as his gaze met with Lorelai's worried one.
She was looking at him with an uneasy expression and Tristan suddenly had trouble swallowing. He glanced back at Jess, who continued to talk.
"This book is a glimpse into her mind, her soul... and it is a beautiful one, so you should be thankful and honored... as am I for having the opportunity."
"Rory" he said and Tristan watched as she glanced up, looking slightly startled "You were right."
There was a moment of silence and Tristan held his breath, the crowded room around him melting away as he watched the two persons at the front of the room.
"Everything has a reason and everything has meaning. And this book holds a lot more meaning to me than I could express" Jess said and finished his speech, letting his hand fall holding the mike.
Rory stared at him, the two standing looking at each other as the room watched in astonished silence.
Tristan breathed in deep, his mind buzzing from the words that Jess had delivered.
He had a growing nagging feeling inside of him that he couldn't quite identify. As if he had the answer to some unknown question nagging in the back of his mind just waiting to be revealed.
He thought of their initial meeting in Philadelphia, his reluctance to communicate with Rory, as if there were something holding him back, something making him feel like it wasn't his place to read her words. He thought of what the cause for that was. He thought it was his infatuation... his persisting love for her... but shouldn't that have propelled him to participate... shouldn't that have made him eager?
There was a loud applause breaking and he awoke from his trance startled, joining in.
He watched as the mike was handed back to Emma, who thanked Jess for his words and proceeded to talk about the release of the book.
Tristan's eyes wandered back to Rory who was once again focusing on the floor, with Jess standing next to her.
There was something about her demeanor. Something he couldn't quite name.
Why was he not planing to come here? Even though it obviously meant the world to him.
This morning, in his annoyance, he thought it was manipulation on his part, his absence a supposed cry for attention.
But his words now, were so honest, so humble, so adoring. And her reaction... so guilty.
The word reverberated in his brain with a loud echo.
His breathing hitched, his collar suddenly feeling too tight.
She was mad at him initially for taking the book to Jess... but why hadn't she taken it herself? What was stopping her? She had said she wanted to do this on her own, but that made no sense. What could make her keep this from someone she obviously looked to for appraisal?
Guilt.
The single word suddenly invaded his conscious, setting his body in burning ache.
He stared back at Rory, watching her face downcast.
It reminded her of the way she looked when they were... apart... at her grandparents' party... or standing before his doorway as she would knock, ashamed and weak... or when they got back together and she insisted on knowing what happened with Anna.
His heart suddenly seemed to stop.
A sharp pain thundered through his chest as he glanced from Rory to Jess and back again.
He felt a wave of nausea rise from deep within him, his legs buckling as his arms went out to steady himself. He staggered backwards, his sight going fuzzy as he stumbled, turning on his heel, dragging himself towards the door.
He tore it open, stumbling through onto the evening sidewalk. He took in a large breath, waiting for the cool relief that the air would bring, but instead he felt his chest feel more tight, a reflex at the sudden humidity and warmth.
He looked up in confusion, barely making out the swelling clouds in the night sky.
He felt a distant break of thunder, as if on cue, and he felt another wave of nausea hit him.
He looked around, frantically moving towards the dark alley only a couple of feet away. His right hand reached out, steadying himself against the rough brick wall as he leaned forward emptying his guts onto the dark ground.
He coughed and gagged, sucking in the air to try to fill his lungs, to get control back over his body, but his mind was spinning and he had to close his eyes in order to brace himself.
He took deep breaths, counting them, concentrating on nothing but the numbers, a method he learned way back in military school. The rhythmic counting had a calming effect, slowly allowing him to push away the disturbing thoughts and images that had flooded his brain. When he opened his eyes, he was calm, although the devastating anxiety in his chest remained as a dull ache.
"Tristan" he heard his voice and he closed his eyes again, leaning back against the bricks.
The nausea returned, although not as strong as the initial one, slowly replaced instead by anger and rage.
He heard footsteps and he opened his eyes to see Jess. He was calm, unashamed and Tristan suddenly felt an incredible urge to launch at him, to knock him down, to tear into his flesh.
He watched as Jess slowly came to stop in front of him, his eyes studying him carefully.
He made no effort to control his face, knowing full well that the disgust would be present on his face.
"You still think it was a good idea to bring me here?" the brunet asked, his voice void of mocking.
Tristan sneered, the urge to punch him back with a vengeance.
"She went to see you last year, when we were broken up" he gritted out, through clenched teeth and he barely recognized his own voice.
Jess didn't show any shock or guilt.
"Yes" he answered, his voice emotionless.
The darkness of the alley cast a shadow on his face and Tristan felt himself crumble beneath the weight of the words.
He slowly slid to the ground, the brick wall scraping his back through the suit.
Jess mirrored his movements on the other side of the alley and the two stared at each other quietly as the sounds of the busy New York street penetrated into the dark alley.
"She came and said she left you" came Jess' voice and Tristan's fists clenched at the choice of words. He couldn't tell if they were a deliberate choice or just mere facts, but it made his breathing ragged nevertheless.
"She seemed broken" he went on and Tristan had to close his eyes, knowing what was coming next, "and I couldn't deny her, because I never could..."
"I don't want to hear it, Jess" he broke him off, the wave of nausea once again hitting him with full force.
The brunet complied and he once again wished Jess wouldn't have so much self control so he could justify having none at all himself. He imagined the leaps it would get him to get to the other side of the alley, his body already gearing itself for the punch he would deliver.
He had to close his eyes again and exhale a long breath to calm himself.
"It took me a while to realize, it could have been anyone" came Jess' quiet, contemplative words.
"Still, it had to be you" Tristan gritted out, his words bitter.
"Yeah well, sometimes I wish it weren't" came the quiet confession and Tristan opened his eyes to study the other guy across from him. He saw the same expression he was wearing this morning in his office in Philadelphia, the same he was wearing the first time Tristan went to him with the novel. The expression he saw as self centered brooding before slowly changed, making him see more clearly. It was an expression of defeat. A confession of hurt and loss.
He couldn't quite muster the sympathy.
Even though he knew what it was like to feel emotionally robbed and falling at the feet of Rory Gilmore.
"You know how you know that Rory's in love with someone else when she kisses you?" he heard Jess ask, as he leaned back against his own brick wall, producing a humorless chuckle.
"She cries" Tristan replied bitterly, knowing the answer all too well himself, and the two stared at each other knowingly.
There was a silent minute as the unwanted bond surely solidified between the two.
"She's in love with you" Jess said finally, his voice quiet, defenseless, "she was in love with you back then too."
Tristan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out his words, trying to get rid of the pulsating pain in his head, his chest, his guts.
"I don't know anymore" he whispered.
"Don't do that, man" Jess groaned and Tristan felt the nausea return.
"Don't start feeling sorry for yourself, because in the end, you get to wake up with her" Jess said, his tone accusing.
"And wonder for the rest of my life when I'll lose her. Or when she'll change her mind? Or when her mother once again decides I am public enemy number one?" he spat.
"Still worth it" came Jess' response and Tristan chuckled letting the back of his head hit the brick wall behind him.
The sentiment echoed in the dark alley and he was glad for the cover, for the sanctuary, because he knew that only seconds ago he would have said that too, would have shouted it in front of that room full of people, from the fucking rooftop if needed.
But now.
Now he was hiding in an alley with someone who's been trampled on as many times as he had, by the same woman. With someone who still could, after all that had happened, be dragged across the country to fall at her feet and declare his devotion.
The two sat quietly, the air heavy around them. Tristan felt the first drops of rain on his face, the cool drops the first comfortable feeling he had felt for the past minutes.
He closed his eyes, counting the drops hitting his face, until it was hard to tell them apart.
He got up slowly, his head feeling clear, his feet steady, despite the aching in his chest.
He took a step towards the street.
"She'll be worried" Jess warned him, but he didn't respond, walking out onto the street into the rain, hearing Jess sigh as he turned the corner and walked past the gallery and down the quickly emptying street.