Fever Dream
(In which Ashleighcheltho67 overdoses on NyQuil and the following dream ensues.)
“Hi, babe. It’s Jenna. Look, I just flew back from Utah for the night because I’m going to be on the move for the next few weeks and need to pack a few more things. Since it’s well known I’m always ready to hop on your dick, you wanna get together for a few?’
A few minutes later she gets a text. “Can you come by and pick me up? I really don’t want you in the new place. It might give you ideas.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Later Val looks up from smelling Jenna’s hair so he can pretend to be interested in the new Neutrogena gig and yells, “Your driver is taking video!”
“Val, relax! It’s dark in here. It will be blurry video of shadows, just like last time.”
“Yeah, but you can post it and make people think I went to Utah for your cousin’s wedding with you! As If I would go to a wedding with no booze.”
“It was my brother’s wedding, and I could have done with some booze myself.”
“So you needed to come home to ‘pack’, huh? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.”
“Yes, I have a choreography gig coming up in Michigan and then a family vacation in Florida and then an appearance at a, get this, sweet sixteen party for a fan. My clothes from Canada and NY won’t work”
“A sweet sixteen party? Jenna, honey, I know the acting thing isn’t going that well, or at all, actually, but I could lend you some money if you’re short on cash.”
“No, I just told my agent to keep me out of LA as much as possible until So You Think You Can Dance starts back up.”
“But, Jenna, you know I need you here as a cover so no one catches on that I’m really here to hang around Zendaya like a lost puppy while she and Tom grab all the headlines and no one notices me anyway!”
“Yeah, I do.”
Later that night, her phone rings. “Jenna, will you take that fucking video off the internet? People think I was in Utah with you.”
“If there’s video of us fucking on the internet, I didn’t put it there,” she mumbles sleepily.
“No, the one where it looks like I’m kissing your hair.”
“You were kissing my hair.”
“I was not, I was smelling your hair product.”
“Have it your way. I’m taking the video down, poopyhead. Now let me sleep, I have a long flight in the morning.”
A week later she gets a call, “Look, Jenna, do you by any chance still have your passport on you?”
“I may have, let me see. Damn, I do, and I meant to put it back in my safety deposit box.”
“No, that’s good! I’m going on this European trip and my escort - I mean the person who was supposed to come with me - backed out and I need you to come along as my trusty sidepiece, uh, sidekick. You’ll be back in time for SYTYCD.
Oh, and do you have bathing suit?”
“I have two, we’re in Florida, remember?”
“Well, I’ll get you a third, and maybe a few hot nighties and some other barely appropriate odds and ends. Frederick’s of Hollywood is having a sale.”
“Val!”
“Okay, Victoria’s Secret it is.”
Three days later they are in Rome. “We have two days to see all the major sights here and then our ship sails.”
“Our ship? Valenna?”
“Barf. No, a cruise ship. We are going to Amalfi, Cagliari, Mallorca, Marseilles, Antibes, and Monte Carlo.”
“Mallorca? We are going to Spain?”
“Yes, just think, we are going to be there the same time Z is in Barcelona!”
“So you’re going to hook up with her?”
“No, I may miss the ship. I’ll probably just call or text or something. Oh, let’s ask this lady directions to the fountain.”
Two pictures, one with his camera, one with the lady’s and a video later, Jenna says, “You know that video is going to be all over the internet, and it was taken in broad daylight.”
“No one is going to believe we are really dating. Just that we are FWB.”
“I’m not sure the ‘benefits’ part normally includes expensive Mediterranean cruises, but okay.”
“I can wait until you get your SYTYCD paycheck before making you pay me for your half.”
A few days later, “Val, why did you post a picture of my butt with a heart-eye emoji?”
“It’s a picture of your legs. I love your legs.”
“It’s a picture of my butt. I wondered why you bought me these shorts.”
“Well, I love your butt, too.”
“People will talk.”
“I posted a picture of your face, too. With dog ears.”
“Okay, the hokey pictures of me holding a hand with a red string bracelet and the two shadows were okay, but this is straying into you admitting I’m alive territory. And why did Alan take his parody picture of the hand holding one down? I loved that picture.”
“I may have said something to him about it.”
“You never let me have any fun.”
In Mallorca:
“Tonight at dinner will you wear the black dress? I’m going to wear the white suit”
“Okay. How did the phone call to Valdaya go?”
“You mean Zendaya.”
“Yeah, I just see it the other way so often I forget.”
“I left a voicemail. I guess she’s busy.”
Later that night:
“I see you posted that picture of me.”
“I did, and in a little bit I’ll post the one you took of me across the table from you.”
“The one where you look like you are auditioning for the role of Adolpho in a bad summer theater production of The Drowsy Chaperone?”
“Just read the caption, okay?”
(At this point, Ashleighcheltho67 screams and wakes up. “Damn it’s about time I woke up. That was turning into a nightmare!”)
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