Answered. IN CHARACTER. - Tumblr Posts
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JORDAN RILEY AND DWIGHT FAIRFIELD IN SCREAM MOVIE SENTENCE STARTERS, FEAT. @deathrazed: ❛ well, you’re not going to be alone any more, right? ❜
HE’S TRYING TO BE SUPPORTIVE. she knows this, she recognizes this, she appreciates this on some level — but there’s a stale taste in her mouth as she lets the sentiment sit and dissolve. it’s been six months and things aren’t getting any better. everyone still regards her with that same pitiful look of sympathy. it doesn’t matter how well they can try to hide it — she can see it keenly behind the eyes, the weight of that oh, poor you sentiment that pushes her further down the path of pretending that everything is fine. it’s that very line she toes as she pokes at barely-touched cafeteria pasta with a fork, carefully considering her words.
❛ I’m fine, dwight. really. it was one audition — it’s not the end of the world. ❜ never mind the fact that jordan riley does NOT choke, has never forgotten so much as a breath between phrases of a song, is always the picture of professionalism, grace under pressure and talent spilling over in every project she touches. maybe that’s why all anyone can seem to talk about is how she yielded her time for mamma mia auditions to sprint off the stage she spilled so much blood out on months prior, to find sanctuary in the cramped walls of a bathroom stall and enough time to cry out the crushing weight wrapped up in her chest. all a rumor — all based on fact. ❛ the director’s letting me have a second chance. can we talk about something else, please? like how we’re paying thousands of dollars to eat dry-ass pasta because for some reason, they’re skimping on the sauce? ❜
INCOMING CALL FROM AN UNKNOWN NUMBER / @egotistikill: ❛ i don't often get the chance to talk to someone like you. ❜
such a charming sentiment spoken from the serpent’s maw. is it supposed to be flattering? doesn’t matter — she’s learned with him that intention is only ever meant one way, to strike some abject terror within, or plant a seedling of doubt that overgrows like a weed in the thick of summer, wrapping her up from the inside out in this twisted game until she chokes on it. every word spoken carries with it an implied promise that this won’t be the last conversation, not by a long shot. she can tell by the tone that he’s far too amused to cut things short.
❛ that’s so sweet. ❜ spoken with the absence of any sincerity, jordan riley crosses to her bedroom window, open wide, late summer breeze carrying through and blowing curtains back in gentle waves. she’s never caught a glimpse of him lurking outside, hiding in the bushes, moving amongst the shadows despite the glaring beams from the lampposts that illuminate her street in this cozy little suburb of roseville. still, in the pit of her stomach, she knows he’s out there — watching, taking note of every movement, every precaution taken. arm leans against sill, fingers tapping against the peeling paint as she stares out into bleak nothingness. ❛ do you say that to all the girls you stalk and harass, or am I special? ❜
random asks, from theo bennet / @instafilm: the lyrics are simply words — there is no meaning behind them. there shouldn't be any meaning. they are actors... it's common to say things you don't truly mean. so then why does he struggle to say his next line... why, when he looks into his co-star's eyes, does he want to fall into them? ❛ come what may, ❜ theo sings slowly, looking almost surprised as he says the words... surprised that there may be some truth to them that he didn't realize until now. ❛ i will love you until my dying day. ❜
stepping into satine’s six-inch heels was less of an acting challenge and more of an exercise on building a performance on personal trauma. you still believe in happy endings, and I know better. jordan riley is in a good place, mentally, emotionally, physically, financially — living in the big city with her best friend, landing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to star in a show that’s already got broadway buzz, standing opposite one of the bigger names on stage these days. but all the healing and progressing in the world doesn’t erase the past; she’s not the broken teenage girl trying to find her voice again after someone stole it on a whim. she’s not the empty-inside college student coming to terms with grief on a sickening scale and a nightmare that won’t leave her alone. she’s no longer a shell of her former self, hasn’t been for years. yet she remembers exactly how all of those pieces feel. and so, like satine, she knows better.
and like satine, she knows when to soften. theo takes her hands, and she curls her fingers against his own. deep brown eyes meet piercing blues and she leans into the disbelief that this is her reality now: where satine is opening herself up to love, jordan is shedding away the imposter syndrome. this is where she’s meant to be. this is the moment she had dreamed of since she was four years old, watching from the wings as local actors stepped back into a dance at a school gym in 1950s new york city, completely enamored with the spectacle in front of her; she’s finally home.
maybe it’s the softness of his touch that makes her so comfortable, or the fact that he’s memorized her coffee order and always brings it with him on those bright-and-early saturday rehearsals, or the fact that he manages to be both ridiculously handsome and sincerely charming and humble — maybe it’s something else entirely that jordan hasn’t been able to put her finger on yet, and maybe it’s all of the above. they’ve rehearsed this number so many times she’s lost count, which makes it easy for her to spot the split-second moment where he seems to have difficulty expressing the most memorable declaration of love since tony sang through the streets of lower manhattan about a girl named maria. all she can think of is god, he’s good — while trying not to dwell on how the soft intensity of his gaze makes her stomach flip, or that the touch of his palm to her cheek makes her feel flushed in a way stage lights never could.
how many times have they done this song? this blocking? and this is the first time she’s felt her breath hitch in her throat, in anticipation for a kiss she knows will come and go. forehead presses to forehead as she lets him guide her lips to his, momentarily lost to how right this feels. in those brief seconds there’s no director, no cast and crew observing from the wings, no stage lights boring down on them. for jordan, there’s only theo bennet and a fluttering feeling in her stomach that she knows all too well as they kiss.
pulling away is a challenge she hadn’t anticipated when the song began less than two minutes ago; she wants to remain in that embrace, hands gently grasping his arms, holding him, telling him this is okay, this is good, this is perfect. the script has other ideas and she best stick to it. ❛ suddenly the world seems such a perfect place — ❜ has she spoken truer words? if she has, she doesn’t remember. and frankly, it doesn’t matter — this newfound cluster of emotions will be unpacked later, but right now, she’s leaning in, arms wrapping around him, head finding comfort resting against his chest as she continues to sing.
storm clouds may gather, stars may collide but I love you until the end of time
CRAZY RICH ASIANS, co-starring @websup as peter parker: ❛ If you didn’t make us walk, we wouldn’t be soaked. ❜
❛ I’m NOT paying fifty fucking dollars for a cab ride spanning ten blocks because it’s the middle of rush hour! ❜ EXAGGERATE MUCH? in jordan’s defense, she’s not totally far off — though the prospect of walking the ten blocks back to their apartment had been significantly more attractive before the storm clouds rolled in and quite literally rained on their parade. well — quaint little walk home.
she grimaces as water sloshes in the soles of her shoes, skin crawling while she tries so hard to push that wet-sock feeling out of her mind when it’s the only thing she can focus on. keys rattle, lock turns, door is open and she sighs loudly as she steps through the threshold and immediately begins kicking them off.
❛ and neither are you! I’ve seen what you bring home for groceries, I know you don’t have that expendable cash! ❜ low blow? nah, not really — not when they’re both in that fun, instant-ramen-is-a-main-course stage of life. she doesn’t so much as turn her head to look at him as she waddles off toward the bathroom ( as if that’s going to stop the rainwater dripping off her and onto the floor ). ❛ I call first shower! ❜
sacred romantic moments, co - starring @townroyal as theo bennet: “ it’s dark outside, and it’s raining. my arms are much safer. ”
she’s only entertained the idea of saying goodbye and heading back to her apartment. softly remarking how late it’s getting and that she should probably start making her way back to her side of the city was her way of testing the waters; it’s been a whirlwind month and a half since things between them had shifted from two co-stars pining quietly for one another to a full-blown romance. keeping things quiet had been a mutual agreement, purely out of a desire to have something to themselves while the world gets to know more and more about them as individuals through the press surrounding moulin rouge making its way to broadway.
jordan is partial to this, at least, for now; there’s such a romantic charm to the intimacy of date nights like this one, music playing softly from a carefully-curated playlist as they cook dinner together, drink in one another’s company, and find themselves dancing in the middle of clean-up. the smile that winds onto her lips is purely incidental as he pulls her in closer, forehead touching forehead. ❛ you make a compelling argument. ❜ she almost forgot about the torrential downpour outside, soaking the streets and any unlucky enough to be caught out in the storm. hands slide over his shoulders until she’s got her arms wrapped around him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as their swaying slows. yes, staying here — staying with him — is the preferable offer. closeness is maintained when she pulls away, voice a soft hum of a sound. ❛ looks like you’re stuck with me. ❜