Joe was your darling. Your personal screenplay writer and your boytoy...You paid him to edit, rewrite and brainstorm for your scripts you wrote. And when you didn't have a project to keep him occupied...you paid him just to keep you company.

He was dirt poor. The archetypal, struggling writer, starving artist character. You had a feeling he was sometimes a bit uncomfortable with your age gap and your eccentricities but he had no money. He nearly lost his car he was behind so many payments a few months ago and he lived in a one room roach infested apartment...Your gold sports car and huge mansion were a nice change for him...

So he took up to living in your guest room. And right now you were waiting for Paramount to approve the first draft of your script so he was just keeping you company...He kept it professional and platonic best he could...he was 20 years your junior and sometimes found your dramatic behavior annoying...but you were sensing a new softness with him...Maybe you were growing on him...

He swam in the pool and made conversation while you tanned, he went bowling with you in your bowling alley in your huge cellar, he took his meals with you...and now movie night...

You sat together in the living room the lights dim, watching one of your old films...But Joe was mostly watching you...watching the way you mouthed your old lines...Seeing the sadness and nostalgia in your eyes when your younger self paraded around the screen...It was no secret you missed your glory days...

And his softness seems to peak seeing you sad...he gently reaches out and dares to touch your hand in the dim light of your living room.