Capítulo 117: Ch-110

September 2004, Pittsburgh, PA, USA

I sat in the cafeteria, reading a book, while a plate full of uneaten food lay before me. Jonathan Groff walked past me with a food tray in his hands and through the cafeteria where a bunch of girls called him "nothing." But he ignored them.

As the camera was no longer on me, I was pointedly watching the scene unfold.

As Jonathan passed the table where Michael B. Jordan was sitting with a bruised face beside a few of his jock-type friends, one of said friends put his foot out and tripped Jonathan, making him fall painfully and spill all his food on the floor.

"Oops, sorry, nothing," the bully grinned at the prone form of Jonathan, making others at his table laugh.

Jonathan got up and walked toward Michael slowly, with anger in his eyes. "You gonna do anything?" he asked with forced calm.

"What're you talking about?" Michael asked in confusion.

"I'm talking about your pet ape just tripped me. Gonna say something?"

"Why would I?" Michael said nonchalantly.

"You know why," Jonathan didn't hide the cold fury in his voice.

"This is pathetic, man," Michael shrugged. "Your fixation on me."

"Do you want your friends to know how you got those bruises? Really?"

Michael got up in front of Jonathan, less than a foot away, and spoke in a heated whisper, "I don't know what kinda sick shit you're trying to pull, but you better walk away right now. Nothing."

Jonathan took a deep breath as if slapped across the face. But he swallowed it pretty quickly before saying, "Fine. Say hello to your dad for me." With that, Jonathan turned around and walked off.

Michael grinned and said to his back, "Whatever, faggot."

Jonathan stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around, "What did you call me?"

"I called you a fag—" That's as far as Michael got before Jonathan punched him across the face.

Michael held his nose painfully before throwing himself at Jonathan. The two started fighting on the floor like crazy, punching and slapping each other fiercely. The fight turned nasty when Michael's friends came to his rescue and started hitting Jonathan.

Emma rushed across the room from where she had been sitting to save her brother, only to have one of the bigger guys throw her back into the crowd of students.

"Stop!" Emma cried. "Leave him alone! Stop!"

And then I came to the rescue. I threw one punch toward the camera, and the next instant, all four bullies were on the ground. Two of the bullies were holding their noses in pain, while everyone else was looking at me in shocked silence, not believing that I was capable of violence. I looked down at my rapidly bruising hand before turning towards Jonathan, helping him up to his feet, and then turned back to the bullies.

"Touch my friends again, and I'll blind you," I said calmly. But because of the silence in the room, everyone heard me.

"Cut!" Chbosky called out excitedly. "That's what I wanted all this while! Great job, Troy, Jonathan, Michael, everyone. That was perfection."

I nodded toward him in gratitude. "When's the next scene?"

"We are done with all the school scenes now," Chbosky said proudly. "Mostly it's the small shots to fill out gaps between the scenes, for which we won't need you. There are only two important ones left for you—Charlie's breakdown and Sam and Charlie's first kiss. The rest is all done. That too ahead of time."

Storyboarding the entire movie had gone a long way in reducing the shooting time. Any other inexperienced filmmaker might have tried out the same scene with different camera angles, but we saved all that time by making detailed storyboards in pre-production.

Now, we would be done with the film in less than a week. There was just one problem left—Emma.

I turned toward where she had been standing just a minute ago. Not finding her there, I gave a quick excuse to Chbosky and ran toward her trailer.

"Emma!" I called out as I ran in her direction. I knew she heard me because she paused for a moment, but she didn't turn around. Instead, she kept walking.

"Emma!" I called again, and this time, I successfully caught up to her.

"Will you fucking talk to me, dammit!?" I yelled, standing behind her right before she could enter her trailer. "What have I done to deserve this treatment, huh?"

She turned back to me with a furious look in her eyes. However, her expression didn't lessen her beauty in any way.

"Don't create a scene where anyone can see. Please, Troy," she hissed, looking around as a few passing crew members gave us curious looks.

"You've left me no choice," I retorted heatedly. "You won't take my calls, or reply to my texts. You act on set like we haven't known each other for the last five years, and the worst part is those icy looks, like I killed your dog. I thought, before being my girlfriend, you were my best friend. I didn't confront you until now because I thought you needed space, and I didn't want to put you in a difficult position. Now we're less than a week away from finishing the film. The least you can do is give me an explanation. I'm not leaving until you do."

A flash of guilt crossed her face as I finished my rant.

"What's going on here?" Emma's mum, Jackie, asked as she came toward us hurriedly. "Troy, can you please leave her alone—"

"It's okay, Mum," Emma interrupted. "I guess Troy and I need to talk."

"Are you sure, love?" Jackie asked worriedly.

"Yeah. Pretty sure," Emma nodded, then turned to me and motioned for me to follow her.

Silently, I followed her inside her trailer. It had been so long since the two of us had been alone in either of our trailers. Her space was neat and clean, with everything in its proper place. Quite contrary to mine. I didn't like anyone cleaning up my mess in what I considered my safe space, whether it was my bedroom or my trailer.

Suddenly, my eyes landed on a small white teddy bear, and a smile came to my lips unconsciously. It was a gift I had given Emma on Valentine's Day. I didn't know she had brought it with her to Pittsburgh. I picked it up and saw our names engraved on the back. It was a custom job that I had booked especially for her.

"So?" Emma startled me. "You wanted to talk?"

I put the teddy down and said, "You know what I want to talk about."

Emma sighed before taking a seat on the couch and motioned for me to sit across from her. I did, after a few moments of hesitation. She stayed silent for a while, absentmindedly playing with the bracelet on her wrist. Another gift from me. I didn't interrupt, giving her all the time she needed.

"I can't do this, Troy," she finally said after what felt like forever.

"Can't do what?" I asked, even though I had a sinking feeling about where this conversation was heading. Some part of me refused to accept it.

"This," she motioned between us, "us. I thought I wouldn't mind when our relationship got out. You seem not to care about all the baggage that comes with fame, but I do. I can't bear the scrutiny from the media and everyone else in the world that comes with dating you. I love you, I really do. But this is too much for me."

Tears began rolling down her cheeks as she wiped them away.

"Please, Troy," she said between sobs.

"Hey," I whispered, moving forward to wrap her in a tight hug. "Why didn't you tell me sooner how much this was affecting you? I could have told the media we weren't dating, buried the story, and even gotten a fake girlfriend to cover it up. We can still do that. We can make everything go back to how it was a few months ago."

Emma shook her head in the crook of my neck. "No, it won't work. Once I finish high school, I'm going to university. Ivy League. What will you do then?"

"I can come with you," I offered, gently smoothing her hair.

"No," she pulled back from me. "You love your job too much. When you're not working on a film, you're making music or watching movies for research. And if you went to film or music school, what could they possibly teach you that you don't already know from your practical experience? Don't waste four years of your life for me."

"You're worth it," I said, taking both her hands in mine. "You're worth everything. I'll fight the whole world for you."

Emma shook her head. "I'm not asking you to. Nor do I want that. Remember when we started this relationship? You said we'd still be friends even if it ended. I want this to end now. But I don't want to lose my best friend, Troy."

I sat there, frozen, unsure of how to process what she was saying. It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped on me.

"No," I blurted out. "Please don't say that. I'll give you all the space you need—a week, a month, however long. Just don't end this."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears again. "I made this decision a month ago. I just didn't want our personal drama to disrupt the shoot. I planned to wait until it was over, but you forced me to do it today."

'And you conveniently forgot that we have to start shooting the next [Harry Potter] in a few months,' I wanted to say but held my tongue.

"Is this because of Lea Michele?" I asked bitterly.

"No," Emma shook her head. "I can't blame you for her being a bitch. That was just me trying to find a reason to pin this on you. You're not to blame at all. You're perfect. This is all because of my insecurities. Maybe I'll get over it in a few years and we can try again, but right now, we need to go our separate ways."

Suddenly, I stood up. I couldn't be near her anymore. I needed to get out of the trailer.

I didn't say another word before walking out.

I hadn't expected this to happen today, or anytime in the near future. Emma was perfect for me. She said she wanted to remain friends, but realistically, that wasn't possible. At least not right now.

(Break)

"You've never had a girlfriend?" Emma asked from where she was sitting on the bed, making the pain in my heart worse. But I had a job to do, so I pushed those feelings down and shook my head in response.

"Not even a second-grade valentine?" she continued.

"No." I smiled a little, bashfully.

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"No," I said, moving toward her. "What about you?" I sat down on the bed in front of her.

"Have I ever kissed a girl?" Emma teased.

"No, no, your first kiss."

She paused for a moment before answering, "I was eleven. His name was Robert. He used to come over to the house all the time."

"Was he your first boyfriend?" I asked, curious, with a slight smile.

"He was my…" She clicked her tongue, debating whether to continue. "He was my dad's boss."

My smile faded as the realization hit me.

"You know, Charlie, I used to sleep with guys who treated me like shit. And get wasted all the time. But now I feel like I have a chance. I can get into a real college."

I couldn't stop myself and took her hand. "You can do it. It's true."

Her eyes grew misty. "You really think so?" she asked hopefully.

"My aunt had the same thing happen to her, and she turned her life around."

"She must have been great," Emma said, wiping her tears.

"She was my favorite person in the world," I replied, "until now."

She looked away, but I didn't. It felt like this might be the last time I'd see her in a long while, and I needed to memorize everything—her face, her eyes, her smile, her tears—everything.

"Charlie," she turned back to me. "I know you know that I like Craig, but I want you to forget about that, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded.

"I just wanna make sure that the first person who kisses you, loves you, okay?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but only air came out.

Emma smiled sweetly at my reaction, then scooted closer to me. I didn't pull away as our eyes met. She glanced down at my lips, moving slowly, giving me the option to back out if I wanted to—but I didn't.

When our lips met, I felt a stab of pain in my chest. I had a feeling this might be our last kiss for a long time. I deepened the kiss, taking full advantage of that moment, knowing it could be cut short later.

Emma must have known too because she let it last longer than planned before pulling away.

"I love you, Troy," she said softly.

"I love you too," I replied without thinking, as she hugged me tightly. I closed my eyes and smiled, content.

For a few brief moments, I forgot everything. I forgot that we weren't together anymore, that we had broken up, or that we were surrounded by a whole crew shooting this scene. It felt real.

Until it wasn't.

"Cut!" Chbosky called out. "Emma, you said Troy instead of Charlie in the last line. Everything else was great. Just say, 'I love you, Charlie,' and we'll be done."

I hate that man. He ruined a perfectly good moment, which could even be our last one together.

"Action!"

"I love you, Charlie," Emma repeated as instructed.

"I love you too," I said in character and hugged her again, but I wasn't acting at all.

"Cut," Chbosky called out one final time. "And we're done, guys. The shooting of [The Perks of Being a Wallflower] is over."

As the crew cheered around us, I didn't feel any happiness at all. I couldn't look away from Emma, who looked equally troubled by the news that this was over.

_____________________________

AN: Please don't kill me. I have said it from the start that Troy would date multiple girls before settling down with the one. I needed him to be heartbroken for the next part of the story, which would start with a small time skip. The next chapter won't be sad and will be heavy on moving the plot forward. I'm not saying that Emma is out of the picture completely, but for now she is. Maybe years later they may reconcile, but not in near future.