Chapter Text
In the course of the last days of shooting, it had felt like I had spent more time with Timmy in my arms than anything else. Both on and off camera. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had wished Luca had been there with his one lens thing when we had said goodbye to each other — because I had never felt more Oliver than at that moment.
“How much time do you need ?” Timmy’s face was pressed against my chest, his voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt. I didn’t know how I was supposed to let him go. That kind of strength had never been in me. It had turned out, it had always been. It was only buried and guarded, waiting for him.
I had thought about my daughter first. Then about my - at the time - unborn child. I had thought about my wife I’ve loved, still love, and our friends and family and our business and all the aspects of my life so tangled-up in hers I didn’t know what was mine anymore. What was me. Then I thought about my parents. I shouldn’t have cared. I knew I shouldn’t. I did. Even if I was tired of negotiating for their support. I had almost lost them once. Did it make me a bad person if I didn’t want to lose them forever ? Because I would have. I will. There was no way they could have accepted this. Me, in these terms. That was the one deal they wouldn’t have signed. Not back then, not now, not ever.
“Twenty years ?” I had said then, more like a plea than an answer. I knew I was asking for the impossible. I also knew that if only two people could do it, these two people would have to be us.
“Twenty… fuck.” The grip had tightened on both sides. “That’s like… my whole life.”
“You need them too.” Even if I didn’t see his face, I had known Timmy was frowning, open mouth ready to protest. “Believe me… You will.”
I hadn’t been sure of much at that point but I had been sure of that at least. It had been one of the very few things I had felt certain about after six weeks of watching this kid, a raw bundle of talent and charm doing his thing. There was a path out there, waiting for Timothée Chalamet. A journey so bright, I wouldn’t have dared standing in the way. It… I would have been too much, too soon, too heavy, and the kid deserved to walk freely. I had been right. He had wanted and needed to do so at some point.
“Timmy ?”
He had lifted his chin, his eyes wide open, trusting and unguarded as he had looked at me. Something had broken in both of our hearts. But the sound made by the fall of the remaining pieces had been incredibly soft, whispered in unison and echoing for each other in both of our bodies.
“Don’t waste these twenty years waiting, okay ? Live them a little for me.”