#Sketchy Bros Named Jess

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 1, Episode 13 ("Concert Interruptus")

What happens in this episode: Paris, Rory, Madelyn and Louise are paired up on a school project. Rory has an adventure outside of the usual Stars Hollow/Grandma's House/Chilton universe, going to a concert in NYC with the Chilton Crew. but several of them escape. We learn about Rachel for the first time and meet another Boy Jess who is hella sketchy. Episode 13: Rory and Lorelai have a conversation where it's implied there are no crackers in the house. Episode 12: What did I spy behind the toaster?

Don't tell me they ate all the crackers in the house in the span of one episode, because I won't listen to crackpot theories. Just a heads up, these Saltine crackers WILL become a running joke over the course of the next several episodes because I'm weird. And just wait until the first "Tomatos" sighting.

Lorelai's outfits, man.

Name your favorite GIlmore Girls Side Characters. Go! #ToiletKittens #PenisOctopus #DickRocket #Tomatos

Wow, I've seen this show several times through and I never realized the fucking thing had a name. Warning: Bridge Rage is coming. Isn't there anything else they could be raising money for? Like group therapy for the whole town? Lorelai showed up in a rummage sale sweatshirt and Luke had a total shitfit. Now I'm intrigued.

Oh, right. Her. Luke, Sookie and Miss Patty are all talking about Rachel like she's dead.

Sookie Replies: You didn't know about Rachel because she traveled all the time, and you had an 11 year old and you were just moving in to this house. Uhh what? One of the most significant storylines of this show, one that is hammered into your brain over and over again, is that they had lived in their current house since Rory was a small child, after living in the shed first. Where were they supposed to be living for the first 11 years of Rory's life? It's merely my legal obligation to point out any errors in continuity I find and that one is a big, gaping, massive hole. #Hole. Sookie goes on to say that Luke never talks about Rachel. Alright pal, it's been 6 years since you broke up. The Danes/Mariano men have got to learn the art of moving on and not stewing in heartbreak juices for years. Memorable Signs:

I do not understand the obsession with that fucking bridge. If only I could take a sledgehammer and finish it off so I never have to hear about it or watch them throw another corny fundraiser for it. Dear Stars Hollow: If your town didn't blow your entire budget on having a festival every week, you could repair that bridge. Hell, you could have a brand new one constructed plus several more. The fundraisers to fund the bridge repair cost more money to put together than it would take to actually just repair the fucking thing. BRIDGE RAGE! "Rory your boyfriend's no slouch either. 6'2 and feisty." WE GET IT DEAN IS TALL. Is it just me, but does it feels weird to anyone else when Rory talks about going to the mall or some other place outside of Stars Hollow. It feels like the people of SH live in a pod cut off from the real world. You're going to New York City? Is that safe for pod people? Is the atmosphere breathable? Do you think the Walmart Jess works at is in Stars Hollow? (of course it isn't, if it was it would have put Doose's out of business in a week).

"It's a Quarter on A String, it's a Love Thing... La La La..." How do you like my new song?

These bozos that M&L have their eye on look at least 25. That's not sketchy at all. That blond guy on the right is either really stoned or REALLY loves the Bangles.

Blond Guy With Sweater Paws and Girl in Oversized Fuzzy Green coat are fun. Did Louise just say the Child Predators were named "Jess and Shawn"? Wait, wait, what. Rewind.

Hahahahahahaha. I'm speechless!!! I really want to know how it came to be that Amy Sherman Palladino (or whoever) came up with this unusual name for a boy and liked it so much they used it twice (and not the much more common Jesse). This is why I love this show. No matter how many times you've seen it before, you'll always notice details you missed the last time...

That is a VERY good question, Rory. I'm trying valiantly to make it make sense.

Highly debatable.

We're all ears...

HIGHLY DEBATABLE. "His parents are not so great. He kissed me once on a dare. You don't know him like I do. I know he's only flirting with me to get to you but at least he's flirting with me." Ughhh. I can't stand this pathetic version of Paris.

Rory: Like meeeeee?

I don't know if this is Jess (I'm still dying over this) or Sean but I take back what I said earlier about him looking 25. He actually looks damn near 30.

These two! I love em!

I want a frog lamp. But burn that creepy clown.

He's trying, I guess. Bless him. Luke buys a set of sushi magnets for a nickel, so he just put five cents towards Taylor and his stupid fund for that stupid bridge. Screw him. Just kidding! The Good: This is one of my favorite Non-Jess eps. I thought Lorelai's handling of the incident where Rory's classmates go missing was realistic and well done. I love M&L. The sketchy bro being named Jess. Paris and Rory 4ever. Kittens in a Toilet painting. Lorelai's wardrobe. Blond guy with sweater paws. Something about Luke buying sushi magnets for a nickel was cute. Dean was only discussed and not seen. The Crappy: Paris' low self esteem and obsession with Tristan is tiresome. Luke hasn't gotten over a breakup that happened 6 years ago. The new: The first mention of Rachel. The first time the god damn fucking bridge gets a name. I'm tired of hearing about: Dean's height. The Bridge. The confusing: Major continuity error claiming Rory and Lorelai had only lived in their current home for 5 years. Cracker confusion.

[everyone-has-their-story]

Finished Roswell NM through 1x09 and my thoughts on characters so far:

Max needs a fucking vacation because bro is stressed tf out 24/7

Liz needs a Xanax and a nice long therapy sesh

Isobel needs to continue catching some zzzz’s in her egg

Kyle needs to work out his developing daddy issues

Michael needs a hug, a self-help book for the self hatred and to stop being a hoe

Alex needs a little love and support..he’s like a bird that flew into a glass window and needs to be nursed back to health (preferably by some whose name begins with M and ends with ichael)

Jesse Manes can fuck ALLLLLL the way of

Noah seems a little sketchy…he’s got that “I can’t even be trusted to take care of your plants while you’re away” kind of vibe about him

Maria needs a week long retreat at a spa to figure some shit out

The blonde po-po (forgot her name) needs to mind her own beeswax because that girl is all up in everyone's shit

[i-can-see-you-dancing]

i. you could’ve loved me

When Michael shows up at the UFO Emporium, fingers tightening around his backpack strap, so hard they’re almost turning white, Alex is so sure he’s about to get the no-homo-bro talk, and he knows what will happen next, even though it’s only happened once before. They’ll drift apart, it’ll be friendly conversations dwindling to hellos in the hallway, before it disappears entirely, and they’ll be perfect strangers, a face that’s attached to a memory you can’t reach anymore.

When he meets him in the back room, the entire thing is plastered with glow-in-the-dark stars, something you’d find in a little kid’s bedroom. He’s never kissed a boy before, he hasn’t kissed anyone he likes. He just wants to know what it’s like to feel safe for a while.

Michael’s face is turning white. He’s twisting his hands together and instead of staring at the floor, he’s looking at him. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

For a second, he thinks he might’ve told his dad.

But then he leans forward, grabs Alex’s face in both hands, and kisses him - he realizes he’s been holding his breath.

Ten years later, Michael’s pulling off Alex’s t-shirt, Alex is looking at the newspaper clippings tacked up on the walls, all in a ten year range. Obituaries, all of them. For a second, he thinks that Michael might have a true crime obsession (something Roswell doesn’t lack, unsurprisingly), but all of the clippings are labeled Military, and it’s only section M of the whole alphabetized article. M for Manes.

Sometimes, love is too big a word to say. But this time, it feels too small. Not strong enough. Love isn’t fucking and fighting and falling apart all over again. All he does is grin up at Michael before he pushes him down on the bed in the corner and they’re both breathless, tangled up in one another. “I like the decorations.”

Michael stares at the clippings that cover his windows like he’s seeing them for the first time. A corner of his mouth curls upwards. “I’m glad.”

“Been thinking about you, you know,” he says. It sounds like the beginning of a sentence, and for a second, it looks like he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t. He just reaches for the hem of his own t-shirt and pulls it up over his head.

ii. you can’t love me

He catches Maria and Michael in The Wild Pony when he comes to visit her. They’re in Mimi’s apartment, on the couch, the only place he’s ever been in that feels like home, the only two people who have felt like home and him in the doorway, feeling like he’s watching the whole thing from above.

It’s a cute little apartment. Artsy and DIY-decorated, like something in a Pier One Imports catalogue. There’s half of a road trip map hanging above the couch, ripped down the middle, red tacks outlining a route out of Roswell. He knows those tacks because he and Maria placed them there, he knows the map because the other half is in the dashboard of his car. He remembers promising he wouldn’t leave without her. He remembers believing she wouldn’t leave him. But this feels like being left.

Maria doesn’t notice him, neither does Michael. Mimi does. She walks over to him, opens the door, and grins, oblivious. “Alex. It’s nice to see you. Your aura’s looking … compromised.”

Michael looks up. Maria pushes him onto the floor and he goes toppling off the couch with a thud. But it’s too late. She looks like a deer in headlights, her face five seconds from crumpling, jaw set, mouth open in preparation to make an excuse.

Is this what forgetting feels like?

He stares at the two of them from the doorway, eyes wide. Maria stares back.

Been thinking about you, you know.

He wishes he was better at telling if someone was lying. He wishes he hadn’t believed words said into skin and bone, words said without weighing the consequences first. He wished he didn’t hope quite so much.

iii. you’ll never love me

He gift-wraps the last piece of the spaceship. It’s been sitting at the back of his closet for almost two weeks. Out of sight, out of mind. The whole thing felt slightly ironic - because he hadn’t seen Michael in three days but he couldn’t stop thinking about him. The only wrapping paper he has is covered in Santa’s and cartoon reindeer - he buries it at the bottom of his duffel, along with his shred of Maria’s map and gets in the car.

He drives past The Wild Pony, where Maria’s standing in the parking lot, flipping off someone driving off. She recognizes his car, but she doesn’t stop him. He passes her, passes almost a mile of empty land before reaching Michael’s Airstream.

Outside, the wind is beginning to pick up, and sand is flying everywhere. The trailer looks small. He can see through the windows again - the obituaries are gone. Michael’s pacing. When he sees him, he disappears, and the door opens.

“Hey.”

They’re standing five feet apart, and Michael looks like he’s debating to go closer or back away. Alex makes his decision for him.

“I’m not here to talk.” He says quietly. He throws the duffel at Michael. “It’s the last piece. Kyle’s dad left it to me.

Michael catches it, but doesn’t make a move to open it. His face gives way to understanding. “Why are you giving this to me?”

Alex weighs his words. And he watches. Takes it all in. Remembers. This is the last time he’ll see Michael like this, unruly and wild and not quite his but close enough to pretend. This is the last goodbye he’ll say to him.

“I’m leaving town.” he says. “I just … I don’t think I could live with myself if I had something you wanted so badly. So find your home, okay? Be happy.”

Michael wanders closer, confusion flitting across his face. He mouths a word Alex doesn’t hear but it looks a lot like stay. Alex shakes his head. Wipes his face. Inhale, exhale. And he turns around, walks back and sits down into the Jeep. And that might just be the hardest thing he’s ever done - leaving the ghost of someone who didn’t love him anymore.

-

It’s been a day and he wants to throw Maria’s guitar through the window, he wants to scar his hand himself, he wants to relive that moment over and over, he wants Alex back, all of him, any of him, the way he was ten years ago, the way he was five minutes ago, sobbing as Jesse Manes brought the hammer down, the silence that followed when Jesse stumbled out the doorway drunkenly, a satisfied smile on his face.

I would’ve changed for you. I would’ve turned myself inside out for you.

“What - Michael, sit down.” Maria says from behind the bar, polishing wineglasses. “Calm down.”

He stops pacing, in the middle of the floor, and stares at her like she’s a stranger, even though she’s the only constant company he’s had for the last decade that he didn’t end up having sex with. But they crossed that bridge. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you get - don’t you get what we did? He’s your best friend, Maria. And he’s gone. Because of us, because we screwed up.”

She looks at him, not quite comprehending. Like she’s looking right through him.

“I loved him.” His voice cracks a little, and he wipes his face on his sleeve. I could’ve loved him. “You loved him. He loved you.”

“And what about you?” she leans her elbows on the counter. “Did he love you?”

He hesitates. And like that, she has her answer.

“Yeah.” she smiles a little bitterly. “Yeah, you did.” she goes back to polishing her glasses, indifferent, before pouring herself straight vodka and taking a sip without wincing. “Why did you come here, Michael?”

He shakes his head. She’s not crying. But he might be. “I don’t know, DeLuca.”

-

He sits underneath the Welcome To Roswell sign for almost twenty minutes, turning the map over and over in his hands. He doesn’t know where he’ll go. He doesn’t know if he can say another goodbye. He doesn’t know if he should.

They were going to drive to California with Mimi. Maria had a whole list of doctors, psychic healers, and other sketchy addresses on the back of the map. A name catches his eye.

Ayita Manes. Manes. He’d almost forgotten that him and Maria had tracked her down. But that had been almost thirteen years ago. Barely a day from here. A couple hours with no stops.

And like that, he has a destination.

He’s pulling out. All of it happens too fast. A car skids sideways, tipping his over and taking it with him. For a second, they’re airborne. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel. Michael.

Inhale. Exhale. He waits for the next breath.

It never comes.