Hey, this is Mack, back with another episode of
Write is Wrong, that I wrote with my good friend
Bob. So let's get into it. Chapter 3, All Light
is Bad Light. The goodbye scene in the coffee
shop parking lot carried the weight of friendships
that had weathered decades of shared experiences.
Bob and Jake hugged Vanessa, the kind of embrace
that acknowledged both affection and uncertainty.
When are we going to see you again, V? Bob asked.
I'll be back in a couple months, Vanessa replied.
Reality TV gets no rest, huh? Bob observed. It's
a beast we created and cannot kill, Vanessa said
with resignation. A spray -tanned, fame -whoring
Frankenstein, if you will, Jake added, attempting
literary flair. Not your best work, dude, Vanessa
critiqued. It wasn't that bad, Jake protested.
I expect more from a professional copywriter.
How long will we be on the East Coast this time?
Bob asked. This should be the last season of
the show, so only a couple months. I hope so
anyway. Fucking nightmare, huh? Eric asked. Living
in L is more like it, Vanessa confirmed. Then
what? Bob pressed. Move back here, get back in
my apartment, find a job, I guess. Who's in your
apartment now? Jake asked. I rented it to my
cousin while I'm out of town. Hey, I meant to
ask, Jake said suddenly. Would you be my baby's
godmother? Odd segue, Vanessa noted, but no,
not a chance. Why not? I hate responsibility
and I don't believe in God. What do you believe
in, Jake asked. Bob. Would you be her Bob mother,
Jake tried. Wow, you were really up your game
today, Vanessa said, shaking her head. Eric stepped
forward. Come on, V, I'll take you to the airport.
As Eric and Vanessa got in Eric's car and left
the parking lot, Jake leaned in closer to Bob.
They know that we know that they're fucking,
right? He whispered. They have to, Bob replied.
One of the worst kept secrets in Hollywood. Kind
of like... Jake leaned in conspiratorially. Like
what? Another poorly held Hollywood secret. Bob
looked around the parking lot and whispered back.
Did you know Rock Hudson was gay? Rock Hudson?
Jake looked incredulous. I know, crazy, right?
It's 2025 and you give me Rock Hudson. Old Hollywood,
dude. I keep it real. I think we both need to
stop drinking, Jake said. Never, Bob replied
firmly. Yeah, who am I kidding? Liberace too,
Bob added. All right, that's enough. At LAX,
Eric and Vanessa sat at a table in the departure
area, drinking coffee and navigating the complicated
terrain of their relationship. Thanks for the
ride, dude, Vanessa said. No problem. I got some
time before I have to get ready for the show
tonight. Where are you playing? I can't remember.
The whiskey, I think. Can't remember? That's
such a rock cliché. Not a cliché if it's true,
Eric defended. They both took sips of their coffees,
the silence stretching between them. What time
did you leave my place last night? Eric asked.
More like this morning. Around seven o 'clock,
I think. Are you ever going to spend the entire
night with me? It was morning when I left. The
night was over, so technically I spent the night.
You know what I mean, Eric said, his frustration
evident. Come on, do we have to do this now?
Are you worried about the guys finding out? I'm
pretty sure they've already figured it out. Then
what is it? Eric asked. I just don't want it
to become a thing, you know. The four of us have
always been best friends and that's it. I don't
want to mess that up. I know, me neither. And
you know it's not easy for me, Vanessa added,
her voice softer. She finished her coffee and
stood up. Gotta go, man. Eric stood and gave
her a hug. Good times last night. Call me when
you land. When Eric leaned in for a kiss, Vanessa
pulled away. What's wrong? The guys aren't here?
Eric said, confused. I know. I'm sorry. I'm just
not ready. Vanessa touched Eric's cheek gently
and walked away, leaving him standing there with
questions neither of them was ready to answer.
At the TSA checkpoint, An overweight agent with
a mustache demanded that Vanessa remove her sunglasses.
Why, she asked. Please, ma 'am, just take your
sunglasses off. You didn't answer my question.
I don't have to. Just take them off. You're truly
a hero, sir. Thank you for making our country
safer. If you like strip searches, keep talking,
the agent threatened. Is that supposed to scare
me? Because, truth be told, I kind of like getting
felt up by sad wannabe cops in ill -fitting uniforms.
The agent moved closer, his authority challenged.
Do not test me, lady. Vanessa finally complied,
removing her sunglasses and squinting as she
walked through the body scanner. All light is
bad light, asshole. Okay, thanks for checking
out this episode of Write is Wrong. Please be
sure to check back soon for another episode.
Take care.