WEBVTT

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Hey, this is Mack, back with another episode of

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Write is Wrong, that I wrote with my good friend

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Bob. So let's get into it. Chapter 3, All Light

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is Bad Light. The goodbye scene in the coffee

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shop parking lot carried the weight of friendships

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that had weathered decades of shared experiences.

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Bob and Jake hugged Vanessa, the kind of embrace

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that acknowledged both affection and uncertainty.

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When are we going to see you again, V? Bob asked.

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I'll be back in a couple months, Vanessa replied.

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Reality TV gets no rest, huh? Bob observed. It's

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a beast we created and cannot kill, Vanessa said

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with resignation. A spray -tanned, fame -whoring

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Frankenstein, if you will, Jake added, attempting

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literary flair. Not your best work, dude, Vanessa

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critiqued. It wasn't that bad, Jake protested.

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I expect more from a professional copywriter.

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How long will we be on the East Coast this time?

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Bob asked. This should be the last season of

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the show, so only a couple months. I hope so

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anyway. Fucking nightmare, huh? Eric asked. Living

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in L is more like it, Vanessa confirmed. Then

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what? Bob pressed. Move back here, get back in

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my apartment, find a job, I guess. Who's in your

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apartment now? Jake asked. I rented it to my

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cousin while I'm out of town. Hey, I meant to

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ask, Jake said suddenly. Would you be my baby's

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godmother? Odd segue, Vanessa noted, but no,

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not a chance. Why not? I hate responsibility

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and I don't believe in God. What do you believe

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in, Jake asked. Bob. Would you be her Bob mother,

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Jake tried. Wow, you were really up your game

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today, Vanessa said, shaking her head. Eric stepped

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forward. Come on, V, I'll take you to the airport.

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As Eric and Vanessa got in Eric's car and left

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the parking lot, Jake leaned in closer to Bob.

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They know that we know that they're fucking,

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right? He whispered. They have to, Bob replied.

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One of the worst kept secrets in Hollywood. Kind

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of like... Jake leaned in conspiratorially. Like

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what? Another poorly held Hollywood secret. Bob

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looked around the parking lot and whispered back.

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Did you know Rock Hudson was gay? Rock Hudson?

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Jake looked incredulous. I know, crazy, right?

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It's 2025 and you give me Rock Hudson. Old Hollywood,

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dude. I keep it real. I think we both need to

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stop drinking, Jake said. Never, Bob replied

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firmly. Yeah, who am I kidding? Liberace too,

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Bob added. All right, that's enough. At LAX,

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Eric and Vanessa sat at a table in the departure

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area, drinking coffee and navigating the complicated

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terrain of their relationship. Thanks for the

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ride, dude, Vanessa said. No problem. I got some

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time before I have to get ready for the show

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tonight. Where are you playing? I can't remember.

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The whiskey, I think. Can't remember? That's

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such a rock cliché. Not a cliché if it's true,

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Eric defended. They both took sips of their coffees,

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the silence stretching between them. What time

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did you leave my place last night? Eric asked.

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More like this morning. Around seven o 'clock,

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I think. Are you ever going to spend the entire

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night with me? It was morning when I left. The

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night was over, so technically I spent the night.

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You know what I mean, Eric said, his frustration

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evident. Come on, do we have to do this now?

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Are you worried about the guys finding out? I'm

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pretty sure they've already figured it out. Then

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what is it? Eric asked. I just don't want it

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to become a thing, you know. The four of us have

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always been best friends and that's it. I don't

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want to mess that up. I know, me neither. And

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you know it's not easy for me, Vanessa added,

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her voice softer. She finished her coffee and

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stood up. Gotta go, man. Eric stood and gave

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her a hug. Good times last night. Call me when

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you land. When Eric leaned in for a kiss, Vanessa

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pulled away. What's wrong? The guys aren't here?

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Eric said, confused. I know. I'm sorry. I'm just

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not ready. Vanessa touched Eric's cheek gently

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and walked away, leaving him standing there with

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questions neither of them was ready to answer.

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At the TSA checkpoint, An overweight agent with

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a mustache demanded that Vanessa remove her sunglasses.

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Why, she asked. Please, ma 'am, just take your

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sunglasses off. You didn't answer my question.

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I don't have to. Just take them off. You're truly

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a hero, sir. Thank you for making our country

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safer. If you like strip searches, keep talking,

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the agent threatened. Is that supposed to scare

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me? Because, truth be told, I kind of like getting

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felt up by sad wannabe cops in ill -fitting uniforms.

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The agent moved closer, his authority challenged.

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Do not test me, lady. Vanessa finally complied,

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removing her sunglasses and squinting as she

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walked through the body scanner. All light is

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bad light, asshole. Okay, thanks for checking

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out this episode of Write is Wrong. Please be

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sure to check back soon for another episode.

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Take care.