for: @vrzfr
location: screening of valerie and her week of wonders @ some niche movie store (vir stuff you know)
“Is that a copy of War and Peace in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Vir, flying solo; a gift, from the heavens. He hasn’t seen the pocket sized prince Vir’s married to in a minute - Phoenix prays, with earnest faith, that the poor guy hasn’t finally slipped into a grate somewhere. Surrounded by walls lined with vintage movie posters and cinephiles frothing at the chance to compare letterboxd collections, he considers himself a saint for accepting Vir’s half-hearted invitation, to watch a movie with him. The bevy of dm’s he’s sent denoting interest in Eastern European New Wave cinema has paid off; and Vir’s only blocked him on twitter twice. “I’ve never seen this one before - but just know, I’m here if you need to hold hands; at heart, I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
A handful of interactions led Phoenix to enjoy an overextended acquaintance, with the perpetually Byronic yet endearingly anxious, Vir - he surveys him with both mirth and glee, taking generous sips from the drink he’d been handed upon entering (some czech drink he’s long forgotten the name of). “I heard from a friend of a friend, that you had an eventful night at the rum launch - you weren’t locked away in some hotel room with another intern, right? I’d be crushed, wounded - bleeding out on this delightfully dingy carpet. But you’ve been avoiding me anyway, haven’t you? I’m pretty sure you ran away at the Trader Joes in Manhattan.”