A Made Bed

Hi, my name is Jeremy.

JACKSON: This bed is clearly one that has not experienced sex in quite awhile.

My brother is helping me make my bed.

Not exactly the most exciting activity to do on a Friday night, but outside it's pouring rain and it was going to continue all night.

JACKSON: Don't pull at the corners so much. You're overcompensating.

For some reason, I'm awful at making beds. They always turn out looking like I just hopped out of them. Now that Jackson and I are living together, I figured I might as well take him up on one of his perks--namely bed-making.

JACKSON: I guess I know which gene I got.
ME: Being able to make a bed is not a gene.
JACKSON: Yes, it is. It's right next to the one that shows you what shirts look good on you and how to organize a sock drawer.
ME: Oh, so it's near the Flaming Homo gene?
JACKSON: Right down the road.

This was the first time Jackson and I had actually gotten to have what--for us--counts as a civil conversation since he'd been back in town.

ME: So what little strings are you setting up to pull?
JACKSON: I have no idea what you're talking about.

He threw a button-down at me.

JACKSON: Put that on. You need to see what it's like to wear clothes that fit.
ME: You know--
JACKSON: Just humor me.

I put it on over my t-shirt.

JACKSON: Grab a pair of my jeans in the closet, and throw on those sneakers.

I was about to claim that they might not fit when I realized I was talking to my twin. It's not that I don't want to look nice. It's more than I always feel like I have bigger things to spend time on--like Kathy Lee on The Today Show.

JACKSON: And FYI, I wouldn't have to manipulate anyone if your friends weren't all tangled up in each other. Feynman wouldn't be able to discipher all of you. Who slept with who, enemies, friends--it's like One Tree Hill without the camp value.
ME: We all happen to be very close. It's just that sometimes when you're that close to people, you bump into them a little.
JACKSON: It's the parts that are bumping that get my attention.

I came out of the closet--puns aside--and looked at myself in the mirror. Jackson came over, took some gel out of a jar, and began pulling at my hair.

ME: Ouch!
JACKSON: You're going to thank me in a second.
ME: Why do my hair? I'm not going anywhere.
JACKSON: Yes, you are.
ME: Excuse me? Have you looked outside? We're in the midst of a thunderstorm.
JACKSON: And Prisms is having a Hurricane Party.
ME: I'm not going to Prisms with the Roofie Ranger on the loose.
JACKSON: You'll be fine. You don't drink.
ME: Neither does Billy.
JACKSON: So avoid root beer!

He yanked at my hair one last time, and then stood back.

JACKSON: Look how nice you look.
ME: I...Wow, I...I look like you.
JACKSON: Well, let's not get carried away.

He went back to making the bed, and I just kept looking at myself in the mirror. Call me crazy considering I have a living example of what I could look like if I tried, but it was just surprising to look so...decent.

ME: This almost makes up for you sleeping with my best friend.
JACKSON: You're just mad because you don't know what you want and you want everyone to wait on you until you figure it out.
ME: I know what I want!
JACKSON: So you want Davis?
ME: I want my best friend and my brother to interact only if they both have clothes on.
JACKSON: For a thought that upsets you so much, you think about it an awful lot.

God, I hate when he's right.

JACKSON: You know, we're similar in at least one way.
ME: We both hate Scarlet Johansen?
JACKSON: That--and we both see life as a movie.
ME: You and Davis sleeping together is a horror movie.
JACKSON: Fair enough. But if you were watching a horror movie, and you could yell out--Hey! Get away from there! Wouldn't you do that?
ME: But you can't. It's a movie.
JACKSON: See, that's where you and I differ. I want to be in the movie, you just want to watch.

Before he could say anymore, I heard a loud crash, and then everything got cold.

A pole had come crashing through the bedroom window, and it landed right on the bed separating me and Jackson.

ME: Holy--
JACKSON: Jeremy! Don't move!

There were electrical wires on top of the pole and they were jumping.

ME: Oh my God.
JACKSON: You need to slowly--
ME: Oh my God.
JACKSON: SHUT UP! Listen to me! Back away slowly, go out the bedroom door, and go get help.
ME: Who should I get?
JACKSON: KERMIT THE FUCKING FROG! I don't care! Just get help!

I looked over at my brother, who is without a doubt the biggest flaw in my otherwise okay life, and I could see a giant gaping hole where my bedroom wall used to be, electrical wires all over my bed, and the rain was pouring into our little third floor apartment building.

There were a lot of ways I could have lost my brother, and it terrified me.

JACKSON: JEREMY! GO!

I forgot to back out slowly and just ran full force out the door, then out of the apartment, into the hallway. I saw the elevator door open and ran right into it.

VOICE: Whoa, someone's in a hurry to go party.

I looked to my left and saw Ben near the control panel.

BEN: Thanks for inviting me out, Jackson. I needed to have some fun.
ME: No, Ben, it's--it's--

But before I could say anymore, the doors shut, the power went out, and I felt the elevator lurch.

ME: --It's bad.

Really bad.