Leonardo looked into the antique mirror in the master bathroom of his mansion. His hair was styled perfectly, his skin was flawless, and his facial hair had never looked more beautiful. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a sadness he could conceal from the rest of the world, but here alone could not hide from himself. He picked up the Waterford Crystal soap dish that Marty had given him as a wrap present and threw it at his reflection, shattering the glass. “This is a metaphor for my dreams,” he thought as he watched his assistant pick up the shards of glass with her bare hands.
Oscar Weekend was always a difficult time for Leo. If he wasn’t nominated, he had to act happy for the people who were which was hard enough, but the years he was nominated were even worse. Because try as he might, he always ended up the proverbial bridesmaid. And this year was the worst of all, because he no longer had his friend Kate to commiserate with. She had her trophy now, and because of sub-clause 46a of the Celebrity Friendship Contract they had signed on the set of Titanic, they now no longer spoke.
Leo pressed the secret button underneath the mantle of his bedroom fireplace to reveal his hidden room, where he kept all of his most treasured possessions. He bypassed the cocaine corner and went straight to antique hope chest situated beside the display case containing the eponymous mask from The Man in the Iron Mask. He opened the chest and found what he was looking for immediately: the “Kate + Leo BFFs Forever” scrapbook.
Flipping through the pages he was flooded with happy memories. The image of Kate setting fire to Jennifer Connelly’s garage after she beat her for Best Supporting Actress. The sound of Kate’s laughter as he smashed the windows of Jamie Foxx’s stretch Hummer after losing Best Actor to him three years later. The unforgettable year they had both lost and had taken a private jet to Argentina where they paid a tidy sum to hunt and kill a man a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Forest Whitaker and Helen Mirren, respectively. A single tear rolled down Leo’s face as he realized that he would never again be able to create a cherished memory of violence and mayhem with his friend.
He was pulled out of this melancholy reverie by a new text alert. His heart leapt as he saw that it was from Jonah. “hey bro, im downstairs w/ those croatian models u brought home last nite. care 2 join 4 some jacuz?” Leo dried his tears, directed his eyes to the cocaine corner, and smiled.