The ice inside the glass at the Chateau Marmont had completely melted, leaving a pale ring on the dark wood table.
"Ryan, if we can go back to the fireplace scene for a second," the woman from IndieWire said, her voice cutting through the outside noise, "how much of that was Luca's direction, and how much of that was you experiencing something real?"
I took a moment to answer and looked at Andrew briefly. "It was very much real, it was one of the last scenes we shot. And actually, I had an earpiece on that played Stevens' song 'Visions of Gideon.' There wasn't a camera guy behind the camera. We were shooting on film, too, so they can't just keep punching in digitally. You lost the sense there was a camera there, to the extent that maybe we lost some scenes because we weren't even cheated out enough of the camera."
Andrew smiled. "I mean it was a small crew, so everyone knew each other by name. I remember one time, when Fernanda Perez put the blood tube up Ryan's nose—"
"God, that felt weird."
He continued, "I tried to find a way to activate it, I thought there was a red button or something."
I laughed, "What a great day, it was the last day on set. And the scene after, when we hid in that hallway and talked for what seemed like hours."
"Yeah, it felt like hours after I massaged your feet."
The interviewer laughed and looked past me, toward Rebecca. "One final question, was there a favorite moment on set that really stays with you?"
Andrew said, "That balcony scene, and we got an early demo for 'Mystery of Love'—that I hear everywhere now—it really is the perfect song for that moment, that film."
I nodded, "Yeah, listening to that song brought back some memories." I didn't know what else to say, so I looked toward Rebecca, who held her hand up.
"Thank you so much for your time."
I turned toward Andrew and lowered my voice. "How many of these do we have?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I took an Adderall before this, so I'm good."
"Did you actually?"
"No, but I wish."
Another person came in, wearing a pink suit—he was a small, feminine man, the kind you could picture anywhere. "Hello, I am Nick Freund."
"Hello," we said in unison.
"First off, I can't tell you," his cue card repeatedly hit his knee, "how much I fucking love this movie, and yeah, I'm just gonna drop the f-bomb."
Andrew said, "Fuck yeah, I'm there with you."
He continued, "Umm, but I want to know, because it shows how crazy people get when they fall in love, what's the craziest thing you two have done in love?"
There was a brief silence. I mumbled, "I have done some weird things, I mean, done the usual things like take them out on the beach. Umm, in New York, I went on those scammy bikes that they take you around that say 'I LOVE NYC' and had to pay 100 dollars. And I didn't have the cash back then, so—"
Andrew smiled, "Aren't you a New Yorker?"
"I was, and the guy honestly gave me a good price. I have seen times when it's like 400 or 500 dollars, and it was her first time in the city."
Nick put the cue card up to his face for a second. "I completely understand that."
Andrew said, "When I was really young, like when I was a teen, you get infatuated, you do weird things too. Like when you look back, you're not in that chemical haze, was I a stalker?"
I smiled, "I mean, I don't have the experience compared to Andrew, so there—"
"It's not a competition," he said with a half-smile.
Nick asked, "How about any relationship advice?"
I said, "I mean, the whole monologue that Michael gave to me. I remember afterwards he told me, for advice in general, 'You should never have to set yourself on fire to keep someone warm.'"
"Wow," Nick said.
Andrew nodded, "Michael is like our Gandalf."
Nick chimed in, "What were your first impressions of each other?"
"My God, I am going to act with Spider-Man!"
Andrew laughed, "I think the whole set you talked about Spider-Man."
"I had a Spider-Man themed birthday twice, I'm from New York."
I looked toward the blue CMBYN poster. "But no, it was, 'God, how lucky am I to shoot this film for the next month and a half with someone that I trust?'"
Andrew said, "I think my first impression of you was—I mean, my favorite thing about you is the unguarded openness and the rich internal life that you wear on the surface, which makes you a great performer. When we met in Luca's house and did some rehearsals, it felt like we were an extension of something hidden, like a fossil, and Luca helped dig it out."
"Couldn't say it any better."
"Okay," Nick said, glancing behind me. "I want to mix it up a bit and play Call Me by Your Name rapid fire. I have a list of things, and you have to say the first thought that comes to mind. Are you ready to accept this challenge?"
"Yes," we said in unison.
"Peaches."
Andrew said, "Cream."
"Luca, my God."
"Love."
I said, "Andrew."
Andrew said, "Hate."
Nick said, "Andrew."
I said, "Spider-Man."
Andrew said, "Bad actor."
Nick said, "Ryan."
I immediately said, "Asshole."
Andrew nodded, "Correct."
Nick smiled, "Sex."
Andrew said, "Emma."
I looked down at the floor and said, "Stone."
I could feel Nick's eyes on me, ready for a follow-up, but he looked away and said, "Music."
Andrew said, "Dance."
I said, "Visions."
Nick said, "Call Me by Your Name."
We both said in unison, "And I'll call you by mine."
Nick smiled. "Final question: what do you hope people will get from this film?"
I looked toward the poster again. "That this isn't a gay thing or even a straight thing. It's love. And that monologue Michael has is just beautiful, so I hope it can be a roadmap to any future parents."
"Thank you so much."
"Our next guest tonight had quite a summer in Northern Italy," Jimmy's voice rang through the overhead speakers. "His new film, Call Me by Your Name, just expanded into eight hundred screens this morning, and critics are already calling it one of the most beautiful performances of the year."
The house band kicked into an upbeat brass riff, and the stage manager beside the curtain gave me a sharp two-finger point.
"Please welcome back to the show, Ryan Stone!"
The curtain parted, and the heat of the studio key lights hit me all at once. The roar from the bleachers was louder than it had been for Looper. It was a wall of genuine shrieks from the front rows followed by polite applause from the older people in the back. Cleto and the Cletones were playing a brass-heavy, jazzy rendition of "Mystery of Love," and for a second, the surreal absurdity of hearing Sufjan Stevens on a late-night show almost made me laugh.
"Look at you!" Jimmy yelled over the applause, waiting for the audience to settle. He leaned back against his wooden desk, folding his hands. "You went away to Italy, ate some pasta, broke Spider-Man's heart, and now everyone in this town wants to know what you're taking to act this fast."
The crowd laughed, and I settled into the leather seat, smoothing down the lapel of my jacket. "First off, I didn't break his heart, Jimmy. He left me in the snow for an engagement ring. If anything, I'm the victim here. Second, I don't take anything except what Guillermo gives me."
The camera panned to Guillermo, who was just standing by and doing nothing. He gave a thumbs-up to me and said, "Big fan."
I laughed, and Jimmy continued, "Well, Andrew Garfield is standing backstage right now, and in the film, he literally massages your feet on a hallway floor while you're having a nosebleed. Did that make the friendship weird, or was that natural?"
The camera cut briefly to the side of the stage, where Andrew leaned against an equipment crate, holding a paper cup of coffee and giving a deadpan wave to the lens.
"It was in the script!" I laughed, raising both hands to the audience. "Luca wanted no acting on set or the feeling of it, but you know, I could have taken it to HR."
Jimmy chuckled, shuffling his cue cards. "The movie's expanding again on Friday to twelve hundred screens. Sony pushed up the rollout because people are losing their minds over it. Does it feel different this time around? Because Looper was massive, but this is an entirely different level of critical love."
"It's completely surreal," I said, resting an elbow on the armrest. "With Looper, you knew there were explosions and time travel and Bruce Willis holding a blunderbuss. With this, we were just riding rusty bicycles through Crema with Luca Guadagnino telling us to eat more peaches. We genuinely thought maybe fifty people at a film festival would watch it. Now I'm driving down Sunset and seeing my own face on a billboard."
"Well, your crying face is doing very well with the Oscar voters," Jimmy winked, drawing a chorus of whistles and cheers from the crowd. He leaned forward, tapping a finger on the desk. "Now, you haven't really taken a breath since wrapping that. In fact, you just finished another project that sounds like the polar opposite of a relaxing summer in Italy."
"Complete opposite," I nodded. "A film called Whiplash, directed by a brilliant guy named Damien Chazelle. It's about a hyper-ambitious jazz drummer at a music conservatory in New York and his ruthless instructor, played by J.K. Simmons. You thought Andrew was mean, well—"
Jimmy winced. "J.K. Simmons as an angry teacher. That sounds terrifying."
"Terrifying is an understatement," I said. "Damien doesn't believe in hand doubles, so I had to learn the drum charts. I went from romantic afternoons speaking Italian with Andrew to getting yelled at by a bald guy. But you know, it's a blessing."
"It sure is. Any nosebleeds in the film? Or peaches?"
The audience laughed. "Unfortunately no, just a lot of cussing and drumming."
Jimmy turned to face the camera with that trademark grin. "Well, you don't want to miss either of them. Call Me by Your Name is in theaters nationwide this weekend. Ryan Stone, everyone!"