Everyone can relate to being head over heels for an actor or actress. You imagine how you will first meet, playing the reel over and over in your head until the entire scene is perfection. Nothing can be wrong from your hair to your makeup to your outfit to the words exchanged between the two of you.
Okay, maybe everyone can’t relate, and maybe I’m just crazy. The latter was something most of my friends echoed throughout my childhood, as I didn’t have crushes on Jesse McCartney and Aaron Carter. Instead, I was a huge geek, and I was raised on comics and the classics: Star Wars and Star Trek. So, while most kids were falling for the typical 2000s "heartthrobs,” I was in love with superheroes and super villains on the big screen. And the super villain I loved the most was the Green Goblin played by James Franco in the 2002 adaptation of Spider-Man. As I got older, I continued to be a dedicated fan of his and watched all of his movies even when I was so uncomfortable that it was painful, which occurred during Spring Breakers. But despite all odds, I powered on and continued to pine away for James Franco.
I’m not sure why, but I guess life decided to reward my insanity. Because not only did James Franco announce that he was coming to Cleveland, he also said he would be at his family gallery, the Verne Gallery, which was a ten minute walk from my apartment, to showcase his artwork in A California Childhood: The Art of James Franco and Tom Franco. To say I was ecstatic when I heard this news does not begin to cover how I felt, and I am honestly surprised that I did not explode into multiple heart-shaped confetti pieces, as that would probably be the most accurate way to describe my feelings at the time.
So when the day came to see James Franco, I decided to recreate all the details I had planned in the aforementioned reel. I curled my hair and made sure that my hair mousse left no curl behind. I scoured through multiple YouTube makeup tutorials for the perfect one that would compliment my favorite skater dress, and I rehearsed multiple dialogues in my head. You would think I was auditioning for a role in a movie produced by James Franco, considering my preparation for this day.
Nothing could go wrong. But when I locked the door of my apartment, the humidity hit me. A ten-minute walk later, and I arrived at the art exhibit to stand in a line that wrapped around the gallery twice and traveled into the parking lot. I could feel myself transitioning; I had become the Wicked Witch of the West and had begun melting. (I should have worn green face paint and pretended that was my goal, as James had played Oz in The Wizard of Oz.)
Forty minutes went by, and that’s when the commotion started. People started screaming and leaving their spots in the line. It was chaos. I ran towards the outbreak, with my iPhone ready. Suddenly, everyone drew their phones, squealing. I saw them pointing their cameras at a window above the gallery. He must have been inside. I pulled my phone out, but I couldn’t see him. I thought it was weird that everyone seemed to be backing away from the building despite the fact that he was in it, so I turned to the girl next to me and asked if she could see him. That’s when she motioned behind me.
When I turned around, I realized my mistake. I had been facing the wrong direction. Everyone had been holding their cameras up to take a selfie with him because he had been behind us the entire time. And now, there was a huge gap between James Franco and me. He was surrounded. I tried to move parallel to him to catch up with him, but people swarmed. I couldn’t let him slip away from me, though, especially when what we had was true love, even if he didn’t know it yet.
That’s when my Jimmy Neutron brain-blast occurred. Since James was moving down the line, I would just run to a spot before he reached it, and since James had a security guard to push him through, he moved faster than the crowd did, so I would be able to take a picture with James before the crowd caught him again. For the first time in my life, I voluntarily ran, and I stood waiting for him to walk behind me, while dabbing the sweat away from my face. But when he stood directly behind me, I died along with my brain. I couldn’t help it; James Franco was touching the back of my right arm. When I came back to life, he hadn’t moved, and I realized that the camera on my iPhone was still facing forward. So with a shaking hand, I tapped the screen of my iPhone and changed the direction I was taking a picture in and took a selfie with James Franco.
After that, James Franco continued to move down the line. I looked at him as he walked away, and my mind played the saddest ballad it could muster. For not only was James Franco so much more devilishly handsome than he appeared in movies and had a smile that made me grateful to be alive, but I had confirmed what I knew all along, I was in love.
Despite my thirteen years of planning, nothing occurred as I had intended it to. Turns out you can’t rehearse for reality, but that might not be such a bad thing. Because, who knows? Maybe your reality will surprise you.
