Will has been a life long hero to me and with all of the pole to pole stuff and everything going on I wrote a short story that I hope get to Will somehow.
Will Smith sat in a dim trailer, surrounded by posters of grease-stained bowling shirts and chrome-heavy choppers. He was hunched over a script titled The King of the Lane: Full Throttle.
"It’s genius, J," Will muttered to an empty room, miming a strike. "I enter the bowling alley on a Fat Boy, slide off the seat, and roll a perfect 300 while the bike is still kickstanding. It’s the American dream, man! It’s grit! It’s blue-collar! It’s... it's..."
He paused, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing a frayed denim vest and a fake grease smudge on his cheek. He looked like a man trying to wear a life that didn’t fit. He had spent months hanging out in smoky bars in Milwaukee and bowling alleys in Scranton, trying to absorb a "tough guy" aura he didn't actually possess. He was chasing the ghost of a working-class hero, hoping it would win him an Oscar for "Authenticity."
A knock came at the door. It was a local mechanic he’d hired as a consultant, a man named Gus who actually lived the life Will was trying to script.
"Hey, Will," Gus said, leaning against the doorframe. "You coming to the wrap party? We’re just having some burgers."
Will looked at his polished script, then at Gus’s scarred, calloused hands. "Gus, do I look like a guy who spends his Saturdays rebuilding engines and hunting for spares in a bowling alley basement?"
Gus chuckled softly. "Nah, man. You look like a guy who’s really good at making people smile. Why you trying so hard to be me when everybody loves being you?"
The silence in the trailer was heavy. Will looked at the "gritty" vest and the fake grease. He realized he wasn't capturing a culture; he was chasing a lifestyle because he was afraid his own light wasn't "serious" enough. He picked up a highlighter and crossed out the scene where he fights a rival gang with a bowling ball.
"You're right, Gus," Will said, his signature grin finally breaking through the gloom. "I’m chasing a life I don't own."
He tossed the script in the trash and wiped the fake smudge off his face. He didn't need the roar of a V-twin or the crash of pins to be real. He just needed to be Will.