Timothy Bloom - "'Til the End of Time (ft V. Bozeman)".

     Kirk Baxter, co-editor of David Fincher's 2010 film The Social Network, winner of the 83rd Academy Awards' Oscar for best film editing, arrives home at 3:03 am on Monday, February 28, 2011. He notices the time while he is pouring himself a glass of cold water from the cold water device on the front of his fridge. "Katie!" he calls. "Katie, it's 3:03!"
     Katie is standing in the hall, taking off her earrings. "It's 3:03?" she says.
     "It's another one," he says. He takes another sip of water. "Just like when it was 7:07. And 12:12. Remember?"
     Katie is standing clutching her earrings in her palm and looking at herself in the mirror. She is glowing. Kirk tells her so. He appears beside her with a glass of cold water and he kisses the back of her neck.
     "Lucky night," she says. There is still champagne in her voice.
     "A lucky night, a lucky sight," he says, and laughs. He puts his mouth to her shoulder. "A lucky bite." Katie rolls her eyes at the mirror. She is blushing. She thinks she has been blushing for six or seven hours. It wasn't just when Kirk won: it was the way he dragged her along the red carpet, and the way he clutched her thigh during the opening overture, and the way Annette Bening told her she looked lovely as they were waiting to be seated at the Gallery. Later, standing with Dave Fincher and Mike De Luca near the bar, Angelina Jolie strode by; and it was her ear, not Mike's, not Dave's, that Kirk had leaned into to say, "I feel like I'm in Atlantis."
     "Tonight was fun," she says.
     "Yes?"
     "Yes."
     "For me, too."
     "More fun than last time," she says.
     "Because I won?"
     "Because everything," she says.
     "Because everything," he agrees. "Because everything, everything." Kirk touches her hip and she turns and she is wearing her gown and he is wearing his tux and he kisses her lips. She kisses him back. She strokes his hair with one hand and the other hand is closed at the nape of his neck. It is holding two earrings.
     He breaks away, shaking his head happily. "We could have stayed up all night."
     "Let's stay up all night," she says.
     "Oh?"
     They are both grinning now, even larger. "Oh," she says, slipping her fingers under his jacket and squeezing his cummerbund.
     He leans his head back. "I just want to ride motorcycles and learn to surf and edit films and go to faraway places and love you for the rest of my life."
     "Where do you want to go?"
     "To China," he says.
     "How about to the moon," she says.
     "To the fucking moon."
     She arches an eyebrow. "To the what?"
     "The," he says. "Fucking. Moon."
     She steps out of her first heel. Her foot is bare on the maple floor. "Oscar-winner Kirk Baxter, please lead the way."

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