Over at Buzzfeed, Leigh Stein paints a portrait of two lovers before the fall:
Jason and I met in 2007, at an audition for a tragedy. I was 22 and wanted the role of Medea. He was 18 and didn’t know what the play was about. We were paired as scene partners, and although I remember hardly anything of our actual audition in front of the director, I remember the rest of the night in acute detail: what his mouth looked like blowing Marlboro smoke in the cold when we stood outside the theater, the texture of his suede coat, the snowball fight we had in the parking lot, my wet socks when I removed my boots at his apartment, drinking a pitcher of Kool-Aid he made, and making out on the couch while the Oscars played on the TV and we pretended to watch. The Departed won that year.
There’s no sentimentality here. On the contrary, Jason is as much a beacon as a scapegoat, and as Stein celebrates him, on their way to the end, we celebrate right along with her.