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Seven months later.
New York City.
#
AFTER THE SHOW, I HUNG out in my dressing room until I was sure most of the rest of the cast had left. Tonight had been a good performance, finally; one I could be proud of. I knew everyone was especially pleased, but somehow having to hear congratulations seemed more imposing than getting everyone’s cold shoulders. So I hid out.
Despite the fact that the run had ended up going smoothly, I was only just feeling in my usual groove. Even so, I was glad this play was a limited engagement. On the other hand, I didn’t have anything immediately lined up—no work to throw myself into—except for the upcoming press junket. But I tried to push thoughts of that out of my mind.
I was nodding my goodbye to our doorman when I heard someone calling my name from the near-empty wings and I cringed.
“Hey, Xavier, I thought you’d left,” said Andrew, our director.
“Not yet,” I answered sheepishly.
“I just wanted to say thanks for tonight,” he said, approaching. “We haven’t really talked about things since rehearsals. That was a rough spot, I know, so I didn’t want to harp on it. But whatever it was that had you so blocked, you soldiered through. And, frankly, I’m floored at how you’ve turned it around. I’ll admit I was worried about you for a bit. I wondered if they’d sent me a different actor than the one I’d auditioned. You really had me quaking in my boots.”
I nodded. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“I won’t pry,” said Andrew. “But I hope you’re doing better now. And, again, thanks for whatever voodoo you worked because you’ve been amazing. I don’t have to hide my face from anybody or change my name after all.”
He laughed loudly and I gave a tight smile.
“Sorry, hope that doesn’t sound completely self-centered,” he added, clapping me on the shoulder.
“Not at all,” I said, proving again that I was a good actor.
“We’re gonna give them a closing weekend for the books.”
“You bet,” I said. Saved by the bell, I thought as my cell started to ring. “Sorry, I’ve gotta take this.”
“Of course. See you tomorrow,” replied Andrew as I dashed out of the stage door.
I bounded onto the street, wrapping my scarf tighter around my neck as I answered the call.
“Biiiiitch! Why didn’t you tell me the poster was out today!”
“Hey, Jaelyn,” I answered with a chuckle.
“Oh my god, it is everything! Don't tell me you haven't seen it yet.”
“I haven't actually,” I lied.
Of course, I'd seen the picture. I spent most of my free time stalking Denny on social media. Not that there was much to see, mostly movie star stuff, related to his new project—the action flick he’d secured in London. Him on location in some exotic place; him smiling in a group photo; him with his arm around his stunt double.
“Dennis and Carlos both posted it earlier, along with some behind-the-scenes shots. You guys look adorable. I’m surprised you didn’t get them.”
“I’ve been off social media for a few days. I’ve been kinda keeping to myself lately.”
“Yeah, I’ve been kinda noticing that.”
“Sorry.”
“No apologies, babe. But you know I’m here whenever you want to talk?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Good. Cuz I am going to be calling your ass constantly. Because I am flipping out and this isn’t even my movie. Are you living or what?”
I started laughing; Jaelyn’s enthusiasm was always infectious and always a tonic.
“When is the premiere?” she said.
“I'm not sure if we're doing LA or NYC first, I have to check. We have a few festival screenings before then, anyway.”
“‘But you’re obviously invited as my date to whichever premiere comes first, Jaelyn.’ You meant to say?”
“Obviously.”
“Good. I can feel it on this one, babe. The studio is really pushing it. I’ve heard all kinds of stuff around town, even the words Oscar buzz and it hasn’t even screened yet. You and Dennis are going to get so much attention.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty exciting,” I said flatly.
“Well, that was completely convincing,” she said with sarcasm.
“I'm just tired, I guess. It hasn't really hit me yet. And I'm still kinda wrapped in the headspace of this play and all that.”
“Of course,” she agreed but I could tell she wasn't buying it. “Dennis seems pretty excited about it too.”
I stopped midstride. A pedestrian bumped into me, muttering, “Get off the sidewalk, asshole.”
“So you spoke to Dennis?” I asked, trying to keep my tone measured.
“Well, I couldn’t very well attend the man’s birthday party and not speak to him. It was this past weekend, remember? We texted about it before.”
“Yeah, guess I just lost track of the days,” I said. “How was he doing?”
“To be completely honest, he looked really crestfallen when he saw me. I think he only really invited me on the off chance that you’d come with me.”
“Of course not. He loved you. And he knows I'm in a play.”
“Yes, I did remind him that you were on the complete opposite coast right now. It was cute, he kind of blushed. But, anyway, all he talked about was you.”
I grimaced. “Oh, come on, Jae.”
“Bitch, I do not lie. He played the good host or whatever, but every time he made his way back to me, which—listen—was a few too many times, the conversation made its way back to you. The man was digging for information harder than a broke archaeologist looking for treasure.”
I chuckled. “Oh, whatever. You’re so silly.”
“Whatever nothing. That cold shoulder routine you're pulling is working, baby, he is so thirsty.”
“It's not a routine.”
Jaelyn sucked in air through her teeth.
“Baby, you completely cut him off. Like, full-stop, period, end of sentence, send no further telegrams.”
“I didn’t cut him off. I just separated myself from a bad situation. Which was bad, I may remind you, because of all of his stuff, not because I wanted to.”
“If you say so, sis. But tell me you weren't hoping it would work like this.”
I scoffed even though the truth was hard to deny.
“Anyway, if his feelings are hurt, he's got his beautiful fiancée to make him feel better.”
“Or not. She certainly wasn’t anywhere nearby during the party.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“I mean, he didn’t change his status from It’s Complicated to Single but he was most definitely alone.”
“But wasn't it at their place?”
“I suppose to. But I certainly didn’t see any signs of it being their place. Looked like a single occupant home to me. At least from snooping around when no one was looking. And you know I’m good at snooping.”
“You are the most, Jae.”
“The absolute most.”
I suddenly felt exhausted and weighed down.
“I better go,” I said. “It’s freezing out here. I’ll call you tomorrow?”
“You better.”
“I miss you like crazy, can’t wait to see you soon.”
“Ditto, obviously, bitch,” she replied and paused. “But, for real, this film is going to be really great, Zay. I feel it. Don’t let any of that other shit get in the way, okay? You should enjoy your moment. You deserve it.”
“I will, I promise.”
“Okay, goodnight, babe.”
I leaned against the side of a building, lost in thought. So Dennis had been asking about me? Maybe I should have answered his invitation after all, instead of ignoring it. At least to wish him a happy birthday. But I just assumed it was a generic group text. Or had I just told myself that? I wouldn’t have known what to say if the text had led to a phone call or anything else. That was the real reason I didn’t respond—I was too scared of more.
I zipped my jacket up tighter, inhaling deeply of the cold night air, and trundled off to find the subway entrance.
#
AS I ENTERED MY APARTMENT, my phone began to ring again. I slammed the door shut and answered.
“Xavier!” My agent, Evan, thundered in his too-deep baritone. “Zay, good baby, man, I hear you were on fucking fire tonight!”
“Thanks, Evan. Glad to hear it.”
“Not half as glad as me, pal! Not gonna lie to you, my man, but we were all worried. That dress rehearsal, my god what a catastrophe. We were seriously worried you’d lost the touch there for a minute! But not for nothing, you burned that stage to bits opening night. And you’ve just kept on burning.”
“I know,” I replied, chewing on my bottom lip. “It’s just that I’ve been in a weird headspace I guess—”
“Pal, friend, don't explain,” Evan interrupted. “Don't worry about it. Everyone has their process, you know? What matters is you got there in the end. You got asses in the seats and good reviews in the rags. And you’ve got the festival in two weeks. We’re really excited about this film.”
“Yeah, the festival.”
“Did you see the poster James Dennis posted?”
“Not yet. I heard about it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Great pictures—you two look terrific. He's got a ton of likes already. Check your email—you’ve got a few to choose from. Make sure you spread them around on social media. Build the hype. The film is already getting a lot of buzz, the studio is ready to really push it, so you got to be on your A-game. Gonna be a long press junket. This festival is just the first stop. You’re gonna be traveling the fucking world, my man, for at least a solid two, three months. Take your vitamins, kid.”
He laughed his rough laugh.
“All right, kid, you let me know if you need anything. And I'll see you closing night. My man!”
“Thanks, Evan.”
“Hey, that's what I'm here for, right? And post those pictures—build the hype!”
“Got it, yeah. ‘Build the hype.’”
I resisted the urge to look at the publicity photos. I wasn’t sure what seeing his face would do to me right now. Not tonight. But I felt guilty about how I’d been behaving so I quickly texted him belated birthday wishes. I lay back, closing my eyes. As I drifted to sleep, I told myself not to dream about him, but secretly hoped I would.
#
THE PHONE BUZZED AND my eyes shot open. I didn’t know what time it was, but sunlight was streaming through my window. I grappled around on the bed, trying to find the cell. I snatched it up, hoping to see his name.
It was a series of text messages from Liberto.
I smacked myself, feeling like a fool for how desperately I had wanted it to be Dennis.
[LIBERTO]
Hey, papo, I have tickets to your show
I get in tomorrow for 3 days
Wanna go for a drink – or whatever - after the show?
I dropped the phone onto my pillow.
I shook my head and silently chastised myself. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was pining over some closet case who was on the other side of the country. Meanwhile, a man—a sexy-ass, decidedly-into-me man—was buying tickets to come see my show and wanted to spend the evening with me.
Was I a complete fool?
No, I decided I wasn’t. I grabbed the phone and texted Liberto back without waiting.
I was definitely down for drinks. Or whatever.