“ASHLAAAND,” Jasmine shouted and, when Ash reached striking distance, launched herself into his arms, her black ponytail streaking out behind her. He caught her easily, despite her height, and she wrapped her limbs round him in a full-body hug.
He took in a deep breath. She still smelled of honey and freshly baked goodies.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said with exuberance. “We got picked up. Can you believe it?”
“No,” Ash said with a self-deprecating laugh. He really couldn’t. He knew their pilot was gold, well-put-together on all fronts, and their showrunner had a résumé of success, but all that meant naught when it came to the television gods.
He might have been doing his best not to hope.
“But we did, and we’re here.” Jasmine pulled back and slipped gracefully from his arms. She brought grace to everything she did, though you wouldn’t think it seeing her joggers and ball cap.
“Come on, Highlander—”
Ash rolled his eyes. “I’m from Glasgow.” Or close enough, to Americans.
“—come say hello again to everyone.”
She grasped his hand and pulled him to the table. Ash might have a natural un-Scottish bent toward shyness, but he wasn’t wary of this group. He and his castmates had got on like a burning house during the week they filmed the pilot, and he was relieved to see them all again.
“Hey.” Miya gave him an awkward finger wave. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, several locks falling into her face and sweeping in front of her large chunky black frames. She’d curled her petite form into her chair, a feat no one else there was likely to manage, and one knee poked out over the top of the table.
“Hallo,” Ash said. “S’good to see you.” He smiled for her, then turned to the other two members of their cast, Kim and Michael.
Michael, tall, dark-skinned, and beautiful, nodded and smiled in greeting. He lounged in his chair, looking very cool, a contrast to the boisterous energy Ash had often seen that first week. “So glad to see you again, darling.”
Ash rolled his eyes. The Irish accent might charm the North Americans, but it didnae work on him.
“Guid tae see you too, cupcake.” Two could play that game.
Kim snorted, one sardonic eyebrow raised. She hadn’t put product in her short hair today, and her tawny brown fringe swept across her forehead. She was dressed down in flannel plaid and jeans, and pulling the look off well. “You two trying to practice the sexual tension?” she asked drily.
Despite himself, Ash’s cheeks warmed. That was the number one reason he’d wanted this job: Hamish Dunbar was gay.
Michael grinned. “Of course. Nothing comes easy without practice.”
Jasmine snorted. “As if your oh-so-obvious on-screen pining wasn’t one of the number one likes of the pilot.”
Miya nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Janet told me it was very popular with the female viewers.” Even when excited, her voice remained quiet.
Though he’d heard similarly from their showrunner, Ash scratched his new beard, self-conscious.
“Oh!” Jasmine clasped her hands in front of her chest. “They’re going to make so many fan works about you two.”
Having been half of a show’s most popular ’ship before, Ash had seen some of the stuff fans could produce. People had gifted some pretty fantastic art to him and Adele. He even had one of Zvi and Moira framed on his wall.
He was proud to be part of something that meant so much to people, but the thought of being the center of that enthusiastic attention once again made him blush.
Michael didn’t seem fazed, possibly because his résumé so far only consisted of guest roles. He smirked and said, “Well, I am very handsome and charming.”
Kim rolled her eyes. “And it’s all about you, of course.”
“All right, children,” Janet called. She stood in front of her chair and gestured about with her water bottle. “As much as it pleases me to see you all getting along so well, how about we get this table read started?”
“Hell yes,” Jasmine crowed.
Janet smiled. “Thank you, Jasmine. First I want to welcome everyone, new and returning, to the table read for episode two of Mythfits.”
Everyone cheered and applauded.
“Now, as we have a couple of new faces in the room, let’s do quick introductions before we get underway.”
They went around the table, and cast and crew alike gave their names and roles.
“I’m Miya, and I play the yokai weather spirit, Nariko.” She gave a sweet smile and waved to everyone.
“I’m Michael, and I play the Irish fairy, obviously.” Miya poked him. “Oh, Niall.” He rolled his eyes at the name, but his lips quirked.
Kim went next. “I’m the otter shifter, Hana’a.” She brushed her bangs out of her face.
Jasmine grinned and introduced herself as the “kickass vampire-lady, Roxanna.”
Which left Ash, or “Hamish, the brownie.”
“And love of my feckin’ life, sugarplum,” Michael interjected.
Laughter rose around the room, and Ash relaxed into his seat, smiling.
And so it began.
“IT’S everything I ever wanted,” Ash told Langston later that night over the phone.
He hummed softly. “Yeah?”
“Ay. The script is good, it’s funny and real, and my costars are amazing and talented.” Ash fiddled with his coin, twisting it round the chain. “And—” He cleared his throat. “—my character is gay.” He’d been reluctant to mention it before, but now that filming for the full series had started, it was time to tell.
After the longest few seconds of Ash’s life, Langston said, “Really?”
“It’s, uh, why I pushed for the audition.” He’d ranted to Langston months ago about his agent calling it a waste of his time. Even if he could manage the comedy, no one would hire the brooding Zvi to star in a dramedy, fantasy-based or no. But not once had he mentioned that Hamish was openly gay from the first episode or that Niall the faerie and Roxanna the vampire had extremely fluid and flexible sexualities—not to mention the tentative noises the writers made about Miya’s character being asexual.
“Really?”
“Aye.”
“Oh. Are you planning on, er, ‘coming out,’ then? If you’re playing this queer bloke on TV?”
“No,” Ash said quickly, memories of too-trusting Sam intruding. “Definitely no’. No’ ready for that. But Ah’m ready for this.”
“Good.” Langston huffed. “You know we’d support you, if you wanted—”
“Aye,” Ash blurted, cheeks burning. He’d never doubted it, but better not let Langston finish that thought.
“Good. Ye numpty.”
Ash snorted a laugh and said round the lump in his throat, “Thanks, roaster.” After living in Canada for seven years and London for three before that, Ash had mostly trained the Scottish out of his everyday, but it always came back full-force with Langston.
“So. How are Fi and the girls?” Ash asked, desperate for the conversation change.
“Fit and fine as ever. Linsey says she’s gonna be a ballet dancer, and wee Shona discovered paints. Her art is hanging everywhere. Fi says we’ll have to start binning it soon to make room for more.”
A soft noise escaped Ash. “Fi sent me a photo yesterday.” He was so grateful for mobiles and Insta; without them he’d never see his nieces. “They’re getting so big.”
“Aye. That’s what weans do.”
“Shut yer gob,” Ash said without heat. He and Langston were close as children, but when Ash moved away to acting school and then to Canada to follow a job—and maybe even to escape… something—the distance had done its inevitable damage.
A key turned in the front lock, and Etta walked in carrying a paper bag. Dinner had arrived.
“Etta brought me tea. Best say g’night,” he said, watching her kick off her boots and lock the door.
“Alright. I’ll tell Fi and the girls you say hello. Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
“How’s the brother?” Etta asked as she transitioned into the kitchen. She settled on the other side of the counter and began pulling Indian out of the bag.
“Alright,” he answered. “Smells well tidy.”
Etta smiled at him, then turned to get plates. “You’re always difficult to understand after you talk to him.”
Ash rolled his eyes and made for the fridge. “Want a bevvy?” He poured a water for himself and grabbed a beer when she asked.
They settled at the breakfast bar and dished out food.
“How was the first day as a fairy?”
Ash paused, his fork halfway to the paneer dish, and gave her a look.
She shrugged. “Nope, it’s never going to get old. I’ll make that pun until I die.”
Ash took a bite of paneer. “Numpty.”
Etta narrowed her eyes. “If you think I don’t know what that means after four years, then the only numpty here is you.” She pointed a judgmental finger at him.
Ash grinned. “So, how was your day, dear?”
She rolled her eyes at the tired joke and reminded him that she’d spent much of her day watching his sorry ass—ouch—but then, as always, she shared some conversation, news from home, her trip to the gym.
The very best of traditions.
After they finished eating, he tidied up while Etta watched him, smirking. Then, because of their early start in the morning, they said good night and retreated to their bedrooms.
Ash curled up round his pillow and closed his eyes. With his heart made light by a new job and love from his brother, he fell into an easy sleep.