The best part Tom had lined up for Jeremy in the wake of losing See the Light was understudy for the little-known star of a long-running show which, while not his dream part, would put enough money in his pocket to move out of Max’s. He’d auditioned for some off-Broadway stuff, too, and the last play had been so ridiculous that he sort of hoped they didn’t want him for it. Jeremy hadn’t said yes to anything yet, wondering if it might be better to get some other job. He’d always told himself that if he hadn’t made it after five years of trying, he should give up; now it had been six and he didn’t feel like he’d met his goal.
Or he was being defeatist and melodramatic.
He sat on the sofa that had been doubling as his bed for over a week, browsing Max’s Netflix account and contemplating his life. He still wasn’t quite over the fact that Max had mentioned them being more than friends the other night. He hadn’t meant to laugh, but Max’s gift for timing meant he wasn’t ready to hear it. Because of course he had thought about it, but mostly because he and Max were playing at cohabiting in a small space. He really needed a job soon so he could move out.
His phone rang. Normally, Jeremy would have let the strange number go to voicemail, but it was audition season. Not answering the phone meant someone else might get the job.
Or not—Jeremy wasn’t sure if that was true, but he was superstitious enough during audition season not to tempt fate. His pulse shot up and his heart pounded as he answered the phone.
“Is this Jeremy Reynolds?”
A frenetic version of “I Hope I Get It” played through his head. He wanted to sing, “I really neeeed this job...” to whoever was calling. He’d always thought the guitar lick in that song sounded like a heart palpitation.
“This is he,” Jeremy said, his voice cracking.
“Hi, it’s Terry Lewis, the casting director from See the Light.”
Wait...what? Jeremy swallowed. “Hello, sir.”
“You probably heard from your agent that we cast the part of Benjamin. And we did, but it fell through. Our actor decided to take another part.”
Oh, god. Jeremy couldn’t speak.
“Which is to say that we’d love to offer you the part of Benjamin.”
Jeremy couldn’t breathe. His body shut down, unable to make blood flow or take air in or function in any way. He sat on Max’s sofa, perfectly still, worried that if he moved he’d wake up. Maybe being offered the part after someone else had passed on it was not ideal, but it was a second chance, and Jeremy wasn’t going to push that away.
“Jeremy?”
“You’re...you’re offering me the part.”
“If you want it, it’s yours. And I have to say, I’m very excited to offer it to you. You were my first choice for this role, but the other actor we were looking at had more experience. I think him deciding to turn us down after all was a blessing, because I think you can really soar in this role. So I hope you still want the part.”
“I... I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life. I’m perfect for that part. It’s like you wrote it for me.” Jeremy sucked in a breath, his lungs resuming function. “I mean, thank you so much. I didn’t mean to be so effusive, but just... I’ve been thinking about this show since the audition. I can’t thank you enough for seeing something in me.” Jeremy panted. Although he was still a little disappointed to not be the first choice, he wasn’t about to throw away this opportunity. He could shine in this part; he’d show everyone he should have been the first choice all along.
Terry chuckled. “Your enthusiasm leads me to believe we made the right choice. But before you sign on, there’s one, er, unusual hitch. This was what made our other choice decide to take another part, if I’m honest.”
“Okay?”
“We’re on something of an accelerated schedule. As you probably know, Jack Hampton, in addition to investing in our little show, is a partner in the Shubert Organization and pulled some strings. See, the Hammerstein Theater is under renovation, and it was going to have a grand reopening at the beginning of the summer with a brand-new show that has kind of fallen apart. So Jack pulled some strings and got us into the theater. It helped, of course, that Mark Taupin won so many Oscars last year.” Mark Taupin was See the Light’s composer, and he’d penned the music for a big-budget Hollywood movie musical the previous year that had raked in a ton of awards and box office receipts, so he was a hot property. Jeremy had known intellectually that these people were all involved with the show, but it hit him rather suddenly that he’d not only auditioned for a show with a lot of big money behind it, but that he’d been offered the part.
Except...beginning of the summer? “Wait, are you telling me that the show is going to open on Broadway in, like, three months?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. I just found out a couple of days ago, or we would have told you at the audition. We had already secured a theater in Boston to do a run of the show later this spring, but I honestly expected to have more time to pull all this together, or that we’d be in residence in Boston for eight months or so, until we could get a theater here. This is going to put the pressure on the actors to figure out the show much faster than normal. I know it’s a big ask, but does that seem like something you can do?”
Jeremy had done a couple of Off-Broadway shows that had such tiny budgets they’d barely been able to afford rehearsal space, so they’d had about two weeks to pull the whole show together. The last show he’d done out of town had had a budget of about twelve dollars and a stick of gum, which severely limited how much time the cast could even be in the same room. “Yeah, I can do it. But that’s... Jesus, that’s soon.”
“I know. But if you’re on board, I’ll send all the paperwork to your agent.”
“I am. I really want to do this show. The scary schedule has not deterred me somehow.”
“Good. Excellent. Rehearsals start on Monday, nine o’clock sharp, at the Gladys Packham Studio on 45th Street. Do you need the address?”
“No, I’ve been there before. Seventh floor, right?”
“Yup. I’ll send a messenger with the script first thing tomorrow. The address on your headshot?”
Being reminded he was no longer with Ryan was less of a kick in the teeth than it had been a week ago, but it still hit Jeremy in an odd way, and he had to pause to gather his wits before explaining that he was staying with a friend temporarily, but the script could be sent to Max’s address. After rattling off the address, Jeremy thanked Terry again.
“You can thank me by living up to my expectations. I really think we’ve got something special with this show. Wait until you see the book. The music is gorgeous and innovative, the plot is timely but timeless at the same time, and we’re really excited to showcase an LGBTQ story on Broadway that isn’t Rent or The Boys in the Band, if you get what I mean.”
Jeremy didn’t know exactly what he meant—he assumed Terry meant those shows were dated—but he said, “Yes, I can’t wait to read it.”
“We’re trying to be coy about plot details, so I’d appreciate your discretion. Nothing posted on the internet, don’t gush too much to your mother, don’t spoil the show for anyone.”
“Of course.”
“I can’t emphasize that point enough. There’s a surprise in the first act, and we need it to feel like a surprise for the audience.”
Jeremy wanted to get his hands on that script so badly, his chest burned with it. “Understood.”
“Good. I’ll see you Monday. Congratulations, Jeremy.”
After he got off the phone, he sank to the floor and lay there for a long while, afraid to disturb anything. He’d just been cast in his dream role. It sounded like it would be a really juicy part. There was some kind of mystery around it that Jeremy couldn’t wait to discover. And he dared not think it lest he jinx it, but...could this be his big break?
He was still lying on the floor when Max got home.
“God, Jer, are you okay?”
“I got the part,” Jeremy whispered, still not quite believing it was true.
“What?”
He sat up, blood rushing out of his head. He shook himself and shouted, “I got the part!”
“Which part?”
“The part, Max. Lead in a new musical. The actor they hired backed out. I’m playing gay teenager Benjamin in See the Light!”
“Holy shit!”
Max ran to Jeremy and held out a hand to help him up. As soon as Jeremy was on his feet, Max wrapped him in a hug. Jeremy hooked his arms around Max and hugged him back, still dizzy with the realization that he’d actually landed the part he most wanted.
“I’m so happy for you,” Max said. “And, funny coincidence, Regina Morris was in my studio a few days ago. Did I tell you? She wants us to do the makeup.”
Jeremy laughed, giddiness bubbling over in him. “That’s amazing. It’s like this was meant to be.”
He became suddenly aware of the fact that he and Max were still hugging. Max lay his head against Jeremy’s shoulder, then looked up and met Jeremy’s gaze, his arms still around Jeremy’s torso. Jeremy’s own hands were pressed into Max’s back. They were still in each other’s space, and an odd intimacy crept into the moment. They stared into each other’s eyes, and Jeremy was close enough that he could see little flecks of gold in Max’s. Then Jeremy grew uncomfortable; this was too much. The hug went on too long, too much of Jeremy’s body was touching Max’s, and something in his head screamed that this was not quite right. He stepped away and cleared his throat. He and Max were friends; they didn’t have this kind of intimacy.
And yet Max smiled at Jeremy with so much affection written all over his face, from the crinkles beside his eyes to the sappy half smile, that Jeremy could instantly picture what it would be like to be with Max in a more intimate way. Max was such a sweet guy that whoever he ended up with would be very lucky. It wouldn’t be a hardship to come home to that expression every night. It might be nice, actually, to exchange quick pecks before discussing dinner, to snuggle together on the sofa while watching a movie, to make love at night in increasingly interesting ways.
Jeremy shook his head. He and Max didn’t have that kind of relationship. But he smiled just the same. “I can’t believe this.”
“Believe it, Jeremy. You deserve this. You’ve been working at it for so long.”
Jeremy wasn’t sure that was true—he’d really only been acting for a few years, and there were still a lot of ways this could go wrong—but he basked in Max’s praise anyway.
“You want to go out tonight?” Max asked. “To celebrate, I mean. Anthony’s performing at Frocks, or we could just get dinner in the neighborhood. Whatever you want.”
Jeremy wasn’t that eager to go to Manhattan, so he said, “You know that sports bar on Vanderbilt? The one with those garlic parmesan fries? Let’s go there.” And he felt good about his decision, because he didn’t want to celebrate with a room full of drag queens and semi-strangers. He wanted to celebrate with the one person in his life who had always believed in him.
Max smiled. “That’s perfect. Let’s go.”