That Jeremy’s fury and confusion didn’t affect his performance was a small miracle.
Over the course of the first week, each show got better. Alex had a dozen tweaks every morning when everyone showed up at the theater, but as the week went on, it was a word here or there instead of whole verses, or a character’s mark moving three feet to the left instead of reconfiguring the staging for an entire scene.
Jeremy had gotten pretty good at shutting down and tuning out anything but the show. He lived in the show. For three hours each night, he was Benjamin, not Jeremy. He was a teenager coping with a trauma that inspired him to come out of the closet, become involved politically, and fall in love with another boy. He wasn’t Jeremy, a twenty-eight-year-old man facing an uncertain future with the man he loved.
Because he loved Max. He loved Max in all the ways possible. That Max no longer wanted him caused actual physical pain in the dark of night. But he was able to push it away when he had to, and he excelled in those performances.
On the way back to his room after a performance one night, he stopped at the coffee shop in the hotel lobby to see about getting some tea. He was tired of trying to make tea in the room’s coffee maker, because that thing made everything taste like stale coffee. While he waited, Gus walked up.
“You were brilliant tonight,” Gus said. “I swear, you get better with every performance.”
Jeremy didn’t know how to respond. “Thanks. That’s nice of you to say.”
Gus ordered a sugary latte, and as they waited for the very slow barista to think about starting to make their drinks, Jeremy said, “Little late for coffee, isn’t it?”
“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me much. I just wanted something sweet.” Gus winked and reached over to tweak Jeremy’s cheek. “Oh, wait, I forgot, you’ve got an ‘It’s Complicated’ situation at home.”
Jeremy bit the inside of his cheek to keep from reacting too much. “That seems to be over,” he said. He wasn’t sure why. Continuing to deflect seemed like a better strategy.
“Oh. I’m so sorry. You need to talk about it?”
“No. I’m okay. A little bummed out about it.” That was an understatement, but Jeremy wasn’t close enough to Gus to confess anything. That, and he could still hear Max’s voice in his ear, telling him to go ahead and hook up with the guy who kept hitting on him. Jeremy had no interest, even if he’d been given the green light.
Gus looked around and rocked on his heels. Then he seemed to decide something and turned back to Jeremy. “Keenan said one of the channels this hotel gets is showing a bunch of old movie musicals tonight. Funny Girl, Kiss Me, Kate, a couple of others from the sixties. Want to watch together?”
It would have been better than watching alone. And maybe hanging out with Gus and putting some effort into getting to know him would take his mind off Max.
Or maybe looking at Gus would keep reminding Jeremy that Max didn’t want him.
The barista finally put out Jeremy’s tea. How long did he really need to put a tea bag in some hot water? “Milk’s over there,” the barista said with a grunt.
Jeremy glanced back at the condiment station and saw a half-full bottle of honey and a little dish with some lemons in it. Those lemons looked like they’d probably been sitting out for a few hours, so Jeremy squeezed a healthy amount of honey into his cup while Gus kept talking.
“I love Kiss Me, Kate. Well, it makes no sense. The music is really disconnected from the show. It was like Cole Porter woke up one day and was like, ‘I have all these songs and I want to write a musical about Taming of the Shrew, so how do I make that happen?’”
“He probably wrote the show after the songs,” Jeremy said, though he didn’t know that for sure. He liked Cole Porter’s songs more than his shows, though he had a fondness for Kiss Me, Kate, too. “Speaking of Funny Girl, I read a biography of Fanny Brice a few months ago. She was fascinating.”
Gus leaned against the counter and whisper-sang the first couple of lines of “Don’t Rain on My Parade.”
Jeremy laughed. He blew at the top of his tea as if that would do a damn thing to make it not as hot as lava. “All right, let’s watch some movie musicals.”
When Gus finally got his coffee, they rode the elevator up to Gus’s room. It was identical to Jeremy’s—on the small side, with a king bed dominating the space. Jeremy beelined to the little loveseat in the corner and sat cradling his tea.
“Your throat okay?” Gus asked.
“A little sore. That’s what the tea’s for.” He held up his cup.
Gus picked up the TV remote, turned on the TV, and navigated to the channel playing Funny Girl. “Oh, good. We haven’t gotten to ‘People’ yet.”
“That’s a beautiful song musically, but I never thought it completely made sense. Like, I get that it’s a love song, and she’s saying that people who are in love are very lucky and all that, but the lyrics are a little odd.”
Gus shrugged. “Most songs from musicals are like that. Especially the older ones. Like, apparently the title song from Cabaret is about Sally Bowles getting an abortion?”
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t think the song is about abortion, but that’s what’s happening in the show when Sally sings it. Have you ever seen the movie?”
“No, I’ve never seen a production of Cabaret at all. Only listened to the soundtrack.”
“Oh, you should see the movie! It’s so good. Liza Minelli is at her peak.”
Gus chuckled. “Okay. Or, like, pretty much all of Hair is just an acid trip.”
“Yeah. An acid trip with catchy songs.”
Gus leaned back on the sofa. “I worked on the Hair revival. I was a random hippie in the ensemble. Pranced around in just a beat-up suede vest and some very tight bell bottoms every night, with peace signs painted on my chest. It was weird.”
Jeremy had never been in Hair, but he’d seen a few productions of it. “Did you get naked?”
“No, only the principal cast did. I’m sort of glad. I don’t have much shame, but I can’t imagine taking my clothes off in front of fifteen hundred people, or whatever the capacity of that theater was.”
Jeremy laughed. “Yeah, I can’t imagine. Although, See the Light makes me feel naked in a different way. Like I’m putting all my high school shame onstage every night.”
Gus sipped his latte and looked at Jeremy over the top of the cup. “You have a hard time in high school?”
“It could have been worse. I came out, and not a single person was surprised.” Jeremy smiled to himself. “I was tall and skinny and awkward, but I spent all of my time with the other theater kids, or with my best friend, Max, who is also gay. So I wasn’t too much of an outcast.” But, god, there was Max, in his head again. He’d almost forgotten all about what was happening for three whole minutes.
“I spent all my time with the theater kids, too. Starred in Oklahoma! and Into the Woods just like every other theater kid did. Went to Purchase, majored in acting.”
“NYU,” Jeremy said.
“Yeah, they rejected me. I mean, it doesn’t even matter, because nobody cares where you went to school as long as you can act and sing and dance and everything. I’m not as strong a singer as you are, so I’m not starring in my own show on Broadway yet, but someday!”
Jeremy shook his head. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Complimenting me. You don’t have to. We’re hanging out now, we’re friends.”
Gus smirked. “Well, you are supertalented. And I feel like you need to know that. And also smoking hot.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Seriously. You don’t need to lay it on so think.”
“You told me that your complicated thing is over. I had kind of been wondering if it just existed because you weren’t sure if you liked me yet.”
“No, it’s real. Just...he doesn’t want me.” Saying that aloud made Jeremy’s spirits plummet, but he schooled his face to not give that away. But it sure felt like Max didn’t want Jeremy, the same way Juilliard hadn’t—the way NYU hadn’t wanted Gus—and the same way dozens of casting agents hadn’t. Or, it wasn’t quite like that, because though Jeremy loathed being the second choice and not the best in the room, Max’s rejection hurt a hell of a lot more. A casting director choosing another actor over Jeremy was something Jeremy could cope with, it was the nature of the industry. If Max ever chose someone else, Jeremy wasn’t sure his heart could take it. “He doesn’t want me,” Jeremy repeated. “Not like you apparently do.”
“I really do. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”
“No, it’s...it’s nice to hear.” And it really was. Gus was too pushy, in a way that was a bit of a turn off, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but be flattered that this man wanted him when Max didn’t. That Jeremy was Gus’s first choice, that Gus thought Jeremy was the best. Gus was cute and he clearly loved theater, and under any circumstances, that might be enough to start something.
Gus leaned a little closer. “I keep telling you how great you are because I need you to know you’re special.”
“Why?”
Gus shrugged. “Someone should tell you.”
Jeremy looked into Gus’s eyes, which were hazel and sparkled a little in the inadequate hotel lighting. That dusting of freckles across his face was so perfect, and his lips looked soft and kissable, and his red hair was tousled on top of his head. He really was very cute. He was the kind of guy Jeremy might have gone for...
But Max.
Gus leaned forward. “You’re tempted. I can tell you are. I’d give my right kidney to be with you, you have to know that. It could be really good between us.”
Gus was a breath away, close enough to kiss, and Jeremy thought about leaning forward and closing the distance between them.
But Gus was not who he wanted. Max was, and Jeremy still wanted to win him back.
Gus started to lean forward, so Jeremy leaned back. Then he stood.
“I’m sorry. I’m mopey about this situation at home, but I’m not ready to give up on it yet. And he’s who I want, if I can talk him into having me, so I just wouldn’t feel right if you and I...” Jeremy gestured.
Gus let out a breath. “Yeah. I understand. I was just hoping, I guess. When you told me your thing at home was over, it felt like you opened the door.”
“I did, I guess. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on. Or maybe I did, but I can’t go through with it. I would like to hang out as friends, but anything more than that can’t happen. I hope you understand.”
Gus stood as well. “Yeah. Disappointed, but if what’s going on with you has you this tangled up with this other guy, I can’t compete with that.”
Jeremy grabbed his bag and his tea. “I’d better go get some sleep. But no hard feelings, okay?”
“No. We can be friends, Jeremy Reynolds. I’d like that.”
Jeremy nodded and slipped out of the room.