Nicky had directed two new plays since arriving in London. Both received critical acclaim. He knew he’d finally found his calling and was being treated like a star once more. He had grown to love London and felt safe there. For the first time in his private life he wasn’t living a lie.
His newest play became a box-office hit. He hadn’t expected it. In fact, he had anticipated a limited audience, because the subject matter was so controversial. It was visually a hard play to watch: life in a men’s prison portrayed in a very graphic way. For the first time onstage, his play exposed the homosexual rapes that constantly occur in prisons everywhere. He cowrote the play with a young man who had personally lived through that hell.
Fletcher and Nicky had been together from the moment they’d first met. It surprised them both when their relationship blossomed into something serious. For once, timing in life had worked its magic.
Fletcher was an actor, and much to Nicky’s delight, he turned out to be a very good actor. He had starred in Nicky’s first play to rave reviews. In the new play, it was his nude rape scene in the prison that caused a sensation. He’d been interviewed all over the tube, on radio talk shows, in newspapers and magazine articles, and he constantly tried to explain his nudity onstage.
“It’s not for shock value; it’s reality. I know how hard it might be for audiences to watch, but I hope doing this will enlighten the public on this subject and help the men who face these ordeals every day.”
Fletcher Ingram became a star. It was SRO at the box office. Nicky’s most recent surprise had come from a producer in New York who offered to bring the production to the States as an off-Broadway show. “Just for openers,” he’d insisted. He thought there was a good chance it could end up on Broadway.
“Look at Hair, Man Of La Mancha, or Oh! Calcutta! They made the move.”
Another plus from the same producer was the news that some people on the coast also showed interest in the property. That meant there was even a chance for a movie deal.
Nicky loved his life in London but couldn’t deny he found the idea of going to New York with a hit—and maybe even the coast—very tempting. The fly in the ointment was having to leave his new haven. Fletcher was everything to him: a lover, a confidante, someone who loved him and cared for him. They weren’t competitive. They worked for each other. Nicky was secure enough to be able to be proud of Fletcher. And it was mutual. Money was just beginning to come in for them both. Not the kind of money Nicky had made in movies, but in London with his rich friends money had never been a problem.
The New York production would definitely mean more money, and of course the prestige would be priceless. He talked it over with Maxie, who was always an excellent sounding board, usually giving honest, down-to-earth advice. As Nicky heard himself going over the details with Maxie, New York appealed to him more and more. The extra challenge of having a success there gave him the kind of rush he hadn’t felt for a long time. He had to do it! His decision was made. Fletcher agreed with him 100 percent. Nicky went ahead and signed with the producer in New York.
When the subject of casting the lead for the New York production came up, Nicky was bombarded with headshots from New York. It was then that they realized for the first time that Fletcher couldn’t be in the off-Broadway production. They had taken it for granted that he would be, but he was tied up with a run-of-the-show contract in London, and it looked like he had a long run ahead of him. Getting Fletcher out of his contract was nigh on impossible. The legal problems hadn’t occurred to either of them and after anger and tears and getting nowhere with lawyers, they both decided it was too great an opportunity for Nicky to pass up. Fletcher did manage to go to New York with him initially, but he could only stay for two days.
The business side of show business had reared its ugly head once more.