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CHAPTER FIVE

1992

“Goddamnit!” I paced around my bedroom after hanging up on Agatha. “Fuck!”

That role should have been mine. For the first time in my life, I had real connections going into an audition. The same executive producer I had worked with on High Life was involved in this new production, and he claimed the role was as good as mine.

What the hell happened?

I slumped onto my bed. This week, I officially went broke, making me regret not listening to Agatha about getting a temporary second job. I was now willing to clean toilets to pay rent.

My phone rang, and I wasn’t surprised to hear Eliot’s voice as he said, “I’m sorry.”

“Good news travels fast.”

“It should have been you.”

“Story of my life. Do you know why I didn’t get it?”

“The director knew someone from previous productions, and he preferred to work with him.”

Figures. Even when I had connections, there had to be someone with better ones.

“I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.” I rubbed my itching eyes, too upset to care how pathetic I sounded. A part of me was angry at Eliot, and angry at myself for being angry at him. But if he hadn’t believed in me full-heartedly, he would have seen the logic in me finding a second job, though one must have a first job to get a second.

“Let’s meet,” he said.

I’d hoped he’d say that. In the last two months, he had become my rock. We saw each other at least twice a week and constantly spoke on the phone. What happened in the strip club hadn’t happened again, and we hadn’t talked about it after that night.

“Where do you want to meet?” I asked.

“You will come to my house for dinner. We have something to discuss, and if all goes well, you’ll spend the night here.”

It took me a few moments to digest his words. I’d never been invited to his house. “Are you serious?”

“Do you know me as a jester, Jonah Carter?”

I smiled like I hadn’t been fighting tears a minute ago. “No, sir.”

“Then you have your answer. Come hungry, please. I’ll send a taxi to get you.”

“I have my car.”

“Save some money on gas. Be ready at seven, okay?”

“Okay. Should I bring anything?”

“Just your charming self and a teddy bear if you sleep with one.”

“Oh, please. I gave up on Captain Bear weeks ago. See you soon.”

*

I got out of the taxi and stared at the huge house in front of me. I’d never been to Echo Park before, and Eliot’s house was one of the more impressive ones on the street with its Victorian style, tall windows, and dark roof tiles.

I pressed the button next to the gate. He buzzed me inside and opened the front door as I approached.

“You look normal!” I called.

He arched an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“I’ve never seen you in regular clothes before.” He wore a white shirt and gray sweatpants, his jet-black hair still damp from a recent shower.

“Did you think I wear fancy suits in my own home?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He hugged me, and I stole a sniff of his hair, which smelled like jasmine. He led me inside, and I whistled in appreciation. Eliot’s love of art was on full display, from the dramatic paintings to the bold sculptures. I made a calculated guess that every one of those items could cover my rent.

“Your house is insane!” I followed him into the kitchen, which was as big as my apartment and cleaner.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. You can put your bag over there. Get yourself comfortable.”

I dropped my bag and shoes in the hallway. “Can I look around later? I want to see everything.”

“You can, just please refrain from going through my underwear drawer.”

“Not much point in me looking around then, is there? What smells so good?”

“We’re going full Italian tonight.” Eliot put a bottle of wine on the tall kitchen table. “We’ll eat in the garden, next to the pool.”

Of course there was a pool. “How can I help?”

“You can start by enjoying a nice glass of wine. You’ve earned it.” He handed me a glass and went to check on the food on the stove.

“I don’t think I’ve earned anything.” But I still fixed myself a glass. I’d grown accustomed to quality wine over the last couple of months and could even distinguish between different types, which pleased Eliot.

“Tonight is about the future, Jonah, not past setbacks.”

I appreciated his use of “setbacks” instead of “failures.”

“How’s your mood?” he asked.

“Dunno.”

“ Don’t know. There are two words in there.”

I chuckled. I sometimes used improper English just to have him correct me. “I’m trying not to think too hard about my crappy situation, but it turns out I’m also crappy at that.”

He crossed his arms, his blue eyes holding my gaze. “It’s understandable to mourn a lost role.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been mourning a lot in the past six months.”

He came closer and put his hands on my shoulders. “How can I help?”

He could have started by kissing me, which would have made everything better. But I’d never do anything to jeopardize our friendship, even though he had become the sole subject of my wet dreams. I didn’t even know if he was into guys; he was vague about that.

“You’re helping plenty,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re young and ambitious. Just open your mind to different possibilities, and who knows what might happen?” A knowing smile danced on his lips.

My curiosity piqued. “Are you talking about something in particular?”

He walked back to the stove. “You’ll need to wait a bit longer to know more.”

“Come on, you’ve got to tell me! What is it? Can you get me an audition?”

“I can get you dinner if you let me work.”

“I’ll tickle you until you tell me.”

“That would be unfortunate. Take those plates and start setting up the table in the back garden.”

“Oh, fine.”

Standing out back, I could picture fancy dinner parties being thrown in Eliot’s beautiful garden. Thanks to the high gate and dense line of trees, it was easy to feel fully secluded. The swimming pool was large enough for a proper swim, the water lucid and inviting. I imagined Eliot sitting out here in the mornings, drinking coffee while reading the newspaper.

I arranged the plates and silverware on the garden table before Eliot stepped out with a bowl of pasta and a plate of lasagna. He then went to bring garlic bread, a green salad, and a bottle of wine.

“You’ve made so much food,” I said as we sat at the table. I loved the rich smell of tomatoes and cheese.

“You should eat more.”

“Oh, it won’t matter. I’m naturally skinny; it’s gross.”

Eliot rolled his eyes. “Many adjectives can describe you, Jonah, yet ‘ gross’ isn’t one of them. Now, let’s fill our bellies.”

Everything tasted heavenly, and not just because Eliot had made this meal especially for me. I couldn’t help but moan in pleasure.

“I think you might be the first man to climax from pasta,” Eliot said.

I raised my napkin. “Good thing I have this.”

He laughed and drank more wine. I loved how he held the glass; the way his long fingers elegantly wrapped around it. It felt as if he’d been born with class, though he’d once mentioned growing up with hillbillies. The few times I’d tried to ask about his childhood hadn’t yielded results, so I stopped asking.

I managed to keep my mouth shut about the “possibilities” he’d mentioned earlier, but it wasn’t easy. I made a rule never to ask for his help with my career—not because I was against pulling strings, but because it might come across as taking advantage of him.

Unable to take another bite, I leaned back and rubbed my belly. “That was bellissimo!”

Eliot nodded. “Thank you. I love cooking, and you are a passionate eater.”

“I’m always hungry. Maybe I’m still growing—I wouldn’t mind.” At five-eight, I was shorter than the typical Hollywood actor, and I hated that. Every little thing could make a casting director choose someone else over you, including an extra inch.

“Do you sometimes throw parties here?” I asked.

“I used to, but they were too shallow to keep my interest. I prefer to keep my social interactions more meaningful these days.”

“Am I a meaningful interaction?” I felt silly once the words left my mouth. It was my insecurity at play, my doubts about what he got out of our friendship, and my fear he’d move on to someone more exciting and successful.

“You, Jonah, are the most meaningful interaction I have.” His smile was genuine, but I caught a trace of sadness in his eyes. I didn’t want to ruin his compliment, so I didn’t pry.

By now, my patience had run its course. “So…” I tapped my fingers on the table.

Eliot nodded and put the wine glass on the table. “There’s a role I’d like you to try out for.”

I straightened, my heart beating faster. “What’s the role?”

“It’s a secret. I can’t give you any more information.”

That might have been a good sign. Big roles were sometimes kept a secret because of the press.

“When can I audition? Do you have lines for me to rehearse?”

“This won’t be a regular audition. You’ll just have to make a good impression.”

“Okay, I can do that. But when?”

“Ever so eager.”

“Oh, you have to tell me! I will tickle you.”

“The director will come here tomorrow morning, which is why I wanted you to spend the night. Once he’s here, all you’ll need to do is be your charming self and follow my lead.”

“Did you tell him nice things about me?”

“I did.”

“Like what?”

“That you ask too many questions.”

Hint taken. “What’s his name?”

“Thomas, but you will refer to him as The Director.”

“A bit pompous.”

“Perhaps, but that’s the way it is.” He clapped his hands. “No more talking about this until tomorrow. Our dessert will be popcorn while we sit and watch A League of Their Own .”

I leaned forward. “Don’t tell me you’ve got it on tape. It shouldn’t be out for another month!”

He winked. “I know a guy.”

I couldn’t stop smiling. I adored that movie and had watched it four times in the cinema. Geena Davis was epic in that role, and even Madonna was decent.

I was about to help clear the table when Eliot asked, “Would you do me a favor?”

I knew what he meant without needing him to say it. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Are you familiar with Death of a Salesman ?”

“Are you kidding? I love Arthur Miller!”

His smile was warm and full of appreciation. I loved being able to impress him.

“It’s got one of my all-time favorite lines,” I said.

“Do tell.”

I stood up and approached him, his blue eyes following me. “Why am I trying to become what I don’t want to be… when all I want is out there, waiting for me the minute I say I know who I am?”

He sighed and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Well, I know more lines.”

“I’m sure, but that was all I needed. Now, help me clean up so we can go watch your B-movie.”

I pretended to be shot in the chest. “The disrespect! You wound me.”

Once we took the dishes to the kitchen, I went to change into my sleeping clothes. Sitting shoulder to shoulder with Eliot on his huge couch, a bowl of popcorn in my lap, things seemed much brighter than they had earlier. I was dying to ask more questions about the audition, but I assured myself that Eliot knew what he was doing.

Luckily, the movie was so good that I was able to stay focused despite being so close to Eliot. Once it finished, he said it was time for bed. “Take the second door to the right. I’ll be right there to tuck you in.”

I brushed my teeth in the small bathroom next to the guest room, then went to lie on the great mattress. A nice breeze blew in through the open window, much better than my ceiling fan.

“Already asleep?”

I opened my eyes to see Eliot leaning on the doorframe. He was shirtless, and I was a deer in the headlights. When I opened my mouth, words failed me. He was truly a sight with his pale and smooth skin, his chest well-defined like a swimmer’s. It felt wrong for him to walk around with clothes when such beauty hid underneath.

He came closer and dimmed the light, but I could still see him perfectly. He came to sit on the bed, and I tried my hardest not to stare at his nipples.

“Something specific you want for breakfast?” he asked, his voice a touch deeper than usual.

“Hmm, I’d like a lobster, please.”

“A lobster?”

“And some pizza, but hold the olives.”

“That’s reasonable. And for dessert?”

“You.” I froze. My careless mouth had gone rogue.

“Me?”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

He leaned a little closer. “You need to focus on being incredible tomorrow, Jonah.”

“I will.” My cheeks were on fire, my heart drumming.

“And you will follow my lead and listen to my directions?”

I nodded, noticing that he was leaning even closer, enough for me to smell his faint aftershave.

“Are you ready to go to sleep?”

“I…yes.” Although I was bound to lay awake for hours, kicking myself for being so careless.

“Good. Oh, and about tomorrow’s breakfast...”

“I really shouldn’t have said anything. I—”

He kissed me. It took my brain a few seconds to catch on, but once it did, a wave of happiness washed over me, and I might as well have been floating. I kissed him back, sliding my tongue between his parted lips.

When I tried to sit, he held me down. “Easy, Casanova.”

“Too late. You’ve unleashed the tiger.”

He laughed. “Did I now?”

“Yes. I… I really wanted this.” Not that I knew exactly what this meant.

“I’m aware you did. As you’ve already learned, I know how to read you, Jonah Carter.”

I waggled my eyebrows. “Can you read me now?”

He stroked my cheek as another flash of sadness crossed his eyes. “This is not the time to take this further.”

“When then?”

“After you score that role tomorrow.”

“I’m gonna score it so bad.”

“I know you will.”

“Hmm, am I a good kisser? I haven’t kissed many people.”

He brushed my lips with his thumb. “You’re a wonderful kisser.”

“Good, then kiss me some more.”

He did, but only for a magical minute. When he stopped and stood up, I knew it was for the best, but I still ached for more.

“Sleep tight, Jonah. Try to clear your head.”

I would need to clear my erection first. “I’ll do my best. Good night.”

He turned off the light and left me floating in the sky.

*

I awoke to the sweet scent of pancakes. With memories of last night rushing through my head, I never jumped out of bed so fast in my life. I hurried to brush my teeth in the bathroom, then hopped into the shower, taking advantage of the expensive shampoos.

Once done and dry, I returned to yesterday’s clothes. Before leaving the room, I told myself to play it cool and tread carefully on this uncharted territory.

When I entered the kitchen, Eliot stood with his back to me, facing the stove. He wore a blue polo shirt and jeans that complemented his ass—not that it took much effort. I had dozens of witty greeting lines circling in my head, but I couldn’t decide which one to pick.

“As fascinating as my back surely is, you should still wish me good morning.”

I cleared my throat. “Sorry. Good morning.”

He turned around with a wooden spoon. “How did you sleep?”

“Great. You?”

“Like a baby. Sit.”

I did, and he placed a stack of pancakes on my plate, then poured me some orange juice. “Dig in.”

“Thanks. Is Thomas still coming?”

“Who?”

“Sorry, The Director.”

“Yes, he’ll be here soon.”

I sliced through the creamy pancakes. “Should I find something else to wear? I usually dress nicer for auditions.”

“Your personality will land you this role, not your shirt.”

“Okay.” I ate while Eliot leaned over the tall table, browsing the morning paper. “Anything interesting?” I asked.

“Bill Clinton has announced his staff members. Seems like fine people all around.” His features darkened. “How unfortunate.”

“What’s wrong?”

“AIDS is on the rise in LA again.” He met my eyes. “I hope you’re always using protection.”

“What? I…”

“Please don’t tell me you’re risking your life for—”

“I’m not having unprotected sex!” I was having the safest sex of all—none.

Eliot nodded. “I’ve seen too many good people perish because of that horrible disease. How’s your food?”

“Great.”

“Then why don’t you look happy?”

“Huh? I’m happy.”

He closed the newspaper and slid closer. “Are you really?”

I put down my fork. “It’s just… I’m nervous about meeting that guy.”

He cocked his head. “And here I thought it might be related to our kiss.”

Count on Eliot not to beat around the bush. “Well, maybe. I’m quite confused, to be honest.”

“Why are you confused?”

“Because I don’t know how to act now. What can I do and say?”

“You’re a grown man. Say and do what you want.”

“You know it’s not so simple.”

He nodded. “I can see why you might feel confused. Maybe I was out of line last night.”

I raised my fork. “If you’re taking it back, I’m attacking.”

He lowered my hand, his warm fingers resting on mine. “I’m not taking anything back. I just wish for you to focus on the audition, not on me.”

“I am focusing on the audition.” Though that wasn’t the whole truth.

He patted my hand. “Good. Focus on making a killer impression, and not on me fucking you senseless later.”

I gawked at him, then the doorbell rang.

Eliot glanced at his watch. “Someone’s early.” He gave me a nervous smile and hurried to open the door.

*

I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but I could tell when someone didn’t like me, and The Director didn’t like me. For the last thirty minutes, he had been talking directly to Eliot while we sat in the garden around the table. Eliot had tried, unsuccessfully, to involve me in their conversation, but it wasn’t like they spoke about anything interesting—just of people they knew and a bit of politics. What happened to talking about movies? I’d never met a director who didn’t talk about movies at every opportunity.

Thomas—though I remembered not to use his name—didn’t even look like a director. He came across as ex-military with his cold expression and frigid posture. His face was handsome, I suppose, with his high cheekbones. His short, graying hair suited him well, and his dark eyes seemed to blink once every five minutes. He wore plain, all-black clothes.

The only times he seemed less robotic were when his eyes lingered on Eliot. There was no denying the fondness there, and it clearly went both ways, for reasons I couldn’t figure out. I had met some of Eliot’s friends in the past couple of months, and they were usually more outspoken and lively.

As time crawled by, I drank more wine than I should have, but it wasn’t like I had anything better to do. The Director didn’t ask me anything, making it the weirdest audition in history. Maybe Eliot had gotten confused about this alleged role and was now too embarrassed to tell me.

With the alcohol level in my blood steadily climbing, my tongue loosened, and I ended up asking, “Were you in the military?”

The Director turned to look at me. “Why do you ask?”

“Because of how you sit and talk.” My face grew warm under his stoic gaze.

He shook his head. “I came from a strict upbringing, but it wasn’t military.”

“Oh. I came from a Christian upbringing—very strict as well.” I cleared my throat, seizing the opportunity. “So, Eliot told me you’re working on a new production.”

“Did he now?” He glanced at Eliot, who didn’t seem pleased. “What did he tell you about it?”

I scratched the back of my head, worried I should have kept my mouth shut. “Not much, just that it’s something different, and that you are very talented.”

“Going for flattery? How childish.”

My face grew even warmer.

“Jonah tends to get excited about things he’s passionate about,” Eliot said with a stiff smile.

“I see.” The Director held my gaze. “And what are you passionate about?”

I straightened, wishing I’d drank one less glass of wine. “Acting, sir.”

“What about acting? The money?”

“No, not at all.”

“You’d agree to work for free, then?”

“Well…”

“Do you think you have what it takes to make it?”

“I…yes? I mean, yes , for sure. I have what it takes.”

He shook his head at Eliot. “Too young. Too… simple.”

“He is not simple, and you are being rude to my friend.”

I’d never seen Eliot angry before, and though he remained composed, his eyes spoke volumes.

“I apologize,” The Director told me, then immediately resumed his conversation with Eliot about the economy, once more leaving me out like one of the plants.

I rubbed my face, debating whether to leave. This was undoubtedly a waste of time, but I didn’t want to be rude to Eliot, not to mention his promise of sex afterward. I wasn’t going to skip on that, shitty director or not.

I drank more wine, ignoring the dull conversation and watching the sun’s glimmer on the water in the pool.

“Jonah,” Eliot said at one point, “come help me bring refreshments.”

It was a cheap decoy, but I gladly followed him into the kitchen, where I said, “He hates me.”

“He doesn’t. He’s just concerned that you might be too…” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Say it. What is he concerned about? That I’m too simple in the head?”

“You and I both know how bright you are. You did nothing wrong—it’s me who should have handled it differently. He… he can be very stubborn, even when I have his best interests at heart.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe I should leave. He doesn’t want me here.”

“You are not going anywhere.” He put his hands on my shoulders, his gaze intense. “I know how strong you are, how good you two can be to each other.”

What?

“I need you to trust me,” he said, almost pleading. “Just a bit longer.”

“Why? I don’t even want to work with him.”

Eliot squeezed my shoulders. “You’ve promised to follow my lead. Was that a lie?”

I took a breath to calm myself down. That so-called director wasn’t worth fighting with Eliot.

“Fine,” I said. “It’s pointless, but whatever.”

“Thank you. Let me make you a drink.”

I shook my head. “I’ve had too many.”

“One more. Trust me.”

“If I puke, I ain’t cleaning.”

“Duly noted.” He kissed my lips and went to make me a drink, this time pouring from a bottle that wasn’t wine, but I didn’t care enough to ask what it was; I just wanted to get this over with .

“Here you go.” He placed a glass with a colorless drink in front of me. “You don’t have to drink it all.”

I raised the glass and took a sip, pleasantly surprised by the sweet flavor. “It’s nice.”

“Good.”

“I don’t know why you two are even friends,” I said before I could stop myself. “You’re much nicer.”

“That's true, but since he didn’t expect to meet you today, I did put him on the spot, which was unfair.”

“You didn’t tell him about the audition?” That made me even more confused, just when I thought I’d reached the end of my confusion.

He looked away. “It seems I overestimated my influence over him, but I’m not ready to give up. Come, let’s head back.”

I took two steps before feeling a mighty wave of dizziness. My heart also seemed to beat faster, growing louder in my ears.

“Something… something’s wrong.” My voice echoed in my head.

From behind, Eliot wrapped his arm around my chest. “Nothing’s wrong. Take deep breaths and walk slowly. It will pass soon.”

Not feeling like I had much choice, I continued walking. The sun hit me hard when I stepped outside, as if someone had cranked up the brightness. Eliot helped me back into my seat, where the shade from the house made it possible to reopen my eyes. Since I could now see The Director in front of me, I missed the blinding sun.

“Do you ever smile?” I asked.

“It does take a lot.” A trace of amusement touched the corner of his lips, or it might have been a stroke.

Eliot rested his hand on my shoulder. “Jonah is much more special than you think.”

“I doubt it. Eliot, I’m sorry, but whatever you’re trying to do—”

“You know what I’m trying to do.”

“Then come back.” It was the first time he raised his voice, showing any sort of emotion.

“I can never do that. Can you really ask me that?”

The Director looked away, his jaw tight. “You’re right. I’m happy you got out, but don’t expect this… child to be your replacement.” He glared at me as if I’d offended him by simply existing. “He’s a pale shadow of you.”

I would have been offended if being a pale shadow of Eliot wasn’t a lot.

“You’ve never been more wrong,” Eliot said, “but since I’ve missed you, we should stop arguing and talk about other things. For now.”

They went on to talk about an art exhibit Eliot had seen recently, while my brain felt like a spinning washing machine. I didn’t understand their conversion about me replacing Eliot, but I didn’t care enough to try deciphering it. I just waited for this man to skedaddle out of here and leave me alone with Eliot.

The mention of the name Rodin during their conversation caught my attention, piercing through the fog clouding my mind. “Rodin’s overrated,” I blurted.

The Director frowned at me. “You know of Auguste Rodin?”

“Yeah, but I don’t like him. Donatello did similar things, only better. Botero too, but his art was more political.” I was proud of myself for speaking despite my floaty brain. I knew my way around art thanks to Nanna Ruth; she used to take me to museums and buy me art books. We need to put some art in your head instead of those damn scriptures, young man.

“You know a thing or two about art,” The Director said, for once not looking at me like an annoying fly.

“Because of Nanna Ruth,” I said. “I also studied a bit of sculpting when I was younger. My dad said it was for queers.”

“What were your favorite materials?”

“Hmm, metal and copper. Sometimes clay.” I raised my hands. “I loved fingering the clay.”

The Director let out a choked laugh, which he quickly masked with a cough.

Eliot moved his chair closer to me. “You never told me those things.”

I shrugged. “I’m full of surprises.”

“Eliot,” The Director said with a sigh, “I won’t take it easy on him. He’ll be treated like the rest.”

The rest?

“I know,” Eliot said. “Just promise to give him a chance.”

“I’ll do my best. Let’s proceed, then. And damn you.”

I was about to make it clear I didn’t want any part in this man’s productions, but before I could speak, Eliot told me, “Let me help you up.”

He led me into the house and onto the couch we sat on yesterday to watch A League of Their Own. He sat next to me, and I leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling deeply tired. I couldn’t have sex with him in this state, but I was sure he’d wait until I woke up.

“You’re beautiful,” Eliot whispered, “and you are strong, so very strong.”

“Then why do you sound sad?”

He didn’t answer.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, I cracked open my eyes and tried to blink away the blurriness. The Director watched me from a chair, with two strange men standing behind him.

“Do you see them too?” I whispered to Eliot.

“I do.” He squeezed my hand.

“Will he fight?” The one who asked that was chubby, his beard messy, and his eyes small and unkind.

“He won’t fight,” Eliot said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Over with?

The bearded man crouched in front of me, smelling of cigarettes. I watched him numbly as he held my hand without asking for permission.

“I don’t like you,” I said.

He snickered. “Oh yeah? Don’t worry; we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other better. I’m a peach.”

I had no intention of getting to know him better, and I was about to let him know that when a sharp pain jolted me. I hissed and looked down at the syringe in my arm. I gawked, too stunned to react. When he pulled the syringe out, a drop of blood slid down my skin.

“Breathe,” Eliot said, his voice far away.

“He… he…”

“Just breathe, Jonah. You are strong; I know you are.”

With the world slipping into darkness, I didn’t feel strong at all.