16. “If you are an adolescent, here is the trick to being neither quite a nerd nor quite a jock be no one. It is easier than you think.” ― David Foster Wallace
Chapter 16
“If you are an adolescent, here is the trick to being neither quite a nerd nor quite a jock; be no one. It is easier than you think.” ― David Foster Wallace
Austin
“ H ope I didn’t get you in too much trouble with the missus,” Kevin smiled from behind the cocktail in his hand.
“Not too much, I hope,” I glared at Kyle, who at least had the good grace to look slightly guilty. “Dylan knows that what happened between us was a total fluke and that I have no interest you like that in any way.”
“Ouch.” I could see I had dented his pride a little, and I didn’t like to be the person that upset anyone.
“I mean don’t get me wrong, you are objectively good-looking,” I gestured towards him, which earned me a small grin, “but I’m in love with my boyfriend. Also, I now only see Kyle when I look at you so the idea of hooking up with you makes me feel physically sick and my cock shrivel up to the size of a raisin.”
“Erm ouch?” Kevin laughed, his hand pressed over his heart.
“Just being honest with you buddy.” I leaned over and slapped the side of his arm.
“I don’t know whether or not I should be a bit offended.” Kyle laughed.
“You’re a big boy.” I shrugged. “You’ll get over it.”
Kevin opened the door back into the three-story brownstone house and gestured over his shoulder. “Well, I am going to get my emotionally-bruised ass back into this party. There is a tall muscle-bound Greek man in the kitchen that I want to give a private tour to.”
“Still giving those tours huh?” I chuckled.
“Well why fix what’s not broken,” he called over his shoulder as he moved back through the party.
Kyle handed me a beer and took a seat next to me on the stoop. We sat there for a few moments, just people watching. An older couple walked down towards the bodega down the street, the wife repeating a five-item shopping list over and over until the husband snapped that he wasn’t an idiot. A young guy on his phone paced back and forth across the street, his eyes darting around, and a young couple, I thought to be in their early twenties, walked hand-in-hand down the street. One of the girls leaned over and pressed a long kiss against the cheek of her girlfriend, who blushed for a moment before playfully pushing her arm.
“How could you have ever left this,” Kyle chuffed, pointing his bottle towards the street.
“What, partying on a weeknight with the guys calling each other bruh every five minutes inside?” I pointed behind me.
“No, I mean New York.” He laughed. “Don’t you miss the life, the hustle and bustle and all this opportunity everywhere you look?”
I did miss it. I missed being able to wake up in the middle of the night and go for a walk and find that life hadn’t stood still. When they said that New York was The City That Never Sleeps, it was no joke. I’d once got up at 2am after not being able to sleep, and caught the train to grab coffee and then on to get a sandwich at this famous New York deli. I’d stumbled coming out of the store, and dropped my phone down a sewer grate. I’d then found a payphone and called the customer service line, who had told me I could go pick up a new phone straight away at their twenty-four-hour outlet on Fifth Avenue.
The endless retail opportunities were not the only reason I missed the city. Although I did love Yonkers and my life with Dylan, I did miss having my friends on the doorstep. I’d always been the same since I was a kid. Some people were happy with their own company and could spend hours alone at a time. I, on the other hand, needed people around me, needed to feel connected and the idea of being without my friends was just unthinkable.
“I miss it a lot.” I nodded. “But I love being with Dylan more.”
“Yeah, I get that.” He smiled. “ Bruh .”
“I know you do.”
“You know you could have gotten the lead today though, don’t you?” I looked over to see his gaze locked on his shoes on the step below.
“Kyle…”
“I’m just pointing out what you already know but are afraid to admit to yourself, or to Dylan.”
Earlier in the day I’d walked off stage after my final audition of the day. The two other actresses who were leads in the show with me on stage had been given their roles a few weeks earlier. The casting director had had some difficulty finding a male lead that had the right chemistry with both of the actresses, since part of the role called for intimate scenes with both of them. Our chemistry reads had gone great, and both girls had told me that they were rooting for me and that I was a shoo-in. As I headed for the back exit, a hand had landed on my shoulder. It had been the casting director ushering me towards the director’s office at the back of the building.
The office had been as you might have imagined for a theatre production. The walls had been decorated with posters and reviews from the previous shows to grace the stage, and the room had been lined with racks of clothes, likely from the costumer’s desperate space grab for the mountains of garments likely needed on a week-by-week basis. In the center of the room had been a small pine desk with a laptop perched in the center, a single green glass-covered desk lamp the only source of illumination in the room. I’d taken the single seat in the front While the casting lady took her place next to the director on the other side.
“So, Austin, how do you think today went?” Mitchell Grant was a legendary stage director on the New York circuit. He had been prolific Off-Broadway in the late 70’s and had made the move to the main stages in the late noughties. The years showed on his face, the lines around his eyes, the greying hair at his temples and the slightly roundness of his face and belly. His steely grey eyes, which seemed to peer directly into your soul, had not diminished with age.
“It went well, I think? Right?” I’d looked quickly towards Marge, the casting director. “It went well?”
Marge had chuckled, shrugging her shoulders and nodding her head towards Mitchell. “I think we want to know your take.”
“It went well,” I’d said with more certainty in my voice.
“Well, I’m glad you think it went well.” Mitchell had plucked a pen from his desk and began to scribble something on a pad of paper in front of him. “We did too.”
“That’s good!” Thank the lord.
“Yes, very good.” He’d nodded, looking up from his scribbling briefly. “Now we want to be moving quite quickly here as the time we have for rehearsals, promotion and production is limited, so if you’re going to come on board then we need to know that you’re all in.”
“I’m totally in!” I’d almost shouted across the table.
“Of course, we will speak to your agent about the legal stuff and contracts, but we just want to make sure that you want to be part of this team. We expect this production to gain some traction within the media, and although you are relatively unknown, we think that this might catapult you directly into the spotlight. Is that something you’re ready for?”
Part of me had wanted to again scream yes in his face, but I’d taken a moment to pause and really think what this would mean for me, and more importantly, what it would mean for me and Dylan. This was the type of decision that would impact the both of us. I was very aware that as people were thrust in front of the cameras, those nearest and dearest to them became fodder for journalists and entertainment news. I was definitely getting ahead of myself, but it paid to be prepared.
Jumping in feet first, I’d nodded. “Yeah I’m ready.”
“That’s great.” Marge had clapped her hands together and stood from the desk. “I’ll go start making some calls.”
“Yeah me too,” I’d laughed. “My boyfriend’s gonna be so happy.”
I’d watched as her face fell before she slumped back into her seat. “You’re in a relationship?”
“Yeah.” I’d smiled warily. “For a few years now. Don’t worry though, he is getting into the business himself. He knows what to expect.”
They’d exchanged a look behind the desk before plastering wide smiles on their faces. “Um Austin…” Marge had begun. The hollow in my stomach had started to deepen as the looks passing between them spoke volumes. Something about me or my relationship was going to put a stop to whatever was about to happen here for me. “Listen, as we said, we think this production is going to become very popular.”
“Yeah, I think that’s great.”
“So we want to be really clear about what it is we want from our leading man.” She’d leaned across to whisper something into Mitchell’s ear. He’d looked down at the notes on front of him before giving a quick nod. Standing quickly, I’d watched as he’d made a quick exit from the room.
“Is everything okay?” I’d gestured towards the door.
“Oh of course.” Marge’s smile had been similar to that of a hunting shark. “As I was saying I really want to be clear what we are looking for. I can be real with you, can’t I, Austin?”
“Sure?”
“Good, I thought so.” Plucking the pencil from the desk in front of her, she’d begun to doodle absentmindedly on the paper left by Mitchell, “With this type of show, it’s not just about the character we play on stage, but also the character we play off stage as well.”
“Off stage?”
“Of course, when we have our gorgeous male lead up on that stage, stripped naked and writhing around with our leading ladies, we want the men and women who come to see our show to imagine that it’s them up there with you. Acting the part on the page is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to promoting a show. We want our main cast to be sexy, fresh, alluring as hell and most importantly, available.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.” My stomach had dropped as if I’d taken a plunge in a rollercoaster.
“Sure you do.” Her smile had grown wider. “Now I’m not saying that we want you to be sleeping with your audience by any means, but we do want our audience to have the illusion and fantasy of possibility. Also, as I said, it’s not just about the show, it’s the show that starts after.”
“After?”
“Austin, shows like this are expensive to produce and though we have no shortage of funds available to us in the immediate future, we are always on the lookout for new investors and producers to come on board to get this run and other future runs made. It’s the job of our leading actors to go to after show parties, corporate functions, sit downs with journalists and general schmoozing, y’know.”
“Are you telling me that I can’t do this show and stay with my boyfriend?” I hadn’t completely believed that was what she was saying, although it very much sounded that way.
“Oh, of course not!” Madge had cried, her hand flying to her chest. “Of course we would never get involved with the private lives of our actors. That’s just not what we are about sweetie.”
I’d breathed out a sigh of relief. “Sorry, I just had to check is all.”
“Oh absolutely, darling.” Shuffling the papers on the desk in front of her she’d let out a loud chest-clearing cough. “So, you and your partner are very solid, yes? That’s not changing any time soon?”
I’d maybe exhaled too soon. “Yes, I love him.”
“That’s darling.” Clapping her hands together she’d stood from behind the desk, “Austin, we really want you in this production. You have the presence, the face and the talent and we definitely want to bring you along with us.”
“That’s great…”
“I think the lead might not be the best part for you though.” Well, shit. “I think you would be very suited to the part of the lead’s best friend. Sure, they have a few less scenes but there is still a lot of exposure, and you won’t be asked to do all the unnecessary networking that the leads will be asked to do.”
I’d zoned out for a bit, nodding in the correct places and smiling when I needed to. I’d spoken with my agent, who’d been confused at first but had then confirmed that I had received a formal offer to play a secondary role. I’d have been lying if I’d said that a few stray thoughts hadn’t passed through my mind, a barrage of what if questions, that never did anyone any good. I’d agreed to the stupid party that evening as a way to distract myself from the small voice in the back of my head that had unfairly blamed my relationship for my lack of success.
“Kyle, listen. I’m not afraid to admit anything to myself. I’m not like you, okay? Relationships and the people I love actually mean something to me. I can’t be like you, going from person to person and never really making any real connections.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m just being real man. Dylan is important to me. Even if it is true that my relationship with him held me back today, so what? Do I want to be one of those people who lives to work? Do I want, in thirty or forty years’ time, to be walking down the sidewalk and see Dylan walking hand-in-hand with another man? Fuck no, that would kill me. If I have to sacrifice to keep him with me then that’s what I’ll do.”
“I understand that, I do.” Kyle nudged my shoulder. “Come on buddy, let’s go and get drunk and forget about all this shit. We still need to celebrate because my boy went and landed himself a gig on Broadway.”
“Fuck yeah I did!” I shouted, dragging him into a hug and whooping loudly into the New York night.