21. “Now I have to remember you for longer than I have known you.” - C.C. Aurel
Chapter 21
“Now I have to remember you for longer than I have known you.” - C.C. Aurel
Dylan
T his isn’t my bed , was the first panicked thought that ran through my head as my eyes peeled open in the harsh morning light which streamed through unfamiliar shutters on windows that I had never seen before. The heavy pounding in my brain and the intense dry mouth quickly informed me I’d definitely drank too much the night before. I looked around the room, my eyes catching on a lacquered black and gold patterned Chinese dresser. I spotted a TV that had been mounted on the wall at the foot of the bed. A series of t-shirts and shirts adorned a metal rail in the corner of the room.
What the hell did I do last night? Through the pounding of my skull, memories of the cast party and the long train ride home pushed to the front. I groaned and threw my arm over my eyes. Mainly to block the beams of death rays coming through the window, but also to force away the offending memories of the night before.
What the fuck had I done? Sure, Austin had been a little selfish by just leaving me at a party, but networking was good for his career. Had I just overreacted and gotten drunk out of spite? What would he be thinking this morning, and was he worrying about where I was?
“You’re awake,” a deep familiar voice boomed across the room.
“Holy fuck!” I yelped, pulling up the white cotton sheets that had pooled around my waist up over my chest up to my neck, like a startled woman covering my non-existent breasts. Standing at the door with nothing on but a towel around his waist was Darren from the coffee shop.
“Oh my god Darren, what the fuck are you doing in here?” I pulled the sheet tighter around myself, glaring at the amused expression on Darren’s face.
“Well, I mean I own the whole house, and this is my bedroom,” he laughed.
“ YOUR bedroom?” I squealed. “Please god tell me we didn’t…”
He laughed again, perching at the end of the mattress, reaching across the bed and rubbing my calf. I grimaced, pulling back slightly. His fingertips gripped my skin and held me in place.
“Dylan, you rocked my world.” He grinned seductively.
“Oh my God!” I wailed. I looked underneath the covers and was happily surprised to find I was wearing at least some form of underwear. Scrabbling over to the other side of the bed in desperation, I pulled the sheet with me, wrapping it around my waist While leaning over the edge of the bed in search of some clothing.
“Dylan!” I heard him laugh behind me. “I’m joking, man, calm the fuck down.”
I gathered the sheets around me once more and turned towards him tentatively. “So we didn’t?”
He rubbed his chin between his fingertips and mused, “I’m wondering when would have been a good time to make a move, when you were singing along with the radio during the heartbreak hour? When you decided to your own rendition of All by myself , just with no music or a tune to be found, or when you finally threw up in my kitchen sink after drinking some very questionable German liquor you found at the back of my drinks cabinet?”
Suddenly the headache felt worse, likely due to the extra pounding of embarrassment now wrapping its fist around my heart and giving it a good old squeeze. The nerves in my fingertips and arms that were, in my opinion, solely there to inform you of a major cringe factor, took full effect, making me want to curl into a ball and explode into dust forever.
“I’m so sorry, Darren,” I grimaced. “I remember not wanting to go home and I needed a friend.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he smiled. “Mainly because you repeated it on a loop last night. Man, you have the memory of a goldfish when you have a couple of Killepitsch inside you.”
I felt the blush spread up from my toes, right the way to the top of my head. “What did I put inside me?”
“Killepitsch,” he laughed. “The German liquor I was telling you about.”
“Oh yeah.” I tried for a smile. “Fun.”
“So, now that we have established that we didn’t fuck like bunnies last night,” he coughed out a laugh, “and by the way, if you ever find yourself single or opening that relationship up, then please let me be the first to know cause I would totally hit that.” His voice took on an almost large feline-like quality, as did the predatory look in his eyes. “But what do you plan to do about Austin?”
I flashed back to a text message I’d sent him telling him not to contact me; I was still hurt, and I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what I wanted to say to Austin. My first instinct when I woke up was that I had overreacted, and maybe I was in the wrong. I had, however, been having some thoughts lately about how I responded to adversity in our relationship. My first instinct was always to protect Austin. My second was to identify how it was my fault. A part of me still felt I was lucky to be with Austin, and that I should count my lucky stars that someone like him was with someone like me. I had spoken to Natalie about these thoughts and had quickly received a sharp, swift punch to my upper arm.
“I don’t want to hear this type of crap from you ever again,” she’d bit out before punching me again. “I don’t care if Austin has abs, or a perfect face or a butt for days. He is the lucky one here.”
“Natalie…”
“No Dylan,” she’d barked insistently. “You are so kind. You are warm and caring. You are so smart and funny. You try to see the good in everyone and you want everyone to know how special they are. You never put yourself first, and I think you are one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.”
“That’s really sweet,” I’d smiled before yelping as she’d punched the same spot once more. “I’m amazing, but I no longer have the use of my left arm,” I’d laughed, rubbing the assaulted site.
Back in the present day I shook my head and shrugged. “I really don’t know Darren, but I know we need to talk.”
“Well then, I best get out your way so you can get dressed.” He winked. “Unless you want me to stay for that?”
“I’ll be fine by myself Darren.” I threw a pillow at him, which he snatched out of the air and placed back on the bed, before shrugging and leaving me to my own devices. After a quick awkward hug goodbye and refusing Darren’s offer for a lift home, I began the thirty-minute walk back to my place.
I pulled my cell from my pocket and switched it back on. It had scared me to do it earlier, not wanting to see the number of missed messages I’d received from Austin the night before. My fear was justified as a slew of notifications popped up on my screen, the trilling sound of the phone alarm playing over and over with each new message.
There were some messages from Natalie, so apparently I would need to smooth things over with her as well. I read her last message which read:
Natalie: I love me a messy drunk Dylan, but do you honestly believe it’s the best idea in a serious, committed relationship to run away from your problems and spend the night at another man’s house? I think that looks kind of bad, you know, dude. Anyway, you know I love you no matter what, so call me.
I pocketed my phone, not wanting to deal with that mess now since I’d already had more than enough relationship drama on the horizon.
A short while later, I opened the front door of our house. Soft music played in the background emanating from the kitchen. Relieved that we could at least get this mess sorted straight away, I began.
“Hey, I’m really sorry for…” I stopped in my tracks. Rather than the familiar shape of my boyfriend, I stared at the wide shirtless back of a heavily muscled, dark-haired mystery man. “Erm, hello?”
He turned around, and I could feel my mood drop as my face fell. “Kyle,” I stated plainly.
“Dylan,” he tried, as pleasantly as Kyle could manage, which was about as pleasant as a cobra waiting to strike some unsuspecting prey.
“Not that I’m not pleased to see you, but what are you doing in my house? Why are you shirtless? And where is Austin?” All very good questions, which I felt he should answer quickly before I lost my shit. I could already feel my pulse spiking and skin temperature rising as I took in his perfect abs and defined chest, and not in a good way. Kyle had the unfortunate luck of having the only aesthetically perfect body I found highly unappealing and irritating.
“Good morning to you too, Dylan,” he smiled, turning back around to take a frying pan off the stove.
“You’re cooking?”
“You’re observant.” He grinned.
“Kyle!”
“Fine, yes, I’m just whipping up some eggs for myself and Austin.” He gestured towards two plates on the counter next to him with toast on them.
“And why are you here making eggs and toast for my boyfriend, might I ask?” I felt my hands gravitate towards my hips and let them fall to my side.
“I invited him over.” I spun to see a sleepy-looking Austin stumble into the kitchen, bypass me and walk over to fist-bump Kyle. He swiped the coffeepot off the counter and poured himself a cup. He took a seat at the kitchen table and rested his cup between his palms. “So you’re home,” he stated.
“Yeah, I just got home.” I sounded confused and for good reason. “Why is he here, Austin? Did he stay the night?”
“Hey listen,” Kyle piped up. “I’m gonna grab some clothes and get outta of your hair. Dylan, feel free to eat my eggs.” He fist-bumped Austin again on the way out of the kitchen, laying a hand on his shoulder after.
“Thanks for everything, man.”
“Sure thing.” Kyle smiled affectionately down at Austin before closing the door behind him.
“What the actual fuck, Austin?” I whispered angrily at him.
“Fuck no.” He slammed his fist down on the table. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to stay all night, getting up to god-knows-what, and then come home and act all judgmental and suspicious.”
“But he was…”
“Where were you, Dylan?” He eyed me curiously. “Where the fuck did you stay last night and who with?”
I knew before I began that this would not go down well. I suspected a part of me, the night before, chose Darren to get back at Austin. Even if I wasn’t planning on sleeping with him, just the mere thought I was with Darren would drive Austin crazy. Yeah, I’m a bit of a dick.
“I was upset, okay, and I just needed a friend to talk to,” I started, trying to get it all out quickly, “and it was really late and the only person who I knew wouldn’t mind was Darren, so I…”
“You have been with Darren?” he asked, dangerously quiet. “All night?”
“Nothing happened.” My frown deepened on my forehead. “You know I don’t think of Darren that way.”
“And you know he has wanted to fuck you since he met you,” he bit out through his teeth. “Is that why you went to see him?”
“What is the fuck is that supposed to mean?” This was not going at all the way I imagined.
“I need you to answer me honestly, Dylan.” Austin’s eyes narrowed. “Were you so jealous of my success that you had to come home and act out and spend the night at some guy’s house, some guy we both know wants to fuck you?”
I slammed my fist down on the table, an electric shock of pain bolting up my arm. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
“Come on, Dylan.” His laugh was dark and twisted. “Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence that right after opening night, you suddenly find something to bitch about and leave me hanging all night While you go off and do god-knows-what with your gay boss?”
“Austin, I have been nothing but supportive of you and your career.” I could feel my heart break in my chest. All the things I had done, sacrificed, and happily thrown away just so this man in front of me, accusing me of this horrible shit, could succeed. “I spent so much time helping you rehearse. Even when I had little to no sleep and was working two jobs, I made sure that you and your career came first. Fuck, even leaving work early when the rest of the assistants were staying back late to come watch the dress rehearsals.”
“And you think that gives you the right to try to emotionally sabotage my night?” I could see his resolve waning, but we were both too deep in and the only way was down.
“Is that what you believe I did?”
“Well, if the shoe fits.” His face was an indignant mask.
“How about I was so fucking proud to just stand with you last night, to go anywhere you wanted to go, be who you needed me to be?” A traitorous tear tracked down my face. I saw him make a move towards me, so I put up my hands to still him. “Only to find out you had disappeared and told you fucking casting director to throw me a fifty and have a safe travel home.”
“Dylan, that’s not what happened.”
Once more I put up a hand to stop him. “What I know is that I went to watch my boyfriend in his opening night, and I was left alone in the middle of the city to find my way home While he partied with the stars.” Fuck, another tear. “So if that makes me jealous, then so be it.”
Austin sank to his knees and moved to kneel between my open thighs. “Dylan, listen to me. That’s not what happened. Yes, I had to leave to go to a meeting with studio executives. I told Marge that she had to get you home safely. I thought they were going to put you in a town car and drive you home.”
Could he be telling the truth? Fuck, why was I even asking myself the question? Of course he was right. I’d fallen for Marge’s games hook, line, and sinker. She had found a way to come between me and Austin, and I had given her exactly what she wanted.
“If that is true then I am really sorry Austin.” I rested my hands on his wide shoulder. “She told me that you had another event that you wanted to go to with the cast and you basically wished me the best of luck. She pretty much told me to leave when I came to find you, as well.”
“I swear, Dylan,” he turned his head to kiss my hand, “I wouldn’t do that to you and I’m sorry I left you. I tried to look for you, but it was so crowded in there and the car just couldn’t wait.”
I felt his lips against my skin, and it should have made me feel better, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of lead in my stomach. It might have been said in the heat of the moment, but did he really think that I was jealous of his success and that I was the type of person to intentionally ruin his big night? I was the guy who had hidden my relationship with him for so long, even when he hadn’t wanted to, just so that he could keep his fucking social status in the school. I was the one who’d put up with the shit that his friends had put me through, just so that he didn’t lose them. I was the guy who’d spent the whole of my college life playing second fiddle to his fucking model fuck housemates, and then had forgiven him when he’d made out with another guy right in front of me. I was also the guy who’d put his life on hold, to work in a coffee shop and pay the bills While this motherfucker went on audition after audition. Spewing all this pent-up frustration would lead to nothing good, so I pushed it deep, deep down.
“Why did you have to leave, anyway?” It hadn’t even occurred to me in the last few minutes of talking that I was still in the dark about what was so important that he had to abandon me in the city? Was I making myself sound like a damsel in distress? Maybe a bit.
A slow easy smile spread across Austin’s face. I guess all the horrible shit we said to each other was just going to be forgotten and maybe turned into a stress ulcer much later. Sitting back on his chair, he pulled his cup of coffee closer to him before taking a small sip. “Well it’s kind of big news, really.”
“Tell me.”
Ten minutes later my mouth was still agape. “This is so fucking excellent, Austin. I’m so proud of you!”
“Thanks babe,” he laughed. “I’m kinda proud of me too.”
“So they are going to let you finish the stage run before they start shooting?” This was all so mind blowing. One minute he was on a Broadway stage, and then the next, a global streaming star. Who cared if I was getting a bit ahead of myself, this was such a massive opportunity for him.
“Yeah, they are.” His shoulders suddenly tensed up. “There’s something else I haven’t told you. It’s kind of a potential issue with this whole thing.”
“Tell me,” I said once more.
“Well, they are planning to greenlight the show for a minimum of three seasons. The director also wants to expand our contracts so if need be, we can act in other shows and movies that the network is producing.” Even better, Austin might get to appear on more than one show.
“Dylan, what it means is that a lot of my time will be taken up with work, and I won’t have much time for travel.”
Why would I care about travelling? “I don’t understand.”
“Dylan the offices for FilmFlix are in New York.” I nodded because I knew this. I had submitted my resume there on more than one occasion. “But the sound stages and studios are in Hollywood.”
My brain refused to process what he was saying for fear of what he might be trying to say. “You mean...”
“Yeah, in a couple of months, I have to move to Hollywood.”
Well shit.