Chapter Eight
Alex
“Sorry, we’re closing,” I called out as the bell above the door rang just as I was lugging a tray of dirty crockery through to the dishwasher. It had been another busy day, and although I was dead on my feet, I was happy because busy days meant we could keep paying our bills.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see…” said Henry’s familiar voice.
Only he sounded a lot more on edge than he had before.
I dumped the tray on the kitchen side and walked back through.
I was the only person left, having told Stephen I’d finish clearing up because I had some paperwork to do.
The only reason Henry had managed to get in was that I’d forgotten to lock the door.
He was stood in front of the counter looking as nervous as he sounded, his shoulders slightly hunched and his fingers playing with the hem of his jumper.
It was strange not seeing him exude the ridiculous levels of confidence he normally had.
“What’s up?” I asked, aiming for diplomacy instead of snark. I might’ve had a reputation for being a bit of a dick sometimes, but there were limits and now wasn’t the time to push. “Something wrong?”
“Yes… no… I don’t know.” He sighed. “Can I… can we… talk? Just for a few minutes. I know the drinks were a one-time thing but…” He twisted his hands together and my stomach soured. People only looked like this when they had bad news to deliver.
But I wasn’t even anything to Henry, and he definitely wasn’t anything to me, so why the fuck did the sight of him like this make me want to heave?
“Yeah, sure. Do you wanna come through?” I gestured to the kitchen. We didn’t have any blinds on the windows, so anyone who walked past would be able to see us. “We can chat in the staff room.”
Henry nodded and slid through the gap in the counter before following me into the kitchen and through to the tiny set of stairs that led to the second floor where we had a couple of rooms. Staff room was a stretch—it was more like a staff cupboard—but it still had a second-hand sofa Spencer and I had dragged up here with much kicking and swearing, a microwave, and a kettle resting on a bit of leftover kitchen counter we’d installed, and a couple of old lockers for Mina, Cleo, and Stephen to shove their stuff into.
“Sorry,” I said, gesturing for him to sit down. I leant against the bit of counter in front of the microwave. “It’s not the best.”
Henry frowned at me as he sat on the edge of one of the sofa’s faded blue cushions. “Why are you apologising? It’s cute.”
“I don’t know.” I felt frustration gnawing at me. I hated unnecessary apologies, so I didn’t know why I’d given him one. I wasn’t even sorry for the space because we’d done our best on our minimal budget. “Just ignore me. What did you want to talk about?”
Henry sat back in his seat, then sat forward again. Then he crossed one leg over the other while looking at everything but me.
“Henry,” I growled. “I haven’t got all fucking day.”
“Someone took pictures of us out on the front yesterday,” he said quickly. “They’re making the tabloid rounds.”
It felt like all the blood had drained from my body. “What the fuck?”
“I swear I didn’t know. It wasn’t something I organised.” He held up his hands. “I just found out this morning.”
“Why the fuck would you think I’d accuse you of organising that? Are you that fucking attention-seeking?”
“No… but you wouldn’t be the first person to assume I can’t live without twenty-four-seven media attention.” There was a pained look on his face that made new anger flare in my chest.
“Seriously?”
Henry shrugged. “I’m stupid famous, remember. At some point, people stop thinking of you as a person. They just see a puppet who should dance for their amusement.”
“That’s seriously fucked up.”
“That’s part of the price you pay for fame,” he said, and for the first time his voice sounded hollow. It sent a chill down my spine. “And it always ends up dragging in the people around you.”
“Did the photographers work out who I was?” I asked. Nobody had brought it up with me, but that didn’t mean someone hadn’t seen it.
“I don’t think so. You had sunglasses on, that often confuses them. And if they don’t know you by sight, they’ll often just label you as mysterious young man or something.”
I chuckled. “Mysterious young man?”
“Yeah, I think that’s what they used.”
“God, that’s such bollocks. Do they seriously just follow you round hoping you’ll do something interesting?”
“Or scandalous. Or reckless. I should’ve brought Cas with me. He’d have seen them and done… something. I don’t know.”
“Isn’t Cas your assistant?” I asked, trying to remember how Henry had introduced him. Assistant hadn’t seemed right given his appearance, but I hadn’t asked.
“Not really,” Henry said with an amused smile and shake of his head.
“He’s my bodyguard. I, er, I nearly got stabbed in LA last year, so the studio I was working for insisted I hire security.
And we get on well, so I kept him around.
He’s more of a friend these days—just one who stops me from getting murdered. ”
“You nearly got stabbed? Fucking Christ, Henry.”
He laughed and I stared at him in shock. “You know, Jason had the same reaction when I told him. Apparently, it was something I shouldn’t have dropped on him on a Saturday morning in his kitchen. He’d rather I’d told him when it happened.”
“You fucking think? He’s your brother, and from what you’ve told me, he cares about you.” I’d have fucking murdered Spencer if that’d happened to him and he hadn’t told me. Absolutely no one fucked with my brother except me, and I was sure Jason felt the same.
“I didn’t want to worry him,” Henry said. “He had enough on his plate without worrying about that. Besides, nothing happened.”
“That time,” I muttered. I wasn’t going to push it, though, because we were getting off topic. “Was there a reason you came to tell me this? Do you think they’ll try and find out who you were with?”
“Maybe. But, er, I… well… I wanted to ask…”
“What?”
“Will you be my boyfriend?”
His words echoed in my ears like the sound of a cannon.
“Your… what the fuck? Why the fuck would you ask me that? Did you listen to anything I said yesterday?” I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for his charm. He hadn’t been listening to me at all. How could I have been so stupid?
“Alex, please,” Henry said calmly, putting his hands up like he was trying to surrender.
“I did listen to you. You don’t want a boyfriend, and that’s fine.
But what about a fake boyfriend?” He looked up at me, his eyes full of a sincerity I hadn’t seen before.
“Look, I’ll be honest. I didn’t want to even ask you because it’s nothing to do with you really.
” He sighed, looking utterly defeated, and I hated how seeing him like that made me feel.
“I’m not quite sure of all the ins and outs, but even though they were supportive last year, the owners of the superhero franchise are upset about me taking on a steamy, queer project while still under contract with them.
Apparently, they’re happy for me to be queer but only as long as it’s marketable and family friendly. ”
I stared at him, trying to process the sheer amount of bollocks I was hearing. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.
“And the streaming service is getting nervous about upsetting them and losing money,” Henry continued. “And coupled with Kane’s personal life and my diva tantrum, they’re basically looking for any excuse not to give us a second season. If they air this one at all.”
“Diva tantrum?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll explain later.
The point is that they’ve only ordered one season of Llewelyn, and it’s dangerously close to becoming the only one we get, and I’m now at risk of…
I don’t know, ruining everything or maybe even getting sued because everyone thinks I’m going to make them look bad and lose them billions of dollars. ”
He scoffed, his despair giving way to exasperation.
“I don’t even know what’s caused this! I mean, I know I’m a bit of a flirt and I like sex, but I’m not that bad.
And I don’t understand why me doing one passion project where I get naked a few times is going to cause the entire world to boycott the next Protectors of Earth movie.
Nobody is going to care except a few loud dickwads who spend their entire lives spouting off drivel on the internet!
And the studio might not believe it, but I’m a fucking professional.
I’m not going to suddenly start sleeping with everyone who shows even the vaguest bit of interest. I’m not that desperate.
And anyway, it wouldn’t be like I was the first to do that. ”
I shook my head. None of what he’d said made any sense to me, but I had no time for Hollywood politics or any shit like that. It felt like they were looking for a way to punish Henry for doing something they didn’t approve of, and that made me seethe.
I’d always hated bullies.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, folding my arms as I looked at him. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend for, what, six months? How long does this shit take?”
“About that, maybe longer depending on press stuff.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered as I tried to ignore the headache starting to form.
It felt like someone was shoving needles into my temple.
“You want me to be your boyfriend until some point in the future so you don’t lose your job because some asshole somewhere thinks you’re a desperate, horny liability?
And because they’re pissed at you for getting your kit off on TV? ”
“Yeah,” he said. “Pretty much.”
“You do realise how fucked up that sounds? Do you even hear yourself?”