Chapter 11
Kim was sitting on the terrace of his room.
Luckily the hotel building cast it in shade after about two p.m. Otherwise, it would have been quite useless as a place to sit during the day, the heat was so intense.
Through the balcony railings—stylized fig trees worked in wrought iron—the Mediterranean was a flat sheet of sun-kissed blue stretching away to the horizon, seen through the shimmer of the heat haze rising off Barcelona.
His head was exploding with the events of that morning.
Here in Barcelona he was alone, and needed to speak to someone.
But who? Laia and he were hardly more than a professional relationship, yet she was the closest thing approaching a friend he had in this city.
But she was Dídac’s friend. Talking to her would be seen as making an indirect approach to Dídac and he didn’t want that.
For the sake of the production and his professional ethics, he needed to steer clear of the younger actor for the remainder of the rehearsal period.
Once the show had premiered, he could set his sights on the next city, Manchester.
They said it was an amazing place, very welcoming and friendly, with a happening gay scene.
But the thought of avoiding Dídac from now until then, maintaining contact only as strictly necessary within the production, tore at his heart.
When he had apologized for being so terribly unprofessional, the young actor looked like he had slapped him in the face.
The following rehearsal had been tough, both of them trying to be professional, putting all their energies into their interactions with the other cast members and avoiding each other as much as they possibly could.
But it hadn’t been easy. He was the director and Dídac the lead—they needed to work together.
What a fool he’d been! In that one unguarded moment, he’d jeopardized the whole production.
Almost without thinking, his fingers searched out a contact on his phone. His finger paused over the Ring button. What time would it be? Four o’clock here, that would make it… midnight in Melbourne. Too late? Probably not. His finger hit Ring.
“Hey, stranger! How goes it?”
Tony’s grinning face filled the screen.
“Hi gorgeous, not too late?”
Tony laughed his infectious laugh, making Kim smile and glow inside.
“Midnight? Late for me? Come on, fella, you know me a little better than that.”
“Yeah. God, it’s good to hear your voice… and see you.”
“So how’s it going over there? You look like you’re on some sort of terrace?”
“My hotel.”
Kim did a twirl with his phone, so that Tony could see the wide sweep of the Mediterranean, the thick carpet of Barcelona’s urban sprawl, the hotel building and the hills to either side.
“Geez, posh, baby! They’ve got you set up in the lap of luxury, haven’t they!”
“It was in the contract—my agent negotiated it, but yeah, it’s nice. I shouldn’t get too used to it. It’s just for a few weeks. Manchester will be a bit more humble, she tells me.”
“So how’re rehearsals going, fella? And are you breaking any hearts over there?”
Kim sighed, and everything that had happened that morning came rushing back in.
“I think I’ve fucked it up royally to be honest.”
“I’m sure you haven’t. Tell me about it.”
So Kim began from the beginning, describing his arrival at the hotel and the clash he had had straight off with Dídac, the frictions, his doubts about whether the actor was right for the part.
It felt strange to be telling an ex of his about this present situation, but Tony was decidedly an ex.
They were more friends now than anything else.
And Kim needed to get this off his chest to someone.
He went on how they seemed to have found some seed of a way to work together, and even described Dídac’s confession at the press conference:
“He saw me in Boomerang.”
“No shit! I saw you in Boomerang. You weren’t just brilliant but gorgeous. That was when I decided I wanted you.”
“Thanks, yeah, but he was just a kid.”
“And how old is he now?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Same age as you were in Boomerang.”
“Yeah, but a bit young for me.”
“And for me. And then what happened?”
“We kissed.”
“Oh shit, Kim. You didn’t!”
“I know.”
Kim felt gutted at his own confession, but if Tony seemed scandalized, he was also chuckling.
“So it sounds like he’s all over you, puppy love and all that. You need to put the brakes on. Treat him mean. Keep him at arm’s length. And he’ll get over it… eventually. Have him the last night before you fly out if you really want him.”
“That sounds cruel. But, you’re right: I need to keep my distance from him. I’m more worried about the production. I can’t have an actor, the lead, going wobbly on me, especially in this one. It’s such a short rehearsal run.”
“Do what you do best: put on the jack boots, get strict, and whip that production into shape. If you need some R to sink his fingers into Dídac’s dense black curls, grasping the actor’s delicate scalp through that mass of hair, and pull him in for a deeper kiss.
But that was crazy! How would they ever maintain any sort of a professional relationship if they let themselves go like that.
This production of The Swan and Kim’s career were far more important to him than one simple act of sex.
He wasn’t prepared to sacrifice everything he’d worked for over the years just to have a smutty roll in the hay with some cute actor.
Again, he put Dídac and that killer jawline, the sexy stubble, out of his mind again and picked up his notes.
Tomorrow they were blocking the first major scene between Dídac’s character Anton, and his parents, played by Felipa and Domènec.
All three were veteran actors with many years’ experience treading the boards under their belts.
Kim couldn’t afford to mess it up. Tomorrow would be the big day where he needed to prove his salt as a director before the production’s three most heavyweight actors.
He needed concentration. Should he call Laia and get her to come to his hotel and work it through with him?
At the thought of Laia, his mind slipped back to Dídac and that sensational kiss, and he was back to square one.
It had been a joy working with him in that physical improvisation as well.
The guy was intuitive, fast, creative, and daring in what he did on stage.
He was like a flame, a dark flame that flickered and flared in the most surprising configurations and spontaneous creations.
Yet at the same time, he had the gravity and weight of a far older actor.
He could pause and feel deep inside himself for an almost Buddhistic calm, knowing the balance to alternate between action and stillness.
Kim huffed and forced his thoughts back toward blocking the next day’s rehearsal. He couldn’t afford to arrive unprepared, or for Laia to see him distracted like this. Tomorrow he would see Dídac again, but he had to be prepared.