18. You can have it all #3
“I moved to LA the same day I graduated high school, yeah, but…” Colby felt shame, and he fucking hated it. “I don’t know, I just… I didn’t want to prove him right, so I kept avoiding figuring it out. But… now… I think I’ve figured it out.”
“Yeah.” Ford nodded. Colby was sweaty, and his pulse was racing, but he’d just come out to someone for the first time.
Mostly. Ford sighed and sagged again, his shoulder back on the door frame.
“I’ve gotta be the asshole that asks you to pretend you haven’t figured it out.
At least for a little bit. And trust me, I hate myself for that.
But I want this career for you as much as you want it.
You’re so fucking talented, Colby. Honestly.
You can have it all. You just have to want it enough to play along. Do you?”
Ford’s eyes searched his. Colby looked away, staring at himself in the mirror.
This was why he left home. This was why he spent seven years in shit jobs living out of his van before he met Hunter.
And it wasn’t like Hunter was going to give up his shot for…
Whatever the fuck they’d done together. Proof - Hunter bailed on the Boston visit to take a job.
Colby understood, of course. Truly. He did.
He wanted Hunter to be the most famous actor on the fucking planet.
And if he had to pretend-date another actor to do it…
Hunter would probably do it. And Colby wouldn’t fault him. Much.
Colby nodded. “I want this career. I want it. I’ll do whatever.”
Ford sighed with relief and smiled. “Good. I’m gonna go smoke this and do some tequila shots at the lobby bar. Wanna join?”
“No. I need to sleep.” Colby said and swallowed, but his throat was the Sahara. He walked to the mini-bar fridge while Ford headed for the hotel room door. “I’ll text Burke, and I’ll send you details on the Canada thing.”
“Cool.”
It was over an hour later when there was a gentle rap on his door.
It was after one in the morning, but Colby was awake, lying on his back in bed, staring at nothing.
He rolled out from under the sheets, pulled on his sweats from his open suitcase in the corner, and crossed the small space.
Through the peephole, he saw Hannah. He pulled the door open. “Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah. I just… I couldn’t sleep,” Hannah said kind of sheepishly. She had changed into shorts and an oversized hoodie. She didn’t have any makeup on, which made her look younger than her twenty-seven years. “And I thought we should talk.”
“I wasn’t sleeping either,” Colby said and widened the door opening so Hannah could slip inside. He closed the door and followed her into the room. “Ford gave me the lowdown.”
“It’s strange if you aren’t used to it. I know.” Hannah sat on the edge of Colby’s messy bed. She slipped out of her flip-flops and pulled her legs up, resting her chin on her knees.
Colby sat in the chair across from the bed, extending his legs and dropping his ankles on the bed next to her. He was sagging down in the chair, almost fully reclining. His hands fanned over his middle protectively.
“Why me? Why not Kenner or Trevor?” She made a face when he said Trevor. Colby, knowing he could trust her, gave a sheepish smile. “Okay, but Kenner? He’d be a great fake boyfriend.”
“Yeah. He would. But like…well… You must know it. Deep down.” She stared at him so intently that he felt slightly uncomfortable. It was like she’d just referenced an inside joke he was supposed to get. She smiled. “Oh my God, you are too innocent for your own good.”
Hannah dropped a hand on his foot and tickled it. He pulled back instantly and almost slipped out of the chair to the ground. She smiled as he got up, and she started patting the space his feet had vacated.
“I won’t make a pass at you. Men and sex are the last thing I want in my life right now,” she promised, and he could feel her conviction in that statement.
It weighed heavily on him for some reason.
Colby dropped down onto the edge of the mattress beside her.
“You’re the pick by the label because you’re the It boy. Colby. In the world of boy bands.”
“We aren’t a boy band.”
She ignored him and continued talking, pulling up her knees again and resting her cheek on them while she looked at him. “You’re the Timberlake in NSYNC. The Styles in One Direction. Nick in Jonas.”
“I’m not any of that. I haven’t done a single solo thing.” Colby argued, but he did like the idea of it. That he would have a career after Tidal.
“Yeah, but we both know you will, and the label knows it too,” Hannah assured him. “So, it has to be you. And I promise, I know it’s all fake. It’s not my first rodeo. I won’t catch feelings.”
“You’ve been in a fake relationship before?”
“Yeah. Ty Blackwell,” she offered easily.
Colby looked shocked. “Well, I mean we never confirmed it was a relationship, which actually hooks them even more, by the way. Anyway, all the paparazzi photos were staged. All the nights out were faked. But I was new, and it got people talking about me. He had an album coming out after a huge break, so it got people talking about him.”
“This is just so fucked up,” Colby whispered and fell back onto the bed. He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“He assaulted me,” she says in a weak voice.
It was so faint that Colby took a beat to fully process that she even spoke, and then, when the words sank in, he moved his hands from his face.
She was looking down at the carpet. Or maybe her eyes were closed.
It was hard to tell from this angle. “Not Ty, but Mike. My ex. The hockey bro, as the media called him.”
Colby slowly pulled himself back up to a sitting position. “When? Are you okay?”
She shook her head and took a long, slow breath.
“Seven months ago. It took that to get me to leave him. If only his gaslighting and cheating before that had been enough for me to fucking get it. Anyway, I wanted to report it. I was told no. It would make everything worse. My… my people said they’d handle it.
Get rid of him. And they did. I haven’t seen him since.
And now… well, karma has stepped in, so I guess I can breathe. ”
“The DUI?”
She nodded and finally looked at him. Her face was a mask of resignation.
Acceptance. But not… forgiveness. Or healing, and Colby’s heart started to ache for her.
He laid a hand on top of hers, and she offered him a rocky smile.
“Is it perfect? No. But I’ve seen enough sexual assault cases play out in the press and courts, especially against athletes, and I know that even if I went against the wishes of the label, I wouldn’t win anything. Not a fucking thing.”
She didn’t cry, but she looked so sad that Colby wanted to cry for her.
Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell world did they live in?
He hugged her. He didn’t know what else to do.
And then, because Hannah thought Colby still needed convincing.
“If you’re interested in someone, you can still be with them.
Privately. I’ll help you make it happen. ”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Colby said.
“Yeah, but I mean, if you have someone else. Anyone.” Hannah said, pulling back to look at him.
He nodded. “Same with you. FYI.”
She laughed, and it was so bitter he could almost taste it in the air around them. “That’s not happening.”
She hugged him again, quickly this time. “I should go.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow for the meeting.”
She nodded and then gently cupped Colby’s face. “It’ll be painless. Promise.”
After she left, Colby lay in bed and thought of Hunter.
He’d have to tell Hunter about this before he found out from the press.
Because… well… because Hunter was… Colby suddenly felt like an idiot.
Hunter was just his best friend. Like Briar.
Only with a night or two of benefits. He didn’t need to know about this. He shouldn’t care.