6. Nate
NATE
The next morning, I clear my day, check that Zach is awake, throw on my jogging things, and head to Halo House. I’m there by eight and have to use the buzzer on the gate to be let into the compound. I ring the front doorbell.
A sleepy voice responds through the intercom. “Who is it?”
“Nate. To see Zach, in room seven.”
“Hold on.”
Zach opens the door a couple of minutes later, wearing the same jeans as yesterday, but a different T-shirt. His feet are bare, and his hair is damp, suggesting he’s already showered.
He flicks his gaze over me. “You’re not wearing a jacket today.”
“You noticed. I thought we could go for a run.”
“A run?”
I nod. “Or are you a gym-only kind of guy?”
“No, I like jogging.”
“Great.” Smiling, I hand him a sports bag. “They’re mine, but they should fit you. I’ll wait in the car.”
He hesitates.
“Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know what the press does and doesn’t know about what happened. I haven’t checked. I’m not sure I want to be seen out in public right now. I know I’m not a big name or anything…”
“I understand. Don’t worry. The jogging route I’m thinking of is pretty quiet, especially at this time of day. It’ll be a bit late for the pre-work runners by the time we get there. I doubt we’ll run into anyone else.”
“Pun intended?”
I smile. “No, but let’s pretend it was.”
That makes him chuckle.
“If you’d rather stay here, we can.”
He shakes himself. “No. A run will be good. It’ll blow away the cobwebs.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“It’s something my nan used to say.”
“Your nan?”
“My grandmother.” He blushes. “I’ll go and get changed. I won’t be long.” He shuts the door.
I lean against the car, idly scrolling through social media apps on my phone while I wait. I hope that going for a run together will be low-pressure enough to get him to relax around me and maybe open up more. And, if not, at least we’ll both get some exercise and fresh air.
He doesn’t keep me waiting long. It’s odd seeing him in my gray sweatpants and T-shirt, especially as they fit him better than me. A man in sweatpants is always a delight.
“Am I supposed to leave a note or something?” he asks. “I didn’t see anyone else around to let them know I’m going out. I don’t know how stuff like that works.”
“I’ll text Phoenix,” I reply.
“Thanks.”
I open the passenger side door for him, wait until he’s slid into the seat, and then close it. I might not be his Daddy, but I still intend to give him a taste of what it’s like to be taken care of.
“It’s about a half-hour drive from here,” I tell him. “Feel free to browse my Spotify to pick some music. Know that I will absolutely judge you based on the songs you pick, though,” I add with a playful edge to my voice.
“Does that mean I get to look through your playlists and judge you?”
I chuckle. “Absolutely.”
I unlock my phone and hand it to him. As he starts browsing, I pull out of the drive and onto the road.
“Actually, you’ve got pretty good taste in music,” he says, putting on one of my mixes, which contains artists like Queen, Bon Jovi, and Muse.
“You seem a bit more relaxed today,” I note.
He rests his arm on the edge of the car door, against the window, and taps his forefinger against his lips. “I slept better and, honestly, I’m fired up about the idea of going for a run.” He glances at me and offers me a nervous smile. “It was a good idea, thanks.”
“So you don’t just work out to get roles, you enjoy it, too?”
“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t at first, but the fitter I got, the more fun it became. What about you?”
“I started working out after the incident with my friend’s dad. Well, after I’d got over the concussion, anyway. I wanted to be able to stand up to abusive bastards like that if I ever needed to.”
When Zach remains quiet, I take my eyes off the road long enough to glance at him. He’s staring thoughtfully out the passenger window, his finger resting over his top lip now.
About two songs later, he says, “You never mentioned your friend’s name.”
“Kurt.” It still aches to say it, after all these years.
“Were you…? Never mind.”
“Boyfriends?”
“Yes. But, forget it. It’s none of my business. You’ve already told me more than I—” he cuts himself off.
I can guess what he was going to say: more than he’s told me.
“No. That’s not to say we didn’t experiment when we were figuring out our sexuality. But, no, we never dated. It was never an option. Not for Kurt.”
“Because of his dad?”
I nod and tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “I’m lucky that my parents weren’t bigoted.” I risk a sideways glance. “Are you lucky?”
He takes a deep breath. “Yes. My family’s great in that respect. But… Other than them and a few friends back home, I’m in the closet.”
I’m glad he felt able to tell me that himself.
He’s silent for a moment. “I thought it would be easier to get roles if I kept it to myself. I don’t… I… I guess that makes me a coward, huh?”
“I think who you’re attracted to is nobody’s business but your own. For every out gay actor there is, there’s at least a dozen more who keep their sexuality to themselves. That’s not cowardice, Zach. It’s pragmatism.”
Too many of the ones who are out didn’t step out of the closet because they wanted to, but because some idiot reporter decided a scoop was more important than someone’s privacy, forcing them to either confirm or deny the rumors.
I keep the thought to myself. Something has freaked Zach out.
He doesn’t need the worry of eventually being outed added to that.
Besides, he likely already knows it could happen.
The more famous he gets, the harder it’ll be to keep his private life private.
Some stars manage it, even some of the biggest A-listers, but sadly, it’s not the reality for most.
He doesn’t reply. Instead, he sings softly, and more tunefully than I ever could, to the music.
“You’ve got a good voice,” I say.
“I have a passable voice. The drama club I went to as a kid gave us all singing and dancing lessons. The idea was that we’d all be triple threats if we wanted to be.”
“Good for musical theatre.”
He chuckles. “Yeah. My voice is nowhere near that good. Besides, I prefer performing in front of a camera. It’s more forgiving.
Stage acting is a lot more stressful. You have to get it right every time.
And while you can’t mess up too often when you’re filming, there is more leeway.
And who doesn’t love a bloopers reel? They make good marketing, especially after a film is out. ”
“Good DVD content, too.”
“I don’t own a single DVD. I stream everything I want to watch.”
“Are you trying to make me feel old?”
“You’re not that much older than me.”
“Old enough that I have a decent DVD collection. We’re here.”
I pull into the trailhead parking. As I expected, there are no other cars here. I’d usually hit this trail closer to seven than nine.
“Do you want a gentle jog, or something more intense?” I ask, once we’re out of the car and stretching.
“Start gently to warm up and see how it goes?”
“Sounds good to me.”
We finish stretching. I give Zach one of the two water bottles I threw in the car this morning, and then we set off at a gentle pace, as requested. Hopefully, he’ll keep chatting to me. He’s already a lot more talkative than he was yesterday.
“Yesterday, you said that Kurt was the reason you got into kink,” Zach asks after a while.
I swig from my water bottle without losing pace. “Yes.”
“Would you tell me about it?”
If talking about myself helps him open up, I’m happy to.
“I was angry and upset for a long time after Kurt died. I started working out, took up boxing, learnt to surf, anything that either made me feel stronger or more alive. But, as I got older, I realized I needed more. I needed something more… I don’t know.
Productive’s not the right word. Constructive?
” I pause to navigate a rough, steep stretch of the trail.
I’m still breathless when I start talking again.
“I ended up at a kink club on a dare, but it turned out to be the best thing I ever did.”
“Have you always been a Daddy?”
“No. I started as a submissive.”
Zach stares at me.
“Can’t imagine it?”
“No. You’re so…” He gestures at me. “Strong.”
“There’s strength in vulnerability, Zach. In being able to trust someone to take care of you. Yesterday, you asked me if I’d ever been scared.”
Zach stays silent.
“The truth is, from the moment Kurt’s dad floored me, to the moment I let myself truly submit to another man, I was scared.
Letting myself be vulnerable, after a few years of proving I could be a tough guy, was cathartic.
” I smile at the memory. “But I found more joy in being a Dominant than a submissive. I switched between the two for a while, but ultimately realized I was a Daddy.”
“How?”
“I like caring for other men. I like the tenderness that comes with a Daddy/boy relationship. That’s what the submissive tends to be referred to in that dynamic.
A boy or a girl. It’s not about age.” I have no idea how much Zach knows about kink in general.
I’d assume a little bit, but something tells me he’s never been involved in the scene.
“You just like caring for boys?” he asks tentatively.
“Are you asking if I’m bi?”
He stares straight ahead. “I guess I am.”
“Just boys.”
He glances at me through the corner of his eye. “And it doesn’t have to be sexual?”
“No. It can be, and often is, but it doesn’t have to be. Especially when it’s someone from Halo House.”
He slows, eventually stopping and leaning onto his knees, breathing hard.
We’ve reached the crest of a hill. The sun is blazing, but the trees shade us, and we have an amazing view over the valley.
I stand beside him, stretching to keep my muscles warm so they don’t cramp up.
After a moment, he does the same, quietly copying my actions.
“I’ve never explored kink,” he says after a while.
“I was always too focused on my career. On attending audition after audition. On getting experience everywhere I could. In adverts, blink, and you’ll miss it.
TV parts, walk-ons and so on. Early starts meant I stayed home while my friends went out clubbing. I always thought it was worth it.”
“And now?” I ask gently.
He blinks fiercely. “Now I’m not sure I want this life anymore.”
I want to hold him, like I did yesterday, but I don’t move closer to him. Right now, he needs the space to process his thoughts and talk. If he’s ready to.
“It’s not what I was expecting at all. Sure, it was fun having people ask for my autograph, selfies, and things at first, but I never thought…
I never imagined…” He shakes his head. “I guess I had an idolized view of what it is to be famous. And the reality isn’t nearly as glamorous.
It’s lonely, and scary, and—” His voice breaks.
He hunches his shoulders and hugs himself.
I check we’re completely alone, and then close the distance between us and pull him into my arms. He relaxes a lot faster than he did yesterday, resting his cheek on my shoulder, and unfolding his arms to cling to my T-shirt.
He doesn’t cry, but there’s so much tension in his body it makes my heart ache. I rub calming circles over his back.
“You’re not alone,” I tell him. “I’m here, and I’m sure you’ll make friends at Halo House.” If he lets himself.
“I might have been adopted,” he whispers.
“Oh?”
“By Puck. At least, they loaned me one of their teddy bears.”
“Puck’s a great kid.”
He nods against my shoulder. “I’m too scared to go back to my apartment,” he admits.
“And I can’t go home, either. My parents have given me so much support over the years.
Paying for the drama club, ferrying me to and from it.
Attending every performance, taking me to auditions, and jobs.
Helping me keep up with my schoolwork. Paying for my flight here.
They even paid my rent for the first three months.
If I give up and go home now, I’ll be letting them down. ”
“I don’t think that’s true.” I can’t know that for sure, but parents who are that supportive are unlikely to think badly of him, especially when trauma is fueling his doubt. “Whatever your reasons are for going home, they’d be happy you were able to go to them.”
He pulls away and stares out at the view. “I can’t let them down. I can’t.” He clenches and unclenches his fists. “Why? Why am I feeling this way? Why can’t I shrug it off and move on?”
“An encounter with a stalker isn’t something you just get over.”
“I know.”
“Would it help to talk about it? In more detail, I mean.”
I take a deep breath and nod. “Yes, I think it will. But do you mind if we go back to Halo House to talk? I’d rather not get interrupted mid-flow by a random jogger.”
“Of course, but we need to get back to the bottom of the trail first. Are we going to take it slowly, or…?”
“Race me?”
I grin. “Gladly.”