Chapter 15 #2
I nod. ‘I’ve been lucky growing up: always encouraged to be who I am and to not dim my light for anyone. But this week, being told that might stop me from playing the roles I’ve dreamed of playing – Sweeney Todd, Javert, Judas – when I haven’t even started yet? It’s thrown me for a bit of a loop.’
‘If it’s any comfort, I’ve played two of those roles since coming out.
I won’t lie and say it wasn’t harder to convince casting directors that I was “serious” enough to be the dark, brooding man, but I’ll take the Olivier nom for Sweeney as enough of an endorsement that I did okay.
And to be fair, doing Eurovision caused me way more pushback on my worth as a “proper actor” than being gay ever has.
There’s always going to be challenges in your career, Olly, but being authentic to yourself is one of the things worth having to fight harder for, I promise you. I only regret not doing it earlier…’
‘Thank you. That’s so good to hear from someone I admire as much as you…’
‘It’s my pleasure, Olly. You’ve got something special. Make sure everyone knows it.’
With a nod, he takes his leave.
He actually said I was special? Took minutes out of his day to give me advice?253
Wait, minutes have past and there’s still no sign of Tarun. What’s going on?
We’re between sound checks, so I stand up to fully survey the crowd, but he’s not here. Sabrina’s walking past me and I flag her down.
‘You haven’t seen Tarun, have you? He was due back twenty minutes ago.’
‘He’s not here?’ she asks, going to high alert, scouring the auditorium.
‘No. He said he wanted to stay in the dressing room over lunch to have some quiet time, and I checked when I came back that he hadn’t signed out. I’ve sent him a message but he hasn’t replied. Can I go check if he’s upstairs?’
Her face is taut. ‘I’ll come with you. Hopefully he’s napping.’
We head through the velvet curtain that hides the access door from the auditorium to backstage. I take three steps at a time and rush to his dressing room.
I knock. No response.
The crimson room is empty when I push open the door.
Sabrina appears next to me, her brow knotted in concern.
‘When did you last speak to him?’
‘We texted just after lunch started.’254
‘And there was nothing in his texts about him being worried? Nothing indicating he might run away?’
Run away? He wouldn’t. He was excited about performing when we spoke this morning.
But his face when I said that Marty was disappointed in me for getting caught up in our …
attraction to each other during ‘You Will Be Found’.
The literal part of the show that made Rob Harrison pay attention to me.
I was angry with myself, but what if I made him think I was angry with him?
What if he came back to the dressing room and started panicking? Didn’t have his guitar to ground him or anyone to comfort him? What if he thought it was easier just to go?
‘God. Maybe. Maybe he’s run away.’
Tarun
Rain’s pouring on me, and I’m soaked through. I dive to take cover under a just-about waterproof shop awning to give my thin jacket a break. I’d been making solid progress, getting away from familiar theatre territory, since leaving the hotel. But then the heavens opened.
I pull my phone out to check how long it’s going to be raining for, just as a bus drives past through a giant 255puddle at high speed, drenching me. I shake myself off, but my phone vibrates in my hand and I stop. It’s an unknown number, so I let it ring out.
Tarun – this is Sabrina. Please can you call me back urgently?
Feck. They’ve figured out I’ve gone.
I want to run, get as far away as possible, and not have the chance to check my phone, but the rain’s pounding so I’m stuck here. A second call comes in, but this time it’s from a number I have saved: Olly’s. The ‘Incoming Call’ notification panics me, so I press decline after two rings.
He should be rehearsing his song for the final six, not calling me!
You have one new voice message
It’s from Olly. If I listen, I’ll know what state he’s in.
Then I can explain my decision logically, so he’ll go back to thinking about himself and the competition.
Closing my eyes, I press the button before I can change my mind, quickly moving the phone up to my ear so I can hear over the thumping rain.
‘Tarun. Please pick up the phone,’ his recorded voice says, quivering.
‘Everyone’s freaking out and they’ve 256stopped rehearsals until we find you.
Please let me know you’re alright. I can’t think about the competition while you’re missing.
If it’s something I’ve done … I’m sorry.
I was never angry with you, and I was being stupid anyway!
But at least call Sabrina back and let her know where you are. Okay? Please.’
I gulp. In the background noise of the message everyone’s running around and panicking. They shouldn’t be making such a big deal. I’m not important! Why have they stopped rehearsals?
Worst of all, Olly thinks he’s done something wrong. I’ve done this because I like him. And I was holding him back. He normally speaks in such a clear and confident way, but he sounded on the verge of tears.
I need to let him know this isn’t his fault, and that I’m fine now I’ve gone. Then, he and everyone at the Larrys, can move on.
I start typing a message. Notifications of incoming calls from him and Sabrina pop up at the top of my screen, but I just keep on typing. Add them to Dad’s message earlier of things I’m ignoring for the moment. It’ll be easier this way, and I hit send.
Sorry Olly. I had to leave. You haven’t done anything wrong – you were doing everything right.
But I was taking your eye off the competition.
I’m fine. I just don’t have what 257it takes to be a finalist. Say sorry to the other guys for me, but the show will be better without me anyway.
I don’t belong up there with the rest of you.
I’m safe (but wet). Get on with rehearsals. You need to be ready for tonight, okay?
The rain calms down, so I put my phone away, burying it at the bottom of my bag. It’s better if I don’t know when Olly has read the message. It’s time to get moving again.
I turn the corner onto the busy junction of Tottenham Court Road when I freeze.
‘Tarun Attri! What are you doing here?’
I double check I’m not imagining things. It can’t be.
Of all the streets in London, how could we end up on the same one. But the tied-back hair and narrowed eyes are unmistakably ones I know too well.
‘Mum?’