Epilogue
A year later
River was acting his heart out. He was trying to look completely comfortable, unconcerned about what the evening might bring, just appearing happy to be there, while frantically talking himself down from the idea that he might be going home with an Oscar.
He really didn’t think it was going to happen, but every time someone passed him and patted his back or caught his eye and wished him good luck, he felt a surge of hope, a flicker of possibility and had to quickly knock some sense into himself again.
“Are you all right?” Newt asked quietly.
Newt had the uncanny ability to know when he wasn’t.
River shot him a smile. “I’m wondering if I should go to the loo before it starts.”
“Need a hand?” Newt licked his lips.
River laughed and pushed to his feet. “Yes, but no.”
As he moved away, a sitter slid into River’s aisle seat next to Newt.
It was like musical chairs, spotters on alert for people leaving their places ready to direct someone to fill the space.
At all times, the venue had to look full.
River passed a line of well-dressed sitters as he headed for the bathroom. Unpaid work but highly prized.
To his amazement, River had won a BAFTA for Medway Boys and been nominated for a Golden Globe but missed out to the actor he thought would probably get the Oscar tonight. Alex Morgan was in his fifties, beloved by many, had been nominated three times and never won. River was a gay upstart.
Max had railed publicly about the ongoing issue of openly gay actors not receiving awards, let alone getting some of the roles they deserved and how it was time things changed. There had been a lot in the press about it. Times were changing, but not quickly.
He practised his smile before he went back to his seat. The one that said I’m so pleased for you. I never thought I had a chance. You were brilliant in… whatever film they’d been in. Probably Journey if it was Alex Morgan.
River thanked the sitter as he gave up the seat, then made sure he brushed Newt’s arm as he dropped down next to him.
Max leaned across Newt. “No more to drink.”
River immediately reached for the bottle of water under his seat and drank some. Though Max was right. He didn’t want to miss a thing running back to the bathroom.
The evening started with a lavish musical performance followed by the host, a comedian River didn’t usually find funny, warming up the audience.
The first award was a big one to set the tone.
Best Supporting Actor. Omid Bakri, River’s counterpart in Medway Boys, had a nomination, though he wasn’t a favourite to win.
Max had been pissed off at Omid’s nomination but only because it lessened River’s chances of winning.
Apparently Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor had gone to the same film only six times in Academy Awards history.
Prior to coming into the main part of the theatre, River had seen Omid in one of the green rooms with his mum and dad.
He and Omid had hugged each other and had a short conversation.
River knew his parents hadn’t been happy about their son playing the role of a gay man.
He wondered if the chance of Omid winning an Oscar had changed that.
When they’d started filming Medway Boys Omid had told River that he wasn’t gay, and River had said the same thing, though he’d wondered if Omid was lying.
Their onscreen chemistry had been electric and the scene where Omid had come out to his parents had been phenomenal.
When Omid’s name was announced as the winner, River leapt to his feet and applauded loudly. He was genuinely thrilled for him, almost relieved that his chances of winning had now significantly reduced. It took the pressure off.
Omid made a short speech, thanking everyone in the world, including River, and the show went on.
And on.
And on.
“My hands hurt,” Newt said in his ear.
River laughed. “So do mine.”
“I don’t know if I’ll have the energy to clap for you. Sorry.”
“It won’t be me.”
Max reached across Newt and squeezed River’s fingers. River turned to him.
“You deserve it,” Max mouthed.
River could almost feel the rise in anticipation. The big four awards were coming. Starting with Best Actor.
“Oh God, oh God,” Newt was muttering at his side.
He was more on edge than River.
“Can I stand up and object if you don’t win?”
“Because that will go down so well.”
Newt laughed. “You’re going to win. I know you are.”
“No, I’m not. I know I’m not.”
“You’ll see.” Newt elbowed him.
River listened as the nominations for Best Actor were read out and clips shown from the films they were in.
His was the last clip. It felt surreal to hear himself included with such famous actors.
The section chosen from Medway Boys was where he’d stepped in to protect Omid from some thugs, then opened his heart.
He thought Alex Morgan would get it for his part in a film about a road trip made by a father and son. Alex played the son with early onset dementia travelling with his much older father. The film was touching and ticked all the right boxes.
River felt surprisingly calm. He was ready to smile, poised to applaud the winner. The metallic gold envelope was opened and his heart jumped a little in his chest. Because…
“And the winner is…”
It probably wasn’t long before the next words emerged but it felt a lifetime.
“River Lawson for Medway Boys.”
River had started to clap for Alex Morgan before he registered that wasn’t the name he’d heard. Newt caught hold of one of his hands and stopped him.
“You won!” Newt was smiling at him.
River stood up, bent down and kissed Newt full on the lips. He wasn’t actually sure he could walk to the stage without his knees giving way, but he somehow found himself up there, holding the gold-plated statuette. Fuck! How did I manage that?
Don’t say fuck. River looked out into a sea of faces, and found Newt in that sea, his beautiful eyes wide and bright.
He took a deep breath. “Wow. I won.”
Everyone laughed. Maybe because River was genuinely stunned, or maybe because the audience was too.
“Thank you. Truly. I won’t stand here and read a long list of those I need to thank, but please know that everyone involved with the film, everyone who’s helped me get here, those who believed in me when I didn’t, then you’re all part of this moment.
This belongs to you too. Even you, Max, my pain-in-the-neck agent, friend and father when I needed one. ”
He steadied himself. “After I was injured filming Cloud Fall, my life stopped. Not slowed. Stopped. Broken arms. Broken legs. Broken ribs. A broken skull. A traumatic brain injury.” He swallowed hard. “I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying.”
The room was absolutely silent and still.
“Some things came back. My mind. My body. But my voice didn’t. And if it hadn’t been for Newt…”
River’s breath hitched. He took a moment to make sure his voice wouldn’t break when he next spoke. Then he looked straight at Newt who sat biting his lip. River didn’t look away.
“If it hadn’t been for Newt… He sat with me when I couldn’t say a thing other than two words I shouldn’t say beginning with f and o…
” That raised a laugh. “And somehow, he made me feel understood. He taught me how to speak. He taught me how to read and write. He taught me to be grateful for what I had. But more than that, he made me see the value in life when I wasn’t sure it had any value for me. ”
River released a shaky breath. “Recovery was a long road. A brutal one. One that even included someone trying to kill me. Newt saved my life. More than once.
“In a way, Newt and I became a pair of real-life Medway Boys. We both had darkness in our pasts. Newt’s was public.
Mine was not. But it didn’t remain private for long.
We both lost our families but I was lucky.
I had Max. Then Max found Newt for me. And somewhere, along the way together, friendship turned into love. ”
Oh God. “I used to think love was something you came to after everything else worked out. I was wrong. Love is what carries you through. Love hurts. Love heals. Love gives you a reason to keep breathing when you’re not sure you can.
Without my love for Newt, and Newt’s love for me, I wouldn’t be here.
Thank you for this honour. I’m very grateful.
But what I’m most grateful for is that I’m still around.
That I can speak. That I can say this out loud. ”
His voice broke.
“Thank you for giving me my voice back. For reminding me that I’m still here. That I matter. And that life, even in all its brokenness, can still be incredibly beautiful. Thank you for this.”
He held up the award and walked back to his seat with applause ringing in his ears.
Newt was crying when he reached him. River pulled him into his arms and kissed him again.
When Misha Denning won best director for Medway Boys, River put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.
Misha talked about films opening hearts, making people think about their lives and where they were going, and how Medway Boys did all of that.
He thanked the studio, the cast, the crew, the man who’d written the book, his parents, his siblings…
He was gracious and River hoped he’d not sounded too self-indulgent when he’d spoken.
Then Medway Boys won best picture and it felt as if the theatre exploded. River was back on the stage along with Connor, the producer, Omid, Misha and a couple of other key members of the crew.
Bloody hell! What a night!
~~~