Chapter 20
Ezra
Grayson unpacks the last of his books as I make us a quick lunch in the kitchen overlooking the living room. He hums to himself every so often, stopping to read a line here or there or simply stroking over a spine.
My lips twitch, my chest ballooning as it’s been doing ever since Grayson agreed to move in with me weeks ago. I figured he’d prefer it to the reverse. His old home… Well, it was full of memories I think he’d rather part with.
The front door opens without a knock, slamming shut a moment later. Our agent’s voice rings out before he’s even in view. “You’re really going through with this?”
Shawn stops at the entrance to the living area, looking between me and Grayson. Grayson’s head is out of his books now, and he stands with a resigned sigh.
“Well, hello, Shawn,” I greet, grabbing an extra plate. “So nice of you to drop by.”
His lips purse, and he struts forward, taking a seat at the island in front of me. “I asked you to wait. ”
“And I said no,” I retort, giving him the ghost of a smile.
“We need to get ahead of this. Put out a statement. Plan an announcement on our end that you and Grayson are—”
“No,” I repeat, sliding him a plate piled with buffalo wings and fries, blue cheese dressing on the side. At his look of abject horror, I say, “Filming is done. Enjoy the calories with me.”
“I can not eat like you do and still fit in my clothes,” he says, inching the plate away.
Grayson takes a seat beside him at the island, digging into his own meal. I shoot him a pleased smile.
Shawn lets out a big gust of a sigh. “If we don’t control the narrative, rumors are going to fly rampant. You two need to announce that you’re in a relationship—”
“Gray and I are not in a relationship,” I tell the man for the umpteenth time. “Not the kind you’re thinking.”
Shawn’s shoulders deflate. His eyes ping to Grayson, who’s immersed in his food, before coming back to me.
“Drop the act. It’s the twenty-first goddamn century.
Are you two going to get flak for this? Yes.
Big time. You—” He points to me. “Are one of the biggest movie stars on the fucking planet. And Grayson is right there behind you. You’ll have fans who won’t like it, but you’ll have plenty of people rooting for you.
If I can’t convince you to keep this hidden, which apparently I cannot…
” He pauses, flourishing a hand around at our now commingling possessions.
“Then let me set the fucking narrative from the start. You two are in a loving, committed relationship. You’ve always been friends but it wasn’t anything more until recently.
Grayson wasn’t fucking around behind his wife’s back, and you two are going to be the picture of a happy, gay, monogamous couple. Got it?”
Grayson speaks up, his voice calm. “We’ve never fucked.”
Shawn’s wide eyes shift to me .
I shrug. “We haven’t. I told you—it’s not like that.”
Our agent shoots out of his seat, pacing around the kitchen. “Then what the ever-loving fuck are you two doing? How is this worth the shitstorm coming our way?”
I slam my hands down on the counter, and Shawn jolts. “It’s worth it to us. Him . And me .” I aim a finger between Grayson and myself. “It’s our life, Shawn. Let us live it.”
He breathes heavily for a moment. Grayson, for his part, is eating a buffalo wing.
“You expect people to believe you’re two bachelor friends shacking up and nothing more?” Shawn asks, shaking his head. “They won’t.”
“I don’t care,” I tell him, taking my own plate over to the other side of the island. I plop down next to Grayson, Shawn at my back. “It doesn’t matter what people think. It doesn’t matter what they say.”
“And your careers?” he asks, walking around to the front of us. “You’ll lose opportunities because of this.”
I open my hands wide. “There’ll be others. Like you said, I’m the biggest movie star on the planet. If someone doesn’t want to work with me because I’m queer, well…I can’t say I want to work with them either.”
“One of,” Shawn says tiredly, scrubbing his eyes. “I said you’re one of the biggest movie stars. Not the biggest.”
I huff.
“And you?” Shawn asks Grayson. “You’re willing to risk your career for him? Some guy you’re not even fucking, apparently?”
Grayson lifts his gaze steadily, his blue eyes like the calmest ocean. “I’d risk everything for him. ”
Shawn throws his hands into the air once more, storming a step away before coming back. “You two are making a mistake. The biggest one of your careers. Of your lives .”
“And yet, somehow, I’m still smiling,” I point out, grinning Shawn’s way.
He looks near murderous, although I know underneath it he has our best interests at heart. He’s been a good agent to us both, and he didn’t blink twice at the news that Grayson was moving in. He simply went into damage control mode. On top of trying to stop us a good dozen times.
But what he can’t seem to understand is that I’m done playing to other people’s expectations.
I grew up in a time where being bi wasn’t talked about or readily accepted.
It was barely understood. It’s different now, and the world needs more queer representation in mainstream media.
So I’ll lose the support of a bunch of homophobic or biphobic assholes.
Big deal. Maybe I’ll even lose my standing in cinema.
But I’ve been doing this for nearly thirty years. I think it’s time I play myself for once.
“What if I release a statement that Grayson is staying temporarily on the heels of his divorce?” Shawn asks, a last-ditch effort to control the story.
“I’m not gonna lie,” I tell him.
He groans. “You two are going to have to face the music at some point. Some paparazzi is going to catch Grayson coming or going, and the stories will start. People will speculate. You’ll be hounded.”
“We’ll deal with it when it happens.”
“Fine,” Shawn says, voice clipped. “If you’re determined to implode like dying goddamn stars, by all means. I’ll be in touch. ”
Grayson waits until the front door slams to speak. “I don’t think he likes us very much.”
I snort. “He likes us fine. He doesn’t like not being able to do his job. And this… Well. It’ll cause problems.”
Grayson chews his lip for a moment, his plate mostly clean. “Should we care more? About how this affects others?”
I scoff. “We’re not harming anyone with our actions, so no. We damn well should not.”
Grayson chuckles lightly. “You’ve got a bee in your bonnet about this.”
“In my bonnet?” I question. “Really?”
“If you had one, there’d be a bee in there. You’re on the warpath, Ez.”
I shrug, putting the remnants of our meal in the fridge. “Yeah, well. Maybe I’ve realized there are some things worth fighting for.”
He doesn’t argue against that, but I can feel his gaze following me.
“Have you told Madison?” I ask. “Camilla?”
“Yeah. Madison wasn’t shocked, exactly, but I can tell she has questions. Camilla is…angry.”
I try to keep my thoughts about that to myself, but Grayson must see something on my face because he goes on.
“My ex will be fine once she’s had time to think about it. Right now, she’s reacting on instinct. She’s hurt, and it’s easier to assume I might have been unfaithful all these years than to accept the fact that we simply were never going to last.”
“You shouldn’t have started,” I say under my breath, regretting the words immediately.
He doesn’t disagree. “No, but it brought me Madison. And I’ll never regret that.”
I let out a sigh. “Me, neither. ”
Grayson is quiet for a moment. “She never hated you, you know. Camilla. She likes you, and I think that makes it harder.”
“Because I stole so much of your time.”
“Yeah.”
I nod, putting Grayson’s plate in the dishwasher before washing my hands. Leaning against the counter, I watch my friend. “People will assume you’re bi. Or, hell, even gay. That you were closeted.”
Grayson doesn’t flinch. “We already talked about this.”
“And we’re going to talk about it more. I want to make sure you’ve considered every angle.”
His lips curve into a bemused smile. “Really, Ez? You think I’m going to change my mind now, after I’ve already moved all my shit in?”
I roll my eyes, but he’s not done.
“You’ve been full speed ahead since the moment you suggested this. What changed? Why are you doubting now?”
“I’m not doubting,” I tell him truthfully. “It’s just… This will impact you, Gray. Heavily. You didn’t spend your life considering the implications of coming out as I have. And no matter the truth, people will assume. You’ll be labeled and treated differently. And it won’t always be kind.”
Grayson lets out a slow breath, his large shoulders shifting as he sets his elbows on the countertop.
Whereas I’ve always had to work to maintain my muscle, Grayson doesn’t have to try.
He’s not heavily bulked. He’s just…big. Combined with the dark auburn hair and freckles across his nose, he makes an impression.
“Ez, I’ve always been different. People just didn’t know it. Let them think what they want.”
“Like I said, they’ll think you’re queer.”
“I’m nothing. ”
I make a displeased sound at that.
Grayson only chuckles. “Stop. You know what I mean.”
I puff out a breath. “What will you say? If they ask?”
“The truth. That I’ve never had a preference for any specific gender.”
“Then they’ll probably go with pansexual.”
He shrugs. “I suppose that’s as accurate as it gets. My lack of preference is certainly equal opportunity.”
I study my friend, his gaze watching me back closely.
Finally, he blinks. “Ez. If you don’t care, neither do I. We’ve already covered this.”
I nod slowly before holding out my hand. “To upsetting every major news agency, directors around the world, dissolving fan clubs, and destroying our images in the process.”
He snorts, but he clasps my palm. “Destroying? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”
“What did Shawn say? Something about imploding?”
Grayson’s lips pull up at the corner. “Like dying stars.”
“Is that what they do?” I ask, knowing full well he’ll have an answer. At Grayson’s raised eyebrow, I urge him on. “C’mon, you know you want to tell me.”
He lets out a sigh like he’s summoning patience, but I know there’s almost nothing he’d rather talk about.
“When a star burns all its available fuel, it no longer has the energy to fight its own gravitational pull. It collapses in on itself, the result sometimes devastating. It can create a black hole. It can white out an entire galaxy for weeks on end. It can birth new life. New stars. It’s… cataclysmic. Ruinous and miraculous.”
The awe in Grayson’s tone has goose bumps spreading up my arms. “In that case, if we’re gonna go out with a bang one way or another, might as well make it a big one, yeah? ”
Grayson shakes his head, but he’s smiling, his hand still clasped with my own. I give it a swift kiss before letting go.
“Come on, Mr. Fox. We still need to set up your bedroom.”
With a nod, Grayson follows me down the hall, most of the house on this floor.
There’s also a spacious basement with another living area, a gym, and an indoor sauna.
His bedroom is across the hall from mine, nearly as large as my own, with a bathroom just next door.
He’s using the bedframe I had in here before, but we moved his mattress in, the old one now propped against the wall until someone can come take it away.
The dresser was already here, but Grayson added his own chair in the corner for reading, and the rest of his possessions are sitting in boxes beside the bed.
We go through each box carefully, fitting the sheets to his mattress, putting away his clothes, hanging up a couple pictures. Madison features prominently in those.
When I pull a frame from a box I haven’t seen in years, I go still. Grayson pauses as well, his gaze snagging on me and the picture.
I was with him when he found this. Grayson saw a sign for an estate sale, and, as fascinated as he is with old antiques and the like, we stopped and went in.
Grayson and I were upstairs looking through the bedrooms when he opened a chest and made a sound I’d never heard from him before. Like pain, almost. An exquisite kind. When he stood back up, it was with this picture in hand. He was crying. I’ll never forget that.
Grayson’s voice is quiet now. “I couldn’t get rid of it.”
I shake my head. Of course not.
The picture is old. Very old. There’s no writing on the back or indication of when or where it came from, but our best estimate based on the clothes and style of furniture is the mid to late 1800s.
There’s one person standing in view, in front of an elaborate four-poster bed, a wooden vanity off to the side with a low stool in front.
The picture is black-and-white. Faded. And the serene smile on the man’s face…
I swallow hard, taking him in all over again.
The stranger could certainly be called beautiful, but the pose is beyond bold for the times, I’m sure.
He’s wearing an open shirt, his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
His hair is short, dark, and he’s lithe, although not exactly young when this was taken.
In fact, he’s probably close to our age.
Late forties or possibly early fifties. Along the bottom of his flat chest, in two slightly curving arcs, are a smattering of stars. Tattoos, as black as night.
I run my finger over the glass. “Your star-boy.”
“Yeah.” Grayson takes the picture gently from my hand, his breath stuttering as he looks at it. “I know it makes no sense, but I know him, Ez. I feel it when I look at this picture. I know him. I just wish… I wish I knew who he was.”
My throat is tight as Grayson sets the frame in a place of honor atop his dresser. He stands there for a long moment, looking at it.
“Perfect,” I tell him.
He gives me a small smile before grabbing a box of toiletries to bring to the bathroom. I stay for a minute longer, staring at Grayson’s star-boy. I know my friend has always felt a connection to the man in the picture.
But me? I can’t help but wonder who’s standing out of frame. Who it was that put that smile on his face.
Maybe one day we’ll figure it out. Or maybe some things are simply meant never to be known.