35. Friend might be an overstatement #2
Mikayla and Hunter stepped off the carpet for a second time, and this time they continued walking.
Lorne, thankfully, stayed on the carpet waiting for his other clients as Joy trailed behind them.
Mikayla talked animatedly about how excited she was to present and how she hoped people laughed at the joke that had been written for them.
Hunter wasn’t listening, though, because now they were at the top of a winding staircase that overlooked the red carpet, and he could see Colby.
He was literally in the middle of the long red carpet.
He wasn’t in a standard suit. He was wearing a double-breasted satin cream shirt with pearl buttons and a wide lapel.
It was tucked into black dress pants that ended at cream loafers that looked like they might be suede.
The bottoms of them, Hunter noted, as Colby walked over to a camera for an interview, were Tiffany Blue.
Briar got a ten out of ten on his hair, which looked soft and product-less, but the way each curl flipped perfectly at the ends said otherwise. He literally took Hunter’s breath away.
“Are you okay? Anxiety?” Mikayla whispered in his ear, her dark eyes wide with concern as she flitted between his face and the hand he was pressing to his chest without realizing it.
Hunter blinked and glanced back down at Colby. He nodded. “Fine.”
He turned away, but it hurt so badly to walk away that it was physically painful.
Because fate was an evil bitch Colby was placed two rows in front of him and to the right.
The placement meant Hunter could spend the whole night staring at Colby’s handsome profile if he wanted.
And he wanted. Mikayla and Hunter presented, and it went well.
People cheered for them and laughed at their scripted banter, and then Mikayla handed the winner the award while Hunter shook their hand and beamed at their proud, teary-eyed smile, hoping one day to be in their position.
And then, just as he and Mikayla slipped back into their seats at the end of a commercial break, Colby and Hannah were announced to sing their nominated song.
The two walked on stage. Colby had Hannah’s hand in one hand and a guitar in the other.
Both had changed out of their fancy outfits.
Hannah was in a pair of jean shorts and a tank top with boots.
Colby was in a Fleetwood Mac T-shirt Hunter knew was his very own.
He’d seen him wear it in their apartment all the time.
He had on a familiar pair of Levis, but what made Hunter's heart stop was the backward baseball cap on his head. Because it was Hunter’s. And because it looked perfect on him.
He’d taken Hunter’s text advice from a while ago, and it was working.
People were murmuring appreciatively and smiling.
The dressed-down look went with the lyrics about pining and wishing you fit in, or better yet, that the world accepted you even though you didn’t.
Hannah and Colby shared a smile, and then he started strumming.
Hunter had to admit they sounded great together.
The audience of famous, typically self-absorbed people all stopped and stared in awe.
Hunter felt a swell of pride so big and so deep he could barely breathe.
When the song ended, they got a deafening round of applause.
He was clapping the loudest, and when others stood, he happily joined them.
When he sat back down, Mikayla was laughing, and he caught Lorne giving him a perturbed stare from his spot several rows back. Hunter pretended not to notice.
Colby slipped back into his seat on the next commercial break, back in his fancy clothes. He looked over his shoulder as he lowered himself, and their gazes snagged. Hunter smiled and winked. Colby smiled back, and his dimple made an appearance.
Forty minutes later, Hannah Wolfe and Colby Keaton won an Oscar.
Best Original Song. Hunter tried not to look like he felt.
He felt proud and excited and so fucking melancholy.
Hannah and Colby stood, hugged each other, and climbed the stairs together.
Hunter blinked rapidly to avoid getting watery eyes.
“I am beyond grateful I met this man. Thank you to our label and our management for putting us together,” Hannah said, shaking a little as she held the award in front of the slim microphone stand.
“He really was the genius behind this. So, I’m going to let him talk. Thank you for this amazing honor.”
Everyone clapped, and Colby stepped up to the mic.
His beautiful gray-blue eyes were big and cast downward on the award in his hand.
“Well, heck. I… in all my wildest dreams, I didn’t have this on my wish list, yet it’s the biggest honor of my life, so thank you.
Thanks to the Academy and to Magenta Studios for wanting to put this in their film.
My manager, Ford, for believing in me, and my bandmates in Tidal Kenner and Trev.
Thanks to Hannah for lending her talents to this.
I’ve always kinda felt like I was off. But it’s okay because off wins Oscars.
” The room rumbled with chuckles. “And also, I’ve found the best people pursuing this career, this crazy, unrealistic dream.
And those people…” His eyes darted up and locked with Hunter’s across the cavernous space.
Colby looked away and lifted the award. “Those people matter more than this award because I wouldn’t be here without them. Thank you.”
After the show ended, everything was chaos.
Colby wanted nothing more than to make his way to Hunter’s row and talk to him.
But apparently, when you win an Oscar, everyone wants to personally congratulate you and get selfies.
And touch it. And slip business cards in your pockets.
Jesus. By the time he was free to move, Hunter was gone.
He followed Hannah, her assistant Mary, and Ford out of the place.
“Back to the hotel to change and then the after parties, starting with the Governor’s Ball where they’ll engrave that puppy,” Ford said as he weaved his way through the swarms of people, and Colby followed, holding the Oscar in one hand and Hannah’s hand in the other so she didn’t get swallowed up.
Half the people were milling about like lost cattle, and the other half were beelining for the doors.
Back at the hotel, Briar was wearing the cutest, sexiest dress that looked like it was made of peacock feathers.
Her hair was loose and flowing down her back in crazy-but-perfect curls.
Kenner had shown up too. He’d snagged after-party invites and was taking Briar.
He was wearing some rock star outfit with a lot of buckles, and he looked great.
Briar retouched his hair after he changed into a more casual, but still designer, outfit.
After some celebratory champagne and a toast from Briar that made him teary-eyed, they hopped into waiting SUVs.
Only then did Colby check his phone. There were about forty messages, and he hated how his heart fluttered with something akin to happiness when he saw his mother’s name and Brodie’s mixed in among fellow musicians and music executives. He read their texts first.
Mom
I am screaming so loud the neighbors are sure to call the cops. YOU DID IT, BABY! My kid is an Oscar winner. I am so proud of you!
He blinked back tears. Damnit, he shouldn’t care what she thinks… right? But those last six words were something he’d never thought he’d get out of her—or anyone in his family—so when Brodie said it too, he lost the battle and a tear fell.
Brodie
Holy fuck Colby I’m so proud. Love you lil bro! So glad you listened to no one and followed your dream. Truly! Have the best fucking night.
He wiped the wayward tear quickly, but Briar clocked it and reached across the seat to grab his free hand. “Hunter?
“No. Mom and Brodie.”
She leaned in as he angled his phone for her to read. Her eyebrows shot up. “Well, hell, Mama Keaton is pulling her head out of her ass, huh? Christmas wasn’t a fluke.”
Colby just shrugged but nodded slowly because that seemed to be the case.
He had gone home for a couple of hours at Christmas, and his mother was like a different person.
She was attentive and loving, asking him detailed questions about his life and career throughout dinner.
So much so that Andy Keaton complained, and she told him he was welcome to eat somewhere else.
She heard Denny’s was open. Brodie and Colby’s jaw had hit the Persian rug.
Andy had shut up but scowled the entire meal.
Atlas and Gina had been eating at her parents’, but they showed up later.
His big announcement was that Gina was pregnant and he was being traded to a team in Texas.
Still in the minor leagues, but the pay would go further in Texas, and he thought there was a shot at the major league team there.
He never, not once, looked Colby in the eye, even when Colby earnestly congratulated the pair.
When Colby left, his mom had walked him to his car and hugged him tightly.
“If you need anything, even just to talk, you call me, okay?” She sniffled and let him go. “I think of you every single day. Know that, okay? I always did, but now I’m making sure you know it because it probably didn’t seem that way.”
“Why do you want to do this—change? Now?” Colby had to ask.