37. The damage is already done #2
Colby got in his car after handing the valet a ten and drove out into the Sunset Boulevard traffic.
He had a busy day of house hunting, which should make his heart happy, but all he could think about was how Hunter was doing.
Until the day he died, he would never forget the way Hunter’s face fell while he sat naked on that hotel room bed talking to his dad.
It was so swift and so complete. His eyes darkened, his skin paled, his jaw melted into his neck.
It was like a building crumbling brick by brick.
After briefly telling Colby his mom was in the hospital and it looked bad, he dressed and tore out of the room without even saying goodbye, which Colby understood, but he’d longed to hug him and rub his back and whisper words of strength.
He had only talked to him twice since that night.
Hunter texted him to tell him his mom was terminal now.
Colby had called him immediately, but Hunter hadn’t picked up.
He’d texted back and told Hunter he was there—any time, day or night—if Hunter should call or text or anything.
Whatever he needed, Colby was there. Hunter had responded with a blue heart emoji.
He knew Hunter was back at work now. He’d seen a paparazzi shot of him at the airport in Croatia.
The entertainment news was spinning this into Hunter being difficult to work with because he’d delayed the production schedule by staying in Montreal for a couple of weeks.
Colby didn’t understand why he wasn’t letting his people tell the world his mom was dying.
Why was the studio letting the narrative be Hunter Law is making this difficult?
He met with his real estate agent, Cindy, who showed him three properties.
None of them knocked his socks off. He had only forty minutes to get to the studio.
The Tidal recording session would start at four sharp and probably run until midnight.
They’d discovered they worked better later in the day, mostly because Trevor was comatose any time before 2:00 pm.
The fact that he showed up to the meeting relatively alert this morning was a miracle.
And the fact that he was basically defending Colby being gay and challenging why he couldn’t be out was pretty much a sign of the apocalypse.
Or a sign he was on drugs, like Kenner guessed.
“Colby, did you hear me?” Cindy said in a lighthearted but chastising way.
“What? No. Sorry.” Colby lifted his Wayfarers into his hair so Cindy could see the embarrassment in his eyes. “I have a lot going on, and I flaked. Sorry.”
“I was saying there’s a new listing that my colleague just emailed me. She’s at the property now, and it ticks all your boxes,” Cindy told him.
“I have to be at the studio soon. Can we arrange to see it tomorrow, maybe?”
Cindy frowned. “It’s not public yet Colby, and I think it will be gone the second it’s listed. It’s historically registered. A perfectly preserved mid-century modern. In your price range. We can walk to it from here. It’s just around the bend on Brier Drive.”
Colby blinked. “Where?”
“Brier Drive.”
Colby wasn’t stupid enough to pass on a house with the same name as his best friend. Fate could be pretty obvious, he was learning, and maybe he should start paying attention.
Hunter couldn’t stop staring at the headlines.
Because he couldn’t stop googling himself.
It was like driving by a train wreck and circling around and around to keep doing it.
Brendan munched happily on a bag of peanut butter pretzels and watched the hockey game.
“Fucking Habs are going all the way this year.”
“I wish. That gargoyle of a league commissioner would never let it happen,” Hunter muttered. “He hates Canadian-based teams. Not enough money in the market.”
Brendan scoffed. “You Canadians have such imposter syndrome.”
“Nah, dude. Not when it comes to hockey,” Hunter returned and then swore under his breath.
TMZ reported that Hunter was seen leaving a suite at the Beverly Wilshire the morning after the Oscars, and that it was not his suite.
Later that day, his people contacted Magenta Studios, saying the actor would not be reporting to set as scheduled.
The comments were a dumpster fire of insults and accusations and… oh good racism.
Bex9980: I bet it was Tidal’s suite and he was doing the walk of shame from his gay lover. rotflmao
Nutrag8rl: He probably realized he’s the most overhyped pos actor on the planet and decided to save us all and quit.
HomieHomer6969: I thought Asians loved working. This one’s lazy?
PPlanetLuver4Ever: They’re trying to out him? I’d hide too. Love is love who cares? He’s hot and can act. F off.
Texa$Kent: If he’s a homo good he’s MIA. Nobody’ll believe a superhero is a c0cksucker. Give the role to a real man and reshoot.
“Oh my God, make it stop,” Hunter groaned and finally turned off his phone.
Brendan moved his eyes from the TV. “What’s happening?”
“Everyone is shitting all over me for delaying this film,” Hunter replied and sank deeper into the pillows on his bed. “And then there’s all the people that think Colby and I are a thing because we hugged at the Oscars.”
“Yeah dude because that was like a romantic climax of a hug,” Brendan said, chuckling as he reached for his can of Coke Zero on the coffee table in front of him.
“You both popped some major heart eyes and gripped each other like one of you’d just gotten back from war.
It was lovely. It was sweet. It wasn’t straight. ”
“It…” Hunter had never told Brendan his sexuality. But Brendan was with him when he met Leandra. “It was that bad?”
“That good,” Brendan corrected.
“No one in this industry thinks that’s good,” Hunter reminded Brendan.
“Yeah. We gotta change that. The future filmmakers and shit.” Brendan paused to chomp on another pretzel. He studied Hunter with his pale blue eyes. “It’ll be okay, dude. You’re not going to come out, and no one cares unless you admit it.”
“My agent cares. The studio.”
“They won’t in the long run. It’ll all blow over, and it’ll be fine.
” Brendan glanced at the screen again, checking the score.
“And when you get famous enough, you’ll hire me, and I’ll shoot your star into the next galaxy with my incredible directing prowess, and then you can be whatever the hell you want.
Date who you want. Make heart eyes at all the boys you want.
Because I’m not gonna let the old cis het white assholes run their show like this anymore. ”
“You’ve got my vote for president of Hollywood,” Hunter snarked. “Stop campaigning.”
He checked his text to make sure he hadn’t missed one from his dad.
His mom was home from the hospital, and his dad was staying with her.
His previous message said she was in good spirits and didn’t seem to be in pain.
They’d walked Manuel around the block earlier.
He closed his eyes. “And I don’t want to make heart eyes at all the boys.
Just him. One day. In public without a media shitstorm. ”
“Aww…” Brendan cooed. “I love love.”
“Sometimes it fucking sucks.”
And as if to prove the point to himself, he reached for his phone again to text Colby.
Hey.
His response came immediately, as if he had been staring at his screen.
Colby
Hey. How are you? How’s your mom?
Still waiting to get approved to die. It’s like waiting for your college acceptance letter but a thousand times more depressing.
Colby
I wish I could make this better.
Me too.
He held his breath and steadied himself for what he had to do.
But what we’re actually doing is making it worse.
Colby
***
The media frenzy over the hug. It’s fucking with everything. Studio is already annoyed about me taking a break.
Colby
Your mom is dying! Fuck them for not understanding.
I know. But they even sent her flowers. But like, it’s cost them. And now this. Us. It’s bad publicity.
Colby
I want to be offended but yeah. I know. I got hauled into a meeting with the label about it.
See? We’re fucking up our own careers.
Colby
I think we gotta try to be friends. I was miserable before. We’re friends right? Bottom line. Above all else. So let’s be friends.
Come on Colbs, we’ll fuck up. Emphasis on the fuck part.
Colby
I was miserable before.
Me too. But we didn’t try hard enough.
Hunter glanced at the TV because Brendan had let out a hoot. The Montreal Canadiens were ahead now. He didn’t bother to tell Brendan the game was a rebroadcast because of time zones, and he could just Google the score. He glanced back at his phone. Colby hadn’t responded.
I have a lot of pressure. This movie is huge.
If I get any more questionable press, it’ll tank it.
And my career. I won’t get any more roles offered to me.
And my mom is dying, Colbs. She has to leave here knowing I’m okay.
I’ve been her biggest worry for way too long.
I have to show her, so she can rest easy.
One of his tears dropped onto the screen, and he took a second to gather his composure. He would not be a blubbering mess. He wouldn’t. He could do that later. When the movie was done and she was gone. Fuck.
You get it right? I swear it’s not personal. And you know how I really feel. You do. I just can’t fuck this all up. Neither can you.
Colby
I understand what you’re saying.
But it sucks. I know.
Colby
Yup. Take care of yourself Hunter.
You too Colbs. I’m sorry.
Colby
Me too.