Epilogue - 6 Months Later Kris
“Mic check, mic check, 1,2,3.”
I give Jer the thumbs up from behind the soundboard and he makes his way offstage. Behind him a glittering sign reads “Congratulations Dave.”
Usually, Dave’s the one checking the equipment. But today Jer’s making sure the instruments are in place and the mics are working. I think he gets a kick out playing roadie for a night. It kind of give me the warm fuzzies as well. He’s doing much better now and even shows up here on nights when the bands aren’t total shit (his words) and gets coffee up front with Gramps.
He walks back to the soundboard and slaps me on the back with that damn ring. Ouch!
“The place looks good Skipper, you did well,” he say.
“But?”
“But you should really give Dave the night off. If you’re a bad boss, he’s going to kick your ass to the curb.”
“I told you, I’m not his boss. Ari is. And Dave wanted to finish his shift at the café before the party.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t do well with waiting.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Now go have fun. Eat some vegetables.”
He groans.
“Such a mother hen. Alright, I’ll eat them.”
He waves and heads back toward the food tables that line the walls. Tonight’s party at Club Rock Bottom will celebrate Dave selling his first script. It wasn’t that sexy space story he wrote months ago. That one got him an agent. This one was his follow up. It has a lot of the same elements: sci-fi and gay romance, but it’s smaller in scope and therefore more attractive to producers. Sounds like I know this Hollywood stuff, doesn’t it? Well, I’ve been really listening to Dave lately.
Along that line, this party will totally not be a surprise, because I now know that Dave is not a fan of surprises. He’s explained that there are to be no surprise guests, no surprise announcements, and no surprise proposals tonight or any other night. Damn, he knows me well. I’ll just have to ease into all the cool things I’d like to spring on him later.
“Where’s the guest of honor?” Gramps asks, looking over the silver screen-themed decorations as he makes his way towards the seating area. I get up from my perch and shake his hand.
“He’ll be here soon. He had to finish up his shift,” I explain again that Dave wanted work today.
“That sounds like Dave.” He pats my shoulder and heads towards the back.
Over the next twenty minutes, Ari, Nate, and the rest of the guests arrive. Chelsea created a special “All About Dave,” video that we’ll show before the band starts and now, she’s talking shop with Jules, Neil, and her other film school friends.
A middle-aged guy I’m guessing is Gil Radnor walks in. All the film people gasp when they see him, and everyone else has no clue who he is. From what Dave told me, Gil is a big deal writer and was instrumental in helping Dave land an agent. He still looks like a showbiz jackass to me with his slick back hair and blazer, but hell, if he’s willing to lend Dave a hand, he’s welcome here any time.
I check my phone. It’s 6:59. Dave should be here in thirty seconds. I close my eyes and count down until he’s here. And then he is; wrapping his arm around me and pulling me in for a light kiss. I turn towards him and open my eyes to see him smiling up at me. And it gives me butterflies. Just as strong as they were six months ago.
“Are you ready for your party?” I ask ruffling the soft strands of his hair.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. You know you didn’t have to do all this.”
“I wanted to. I’ve developed a taste for grand romantic gestures.” I pull him closer.
“Of all the things I expected when I met you, that wasn’t one of them.” He tries to roll his eyes but is grinning too hard.
“What did you think? That I was an irredeemable scumbag?” I pout.
“No. I thought you were entirely too hot and irritating to work with. How could I focus when you were right there smirking at me? I swear, I thought my insides would melt.” He gives me a meaningful squeeze.
“That can still be arranged.” My voice has gone low.
“What do you have in mind?” He raises his eyebrows.
“I’ll show you when we get home.” I kiss him lightly on the cheek.
“Mmmm…. I like how that sounds. But it’s going to be hard to wait.”
“I can make it harder,” I whisper in his ear.
“Kris.” He exhales my name like it’s a curse or a prayer. He’s definitely the answer to my prayers.
He holds me tight and tilts his head to kiss me. I meet his lips halfway for a slow, deep kiss. Full of promise, full of love, and so much heat that I might melt too.
“Get a room!” Jer shouts, and we laugh and pull apart, ready to enjoy the night, the music, and our lives together.
The End