Lennox
“Wow, they spare no expense, do they?” I ask my manager, glancing around the lobby of the pristine building as we wait for the lift to descend.
“We’re in the most expensive building in Hollywood at the number one production studio in the entire world. What else would you expect?”
I shrug, because I don’t care about all of that. I just love performing and creating videos that are fun and engaging. It made my small world feel big. I had no idea those videos would catch on like they did, allowing me to become an actor amongst the A-listers in the industry.
I found a new love in acting and now I can’t imagine doing anything different, but I don’t exactly fit into this lifestyle. It’s a galaxy away from where I came from.
The lift doors ping open, echoing through the all-marble lobby. A small group of people walk out, all dressed in what I can only assume is high-end designer clothing—I glance at my digital Casio watch to double check the time—yeah, far too much bling to be wearing before 10:00 a.m.
They’re too involved in themselves to pay any attention to anyone else, so Graham and I slip by completely unnoticed. The scent of expensive perfume lingers in the lift and I chuckle to myself.
I still like Old Spice.
I don’t care about what people think of me.
I never have because I am who I am. All six foot three inches of my lean, tattooed body.
My twenty-eight years of life experience could go to war with some forty year olds and win by a landslide.
I saw more trauma and experienced more heartbreak in my childhood than most see in their lifetime.
So, no. I don’t care what you might think of who I’ve become based on my physical appearance.
The fact that I’m alive and breathing with a roof over my head, money in my bank account, and a good conscience, that’s enough for me.
I don’t know if this lifestyle is something I’ll ever get used to. The fame, the money. It makes me wonder what my co-star is going to be like in real life.
Is he going to be like how he’s displayed in the media? If I learned anything from the short amount of time I’ve been in the scene, it's that the media will spin anything the way they want and people eat it up.
I do know one thing. He’s a certified heartthrob. If America had a Prom King, they would crown him proudly and chant his name from the rafters.
I swear Britain has considered pulling my citizenship status based on my social media videos alone.
“Let’s go.” Graham exits the lift and gestures his arm toward the reception desk.
We’re greeted by a stunning young woman, and I blast on my natural smile as she leads us to the office where Pierre Martin is.
“Here you are.” She stands to her full height as she steps to the side of the door. Graham walks through first and I follow, but before I can thank her she bites the corner of her lip shyly, then whispers, “I’m off at five if you want to get a drink after.”
Looking over my shoulder, I watch her scurry off quickly as if she was embarrassed suggesting the date.
Her shyness is quite endearing and I can’t help but smile as she tucks herself back behind her desk.
Turning back around, my smile drops as I take in the four sets of eyes that are staring straight back at me.
Well, shit. This is a horrible start.
I peek down at my watch, noting I’m one minute early for our meeting, yet everyone is already here and comfortable, like the meeting started an hour ago.
When I glance back up, my eyes connect with the baby blues of the Prom King himself and I’m momentarily stunned.
He’s perfect.
Like, photoshop perfect.
His champagne blond hair is brushed back without a hair out of place, his skin is flawless and his cheek displays that stupid dimple that everyone finds adorable.
His piercing blue eyes trail down my body, then back up, pausing with a squint as he glances at my watch then back up to my face.
There’s an energy swirling between us I don’t understand, and when I look over at Pierre Martin for the first time, his eyes bounce between the two of us with a smug expression I also can’t interpret.
“Morning!” I manage to spit out. “I trust I’m on time?” I start to walk toward the rectangular table and Jace stands, showing that same predictable smile I’ve gotten to know in the media.
“Yeah, you’re good, we’re just getting started,” Jace replies, holding his hand out to me. “I’m Jace Wilder.”
So professional.
I can’t help my lopsided grin. He’s exactly like he is in interviews and how the media portrays him.
America’s golden boy.
“Lennox.” I slide my palm in his, and damn, the electric spark I feel makes my thumb involuntarily caress the back of his hand.
He pulls away quickly, nodding and clearing his throat as he sits back down.
Is he nervous? Hm, interesting.
He might look identical to his photos in person, but he’s completely different than I expected.
Reserved, shy, serious. Fucking gorgeous.
I finally rip my gaze away from him and turn to introduce myself to Pierre. His sole attention is on Jace with a curious expression as I reach my hand out toward him.
“Mr. Martin, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stands, shakes my hand then we mirror each other as we sit down. My chair is placed close to Jace and I don’t bother moving it.
“I’ve never worked with either one of you before but I want to make certain you understand my expectations.” His French accent is as thick as the tension in the room.
“I promise to do my best for you and dedicate everything to the making of this movie. I expect the same in return. Your characters are your priority. Their relationship is a priority.”
Jace and I share a look and nod awkwardly, agreeing with him.
“We’re filming for three months in three different locations. The team will coordinate everything for you. I need your full focus to be on these two characters and each other. They’re the most complicated and intricate personalities I’ve ever written and their story deserves to be told.”
I think everyone in the world has heard of, or at least listened to, Iron Horizon at some point in their lifetime. I know I’ve always appreciated their music. James Davis and Ryan Wilson were pioneers in the 80s rock movement, but their crazy lifestyle made them incredibly controversial.
The drugs and rumors of sex and orgies. Women, and men, were heard to frequent their after-concert parties resulting in what I can only assume would be a PR nightmare.
At least back in that day the media wasn’t at your fingertips and that kind of news didn’t spread so quickly or widely. It wasn’t until a few photos of James and Ryan kissing, naked, and in bed together surfaced that really caused the downfall of their fame.
Sure, the music was great. But being gay, or even bisexual back then, was so taboo and frowned upon. Some radio stations banned them, parents forbid their kids to listen to them. A sad, but true, part of our history.
Even now, as widely accepted as queer love is, there’s still judgment and shaming that happens.
Jace and I have been sitting stiffly next to each other, peering out of the corner of our eyes at one another, trying to take in everything Pierre is saying.
He’s going over the logistics of filming, the locations, his vision.
He’s intense, but I know working with him will be a once in a lifetime opportunity.
“James and Ryan became the most popular rock duo of a decade and fell in love with each other in the process. We need to feel that. The yearning, the tension, the love. Oui!” Pierre adds with passion.
A smile spreads across my face because I respond to the energy around me and I love how expressive he is. Jace doesn’t react with the same excitement. His eyes flicker in my direction, but then down to the floor, avoiding my gaze like he couldn't bear the thought of looking at me.
It feels fucking awkward. I know it’s the first time we’ve met and recently the media’s part time job has been to pick us apart, especially after my Silver Screen win over him last year, but fuck. We can’t film a movie like this.
I can’t help my thoughts from straying knowing how different our lives have been. He grew up in this. His mother practically attached at his hip on press tours and award ceremonies.
I wonder what it feels like to have that kind of support. To be loved and cared for the way he has been his whole life. To have a family.
His eyes bounce up to me quickly, then retreat as if he’s annoyed that I’m in his presence and I can’t help but roll my eyes at the dismissal.
The media has done a fabulous job blindly building up our judgment of each other and right now he’s living up to the hype.
As if Pierre can hear my thoughts, he pauses, and both of us turn our gazes in his direction. He takes us both in, his eyes bouncing back and forth between us, then shakes his head. “This will not do.”
“What?” I spit out, as Jace sits up straighter.
Pierre waves a finger between the two of us.
My stomach plummets to my toes. I’ve been so fucking excited about this movie, this role, because it speaks to me like nothing else has.
The character I’m portraying battled with his drug addiction and sexuality for years, something I can relate to on a molecular level. I want this so badly.
If it seems like we can’t get along or make it work he’ll easily pick Jace for this instead of me. He’s reliable and experienced and he brings a massive fanbase.
Jace finally looks at me with the same conclusion I’ve come to. It could come down to only one of us if we don’t figure this out.
“We start filming next week. You will go to my cabin until then and get to know each other. Just the two of you.”