Chapter 38
It was time to get out of the limousine. Patrick watched numbly as Corey climbed out first, then Hector, who held out his hand and assisted Audra’s exit from the car in one single, fluid, ladylike motion. Through the open door, Patrick could see the Chinese Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard. This was it. Everything he had been working toward. What he usually thought of as the absolute best part of his job, when he and everyone he worked with were finally able to share their labor of love with the rest of the world.
And yet all he wanted to do was stay in the car.
Patrick turned to Will, hating how helpless he felt.
“I wish we had more time,” he said.
“It’s OK,” Will told him. “Go. Do the red carpet thing. We can talk after.”
He smiled encouragingly, and Patrick never wanted to look away. Will was really here. In LA.
“I’ll arrange a seat for him in the screening,” said Simone. She looked, by every measurable Simone standard, sincere. Patrick looked across at her for a moment, wondering if she had meant everything she’d said about supporting him if he took the plunge. Or if she would cynically cut him loose the way so many other managers had when their clients stopped playing by the rules of an unwinnable game.
“Snacks are on me when we get inside,” Patrick told Will. “Best popcorn in the world, remember?”
“It’s a date.”
He squeezed Will’s knee and kept his hand there, taking in how solid he felt. Drive, he wanted to shout. Take us far away from here, I don’t care where. There is no place on earth I could not be happy with this man.
Patrick forced himself up and out of the limo, following Simone to the small patch of cordoned-off space that preceded the red carpet proper, where reporters and photographers clamored. He hung back at the edge of the carpet while Audra took center spot, escorted by Hector, and watched her posing for the cameras, pretending to laugh at something Hector whispered in her ear, America’s sweetheart from head to glittering toe.
Then it was his turn.
Patrick straightened his tux, glancing down just long enough to notice for the first time where he was standing. The red carpet had been laid over almost the entire historic front courtyard of the Chinese Theatre, obscuring the handprints and signatures of some of the biggest names in Hollywood royalty. But here, at the edge, some of those stones were still visible. Patrick’s legs very nearly gave out as he read the autograph beneath his feet.
Rock Hudson.
Patrick didn’t believe much in signs or omens. He did not visit a psychic or get energy healing, nor did he make decisions based on tarot or entrust his fate to crystals. But when the entire cosmos cried out for a man to take a damn hint, only a fool would refuse to listen.
“Will!” he called, turning back to the car. “Will!”
“What’s going on?” asked Will as Patrick clambered back into the limousine, breath short and heart racing.
“Did I ever tell you why I auditioned for Captain Kismet?” he asked, sidling up so that he was practically on top of Will.
“What? Patrick, you need to get out there.”
“I always thought I had something in common with him,” said Patrick, ignoring Will’s protests. “That alter ego, you know? The persona that Richard Ranger took on when he needed to be strong. I’ve been pretending to be some version of that my whole life. I figured I had a pretty good idea of where Kismet was coming from. But I was wrong. These last few months, I’ve found myself channeling someone else.”
Will narrowed his eyes. “Who?”
Patrick laughed. Will knew damn well, but he wanted to hear Patrick say it. And he should say it. He should be racing to the top of the nearest, tallest building and proclaiming it to the entire city.
“You,” he said. “You’re my better self. You’re the person I think of when I need to be funny or brave or strong. I’m trying to summon some of that strength right now because I have something to tell you that I have never told anyone before.”
He took a breath.
“I love you, too, Will Wright,” he said.
Will’s eyes filled with tears, and Patrick leaned in for a kiss…and flinched as his thigh was slapped. Quite hard.
“You couldn’t have said that before you got out of the car?” Will exclaimed. “I’ve been sitting here having the world’s best-dressed nervous breakdown.”
“I’m sorry!” Patrick said. “But it’s true. I’m in love with you, Will, more than you will probably ever know. And you’re right. I should have said it sooner. You shouldn’t have had to fly halfway around the world to hear me say it. But now that you’re here…” He held out his hand and nodded to the open doorway. “Come with me.” He grinned.
Will, eyebrow raised, took his hand, and allowed himself to be helped up out of the car.
“Where exactly do you think you’re going with me?” he asked, his eyes wide at the sight of all the cameras, of all the reporters who were so enamored of Audra doing her thing that they had yet to spot the two of them.
“Come on,” Patrick repeated.
“Patrick…” Will eyed the crowd nervously. “Where are we going?”
“Where do you think?” Patrick jerked his head toward the red carpet.
Will gripped his hand harder.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
Patrick took both of Will’s hands in his own, conscious that more and more stares were turning in their direction. He felt his lover’s skin on his and imagined it was physically possible to draw strength from the contact, Kismet willing Axel back to life with the force of his love.
“You’re my hero, Will,” he said. “Now it’s my job to make sure I’m worthy of you.”
He began to walk backward, leading Will step by step toward the carpet.
“I promise we’ll figure the rest out later,” he said. “But right now, you are the most beautiful person here, and I want to show you off. If you would do me the honor?”
He released Will’s hands and held out his arm.
Will laughed. “Well, I did get all dressed up,” he said, taking Patrick’s arm.
“Out of the closet,” Patrick whispered, “and into the fire.”
They stepped onto the carpet together, all eyes turning to them. Patrick paused midway and turned to Will. He cupped his cheeks tenderly and drew him in for a kiss. The air around them exploded in clicks and flashes, a hundred cameras capturing forever the moment that he went from just another actor in yet another superhero movie to Patrick Lake, Homosexual.
“I love you,” he whispered again in Will’s ear.
“I love you,” Will whispered back, followed by “Good god, I need a drink.”
“Patrick!” the press called out. “Patrick! Patrick! Who’s your friend!”
“This is Will,” Patrick told them, his voice clearer and steadier than any line reading of his career. “He’s my date. Actually…he’s my boyfriend.” This invited more clattering and a constellation of camera flashes. More questions, too. How long have you two been involved? Are you coming out right now? Are you a member of the LGBT community? Are things getting serious between you?
Is this love?
Patrick turned to look at Will again—his prince, his queen, his favorite person in this or any universe—and simply said: “I’m his biggest fan.”