“Kyle, we’re ready,” Dad said.
I saw him wave me toward the casting room.
“I’ll be with the writers today, but I thought you might enjoy watching the auditions. Kyle, this is Stan,” Dad said.
“Hello Kyle, I’m the casting director. Your father has told me a lot of great things about you.”
I’m sure he has. “Nice to meet you,” I said reaching out to shake his hand.
“He says you have a fondness for the arts.”
“Yes indeed,” I said, following him into the room. “I got involved with theatre back home, it all fascinates me.”
“I’m sure you’ll love being here then,” Stan said.
“Definitely,” I replied.
I examined the room. Directly across from the entrance was a long fold up table. In the center was a pile of manila folders. Behind and to the right of the table stood a studio camera, operator in tow. Stan introduced me to everyone, and we all exchanged handshakes before taking our seat behind the table. I looked down at the folders and read the name on the top one. Abbott, Cody. Stan took the top folder, sliding the other ones in front of him. I could see the end of a silver paperclip sticking out, holding what I figured was Cody’s photograph. When he finally flipped it open, I saw his picture. Cody was attractive but at twenty, he looked too old to play a sixteen-year-old.
Movie magic, I guess.
“Let’s begin, bring Cody in,” Stan said.
Cody walked in, he looked different than his picture. He stood at probably five-foot six with short brown hair. His bright green eyes stood out against his olive skin tone. He stepped forward and stood in front of us. Stan provided a script and had him read for both characters, starting first with Ryan.
We sat through half the pile of auditions. I eyed our next victim as Stan reached for his folder. His file didn’t contain a picture, something I found oddly peculiar. His name was Scotty Valentin.
“This one should be at the bottom,” Stan said to himself as he closed the folder. “Let’s take a break. Kyle can I have a word with you?”
“Sure,” I said following him out the door.
“I realized it may be easier if we had someone young read lines with the guys. Maybe I can get a little more than they are giving me. Would you be up for trying out with the next guy?”
Gulp, like you want me to read these lines. From the script based off my father’s book. In front of everyone? Reading aloud had never been my strong suit. Subject matter aside, this was an opportunity for me to break out of my shell. Regardless I blurted out my typical wallflower response.
“I guess. I’m not good at the whole acting thing. I don’t even like reading out loud at school, I hate the sound of my voice.” I blushed.
A voice inside my head said grow up kid, stop limiting yourself.
“It’s all right, you just have to read, it doesn’t matter how you sound.”
“Okay,” I mumbled and cleared my throat, speaking with more authority. “Yeah I’ll help.”
“Thank you, here’s the script. Why don’t you look over page fifty for a moment before I call the next person in,” Stan said.
I watched him walk away then looked at the script. I opened to the first page and quickly flipped through them, stopping on page forty-eight and read over the scene. We congregated back in the audition room, I stood in front of everyone and waited for my cue. I began to sweat slightly under the heat of the fill light. To tame my nerves, I rocked back and forth on my feet.
“Ready?” Stan asked.
I stopped rocking instantly. “As I’ll ever be,” I replied.
“Want to send Scotty in?”
Behind me I heard the door open and close. Everything went quiet for a moment. I got to thinking about how funny it was that I was holding a script which seemed so true to my life right now; not to mention coming from a book my father wrote. Maybe this was just a temporary defect in my life. Maybe I would get the answers I needed when I started high school. Maybe. Yeah, new school meant new girls, meant I would finally meet someone. Just thinking of the endless possibilities sent chills down my back. The girls, with their sun kissed skin, were sure to excite me. Later tonight I was going to enlist Stephen’s help in finding me a girlfriend. Time to face the inevitable and do the socially acceptable thing. Follow the norm and meet my high school sweetheart, fall in love, get married and have kids…
The door screeched when the next guy walked in, breaking my train of thought for a moment. I heard someone walk toward me. I now couldn’t wait to start high school; all my questions would be answered. The confusion would finally cease. I would meet a girl, make my father proud, and then this phase would come to an end—
Hubidah hubidah, um hello there…
All previous thoughts escaped me the moment I laid eyes on Scotty.
Simultaneously my mouth dried and sweat built on my brow.
For me it was an instant attraction. Not necessarily love at first sight. I wondered if it was the same for him. My heart revved up at the sight of his beautiful eyes. He swept some hair from his eyes and suddenly my heart sputtered out of control and I wasn’t sure if I kept my composure or not. My palms got all sweaty, and I honestly thought this was all a daydream I was about to wake up from. I could feel my heart on the verge of stalling if I didn’t calm it soon.
What’s wrong with me? Was I just telling myself a lie? I’d just got through saying it was time to meet a girl then you walk into my life. What gives?
Scotty stopped a foot or so away and I watched him brush away more hair from his eyes. For a split second I thought, Have we met before? He wore a pristine white-albeit slightly crooked and adorable-leading man smile. He had a subtle five o’clock shadow forming over his chin and upper lip, and he smelled like lemon and sandalwood.
Scotty had obviously decided his wardrobe around Matt, Ryan’s love interest in the book. He wore a stark white button up with thin red and yellow pinstripes. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and the top two buttons were undone revealing the start of his slightly hairy chest. He had on a pair of burnt orange colored slacks held up by matching suspenders. He looked like a hipster, it was dorky, but he pulled it off.
His dark brown eyes were like magnets I let pull me in. He extended his hand and a deeper than expected voice rumbled up from his chest and escaped his precious lips.
“I take it your helping me today?” Scotty asked.
“I, ah, yeah,” I squeaked.
“Scotty Valentin,” Scotty said, pronouncing his last name as Valentine.
I was so awe struck by his presence I almost didn’t register his introduction.
“Kyle, pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Scotty replied, offering a subtle wink.
Once his hand met mine, my body went numb. I had nothing to offer for words, just a dopey look on my face and a slightly clammy-limp handshake. I was willing to risk everything to kiss him then and there. His hands were rough to the touch, much like a builder’s hands would feel, and his grip was strong but not so strong it risked breaking the bones in my hand. I noticed him look me up and down before offering another wink. I returned the sentiment.
“Okay let’s begin.” I barely heard Stan say.
After we went through the basic procedures to get Scotty slatted, we were ready to start.
He looked from me to Stan. “What page do you want us to read from?”
“Fifty,” Stan replied.
I continued to eye Scotty. I noticed his eyes dart toward me for a moment. Again, my heartbeat, beat, beat like a drumline. He looked back to Stan. I watched as he opened his script, I did the same.
“Who’s doing who?” Scotty asked. I chuckled and cleared my throat, Scotty grinned at me. “Who’s reading for whom?” he asked, looking at me.
“You’ll start by reading for Matt,” Stan said.
“Okay,” Scotty replied.
“Just act like this is a take, do what you would on set even though this is
an audition.”
“Okay,” I said. I didn’t know what he meant.
“You can start,” Scotty said to me.
I scanned the script, cleared my throat and began to read. “I think something’s wrong with me,” I said, not bothering to look at the script anymore.
“What do you mean?” Scotty questioned.
“I… I’ve been having these feelings lately.”
“What kind of feelings?”
As he said this, he stepped toward me. We locked eyes. He was probably three-to-four inches taller than me and had to be at least two years older.
“Feelings I cannot control, can’t even explain.” I took a step closer, brushing my hand against his and felt it twitch. He looked down.
“What-t are you talking about Ryan?” Scotty stuttered.
I sighed and turned away from him. “Never mind, forget I said anything.”
I felt his hand on my shoulder. I eyed it.
“Talk to me,” Scotty said.
I felt pressure followed by a gentle tug. I turned, bumping into him. We stared at each other and I sighed again.
“I can’t take it anymore. I have to say something. I like you Matt.”
I watched his lips slowly curl—the right corner going a little higher than the left. At first, they twitched, fluttered open as though he were going to reveal a secret, and then returned to a grin. My how I could look at that crooked smile of yours every day. Our surroundings seemed to disappear the longer I stared at him. He waited a moment to deliver his next line. I felt him take hold of my hand, for some reason my breathing became uneven. Scotty laughed. It was musical.
“Good, because I like you too.”
I watched him step closer to me, taking my other hand. I couldn’t hear anything aside from his breathing. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, it was after all coming up in the script. My mind went to mush, and I continued to stare at him all the while fighting the urge to kiss him. I’d never felt this drawn to anyone so quickly.
“Are you okay?” Scotty asked, closing the gap between us.
The pressure of his body felt incredible against mine. I could tell I was starting to get turned on, I felt embarrassed. I looked at the script and at my line, after this line we were supposed to kiss. I had no idea what I was supposed to do next. I began to shake a little, growing increasingly nauseous. My palms became even more clammy, and suddenly I had a case of dry mouth. I looked down and eyed Scotty’s hand in mine. This seemed so right, so natural, like the saying from Maine; the way life should be.
“Yeah I’m fine,” Scotty whispered my next line to me.
I looked back up and saw him smiling at me. “Yeah I’m fine,” I said dropping the script.
“Whoops,” he said.
We both watched it fall; the script came to a rest between our feet. He stepped ever so slightly closer to me. KISS ME! I wanted to yell, kiss me now!
“I got it,” we said in unison, crouching down at the same time. I felt something hard hit my head.
“Ow,” Scotty grumbled.
I straightened up, bashing into him again. “Sorry.”
He stumbled back, falling on his butt.
He laughed. “It’s okay.”
Scotty grabbed the scripts and held out a hand, which I took hold of. His weight pulled me toward him, but I stood my ground. Once standing he handed me the script.
“Thanks.”
“I think that’s all we’ll need,” Stan said. I turned and faced him. “Thank you so much Kyle for helping.”
“No problem.”
Stan got up, walking around the table. As he approached, he looked back and forth from myself to Scotty.
“I’ll be right back,” Stan said to me.
I watched as Stan placed his hand on Scotty’s shoulder, they walked just out of ear shot. Whatever Stan said at first made Scotty smile. I leaned toward them a little and that’s when I heard Stan.
“Like I said, you two have a fantastic, natural chemistry. If the kid were an actor, I’d have my people. I’ll call you tonight and clarify your position.”
“Okay,” Scotty replied.
“As of right now, it looks like you’re in if you’re interested. I will let you know when call backs are.”
“Okay, thanks for the opportunity Stan.”
“No problem.”
“Bye,” Scotty said to me as he walked away.
I think I said bye. Stan took his seat.
“Next,” he yelled.
We breezed through several auditions, yet not one of the guys I saw after Scotty melted my heart the way he did.
§ § § §
Flustered, my father fumbled with his keys, jamming them into the lock.
I offered to drive us home. Thinking since the ride was short, he’d allow it. He looked at me as though I’d just cut his breathing tube while I looked him in the eyes. This of course was a dramatic overstatement; his reaction was nothing new. He fumed for a moment then settled down soon after. Like a boiling pot of water just removed from its heat source.
“I was just suggesting I drive.”
“Did you see yourself the last time you drove? You nearly crashed into the back of someone’s car.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“The car was parked Kyle. It was a nightmare.”
I chuckled remembering the last time I nearly drove off Cooksey Drive. I impatiently fidgeted with my handle, a second later the lock popped up. I opened the door, hopped in, and reached for the stereo, changing the station once my dad started up the car.
“Not this gay ass pop shit,” My father snapped, changing the station.
I sighed and sat back. I wasn’t in the mood to get into a fight, but it sure seemed to be heading there.
“I helped read some lines today and Stan talked to me after. He asked if I would be interested in playing the role of Ryan. He was really impressed with me today and told me to think about it,” I said.
“I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“What? Why not?”
“I don’t feel comfortable with you playing that role. You should be prioritizing your time getting ready for school, considering it starts in a few weeks.”
“School starts in a month and a half.”
“Well you need a job then, and to focus on more important things.”
What things?
“You’re the one who wrote the book this film is based on. I figured you of all people would be interested in me taking part in the movie.”
I watched him shiver and swallow hard. He gripped the steering wheel.
“Quite the opposite. No son of mine is gay, nor would he impersonate one.”
“So, this book an indication of how you’d react if one of your children came out?”
“Don’t say that.”
“What?”
I noticed him grip the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turned marble white.
“You know what. Do I have to worry about you?”
“We aren’t talking about me.”
“What are we talking about then?”
“We’re talking about your inability to see past your own nose sometimes.” I said
“Look I said I don’t want to talk about it, and don’t want you playing that role. Now shut up!” His voice picked up an octave, he was almost yelling.
“Whatever,” I mumbled.
“Don’t take that tone with me mister. I don’t want to talk about it, end of story.”
“It’s always ‘end of story’ with you.”
“Look, the world doesn’t revolve around you, the sooner you realize this the better off you’ll be.”
I ignored his comment and stared out the window. We kept driving in silence. When we pulled into the driveway, he idled the engine for a minute. We sat in silence. I unbuckled and reached for the handle.
“Wait,” Dad said. “What’s gotten into you lately?”
“What’s gotten into me? What do you mean?”
/>
“You’ve been agitated lately and have turned into quite the rebellious teenager. Is there something you want to talk about?”
Of course, there was something I wanted to talk about you fool.
This was big news and I knew now wasn’t the time to say something. How could I tell him I’d spent the entire ride home thinking about Scotty? Wondering if I’d see him again. How could I tell him the very thing keeping me up at night giving me nightmares, the thing I occasionally cried about, was also the very thing his book was about, and I feared and believed it would be the very thing to end our relationship as father and son.
Perhaps I’m becoming rebellious because I’ve realized I have a voice and feel the need to prepare for the day you may reject me for who I am.
“Nothing, Dad,” I paused. “I don’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t understand,” I mumbled as I got out of the car.
“Now wait a minute—”
I slammed the car door shut, cutting off anything my father was about to say. I wanted so bad to tell him how I felt. To finally reveal my identity. Why bother, he wouldn’t understand. I heard his door slam shut.
“Kyle.”
“Dad please leave me alone!” I kept walking.
This was one of the many talks my father and I had skirting around the real issue. Neither of us wanted to talk about it. I felt bad for snapping at my dad, but the pressure made me want to tell him everything. I’m gay, Dad, your precious little boy is a homo, I wanted to say. I didn’t fully know myself but at least I would’ve gotten an honest reaction from him. I turned and faced him.
“I’m sorry for blowing up at you,” I said.
“Apology accepted. I’m sorry too. I just wish I knew why you were so hesitant to talk to me.”
“I’m scared you’ll no longer love me. I’m so worried if I don’t turn into this man you keep trying to shape me into that I’ll be a disappointment.”
I walked away from my father before he could respond and headed upstairs. Had I really changed? I mean I know I am going through some changes, that was part of growing up. However, I had to admit, my attitude had morphed since our move out here. I was learning new things about myself and my body so quickly it still baffled me. I was becoming increasingly agitated about living a double life. Maybe this change was for the best. I grabbed the remote to my sound system and blasted one of the local pop stations to clear my mind.
Playing It Out Straight Page 8
