Starboys

by Jeremy Jenkins

  “Sure, go ahead and read. I wanted to get away from everyone to play on my phone anyway…” I said stupidly.

  Leo nodded his golden head as he sat next to me, then cracked open his book.

  I watched him for a few seconds, eyeing his haircut. Now that I was this close to him, it didn’t seem so bad… it was slicked back with a few strands escaping at the front, dangling down over his face like Nathan Fillion’s hair.

  I found myself wondering if we were actually going to do this: Sit here and just be in our own worlds.

  Leo hunched over the book and his golden eyes began flickering along the words, tracing them with impressive speed.

  I raised an eyebrow at him, blushed, and then turned my attention to my phone.

  From an outsider’s perspective, sitting here with him looked like the most boring thing in the world. All anyone could see was that we were two guys — one impossibly beautiful, one average — sitting on a bench.

  But what no one could see was what could only be felt, and I had to feel it alone.

  There was a prickling in the air, and every fiber of my consciousness was focused on Leo. I pretended to be reading some high-brow New York Times article on my phone, but I was actually watching him carefully out of the corner of my eye.

  He was still as a statue, like he was carved from marble. There was no way he was feeling the same about me; he was completely engrossed in his book.

  I was afraid to stay quiet, worried that my awkwardness would scare him away. But I was even more afraid that anything I would say would be stupid, so I just kept my mouth shut.

  He flipped a page, the sound of the sliding paper slicing through my eardrum.

  My pulse quickened, and I was overcome with this strange desire to know everything about him. I wanted to open up his mind and dive inside; learning all of his secrets and his wants and his fears… but mostly, I wanted to know why we had this weird, unspeakable connection.

  And if I was the only one that was feeling it.

  Suddenly, his golden eye flicked over to me, and I was struck with that same piercing magnetism that I’d felt when I first saw him on the patio. The same heat ran through my body as when he’d looked at me during that scene an hour ago while he was on top of Alina pretending to fuck her…

  Was he wishing… was he wishing he was fucking me instead?

  Just as the heat rose into my cheeks again and I felt the pulsing in my pants, there was a rustling from outside the little area we were in. Someone was approaching.

  Silently, I cursed whoever it was. Whoever decided to stumble along this way was now my mortal enemy for interrupting the silent moment between me and Leo; it completely threw off the vibe.

  Leo looked away from me and to the entrance to the little cove of green.

  All I wanted was to have his eyes back on me; even if it was only one.

  Reese Riley appeared in the entryway, stopped in his tracks.

  Chapter Ten

  Like Leo, Reese looked comically out of place among the greenery since he was wearing a flawless fitted suit.

  There was something uncomfortable that shuddered in the air as Reese looked at Leo, then at me.

  Was that… was that jealousy?

  Then he eyed the space on the bench between us and how empty it was. His steely eyes softened to a liquid silver.

  “My apologies gentlemen, I didn’t mean to interrupt quiet time,” he said with a smirk.

  I piped up and said all the things you’re expected to say in situations like those: That he wasn’t interrupting anything, that it was no big deal, and that he was welcome to join us. But he waved all of my words away like he was batting away a cloud of annoying insects.

  “I’m afraid I have to regretfully decline,” he said, his poise and posture returning as he backed away. “I was just scouting out lighting and setting for an upcoming scene.”

  And just like that, he was gone, lost in the labyrinth of the garden.

  I looked at Leo, scrambling for scraps of someone that could make sense of what had just happened. But all he did was move his eyes back down to his book, lost in the world of the Black Castle.

  Was… was Reese hoping to find Leo alone? My instincts were tingling on that, determined that they had some kind of secret relationship going on. The way that Reese had moved his hand down Leo’s shoulder — not only once, but twice — hinted that there was something amiss.

  But Leo was stoic; unchanged. Surely if there was something between them, Leo would have shown some reaction to Reese showing up like that? Some relief maybe, some softening of the tension in his shoulders.

  I longed to reach out and touch his shoulders, feel the way the shirt clung to his back like that…

  Blush rose into my cheeks once again and my cock pulsed.

  “You don’t have to stay,” Leo said in a flat voice, not moving his eyes from his book.

  I felt the pain of rejection punch me in the gut. He didn’t want me here; he preferred silence and alone time to my company.

  “Alright— I’ll go…” I said, blinking tears out of my eyes.

  The truth was, I wasn’t wanted anywhere. Mason had called me a pawn, and that’s all I was to these people. Some rando who showed up in their domain, in Valhalla where they had all of the power and control. And what was I? Some useless nobody.

  I got up from the bench, tucked my phone into my pocket, and headed towards the exit.

  That’s when Leo finally looked up.

  “Charlie,” he said, my name coming out of his mouth in a different way than I’ve ever heard before. His molasses voice caressed the syllables in a way that I liked, rounding around the letters. It was like for the first time in my life, someone was saying my name right.

  I blinked, fighting back tears and turned to look at him.

  Those gold eyes were fixed on me again, seeing through everything that I was. He was looking into my core, into the part of me that had never been loved.

  That same part that Hazel had called out the moment we met.

  “You’re important,” he said slowly and carefully. “Don’t let any of these assholes make you feel like you’re not.”

  It was as if cupid fired an arrow — no, a freaking missile straight at my heart. It was beating so fast that I thought it would crack the walls of my chest and spill out onto the ground between us.

  But despite all of these fluttering, twisting feelings that were swirling inside me, altering the shape of my soul, all I could mutter was, “Thanks.”

  Then I yanked my eyes away from his and left.

  It took me a few minutes to walk off that… whatever that was. Those eyes, how they could see through me, look into my mind and see what was worrying me…

  And how he said just the thing I needed to hear right at that moment. It had me trying to figure him out even more, trying to grapple with this cocktail of fear and curiosity.

  I needed to know him. I needed to know everything about him. But first, I needed to create distance so I could breathe.

  After a few minutes, I was safely in the town by the seaside, lost in the anonymity of the crowd. The feeling of no one recognizing me was comforting; like I was hiding in plain sight.

  Still, I swerved into a sweets shop where I only recognized the word “Dolce” on the sign. There were only a few people in here — perfect.

  I sat in a chair near the window and pretended to look at the menu, but I was thinking about Leo. Halfheartedly, I made a selection by pointing at some cupcake thing when the waiter came by.

  As soon as he was gone, I dove into my phone and searched “Leo Knight.”

  Picture after picture of his dazzling good looks showed up on my screen, and article after article. It was a goldmine of information.

  I didn’t know what I was looking for in particular. All I knew was that I had to know everything about him as fast as possible.

  Scanning through articles speedily, I learned the basics about him pretty quickly — he studied film
in college, made it big after some play he did and landed the lead part in The Black Castle. But the thing that stuck out the most to me was that he was from the midwest like me. That explained the lack of an arrogant attitude.

  Like I was infected with obsession, I scanned through everything I could find about him, looking for hints of a girlfriend or wife. So I typed that into my Google search, and was disappointed when the search box auto-completed my query to “Leo Knight girlfriend.”

  My heart sank. Every picture I came across, he had his hand on the shoulder of some beautiful brunette. It looked like she was also an actress, and co-starred with him in that play that made him famous.

  He was straight.

  I felt like I’d been shot. If me and Leo were fated or whatever, what a cruel twist for him to end up being straight.

  Did the universe care about gender when it paired people together? What if my heartmate was Alina?

  I shook my head, unwilling to entertain the thought. There was no way I could feel so much chemistry with someone and for them to be completely straight.

  The waiter brought up my chocolate cupcake thing, but I’d lost my appetite. There was no hope for me. I picked at the confection sadly.

  But then… that didn’t explain how Reese had touched his shoulder like that. No, it was more than a touch.

  He’d caressed it.

  The afternoon began to draw to a close, and I could no longer procrastinate going to dinner. With heavy feet, I nearly dragged myself down the street toward the fancy restaurant in the middle of the village.

  Even though I was in a bad mood, the soothing sound of the ocean caressed my ears. The streets were nearly deserted, so I could enjoy the gentle noise as I strolled through the picturesque little town. Like turning down a noise dial, the sound drowned out the negative thoughts that had been bubbling up in my mind like a fungus.

  As I drew closer to the restaurant, my reverie was interrupted by the sound of a voice drifting out from a nearby alleyway.

  With a dawning realization, I recognized the voice as Oliver’s.

  I drew closer out of curiosity, longing to delay the time I’d have to sit around all of these stars.

  “No baby,” he said into the receiver.

  I was careful to remain out of sight at the mouth of the alleyway, eavesdropping. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that compelled me to leave this place; to give Oliver some privacy. But something stronger kept me rooted to the spot.

  For some reason, Mason’s face came to mind: Shit is about to hit. The. Fan.

  And whatever conversation Oliver was having with whoever he was talking to on the phone sounded like a thread that was going to unravel something.

  I had to know.

  “No, no it’s nothing,” Oliver said, his voice filled with a gentle soothing tone. It was as if he was trying to comfort someone on the other end. “Babe, no, you know that’s not true…”

  There was silence, and I guessed that someone was talking on the other line. After a long pause, Oliver finally said, “You know it doesn’t work like that. Everything is where it’s supposed to be; no one knows.”

  This sounded like a random boring lovers’ quarrel. I was just about to turn on my heel and leave when Oliver said, “No, they don’t know about Reese.”

  I stopped in my tracks, a magnet freezing me to the spot.

  He could only mean Reese Riley, right?

  I pictured the beautiful older guy, the silver swirling at his temples in the morning sun. The way he looked at me in the entrance hall when he pushed that apple around earlier. I had my suspicions about him, but after getting to know him a little more today, there didn’t seem to be anything nefarious about his intentions.

  Except the way he touched Leo’s shoulder.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “No babe, there’s no need to make a big deal about this,” Oliver said. “No, he hasn’t come onto me. Yes, I’ve heard the rumors.”

  More silence. I was straining to hear, willing my ears to grow.

  “No, you’re getting all worked up over nothing! Come on, I get to see you in two weeks, it’s no big deal.”

  There was more silence, then I could hear as Oliver shifted his posture.

  “Look, if you feel that way, maybe we should take a break,” he snapped. “It’s not like I could ever measure up to you anyway.”

  There was a shuffling noise, and I knew that Oliver hung up his phone.

  He sighed.

  My eyes darted around for somewhere I could hide. It was only a matter of seconds before he came out of the alley and saw me.

  There was a dumpster nearby, some trash cans, and what looked like a pile of tarps sitting near the mouth of the alley. It only took a second to decide that I’d rather get caught by Oliver than dirty my clothes or mess up my hair by hiding near any of those options.

  “What are you doing here?!” Oliver said, his eyes wide with panic. There was a slight redness to the whites of his eyes, which made the green of his irises shine even more brightly. Combined with the tan color of his skin, he was stunning.

  I stood up straight. “I was just on my way to the dinner,” I said, trying to seem like I hadn’t just been eavesdropping.

  Oliver’s eyebrows knitted together as he regarded me carefully. “How much did you hear, farm boy?”

  I scowled. “Enough to know you’re hurt.”

  His face turned into a scowl that matched mine. He was about to spit something back at me, but then he looked down instead, defeated.

  “I can’t right now, Charlie. It’s been a day. Can we call it a truce for now?”

  “Truce?” I asked. “I wasn’t aware we were at war.”

  “Oh cut the crap,” he snapped, his eyes rising to meet mine. “We have a weird rivalry.”

  I gave a quick, curt nod. “We shouldn’t. I don’t know why you started it.”

  “Just drop it. Let’s go to dinner.”

  I was pissed and was about to refuse him, but then he looked me straight in the eye and said, “Please?”

  His superiority complex had fallen for a moment, and he was just a man staring at me as his equal, asking for mercy.

  “Fine,” I snapped. “But it doesn’t mean you can call me farm boy, so cut that out.”

  “Only for tonight,” he said, his eyes going all heavy-lidded. “Tomorrow, all bets are off.”

  I was about to sass him back, but I bit my tongue when I saw his upper lip quivering. He was just barely holding it together.

  I could at least let him have his pride for now.

  “Alright, come on. Let’s walk,” I relented.

  He pursed his lips ever so slightly and joined my side.

  For a few moments, we walked in silence toward the restaurant. The awkwardness stretched out greedily between us.

  “I think I was just broken up with,” Oliver finally said.

  I opened my mouth to respond, but Oliver cut me off. “No, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Maybe… maybe because you’re the only person here I can tell.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, surprised.

  He stiffened up a little and said, “We’re both kind of in the same boat, I think. We’re both trying to make our mark on the world, but we have to do everything perfectly. All of this stuff we create is going to be remembered in film forever.”

  I was quiet, letting him have his dramatic moment. I didn’t think about it that way; all I was trying to do was to make Alina happy. Keeping clients happy was what I lived for.

  “I guess that’s one way to look at it,” I said, if only to keep the conversation going.

  “My boyfrie— I mean, my ex didn’t think anything like what we do was worthwhile,” he said, his green eyes far away.

  I felt a prickle of annoyance. “What do you mean by that? What we do?”

  “I mean, making people look a certain way. Being designers; artists of the aesthetic.”

  I relaxed. “I’ve never heard it put th
at way,” I admitted.

  “You don’t think you’re an artist?” Oliver asked, looking at me earnestly.

  For a moment I went quiet. It was true; I’d never thought of myself in that way. “Calling myself an artist seems… disingenuous. It feels like I’m trying to be something I’m not.”

  “Why wouldn’t you be an artist? Because you don’t paint, or sculpt, or whatever traditional thing is supposed to “qualify” you as an artist?”

  As I thought about Oliver’s words, a sudden tectonic shift was happening inside of me. It was like my understanding of the world was being rearranged ever so slightly, and for some reason, it was making me feel better about myself.

  Way better.

  “I guess I make people look a certain way with hair and makeup…”

  “So your canvases are people,” Oliver mused. “It’s way more complicated than painting on an actual canvas, don’t you think? For us, we have to think about all the dimensions more traditional artists don’t have to consider; we have to think about how our subjects move, how much they’ll sweat, if there’s going to be a lot of wind or sun on them, etcetera etcetera.”

  I felt the strangest sensation just then; it was like I was a wilting flower that had suddenly gotten a generous drink of water and was on the way to blooming in bright colors. It made me walk with my head held a little higher.

  “…thanks, I didn’t know I needed to hear that,” I said cautiously. Even though Oliver was being nice for now, I knew it was only a matter of time before he resumed his holier-than-thou attitude. For now, he was being vulnerable because he just had a breakup.

  “So, what happens when artists like us have breakups?” he asked, a mischievous gleam glinting in his eye.

  “Um… we drink and complain about our exes?” I answered.

  He laughed loud and honestly. The sound was pure and true, coming from somewhere underneath his layers of arrogance.

  I smiled a little, catching the laughter.

  “I was thinking something about channeling all of the feelings into our art, but we could do both,” he said.