by Andrew Grey
“I know,” Kendall said as Johnny leaned forward once again, picked up his glasses, and went back to work. Slowly Kendall rubbed Johnny’s back. “I just want to spend some time together. I’m always busy, you work a lot, and I thought one day for just the two of us would be nice.”
Johnny sighed as though Kendall had asked him to walk over hot coals with his bare feet, and rather than push it further, Kendall stopped rubbing and shifted to the far end of the sofa. There was no use in asking again, he knew that, so he left the room and went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, shaved, and then showered before returning to the bedroom to dress. When he was finished, he returned to the living room. Johnny hadn’t moved and was once again immersed in his work. Rather than try to make breakfast and have to listen to more dramatic sighs and the occasional complaint about the noise, Kendall grabbed a jacket and left the apartment, heading for his favorite coffee shop.
Once there, Kendall got in line and waited his turn. He’d ordered his usual chai latte and was sitting at one of the tables, trying to relax, when he heard someone say, “Where’s Johnny?”
He smiled up at Gina and motioned for her to sit down. She lived in the neighborhood, and he’d run into her numerous times over the years, so they’d become friends. “He’s on a deadline, so he’s home working, and I decided to step out for a while to give him some peace.”
Gina squinted at him slightly and then sipped from her cup. “Things aren’t going so well?” she asked, and Kendall nodded in resignation.
“Can’t hide anything from you,” Kendall said.
“Nope. But I figured it was either that or your show closing.” Gina yawned once and then drank some more of her coffee. She worked just down the street at a deli and was most likely on her break. She was Kendall’s age, but had had a much tougher time of it. Young when she’d gotten pregnant, Gina had a fourteen-year-old daughter, Chelsea. Gina worked at the deli on weekends to help make ends meet. It hadn’t been easy for her. Kendall had heard all the stories over the years, just like Gina had heard all the trials and tribulations he’d gone through when he’d been starting his career. “Johnny’s rarely around when you are, and….” She paused. “I remember when the two of you were inseparable and you finished each other’s sentences.”
“We’re going through a tough patch right now. But we’ll be fine. Once he’s through with his manuscript, he can relax, and I’ll have some time until I get another job, so we’ll be able to reconnect,” Kendall said, acting more positive than he felt. The truth was that he wasn’t sure how he felt about his relationship with Johnny. It wasn’t as though there was anything wrong or that they were fighting. They just seemed to be growing apart. Kendall knew some of that had to do with their schedules, which he hoped would even out soon. “I’ve been thinking about seeing if he wanted to take a cruise or something in a few months. Give us a chance to get away.”
“I think you have more than a chance,” Gina said, and then she sipped from her cup. “Johnny’s a nice man, and think about it, both of you have spent how many years building your careers?” She set down her cup, and Kendall paused with his cup near his lips, wondering what her point was. “How many years have you done eight shows a week, mostly in the evenings, with one day off a week?”
“A long time. I did my first show at eighteen,” Kendall said, remembering the small part he’d had. He hadn’t had many lines, but the part required a lot of stage time, and Kendall had had a ball hamming it up in the back of the scenes.
“Exactly, and you met Johnny ten years or so ago. Your entire relationship you’ve had this weird schedule, and now you don’t. But he’s built his life around your weird schedule. He worked full time and wrote in the evenings. Now his books have taken off and he’s come into his own.”
“I know. I see them in the windows of all the bookstores,” Kendall agreed.
“But have you read one of them?” Gina asked. “Other than his first ones, have you read them?” Kendall swallowed and finally shook his head. He hadn’t had the time to read them all. “Then maybe you should start there. You can’t expect him to be all lovey-dovey with you if you aren’t involved in his life.”
“God,” Kendall said. “I didn’t know I was being a real dick.” He gulped his cooling coffee and swallowed hard.
“You haven’t been, just busy. Just like Johnny probably wasn’t at the closing performance last night. You’re both busy, or were busy. But you aren’t now. So if you want things to change, that probably needs to come from you,” Gina said, checking her watch. “I need to get back.” She stood up, and Kendall did as well. They hugged, and then she hurried toward the door. Kendall watched her go and then sat back down and finished his coffee.
On the way back to the apartment, he stopped at Zabar’s and bought some cheese, fresh fruit, and other goodies he knew Johnny liked before walking the four or five blocks back to the brownstone.
Inside, he found Johnny seated in the exact same place, still bent over his computer. He was typing to beat the band, and Kendall knew to make as little noise as possible. If things were flowing, then he didn’t want to interrupt. He put away the groceries and then went into the bedroom, where he scanned their bookshelf for one of Johnny’s books. He plucked out one he hadn’t read, opened the window to let in fresh air, and settled on the bed to read.
“You’re home,” Johnny said with a bit of surprise when he came into the room.
“Yeah,” Kendall said, looking up from his book. “I brought you some of the Gouda you liked and some berries.” He marked his page and closed the book. He caught Johnny’s gaze and scooched over on the mattress, hoping he’d join him. “Is the writing coming?”
“Yeah,” Johnny answered excitedly. “It’s been flowing fast.” He stepped toward the bed and leaned over, giving Kendall a light kiss.
Kendall wrapped his arms around Johnny’s neck and pulled him in for more, but he stiffened and only lightly kissed Kendall again. “I’ve got to get back to work.” Johnny straightened up. “Do you want to make dinner tonight?”
“Sure, I can cook,” Kendall said, and Johnny nodded, then left the room. Soon Kendall heard the almost frantic tapping of computer keys once again. Sighing softly, he got up and went into the kitchen to get a can of soda and some crackers before returning to the bedroom. This time he settled in the chair and put his feet up, taking as consolation that if he couldn’t spend time with Johnny, at least he could spend time with his stories.
He must have read for a few hours. Time seemed to fly as he got into the book. Johnny wrote adventure stories around the search for famous objects or bits of knowledge. When they’d met, Johnny had still been in graduate school finishing up a master’s in history. He’d planned to go on for his doctorate and then teach at the university level. A few months after they’d moved in together, Johnny plopped a sheaf of computer printouts on the table and asked Kendall to read them. It was the first half of his first novel. He’d started it on a whim during a break from school, and by the time he had his master’s degree, the book was done. He’d made the mistake of showing it to one of his professors, who had deemed the work trite and beneath a true historian. Johnny had almost given up, but Kendall had pushed him, and by the time Johnny had started his course work for his doctorate, he had an agent, and by the end of the first semester, a contract. Once the book was released, it took off, and Johnny Harker became a sensation. He wrote two books a year that regularly hit all the bestseller lists. As he read one of Johnny’s books for the first time in a while, Kendall understood why.
“Sal wants you to call him,” Johnny called from the other room. Kendall hadn’t heard the phone. “He called while you were out, but it slipped my mind until now.” Johnny said nothing more, and the soft tapping on the keyboard commenced again. Kendall clenched his fists in frustration. He sat up and walked to the bedroom door, ready to yell at Johnny, but he stopped himself. It wouldn’t do anything except get Johnny upset and then he’d lose his train of
thought, which would have him stomping and pacing the living room until he got his ideas straight again. “Sorry,” Johnny said again and continued typing. Kendall snatched the phone off the bedside table and dialed his agent, checking the time on his phone.
“Sal, it’s Kendall,” he said when the rather gruff man answered the phone. He was one of those old-time agents who smoked, ate, and drank too much, but knew every single person in town.
“’Bout time you called me back, kid. I was about to pass this opportunity on to someone else.” Sal always said crap like that.
“Yeah, sure you were, and I was about to see if I could get myself a real agent. Now that the pleasantries are through, what’s up? And why are you in the office on a Sunday? Isn’t it about time for you to be visiting the cemetery to pick out your plot?”
Sal laughed heartily. “No, but you’ll be picking out yours if you don’t learn some respect.” Of course the indignation was fake. Kendall loved Sal almost like a father—he was the best, and had guided his career with dexterity, making sure Kendall only took the right parts. Of course they’d fought on occasion, but Sal was usually right. “So how’s that partner of yours? Is he in the middle of writing another bestseller? Ethel reads every one of his books.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him, and yes, I hope so. He’s on a deadline, and the world could stop and he wouldn’t realize it unless it somehow stopped his computer from working. So what really has you working on a Sunday?”
“You, kid. It seems word has finally sunk in that your show has closed and that you’re free. I’ve been fielding calls for days, and we have some offers, big offers. You could have chosen between the Phantom or one of the fathers in Mamma Mia. But I told them all no.”
“Sal!” Kendall said with surprise. “You’re killing me.”
“No, I’m not. You’re beyond that stuff now. You originate roles, you don’t follow others. Of course, there are no new roles right now. Things are pretty stagnant.”
“Okay, so you’ve made me so I can’t work. Is that what you’re saying?” Kendall kept his voice low because he didn’t want to interrupt Johnny, otherwise he’d have been yelling at the top of his lungs.
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, or whatever kind of drawers you gay boys wear. I was holding out for something really good, and I got the call this morning.” He seemed to be building up to something.
“Call from who?”
“Hollywood,” Sal said. “One of the units of Disney has a script they’ve been sitting on for a while because they haven’t been able to find the right person to play the lead. See, it takes someone with looks, but also someone who can bring an in-depth character to life and display a variety of emotions in less than two hours. I convinced them that what they really needed was a stage actor, someone with presence and the ability to hold an audience with the crook of a finger or the lift of an eyebrow. And that’s you. They loved the stuff I sent them and they loved your stage presence.”
“Okay, but I’ve never worked on film before. I’ve only done live theater—you know that,” Kendall said, his stomach roiling in a mixture of excitement and fear.
“Yeah, and so do they. This isn’t some big-budget blockbuster. It’s a smaller film, but it has the potential to become huge. They also need someone who can carry a scene alone, because a lot of the film will be just you.”
“So what’s this film called?”
“Stranded. They overnighted a copy of the script, and I’m having a copy made and messengered over to you this afternoon. I really think you should do this. If you don’t like doing films, then you can always come back to Broadway, but this is the next step for you. There are only so many roles here, and the community is only so big.”
“Tell me about it—it’s almost incestuous,” Kendall agreed.
“Yes. So see the rest of the world. They want you in Hollywood in a week, and you start shooting in two. It should take about three months to shoot the entire film, and by then, if you want, there will be plenty of roles available here if you want them.”
“I’m not sure about this,” Kendall said. “I don’t have to work. I can simply wait here for a few months.” He and Johnny could spend some time together.
“No, kid. You know you’re either working or dying. Do this—it’ll be good for you,” Sal said in his gruff way. When Kendall hesitated, Sal continued. “Look, I’ve seen you on stage, remember? You have to play to the back row, but you always put those little things into your performances for the front row. Well, that’s what they want. Those small gestures you always included are what will be seen and remembered. Take a chance, kid, for God’s sake. Because if I were in your place, I’d be on a plane so fast….”
“Okay, Sal, you made your point. Let me look at the script.”
“Fine, get back to me Monday morning. That’s when I need to know. Say hello to Johnny for me and look for that package. I’ll expect your call.” Sal hung up, and Kendall stared at the phone for a second before tossing it on the bed and walking into the living room.
Johnny had his arms over his head, shifting his body from side to side, most likely in an effort to work out the kinks. But in seconds, an image came to Kendall of a younger Johnny making that same movement, but instead of getting out the kinks, he was writhing on the mattress, pleading and moaning while Kendall drove into him without mercy. Damn, Johnny had been beautiful—hell, he still was, and when his shirt rode up, Kendall was tempted to walk right over to Johnny, tug it over his head, and remind Johnny of just how much fun they could have together. “What did Sal want?” Johnny asked, bringing his arms down and positioning his fingers on the keys, ready to start again.
“He called to tell me about an offer,” Kendall said.
“So which show is it, and when do you start?” Johnny asked and began typing again, intent on his screen.
“Well, actually, it’s called I’ll Strip For You and I need to get naked on stage and ride around on hobby horses while pretending to have sex with them. Sort of Equus meets The Full Monty.”
“That’s nice,” Johnny said, continuing to work.
“Johnny,” Kendall snapped, and finally Johnny stopped typing. “You weren’t listening.” Kendall walked over and sat next to Johnny on the sofa. “First thing, you really should get a better place to work.” Johnny rolled his eyes and made a little hurry-up motion with his finger. “Secondly, Sal called with an offer, but it isn’t a show. They want me to do a movie. He’s messengering the script this afternoon, and I need to let them know by tomorrow.” Not sure how Johnny would react, Kendall held his breath. “I can hold out for a show here in town, instead. There should be some openings and opportunities in the next few months—there just aren’t any now,” he explained in a rush.
“I think you should do it,” Johnny said. “Read the script first, to make sure it interests you, and then go for it.” Johnny turned back to his computer, but didn’t start typing right away. “When do you leave and how long do you think you’ll be gone?” Johnny asked, the same way he’d inquire when Kendall would be back from the grocery store. Kendall wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“They want an answer by tomorrow, and I’d need to fly to LA in a week, probably, to work through the business stuff. Shooting is scheduled to start a week later, and I’d be gone about three months.” Kendall took Johnny’s hand. “You could come with me. I’d have a trailer, and you could work there.”
Johnny shook his head. “I need to be here. The research libraries I’m familiar with are here, and I have access to the libraries at Columbia. Out there, I’d be away from everything I need to work. It would only be three months and then you’d be back. By then I would have my next book outlined, researched, and mostly written. I could be ahead, and we could take a vacation or something, maybe.” Johnny turned back to the computer. “I’ve always thought you should do movies. You’re good enough, more than good enough.” He turned back to him, and Kendall saw a hint of the excitement they’d sh
ared after he’d gotten his first big part. Of course, that evening’s celebration had ended in the bedroom, and they’d been loud enough to be the talk of the stairwell the following morning. Somehow he didn’t think that would be happening tonight.
“Will you come out to see me while I’m there?” Kendall asked, and Johnny pulled his hands away from the keyboard.
“Of course I’ll come visit once or twice while you’re out there. But I suspect they’re going to have you busy most days until all hours. But I’ll definitely come.” Johnny smiled at him and then stood up, pulling Kendall into a hug. “There are great libraries out there I can visit for research purposes.”
Kendall returned Johnny’s hug, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Thanks, I think,” he muttered.
Johnny was quiet for a few seconds. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I just thought that while you’re working, I could go to some of the libraries and things to get some research done.”
“I’ve been with you long enough to know what you meant.” Kendall stepped back. “It’s just that I’m going to be gone for months, and you don’t seem disappointed.”
Johnny sat back down. “But it’s not going to be that different. I work during the day and into the evening. You go to the theater in the afternoon and work until late six days a week. We don’t actually see each other all that often now. Sure, I’m going to miss you, and you’ll miss me. But like I said, you’ll make your movie and I’ll finish another book, and then we can take a vacation.” Johnny got that faraway look that meant his characters were speaking to him. “Hon, I really need to get this done. Then tonight we can spend some time together.”
The door buzzer sounded. Kendall hated to leave, but he knew it was probably the messenger, so he turned and left the apartment, then took the flight of stairs to the main level. Sure enough, he saw a bicycle messenger waiting outside the door. He took the package and gave the kid a tip before making sure the door closed tightly and then going back to the apartment. Johnny was back at work, immersed in his story, and Kendall knew he needed to let him work.
