A Matter of When
Page 25
One perfect moment,
Of one perfect day,
Of one perfect life….
“I’m a sap.”
“But you’re my sap.” Seb hugged him tighter.
Twenty-Seven
Twang, twaaaaaaannnnnng, Sylvia sang, working her magic with Michael’s fingertips on her strings. Holding true to his onstage persona, he appeared as a shadow against a wall, illuminated by a car’s headlights, larger than life on a movie screen.
Henri, playing a disfigured has-been rocker, half his face hidden in darkness, crooned, wooing his on-screen love with sweet words. Sebastian, as the talented young singer, Chris, warily glanced right and left, searching parked cars for his phantom mentor, the one who coached him, nurtured him, yet never showed his face.
Chris intoned, “Where are you, why can’t I see you?” in a tenor that would soon bring the world to its knees. The sound man knew his stuff: Seb’s voice seemingly echoed off the walls of the set.
A low keening answered him, an unseen Tessa speaking through the new Tibetan bowls Henri’d given her as a gift.
Closer and closer the phantom and Chris came, until finally, the scarred rock star and unblemished protégé met face to face for the first time.
“I am ruined,” Henri sang, against Sebastian’s “Beautiful to me.”
Together they raised their voices, their locked gazes full of meaning. “Meant to be, meant to meet, meant to share our music.”
The credits rolled. Behind Henri his mother sniffed. “That is so sweet.”
Henri turned to Sebastian, seated beside him. “He is, isn’t he?”
Applause filled the theater, and as the lights rose, so did the audience. From Henri’s other side, Lucas murmured, “You’ve surpassed any hopes I had.” He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Henri wrapped him in a one-armed hug. Chances were Lucas still saw Annette on screen, reflected in their son. Lucas reached past Henri to clutch Sebastian’s hand. Sharon clung to his other. “I am damned proud of you both.”
Sebastian didn’t speak. He merely beamed at his father and new stepmother. The newness of suddenly having living parents hadn’t worn off yet.
“Are you ready?” Henri asked.
Seb nodded. Lucas stepped aside to let Henri and Sebastian out of the aisle. Back pats and compliments followed them from the theater to a pack of waiting reporters.
“Mr. Lafontaine, what made you decide to produce a musical?”
“A good script, a good cast, and the need to challenge myself and my band.” Lucas had drilled him on possible questions, and Sharon—in black this time—hovered near the back of the group to get the last word in.
Tessa, Michael, Jake, and Colton fanned out behind Henri and Sebastian, joined by Jenni and Henri’s parents. They still had issues to work out, but Jenni openly hugged her brother. Despite his threat, she’d appeared in the movie as a helpful shop girl, not a nun.
“Mr. Unger, do you intend to pursue an acting career or can we count on seeing you back on the opera circuit soon?”
Sebastian eyed his father, who’d forbidden him to jeopardize his career with a name change. “Please, call me Sebastian. The future is yet to be determined. Right now, I’m earning my keep as a vocal coach, and collaborating with Henri on his upcoming album.”
The reporter turned his attention to the band. “Congratulations on your Grammy nominations for Best Rock Song and Best Rock Performance by a Group. What’s next for the band?”
Henri handled the question. “We’ll finish writing, take our new material to the studio, and start touring.”
Another reporter stepped up. “Is it true Hookers and Cocaine are going through more changes?”
Henri donned his best “surprised” face. “Really? No, I hadn’t heard that.” What he had heard was that after his band’s stellar performance as their opening act, the crowd left when Henri did.
After a few more innocuous questions, Sharon asked, “Mr. Lafontaine, some have said that the characters of Chris and the phantom are gay, and the ending song marked the beginning of their lives together. Was that your intention?”
The closet door opened. Henri and Seb stood at a crossroads. Henri glanced at Seb, who smiled. Now came their moment. “Actually, the beauty of the story is the audience can read into the subtext what they will. If, for instance, you’d like to imagine Chris and the phantom chugging beers and watching a Cubs game on TV, so be it. If, however”—he winked at the nearest camera—“you want to imagine the two main characters holding hands and ambling off into the sunset together, that’s your right. Imagine the ending as you want to.”
Henri laced his fingers with Seb’s, and the sidelong glance and half smile he threw his lover wouldn’t leave much doubt which ending would become reality. He and Seb had remade their lives. Being happy together was now, not “A Matter of When.”
Lyrics by Eden Winters
A Matter of When (New Version)
Where have you been?
All my life spent lonely
I know you’re out there
The one I’ve waited for
I know I’ll find you (and now I’ve found you)
It’s just a matter of when
A Matter of When (Date with a Bullet—Original Version)
Got a date with a bullet,
Got a date with a gun,
No matter what I do,
One day it’s gonna come
You say that you love me
But you only speak in lies
Put me down every minute
And I gotta say good-bye
‘Cause got a date with a bullet
Got a date with a gun,
And every day that I stay with you
The closer that day comes
Got a date with a bullet,
Got a date with a gun,
No matter what I do,
One day it’s gonna come
It’s just a matter of when
Ice Inside (Original Version)
Ice inside where her heart used to be
Though she hides it well so none can see
With a smile on her face she fools passersby
I know her well, I see the lie
They only see what she wants them to see
But she can never hide the truth from me
She feels so warm when she acts the part
He can’t see the icicle she has for a heart
He feels complete when she’s by his side
But there’s ice inside, there’s ice inside
He only sees what she wants him to see
But she can never hide the truth from me
Some may believe
Some won’t care
Deep within, she hides despair
Lonely with her lover near
The pain is more than she can bear
There’s ice inside, there’s ice inside
Ice inside where her heart used to be
Though she hides it well so none can see
With a smile on her face she fools passersby
I know her well, I see the lie
When she stands before her mirror at night
Only I can see the ice inside.
About Eden Winters
You will know Eden Winters by her distinctive white plumage and exuberant cry of “Hey, y’all!” in a Southern US drawl so thick it renders even the simplest of words unrecognizable. Watch out, she hugs!
Driven by insatiable curiosity, she possibly holds the world’s record for curriculum changes to the point that she’s never quite earned a degree but is a force to be reckoned with at Trivial Pursuit.
She’s trudged down hallways with police detectives, learned to disarm knife-wielding bad guys, and witnessed the correct way to blow doors off buildings. Her e-mail contains various snippets of forensic wisdom, such as “What would a dead body left in a Mexican drug tunnel look like after six months?”
In the process of her adventures she has written fourteen m/m roma
nce novels, has won several Rainbow Awards, was a Lambda Awards Finalist, and lives in terror of authorities showing up at her door to question her Internet searches. When not putting characters in dangerous situations she’s a mild-mannered business executive, mother, grandmother, vegetarian, and PFLAG activist.
Her natural habitats are airports, coffee shops, and on the backs of motorcycles.
Keep up with Eden and Rocky Ridge Books by joining the newsletter.
edenwinters.com
Edenwinters@gmail.com
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Lyrics by Eden Winters
About Eden Winters
Also by Eden Winters
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