by RH Tucker
I shuffle my feet out of my bedroom, only one of which is wearing a sock, and make my way toward the kitchen. As I do, I hear Adam on the phone. We still haven’t been speaking much. We say hi and bye, stuff like that, but it hasn’t been the same since our argument.
He lets out a low, annoyed growl. “Jules, would you stop with that? … No, I can’t. You know why I can’t. Why do we have to have this talk every single time—”
I look over at him as I approach our kitchen door, and he rolls his eyes.
“You know that’s not true. What am I supposed to do, then, huh? You tell me!” he yells into the phone. His anger is enough to keep me from entering the kitchen. “I don’t know when. I have a movie coming out in a couple of months, and let’s not forget I’m nominated for best actor tomorrow night. … No, you know that’s not what I meant. You really think I’m only doing this to get awards and everyone’s approval? I told you it’d be like this when—” His eyes widen and his jaw drops. “Hello?”
Clenching his fist around the phone, he releases a furious yell and cocks his arm back as if he’s going to throw his phone across the room. Thinking better of it, he brings it toward his face and yells at it again. With a deep scowl, he flashes an angry look at me, then drops down on the couch.
I glance over my shoulder at the kitchen door, wondering if I should even broach the topic. Like I said, we haven’t spoken much, and this seems like a really personal and touchy topic. But at the end of the day I still consider him one of my best friends.
Taking a seat on the leather sofa next to him, I sit quietly for a moment. Neither of us says anything, and I almost second-guess myself. “They serve him decaf when he ordered regular?”
I think I made a grave mistake when his eyes snap over to me. It was meant to be a sort of ice breaker, but the hard line across his brow tells me it might’ve been too flippant a comment for the serious argument he just had.
Thankfully, he shakes his head and lets out a tiny chuckle. “Yeah, exactly.” Leaning back, he stares up at the cathedral ceilings of the penthouse. “I just … I don’t understand. I mean, I do, but I don’t. He knew I wasn’t going to go public. I told him when we first started talking that I couldn’t chance coming out yet. My entire career hangs in the balance.”
I don’t want to rock the boat. I already made the mistake of thinking our situations are the same. Still, a question has been lingering since we had our argument. “What would happen if you did tell people?”
He frowns, staring up above in thought.
“Or, at the very least, what would happen to you? Personally?” I ask.
“What’s that mean?”
“I know how serious this is to you, Adam. If people did shun you, or your career imploded from it … Yeah, it’d be horrible, but how would you take it? Like, is your career that important?”
Sitting up straight, he shrugs and stares at the floor in front of us. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. Ross has just ingrained it in me to always keep it quiet.”
I’m sure he thinks his manager is doing what’s best for him, and maybe I’m completely wrong, and he is. However, a part of me thinks he’s only doing what’s best for his career and not him personally. “Would you be happier with yourself and your life, not your career, but with your life if you could be open about your relationship? As open about yours that everyone else can? That I can? Or, at least, could.”
I frown at the thought but try to quickly shake it away.
“Honestly? I think so, but …” He takes a deep breath, then his gaze meets mine. “Man, I have to apologize.”
“For what?”
“The day we got in that fight. When I exploded for you calling me a coward.”
“I was out of line.”
“No. You weren’t. It’s something that’s been eating at me for a long time. I’ve been confused and scared and a little disgusted that I can’t do this. Come out and be with someone I care about. And every time Jules and I have one of these arguments, I wonder … is this it? Is this the one he gets fed up on waiting for me? I don’t know.”
There are no words of encouragement or knowledge I can give him. It seems like we’re both in situations where the decision is out of our hands, but at the same time, it’s not. He could announce he was gay to the world tomorrow, but then he’d have to fear the consequences of that. I could go to Cece and tell her the truth, but then I’d be asking her to make a choice she shouldn’t have to.
“He wanted to be my date tomorrow to the Icon Awards. You want the ticket?”
I raise a brow. “Really?”
He lets out a defeated chuckle, lifting his shoulders. “I don’t feel like faking it with another girl on my arm who Ross pulled out of his Rolodex.”
I can’t help the amused laugh that comes out. “I used to be so jealous that your manager had a list of girls for you.” The comment is enough to break through the despondent atmosphere. “Bro’s night at the award show? Sounds good.”
The Icon Awards are like the Academy Awards. The megastars in Hollywood gather to give each other awards for how great their movies are. While everyone gets dressed up for the event, it’s more fashionable than black tie tuxedoes and flowing dresses. They started about twenty years ago as kind of a rebel awards show. Filmmakers and actors who thought they weren’t being given a fair shot at the Oscars got fed up and threw their own party. In the years that have passed, it’s turned into a glamorous affair. I imagine in another twenty years, a small group will rebel against the Icons and form yet another award show.
But it is fun. Walking the red carpet, I try to stay in the background as reporters all talk to Adam. He’s nominated for best actor tonight, and the movie he’s in is nominated for five other awards. Occasionally, I’ll get roped into an interview when Adam calls me over, but for the most part, everyone is focused on the actors who are up for awards. It’s a little freeing to be honest.
Once we get inside, we find out seats, and the show begins. Even though we’re surrounded by the Hollywood elite, it’s nice to sit back and relax, knowing no one is watching me for any particular reason. We’re sitting close to the stage with a lot of the other big names up for awards.
When Adam’s category rolls around, I glance over at him and wiggle my eyebrows. He tries to play it off, but I think I see him tense up a little. As the presenters introduce the video package for the nominees, I watch as the different film clips roll. When it’s over, the presenters approach the microphone, holding a small white envelope.
“And the winner for best actor in a feature film goes to …” She tears open the envelope, and then smiles at the audience. “Adam Coleman.”
I start shaking his arm while the audience around us cheers. “All right, man!”
A few other actors congratulate him on his way up to the stage, and the presenter hands him his award, which is in the shape of a crystal ball. In the center of the ball is a large diamond that sparkles.
“Thank you,” Adam tells everyone, flattening out his tuxedo shirt quickly, then staring at the award. “Wow, this … this is amazing.” He scans the crowd, smiling the million-dollar Hollywood smile he’s known for. “I’d like to thank Francisco Laredo first, for directing an incredible picture. You’re the best, Cisco. Thanks to everyone who worked on the film; stagehands to production assistants, and of course, my incredible co-stars. Thank you. You all are some of the best people I know.”
Gazing at the award once more, a small, incredulous chuckle floats out. He’s about to continue when he looks over and sees me. I smile, nodding enthusiastically, expecting some more thanks before he gets off of the stage.
“Some of the best people,” he says again, but it’s more to himself than to us in the audience. His eyes stay on me, and though he smiles, it seems tempered. “People can be strange. You never really know the real person. And they don’t always know the real you. Once they find out …”
He takes a breath, staring aimlessly at the mic
rophone in front of him. Confusion comes over me because it doesn’t sound like an acceptance speech anymore.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he whispers to himself. Unfortunately, the microphone picks it up. I look around, seeing most of the crowd around us confused as to what’s going on.
“Um, I want to thank one of my best friends, Maddox Barkley. A lot of you guys know him as the King of Bad.”
I gaze at him, completely flabbergasted at what’s happening.
“You know, this award is amazing. And I love what I do. Pretending to be these characters is fantastic. But I think it was Marylin Monroe who once said fame is like caviar; it’s good but not for every meal. I love making movies, but … it’s not the end all be all.”
Holy crap. Is he doing what I think he’s going to do? I’m both amazed and horrified at the same time. What if he’s right and it ruins everything? Then again, what if I’m right and it’s all okay? Pride begins to swell within watching my friend find the courage.
“I have one more person I need to thank. To my Jules, Julian. I know I’m not perfect and I haven’t been the best boyfriend to you, but you have been to me. You’ve stayed by my side while I’ve cowered in the corner for fear of what might happen. I haven’t told you this yet, and it’s probably bad form to do it like this, but I love you.”
His eyes widen as if he surprised himself that he said it out loud. Taking one more beat, he looks out among his colleagues.
“I’ve been worried about coming out for years because I always feared what might happen. Fear of judgment or being shunned. But if this is the last role I’ll ever have, I’m good with that. And if I have to choose between being a character in a movie, or myself in life, I choose myself. You’re my anchor, Julian. Thank you. And thank you all tonight.”
Prodigious applause erupts from everyone in the crowd, and they all get to their feet. I follow suit and watch as everyone cheers, others reach out to him while he walks back to his seat, and the clapping continues.
All I can think about is how he had the courage— No, let’s just call it what it is, he had the balls to do what he just did, and I’m still sitting on my ass, not trying to right the course of my own life.
Getting back to his seat, I give him another hug. “You’re amazing.”
“Thanks,” he says with a laugh.
“I have to go.”
He nods with a huge grin. “I know.”
I rush out of the auditorium while the clapping begins to die down, and hurry out to the street. We took a limousine to the event, so there’s no parking area I can run to. Getting outside of the building, I find photographers, fans, and taxis all lining the streets. I hurry to one of the cabs and jump in, telling him to drive to Luxe.
I don’t know what I’m going to do or if Cece’s going to scream and kick me out. I’m not even sure I’ll be allowed in the club. She might have me on some kind of blacklist, barring me from entry. Regardless, after everything Adam just did, not only having the courage but inspiring it within me, I have to do this. I have to get to Cece and tell her the truth. I’ll hate myself and always wonder “what if” if I don’t.
Getting to the club, I practically run through the building and impatiently wait for the elevator to make its way up. It’s already the set time I’d usually be performing my first show, and as I get inside, I hurry past the crowd and the new DJ playing his music. Making my way up to Cece’s office, I don’t bother knocking and barge in.
Leslie and Tina are both inside, sitting around Cece’s desk. “Maddox? What are you doing here?” Leslie asks.
“Cece? Where is she?”
They both eye one another carefully, before Tina gives me a timid look. “I don’t think we’re supposed to—”
“Please!” I cry out. “Please, I need her to know.”
“Know what?”
“The truth.”
After another moment where they seem to be silently asking each other if they should tell me, Tina finally nods to Leslie. “She took the night off. She’s at home for a party her mom’s throwing.”
“Thanks!” I yell as I’m running out of the office.
32
Cece
The award show is playing in the background, but very few of us are paying attention. I think most of the people are only interested in which movie wins best picture of the year, and that award is always the last one given out.
Jonathan has been talking to me a little here and there. I know I told my father I’d give him a chance, and I have, but I think there’s less of a connection with him than I had with Winston, and that’s saying something. He’s mentioned how he graduated top of his class and had three high-profile job offers but turned them down. I think he thought it made him sound like he was being nice, working for his family instead of some prominent law firm, but he comes off kind of snooty. As if no other company could compare to his family’s, so why would he even bother?
Excusing myself from him for a moment, I head to the kitchen to not only get a breather but a drink. I didn’t think it’d be this tiring simply listening to someone go on and on about how great they are, but I already want to find some kind of excuse to get out of here. Stephanie called me to ask how it was going, and I almost asked her to stop by and kidnap me—at least that way I could later blame it on her—but she’s busy with Winston.
After teasing her again about their unlikely pairing, we hang up, and I down the rest of my cranberry cocktail. Maybe I can try to withstand one more hour of Jonathan and then find some sort of excuse to finally part ways with him. Then I’ll just have to pray that my father doesn’t organize another meetup.
“What are you doing here?” I hear my father hiss as I’m about to walk into the foyer. His stern tone lacing the words is enough to turn me around and see him at the entrance of our apartment. The doorway is open, but it looks like he’s trying to keep whoever’s at the door outside. Then I hear his voice.
“I don’t care what you say, I’m telling her the truth.”
“You’ll do no such thing.”
“Chester, what’s going on?” my mother calls out to my father, and I make my way over.
Getting to my father’s side, I see Maddox standing outside in a tuxedo. “Maddox, what are you doing here?”
“Cece, I need to tell—”
“Shut up, boy,” my father orders. Then he turns to me. “Cecelia, don’t worry. I’ll take care of this.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you will. You already made me break up with her,” Maddox spits out.
I don’t understand what’s happening, and immediately turn to my mother. She looks back at me, confused. “Daddy, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he says, with his gaze still locked on Maddox. “He must be drunk or something. Get out of here before I have our building security escort you out.”
“You can go to hell,” Maddox yells at him.
“Maddox!” I yell. Not because I’m angry but because I’m baffled.
“Fine, I’ll handle this myself,” my father says.
Stepping in front of Maddox, he grabs him by his tuxedo jacket. Maddox returns, grasping his arms, and a back-and-forth ensues between them. My mother cries out to my father while a few other guests hurry over, trying to break them apart. All I can do is stand there, stunned.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” my father growls at him.
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Maddox replies, then turns to me. “Cece, your father told me to break up with you.”
“What? No. That … that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s an asshole!” he yells. My father lunges at him, but is held back by two of his associates. “He said if I don’t break up with you, he’ll cut you out of your family. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to tell you. I thought the best thing to do was to listen to him, but I can’t. I didn’t want to make you choose, and I still don’t, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least te
ll you the truth.”
“No.” My gaze stays on him, one part still trying to understand what’s happening, but the other part of me unsure of what to believe. “He … he wouldn’t do that.”
I glance at my father, but he’s not paying any attention to me. He still has a furious gaze locked on to Maddox. I look back at my mother, and she seems just as confused as I do. Maddox stays where he is, watching me, and my questions begin to resurface. Why did he do what he did? Why tell me it never meant anything to him? Why the sudden change from who he told me was the real Maddox back to the King of Bad? And the answer would make sense. If my father did tell him that, it’d explain it. But … No, he wouldn’t do that. Would he?
“Daddy?” The word comes out as a whisper.
“Chester? Is this true?” my mother asks, and her tone is more of how I want to sound, but can’t. Appalled but not wanting to believe it.
My father finally breaks his eyes away from Maddox and looks over at me. “Cecelia, honey, why would I do that?”
I know why he would if he indeed did. He’d never approve of someone like Maddox. But I still can’t bring myself to believe it. “Daddy?” I repeat. “It’s … It’s not true, is it?”
“He’s no good for you,” he tells me, grabbing my arm. “You need to be taken care of.”
My face drops, and my hand comes up to my mouth. I feel the sting immediately piercing my eyes. “I can’t believe you.”
“Cece, you don’t understand,” he tries explaining, but I shake loose of his grasp. “Cecelia!”
I ignore his pleading and walk through the door. Maddox is about to pull me close when my father grabs my arm from the other side. “Honey, please. All I want is what’s best for you.”
A heartbreaking laugh comes out of me. I feel the tears slide over my cheeks as I pull my arm away from him. “And all I wanted was for you to want what’s best for me, too.” I turn back to Maddox. “Let’s go.”
