But I’ve hurt people to get there. Jack. Even Anderson, though he hurt me right back, so I still don’t feel much remorse about that.
I told Roberta if she couldn’t fix things, I’d quit, but we both know that threat was hollow. Making movies is the only thing I know how to do. But maybe it’s the means that don’t work for me anymore.
The door opens, and Vin slips in quietly. He settles next to me on the mattress, on top of the sheets.
“You okay?”
“Spiralling in an existential quagmire but otherwise peachy.”
“They’ve decided on the late-night option. Roberta thinks the combination of humor and bravado will help soften the dude-bro fans who might be pissed otherwise.”
I close my eyes. She means they’ll be pissed I’m gay, like those are people I need to ingratiate myself to.
Vin sighs. “Yeah, I don’t like it either.”
“And then they’re banishing me to rom-com purgatory.”
“It’s not the script I would pick for your first out role. But yeah. If you can’t make it with the Memorial Day weekend blockbuster fans, then you get to try to buy goodwill with the summer date-night couples.”
It’s not enough. Maybe I’m burnt-out onShadow League. I certainly don’t want to cater to those toxic masculinity fans who say I can’t be a real hero because of who I love. But there has to be something between that and playing the sidekick who’s only defined by his sexuality. Something I’m excited to do.
“And this is how it’s going to be?” I say.
“Unless you start your own production company so you can green-light pictures you want to be involved in, yeah. Roberta says jump, and we step off the cliff.”
And hope the studios and moviegoers will be there to catch us when we land.
Unless we build our own net.
I sit up suddenly. Vin, who had curled onto his side, grumbles.
“What now?”
“When’s the late-night interview?”
“Roberta’s still working on it, but probably tomorrow afternoon.”
Is that enough time?
“Where’s the script?” I ask.
“Which one?”
“Any one. Find me something. Something queer. Something that won’t get made unless it’s got a big name attached to it.”
“ButBeloved Cove—”
“Not that one. That one’s pandering. It says ‘I’m gay, and I’m sorry.’ I don’t want to apologize.” Well, there are a few things I’m sorry for, but I’m not using my art and influence to hide who I am anymore.
“You want a protest piece?”
“No. Nothing overtly political, no sad histories. I want something that’s got raw potential. On a submarine. Set in space. I don’t care. Something that will only work because it’s got my name on it.”
He cocks a hip, but he’s smiling. “You want a gay space submarine movie that’s basically a one-man Hamlet?”
“Vin! Find me a script before I have to go grovel to a guy in a tie with a monogrammed mug in front of a live studio audience.”
“Okay.” He pauses with his hand on the door. “What do I tell Roberta?”
“That I’m asleep. Otherwise, nothing.” I’m about to blow up her formula, and I want to have all the pieces lined up before I tell her.
I’m done letting other people manage me. Done letting them pretend to be me or that there’s only one way to play this game.
From now on, I’m only going to be myself.
Someone I can be proud of. Someone Jack can trust.
