What actually happened was that I burst into tears.
“Oh, hey, no, hey,” Allison soothed, putting an arm around my shoulders. “We can have this done in ten minutes and we’re only like, three minutes late now, it’s fine, we can handle it, anything you leave behind they’ll probably have in Latvia anyway.”
She was trying to help, but she’d picked a combination of words that only made me cry harder, my knees buckling as I stumbled to sit down on the bed. My ears burned with embarrassment at breaking down like this, but it was like a dam that had barely been holding in the first place burst.
“They won’t have Ward,” I whimpered between sobs, managing to set my coffee down on the floor before I spilled it. The last thing I needed was that to deal with.
The mattress creaked as Allison sat down beside me.
“Okay,” she said, putting a hand on my knee. “Okay. Talk to me.”
I sniffed, wiping at my eyes, but I couldn’t quite stop crying just yet. This was all so much.
“What’s the point of this?” I asked, waving at the pile of clothes I hadn’t folded lying all over the place. “Packing?”
“Uh.” Allison looked around the room. “Stuff goes in your suitcase so you can take it places with you?”
“No, I mean, what’s the point of going? So I can be as miserable in a foreign country as I always am here? So I can go stand in front of a camera for a paycheck while people yell at me and pull my hair between takes? What’s it for? I don’t even like this job!”
My stomach flipped as I realized what I’d said, and who I’d said it in front of. Allison had put my name forward for this, and the last thing I wanted was to sound ungrateful.
I was grateful. Grateful for the support, grateful for the faith.
But I couldn’t pretend I wanted this. Not anymore. Least of all to myself.
Maybe I expected Allison to yell, then, that she’d stuck her neck out for me and she couldn’t believe I was being so selfish.
Instead, she took my hand, linked our fingers together, and squeezed. Which only made me sob again, because it reminded me of how gentle Ward was, how good he’d always been to me.
“Everyone knows I’m gay,” I said. “You know what my new leading man asked me? The first thing that came out of his mouth? He asked me what my favorite musical was.”
“Whatisyour favorite musical?” Allison asked. Probably trying to distract me from the fact I was freaking out so badly I was physically shaking.
“Chicago, obviously,” I said. “But that’s not the point and you know it’s not the point.”
“Solid choice though. Personally preferWicked, but we can’t all have impeccable taste.”
“Oh my god, you really are gay.” I laughed.
“Bi,” Allison corrected. “But I take your point.”
“I don’t mind people knowing.” I sighed. “It’s not about that. It’s… you know that footage, of me with the squirrel?”
“I know it,” Allison said.
“That’s a theatre group one of my hometown friends runs. All queer kids. So they’d have somewhere to be themselves. And I dunno, but when I was hanging out with them, I remembered what it’s supposed to feel like? This whole… acting thing. It’s supposed to feel freeing. All this city ever makes me feel is trapped. First I was trapped in the closet, trapped in low-budget romantic dramas for people who get upset if I saydamnout loud. And now I’m out and I didn’t get to make that choice and I’m stuck with it, shoved in a little box labelledgayso I can be hauled out when people decide they want a little oh-so-saleable diversity in their latest painfully straight piece of fiction,” I said, remembering Spike, remembering the conversation I’d promised, the one I’d never gotten to have with him.
I regretted that.
I regretted a lot of things.
“I’mtired,” I said. “Aren’t you tired?”
“It’s really not fair that you get to be smartandsweetandpretty,” Allison said. “No wonder I had such a crush on you.”
I sniffed, rubbing at my eyes. “And now that you know I’m secretly a mess when I’m really upset and not just acting, you’re cured?”
Allison chuckled, squeezing my fingers. “Not entirely. I like a man who’s in touch with his feelings. I think it’s a friend crush now.”
