“I too have questions,” Shondra says while I review the menu’s dubious offerings. I’m tempted to ask if Lars is part-owner of this unorthodox establishment, but I don’t want to pry.
“You simply have to be a bit adventurous,” Lars says and squeezes Adam’s shoulder. Laying hands on my boyfriend without my permission? Strike three. “Give your gastronomical fate over to the chef. How about we order samplers to start?”
We agree to Lars’s sampler idea, though I have no intention of eating it. The next indecency we’re expected to endure are tiny, brightly patterned bibs like those made for infants. I refuse to wear mine on principle but help Adam with his. Shondra also declines the accessory, claiming that it clashes with her outfit, which only makes me respect her more.
“Let’s talk shop,” Shondra says because time is indeed money. “What’s your concept for this movie, Lars? And where does Adam fit in?”
Lars goes into his synopsis forSoldier of Chaos, a near-future spy thriller where the main character—presumably Adam—is conducting government espionage while battling sexy, duplicitous cyborgs. The plot sounds both convoluted and contrived, but I keep my opinions to myself.
“And your budget for the first movie?” Shondra asks because the proof is in the pudding. Lars gives a figure that is vastly below market for this sort of production.
“Does that include post-production?” I ask. “Quality CGI doesn’t come cheap.”
“Certainly. I have an outfit in China that gives me a great deal on after-effects. It costs practically nothing.”
Adam nods like it all makes sense to him. Shondra and I exchange a look.
“What’s your timeline?” she asks.
“Shooting will start this winter in Morocco and go for roughly nine months, assuming we can stick to the production schedule.”
Hold the goddamned phone.
“Morocco?” I ask. “I didn’t see that in the proposal.”
“Yes, yes,” Lars enthuses and pivots toward Adam for the sell. “Imagine, you are running through a busy open market in Marrakesh with the bad guys closing in, dodging street vendors and overturning carts, ducking into alleyways to escape. People shouting, animals everywhere. So many vibrant colors. And the landscapes. We can travel from the desert to snow-capped mountains in just a few hours. Morocco has it all.”
“Including laws criminalizing homosexuality,” I add. “Ones that can land you in prison.”
“Yes, well, that’s the other matter I wanted to discuss with you,” Lars says, then goes on to detail the contract’s morality clause, which goes well beyond discretion and right into invasion of privacy.
“You want my character to be straight?” Adam says.
“Yes, and your personal life will need to mirror that aesthetic as well,” Lars says, “at least for the duration of filming the franchise.”
“That’s ludicrous,” I sputter, alarmed at his gall. Lars frowns at me like I’m the problem, and I consider using the baby spoon I’ve been given to scoop out his eyeballs. “You’re basically asking Adam to go back in the closet.”
“Not all the way in,” Lars says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You can keep the door cracked a little.”
“This is absurd,” Shondra says, spoiling for a fight.
“I’m a sexual enigma,” Adam proclaims. “That’s, like, my whole vibe.”
“Yes, and we need you to be a heterosexual certainty,” Lars says. “That’s what the people want. Americans especially. They like their action heroes to be courageous and strong.”
“You can be courageous and strong and gay,” Shondra says icily. She is definitely getting a gift basket.
“Well, yes, but I need men to see themselves in this character, and women to think they will be seduced by him. That is the fantasy we’re selling. Don’t blame me for the narrow-mindedness of your countrymen. I don’t make the rules.” He sits back with an arrogant twirl of his hand.
I figure Adam will shut it down then and there, but he’s wearing his thinking face, a single bifurcated line that interrupts his otherwise smooth, unblemished forehead. This can only mean trouble. I shoot Shondra a look that says,let’s wrap this up.
“We’d love to stay and discuss it further, but we have a long commute ahead of us,” she says, pushing away her plate of untouched mush. “Have your people send us the full script and contract to review. We’ll be in touch.”
* * *
“It wouldn’t be forever,”Adam says on the car ride home. He’s trying to convince me that signing onto this movie franchise is the right move. “I mean, we’re pretty low-key as it is.”
He’s referring to our big, gay romance. Adam choosing to go back into the closet would fuck up my future plans royally. But I have to be smart about this. I have to make him think rejecting the offer is his idea. Otherwise, he’ll see me as the destroyer of his dreams.
