Only You

by Jerry Cole

  Harmony waited a moment before opening the door; it was as if she was trying to build anticipation around the moment. Indeed, her eyes were wild with glee and Bradley got the sense she was enjoying herself a little too much.

  But then, with extreme suddenness, she threw the door open and took a quick step back so Bradley could peak inside. And when he did... fuck, he might have been new to this but Bradley couldn’t imagine a world where what he saw wouldn’t make him feel like a kid on Christmas morning. To say he was excited would be an understatement.

  “Holy shit...”

  “Cool, huh?”

  “Yeah...” his eyes looked over the crappy little room. Truth be told, there was nothing special about it; Sherman’s reading room was bigger, and his own apartment was cleaner. But it was a sign of where his life was going and that alone was enough to have him gaping openly. “... very cool.”

  Bradley’s career was ascending at a rapid pace. Before lockdown had started, he’d auditioned for the lead role in a new TV drama called Firing Day. It was a dark, gritty show that Bradley just knew he was perfect for... and apparently the casting director agreed, because he got the role!

  And then Covid happened.

  Bradley was actually one of the lucky ones in regard to lockdown. After a week in, he got a call from Harmony herself who told him that the show would probably be going ahead, assuming that the whole Covid thing didn’t get any worse. Then, a month later when everything started to get better and the country began to open up again, he got another call in which he was told that the show was definitely going ahead. It was really happening.

  The production was set to start in just over a month’s time. This actually suited Bradley perfectly. The extra time would be used to rehearse and... well, that was it. He had a job now. He was getting paid (a very nice amount of money). And finally, he and the rest of the country were allowed back out of the house. Things could not get better.

  “Like I said, when the show they're currently filming is over, we’ll kick ‘em out and slot you on in.” Harmony hovered by the door to the dressing room, watching as Bradley slowly walked in, eyes moving over everything. “There’s a TV, shower and bathroom, wardrobe – you get the idea.”

  “And it’s all for me?” Bradley spun back to face Harmony. “I’m not sharing it with someone – not that I care,” he hurried.

  Harmony beamed her delight. “There’s that wanker actor I was looking for. And no, you don’t share. This is all you, babe.”

  “Fuck me,” Bradley exhaled. Getting the show was amazing. His pay was even better. But as silly as it might have sounded, this right here, being given his own changing room, was by far the best thing to happen to him yet.

  “No, thanks,” Harmony quipped. “Speaking of, there is a strict no sex policy while on set – that goes for all the studios and sound rooms. But having said that... I’ve also known a lot of people to disregard that rule entirely. So go nuts, is what I’m saying.”

  “Ah... thanks?”

  “You’re welcome!” she beamed. “Hey, you’re the talent. We’ve got to keep you happy.”

  It was strange to hear, but Bradley didn’t mind it. He’d spent so long wondering what it would be like to be an actor, to be famous and successful and to make it. Now that he was here... he had to pinch himself.

  “Oh!” Harmony jumped on the spot as if electrocuted. She then fumbled in her pockets and pulled out something round, shiny and metallic. “I bumped into the Prop Master earlier and he asked that I give you this.” She held her hand out, revealing what looked like some sort of badge.

  Bradley frowned as he held his own hand out and what he now saw to be a fake policeman’s badge. It was gold and made of plastic but looked as real as any he had ever seen. On it was his character’s name, rank and number. Fuck, this was his badge!

  “My badge...” He spoke like it wasn’t real.

  “Yeah, he thought it might help with your rehearsals. Actors,” she laughed and shook her head to herself.

  “I get to keep this?” Bradley asked, wide-eyed. It was such a silly thing, but he couldn’t believe it.

  “Too right... Detective.” Harmony winked and Bradley grinned. Yep, this was now officially real.

  Needless to say, when Bradley arrived home an hour or so later, he was in a rather good mood. This was helped greatly by the fact that now, after a brief period of awkwardness and tension, Sherman’s apartment was once again a happy place... for all intents and purposes.

  If any proof of this was needed, it greeted Bradley as soon as he walked inside. Not Sherman. but the food he was making. The smell of garlic and onion frying together wafted from the kitchen and drifted into the living room; a clear indication that things had indeed changed.

  “In here!” Sherman called from the kitchen. Bradley knew where he was – there could be no doubt – but Sherman still enjoyed announcing it every time Bradley came home, as if to emphasize the fact. It could have been annoying, but Bradley found it cute.

  “Hey ho,” Bradley crooned as he stumbled into the kitchen just in time to see his boyfriend empty an entire chopping board’s worth of foodstuffs into a wok that was already heating on the stove top. “What is going on in here?” he asked, pretending to look shocked.

  “Just a little somethin’ somethin’,” Sherman bragged. “For my little somethin’ somethin’.” He stuck his lips out as if kissing the air, and Bradley hurried forward and leaned into it.

  “What do you call this one?” he indicated enthusiastically to the mass of veggies and what looked like chicken mixed together in the wok.

  Sherman shrugged and started to stir. “Just a stir-fry – you haven’t eaten lunch yet, have you?”

  “Are you kidding?” Bradley pretended to look hurt. “I just expect to come home now and be treated to one of your... creations. My day just wouldn’t be the same without a little food poisoning.”

  For a minute, Bradley assumed Sherman was going to have a go at him for joking about how bad his cooking was – it was rather average, truth be told. But instead, Sherman beamed and then pressed his lips together tightly, as if trying to stop himself from crying. “I love how you call this place home now.”

  Bradley rolled his eyes, but then leaned in and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. “It rolls off the tongue better than Sherman’s place.”

  “That it does – now, unpack, shower and do whatever it is you need to get ready. I expect you seated here in ten minutes for lunch. No exceptions.” He pointed toward the bedroom like an army drill sergeant.

  “Yes, sir.” Bradley saluted and then marched in the direction of the bedroom; he could hear Sherman giggling as he went.

  Yes, things had changed quite significantly between the two men since their fight roughly five weeks ago. When that fight broke out, the two themselves were at breaking point; the house was a warzone with neither willing to give any ground. Now however, they had slipped into a routine that seemed to suit them both perfectly. There was no more fighting, no arguing, no pettiness or hiding from one another or anything silly like that.

  They were, quite possibly, the happiest they had ever been.

  A big part of this was Bradley’s leaving the house every other day. Even before his show was officially greenlit, he’d gotten into the habit of meeting the cast and some of the crew on most days for rehearsals. The days were long and grueling; they ran lines, they worked through the logistics of certain scenes, broke down characters, and discussed stunts, costumes and really anything and everything. It was tough work, but it’s what Bradley lived for.

  Being able to leave the house was key, as it gave he and Sherman a little time apart. Not that he relished being away from Sherman, but it was necessary. Even couples as strong as they were risked breaking into tiny little pieces when forced together for so long. It just wasn’t natural.

  Sherman, and his new-found lease on life, was another reason that things were going so well for the two. Honestly... it was the biggest
reason, bar none. That fight they’d had had triggered something inside of Sherman, and after he had come back with his tail between his legs, he’d endeavored to change himself as much as he could.

  Well, he’d done that. So much so that he was almost a new man.

  Firstly, he wasn’t anywhere near as possessive or annoying. He didn’t try and keep Bradley from getting out of bed every morning or complain when he left the house all day. He didn’t make jokes about how lonely he was, or how Bradley was ignoring him or anything like that. He just acted normal, which Bradley was beyond grateful for.

  Secondly, he had started actually helping around the house! It began with little things, like taking the trash out or sweeping the floor. But then he started doing the dishes, washing clothes and he even began to cook! Better too that this was something Bradley had to teach him, which gave the two something to do together rather than have sex and watch television.

  “But... if boiling water makes eggs hard, why does it make pasta soft?” Sherman had asked, dumbfounded, during one of their first lessons.

  “Huh?” Bradley had blinked back his surprise. He understood the question perfectly... he just hadn’t known how to answer.

  “Am I the only one that doesn’t get it – like, I’m not an idiot, am I?” Sherman had been holding a handful of raw pasta in his hand, ready to throw it into a pot of boiling water.

  “Just toss the pasta in, will you,” Bradley had laughed and shook his head. “Unless you want to just eat it raw?”

  His cooking wasn’t great. When he cleaned, he more often than not missed giant patches. And for some reason, he insisted on doing all laundry on the ‘delicates’ setting, which left their towels and sheets still dirty. But he was trying his best, and that’s what mattered.

  And he was getting better! The stir fry he made them for lunch that day was proof of that. The two men settled in across from one another at the dining room table, a bowl each of stir fry sitting in front of them. Lunch time. And with the stir fry smelling the way it did too, even Bradley was looking forward to it.

  “I added egg to it,” Sherman explained excitedly as he pulled his chair in. “I was reading on Jamie Oliver’s website that egg thickens it up... or something like that? Don’t know what it means, but figured I’d try it.” His expression was eager as he scooped up a forkful of veggies and gave them a blow.

  “You looked it up?” Bradley asked with an impressed smile. “In advance?”

  “Yeah,” Sherman frowned. “How else would I do it.”

  “You make a good point.” Bradley shook his head to himself and stuck his fork into the bowl, skewering a piece of chicken and broccoli. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

  “Why?” Sherman asked accusingly.

  “No reason.” Bradley shrugged and took a large bite off his fork. To his delight, it was better than nice. It was absolutely delicious.

  There was a moment then. It might have been a second long. It might have been half of that. But in that moment, the two men looked at one another and smiled. Really smiled. They smiled with their mouths, with their eyes, and with their hearts. It was a tiny moment, but Bradley felt it deeply.

  Neither man had said ‘I love you,’ yet. Bradley almost had a few months ago, before lockdown, but that had felt too soon. Then during lockdown, with all that drama, it just never felt right. But now... was this the moment to say it?

  Another second and the moment passed like it had never been. The two men went back to eating and that was that.

  Bradley had thought Sherman would say it first. He thought he’d felt it coming several times already, only for it never to arrive. It was such a silly thing too, and so insignificant that it hardly seemed worth worrying about. But even still... he couldn’t help but wonder why not. In regard to both he and Sherman. Why couldn’t they say it?

  Bradley gave his head a shake and the two men went back to enjoying their lunch together. They chatted, they laughed, they planned their evening at home together like nothing was wrong. And that’s because nothing was.

  Sherman was trying his best in all facets of their relationship. It was almost like he was going out of his way not to be a burden. When Bradley left each morning now, it was always with a kiss and a smile and a command to have the best day possible. And when he returned – no matter how late – Sherman was again nothing but positive. Not once did he chastise about the late return time, or whine about being left at home all day long. Sherman had done a complete turn-around.

  It was thus inevitable that Bradley became suspicious.

  “So... what have you been doing today?” Bradley asked casually. It was a couple hours after lunch, and the two men were sitting together watching Netflix. The show wasn’t important, just one they’d been coming back to every now and then, but the mood was relaxed.

  “This mainly,” Sherman shrugged. “And a little of that.”

  “Right... this and that.” Bradley took a forkful of chicken and slowly began to chew. “TV?” he pressed. “Watch anything – nothing good though. Save the best for us, obviously.”

  “Nope,” Sherman responded pleasantly. “Too busy cooking this – oh! For dinner tonight, I’m thinking of doing a full bake dinner. Chicken, potato's, pumpkin, onion and gravy. What do you think?”

  “Sounds good...” Bradley said slowly. He took another bite of his chicken. “Do we have all of that?”

  “I stepped out earlier and bought it – I know, I know, I should have let you know in case I got lost trying to find the supermarket.” He giggled to himself and shook his head at the joke. “But I got in and out in one piece. I tell you what, Sherman from last month would be so proud of me.”

  “That he would.”

  It was silly. Stupid. Ridiculous. And also, wrong. But Bradley could just tell that something wasn’t right here. Sherman was too happy, too bright, too enthusiastic about such mundane things. If it had only been a week or so, Bradley would have just assumed he was over-correcting from before – that's what Bradley had assumed! But it had been over a month now and Sherman was this same positive self. It was odd.

  That night, Bradley searched the house for drugs. It was a low moment, but he had no choice. He needed to know. He had to! He was sure that there wasn’t anything – there'd been no indication that Sherman was using again. But considering how odd everything had been... he needed to know.

  He waited until Sherman was in the shower to check. Then he did a complete sweep of the house, checking all the hotspots that Sherman used to use. Nothing. He listened for a moment to make sure that the shower was still running, then he widened his search. Still nothing.

  Bradley wanted to believe that everything was fine... but there was that voice nagging away at the back of his head. Now especially that he was starting to realize Sherman had all day to himself to get his fix. Maybe that’s why his mood was always so damn high.

  “What are you doing?” Sherman suddenly appeared in the doorway to the spare room. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and was still wet.

  “Oh!” Bradley was on his knees, looking under the bed for only God knew what. “Hey! Just looking for...” Up and walking to Sherman now, the next words out of his mouth seemed to come from nowhere. “I’m going to be out all day tomorrow.” It was a lie. “Probably until at least... seven at night, I think. Is that all right? You’ll be fine?”

  Sherman thought for a moment, the briefest of moments, and then shrugged. “That’s fine, I’ll be here.”

  “You won’t be bored?” Bradley pressed casually.

  “Nope.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I dunno – what's with all the questions?” he laughed. “Getting into character?”

  “Something like that – oh, check this out.” Bradley suddenly remembered something. He stepped past Sherman and hurried to the bedroom. On the floor were his pants from earlier, so he crouched down and pulled his police badge out from the pocket.

  “What’s that?” Sherman w
as standing right behind him.

  Bradley stood and handed him the badge. “Looks real, huh.”

  “So real.” Sherman looked it over. “Just no method acting, thank you.”

  “Yeah,” Bradley agreed lightly as he took the badge back. “If you catch me being a hard ass over the next few days, this is why.”

  “Lucky you won’t be here.”

  “Lucky.”

  The guilt flooding through Bradley was unbelievable, but he told himself he had no choice. He needed to prove to himself that everything with Sherman was on the level... that his suspicions were unfounded. Once he was able to do that, once he knew for sure, then this relationship would surely go to another level. Maybe then he’d finally be able to say, “I love you.’

  As the two men climbed into bed later that night, that was the lie that Bradley told himself over and over again. He had to, otherwise he might have drowned over the guilt.

  Chapter Twenty

  After a solid five weeks of weekly meetings, Sherman was starting to reach a point in his life where the idea of having to see Curly – and his crew – in the flesh, didn’t have him shaking in absolute fear. Seriously, he used to wake up on the mornings of these proposed meetings covered in a cold sweat. He used to have minor panic attacks in the shower. The drive to Curly’s clubhouse were filled with positive affirmations and assurances from himself that everything would be fine. It used to really stress him out!

  Now however... well, it was different. The fear was gone. The panic was over. Now, Sherman was in the habit of treating his meetings with Curly like he would any other business meeting; he was cool, collected and just a little cocky.

  It was a huge improvement to be sure, but at the same time, getting used to Curly, and what the two men were doing together, wasn’t a good thing. Not even close.

  Sherman’s day started at 9:30am in an empty parking lot twenty minutes west of the city. It was one chosen specifically for its remoteness; a sort of concrete desert that hadn’t been used to its full potential in years. The buildings that surrounded it were abandoned, the closest suburb was kilometers away, and the few cars that were parked there when Sherman pulled in were either burned out or missing wheels.