by J. P. James
“How are you holding up?” Hudson asks.
He brings me a coffee from the waiting room. I hold the cup with both hands, letting it warm my face. It tastes like nothing, but it’s hot and helps me clear my head.
“My hands are still shaking,” I tell him. I lift my hand and show him the evidence. He nods as he climbs into the driver’s seat and fires up the engine.
“Sidney and Jane already have beds. They were both alert and in good spirits when I spoke to the nurse. She said they should be fine, but I left our numbers in case they need an emergency contact,” Hudson tells me.
With careful hands, Hudson pulls the truck out of the hospital. We make our slow return to the station. Return trips always have a mind of their own. There’s nothing that requires us to rush back, so it often feels like we’re moving at a snail’s pace. Time moves so slow that my mind can’t help but drift back to the sidewalk. I replay the image of Sidney fighting for his life, and then he and his soulmate surviving the ordeal together.
“Hey,” Hudson says.
His voice brings me out of my head. I shake off the memory and face him.
A smile graces his lips. “I think we should start fencing again. Find an academy.”
I look at him. It does the trick, taking me out of the smoke plumes and into the passenger seat. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confirms. “We need to take care of ourselves. It’s not just for fun for me. I think it helps me stay sane.”
I nod silently, but Hudson continues.
“I think Ricky would want us to do that too, to take care of ourselves.”
I look at my brother. He keeps his eyes on the road, but they hold a softness I haven’t seen in the last 48 hours.
“How do you feel about him?” I ask point blank.
He glances at me, his eyes narrowed but still just as soft.
“The same as you feel,” he tells me.
I look out at the street again, seeing the people come and go. Couples, friends, family, and complete strangers move around one another in an intricate web. Some matter to each other and some don’t. I see them all, but my mind hones in on one brown eyed, brown haired boy.
“I love him,” I breathe out. “I’m in love with him. I didn’t think it could happen so soon, after–,” my voice trails off, but Hudson knows what I mean.
“I do too,” he admits.
I put my hand on his shoulder, rubbing it to comfort us both.
“I wanted to throw Janine into the Hudson River when she kissed him,” I say.
Hudson laughs meekly, turning onto the fire station’s street.
“I haven’t been able to think right since it happened,” he keeps going. “But seeing Sidney and Jane changed my mind. It cleared up the mess in my head.”
“Yeah?” I say, not really asking but wanting him to continue.
“He cares about her, that’s obvious, but maybe he isn’t jerking us around. What if Ricky really wants to make this work? He’s still sorting things out but I think I want to be by his side while he does,” Hudson declares.
We pull into the station, lost in our own heads as Hudson turns off the ignition. Sean is there. He responded to another call across town, but he heard about the vet clinic fire. He pats our backs as we head upstairs.
It’s only been a few hours, but the day already feels like there’s been 24 hours packed into it. I want to go home more than anything but I could use a shower. I want to cleanse myself from the afternoon, without forgetting the lessons Sidney and Jane taught me.
“If Danny kissed you, would you push him away?” I whisper as we ascend the stairs.
He nods. “Of course.”
We stumble into the room and collapse onto the couches.
“I would too.”
Hudson watches me fiddle with the remote, patiently waiting for me to continue. When I give up, I throw the remote at my feet.
“What if Janine and Ricky break up, but she’s still in his life? Could you handle that?” Hudson asks.
I look towards the ceiling. I try to imagine what Ricky would do if the opposite were the case. When I look back down, Hudson’s eyes are glued to mine.
“I trust him,” I say confidently. “If he says he wants to be with us and still be her friend, I have to trust him. He’d do the same for us.”
Hudson snorts and nods. “As complicated as that sounds, you’re right.”
He rubs his forehead. I copy the motion, trying to sooth the ache in my head. The same incessant image pops back into my head and it has me reach out to Hudson for support.
“Sidney and Jane were holding hands, even though they were on the verge of passing out. That’s what I want. I want what Sidney and Jane have, and I think we could have that with Ricky. You said we aren’t close-minded, but we haven’t dated a bisexual guy before. If that’s how he identifies, it still doesn’t change how I feel about him. I love him.”
Hudson bites his lips, but nods when he’s done trying to convince himself I’m wrong. When I’m right, I’m right.
“It sounds complicated, but nothing’s been easy lately. If we had to do it over again, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Hudson and I share a smile.
“Now, I have to shower,” he tells me. “And you should too. We have someone we have to talk to.”
18
Ricky
“Ricky Stephens,” the casting director calls as she steps out of the locked room.
“Hello,” I say as I stand from the group of actors in the hallway.
In my rush to greet her, I stand and trip over my own foot. The script I quickly printed out drops to the floor, papers scattered everywhere. Well, great.
I try to recover but my nerves are now through the roof. When I meet the casting director’s eyes, she looks at me with that familiar look of pity. I ignore it, but when I clear my throat, nothing dislodges. I still have the same lump I had when I stepped through the doors of the studio.
She smiles and gestures for me to follow, but I get the vibe that she’s already written me off. I have to calm down in the next ten seconds, or else this audition is over before if even begun.
I don’t know how this even happened. When Fyre called a couple hours ago, I thought it was a prank. In fact, his friend is the director. He asked Fyre to bring in some actors he trusted last minute, and that’s when Fyre dialed my number. The audition is for A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I’m going for the role of Lysander, a handsome man devoted to the beautiful girl Hermia. After the surprise cancellation this morning, I had already written off the entire day as a wash. Not three hours later, I’ve found another chance to show off my acting abilities.
The casting director throws one more disapproving look my way, which I promptly ignore as my feet carry me into the room. If the audition ended here, she’d definitely pass the role to someone else.
I sigh as I step through the door. There are four chairs seated at the front of the room, and a camera just to their left. Thankfully, there’s one face here that I can count on to be on my side.
“Thank you, Ricky,” Fyre cheers as he stands.
He walks over to greet me to the chagrin of his companions. As Fyre pulls me into a hug, they share sideways glances and more disapproving looks. They look me up and down just the same as the casting director did. Seriously, I know acting is about looks as much as talent but this feels ridiculous. Just let me prove you wrong, my brain yells at them.
“This is Ricky Stephens. I sent you’re his headshot earlier today. He’s here on my recommendation,” Fyre states.
He throws me a light wink as he moves back to sit with his colleagues.
I keep still, seeing the team devolve into heated whispers. The director even covers his face with a copy of the script.
I close my eyes, willing my heart to calm down. There’s been so much stress the past couple days that I wouldn’t put in past my body to shut down entirely. I focus on my breath by pushing air in and out in even puffs.
“Alright Mr. Stephens,” the director announces.
Crap. I open my eyes, my breath not much better than it was when stepped inside.
“I’m Clive Williams and I’ll be directing the show.” His hand comes up, shooing me towards the mark in the middle of the floor.
I bunch the script in my hand and pull my feet up from the ground. I place my left foot on the blue “X” and wait for the cue.
The casting director is the last to pay attention. She looks my headshot over one last time, shaking her head, before she draws up and pinches her face into that unconvincing smile.
“Alright Ricky,” Clive says. “We’re rolling. You can start whenever you’re ready.”
I take a deep breath in and feel it lodge in my chest. Well, screw it. This might be a disaster. It’ll probably be another one in a long line of rejections. I don’t know what I have left to give. I don’t know what I have once I leave this room. I’m here either way, so here goes nothing.
“Stay, gentle Helena. Hear my excuse,” I speak.
I feel the tether of Shakespeare’s words come to me, and I grab onto it tight. I imagine declaring my love proudly for my paramour, for my paramours.
“My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!” I declare, holding the script to my hip like a sword.
I do my best to captivate my audience, while also forget that they’re even here. I zone out, remembering how it felt to rehearse in the twin’s living room. That room, above all others, has been my haven. I’ve slept there and made love there. Pieces of my heart and soul are still on the coffee table, waiting for me to come home. It both hurts and helps to remember the apartment, because it draws my thoughts back to them. I use the pain and confusion to fuel my performance, my attempt to inspire the crowd.
When I’m acting, it’s one of the only times when I feel at home. Stories inspire me to share myself with others, and share human experiences with people around me. When I bring a character to life, it feels a bit like my child. It’s my creation, something that’s wholly me, and then I put it out into the world for others to appreciate and understand.
My mind flashes to Hayden and Hudson as I run through the lines. Acting is especially hard when people don’t believe in your craft. Janine wasn’t terrible, but no one’s been as supportive as Hayden and Hudson have been. They inspire me to push my own boundaries, and not be afraid to show myself to the world.
Thinking of the twins, I breeze through the rest of the dialogue all the way through the last syllable. My chest heaves but puffs out proudly. I feel the light shining in my eyes, emitting from somewhere deep in my soul and radiating out. I did it. I put my heart into this character, and now the rest is out of my hands.
Fyre is the first to move. He flashes a giant smile and claps, looking towards the others for confirmation. Unlike Fyre’s obvious approval however, the others are much harder to read. Clive sits idly, stroking his chin. He must have had facial hair at some point, and this is a phantom tic from those earlier days. His eyes are hard, staring towards me but not at me. The casting director has her head cradled in her hand, leafing through the other headshots. If I asked her the time of day, she’d just walk away.
The air that was freely flowing in my lungs catches once again. The world shrinks around me but I try to keep it hidden from them. I can break down once I’m out of the room, but not now.
“I have an idea!” Clive announces as he shoots out of his chair. The casting director throws one of the headshots in the air on accident, while Fyre looks curiously at me, and then back to Clive.
“Idea?” Fyre asks.
Clive steps out from the table and runs across the room, leafing his way behind a wall of curtains.
“Aha,” he says.
His broad back pulls up, and with him comes a prop.
A sword.
A glimmer of hope sparks inside me. He walks my direction, gripping the hilt, and then handing it over before he sits back down. I turn back towards the table, the fake longsword drawn to my side.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier. Can you pretend you’re a swordsman? Nothing special, just think about any movie you’ve seen and go with it,” he instructs, his eyes dancing amusedly.
Pretend, he says. Well, I’ll do a lot more than that.
I angle the sword across my body, planting my right foot forward and left foot to my side. I squat, and I swear I hear the director gasp when he sees my extension.
My mind drifts back to the living room again. I remember the three of us gallivanting across the room. I can hear the laughter and feel the tension like I’m there now, and I draw the feeling into the tips of my fingers.
I advance so fast that everyone’s heads jerk at the action. My foot drags behind me as I thrust the sword out, grunting as I strike the imaginary target.
“Wow,” I hear the director comment. I don’t acknowledge it, and instead run through the exercise.
I strike again, causing the casting director to gaps as she covers her mouth. I draw back as my enemy takes the upper hand. I prance around, back and forth, in control of my entire body as I sink into the scene. I only last a minute, but I pull air into my lungs as I bow for the table.
They all stand and applaud. Fyre throws in a whistle for added flare. I feel my cheeks burn up, but hopefully they chalk it up to working up a sweat.
“That was great,” Clive says simply, but his smile speaks volumes. “We’ll be in touch. Have a great day, Mr. Stephens.”
I come back to the apartment for dinner, an hour after the guys’ shift ended. I’ve spent the whole trying not to bother them, but now that it’s time, I can barely contain myself
“Listen up!” I shout as I throw the door open.
Hayden and Hudson run out of the kitchen. I can smell something delicious cooking from their direction, but it has to wait. Everything has to wait because these guys have waited long enough for me.
“I’ve decided,” I say, taking in a large gust of air, “that I don’t know if I’m bisexual or gay. More importantly, it doesn’t matter to me.”
They both cross their arms, mirror images of each other. I march across the room and stop in front of their faces. They may be taller than I am, but I’m the one that has the stage right now. They’re going to listen to me whether they like it or not.
“I am in love with both of you,” I profess. “I don’t want to be with anyone else. I love Janine but I’m not in love with Janine, or Sarah, or even the damn Tooth fairy. My boyfriends are Hayden and Hudson Jones. They are the most important people in my life, regardless of my sexuality. So there!”
Their arms drop at once. The thought crosses my mind that maybe they are in fact clones. If that’s the case, then I’m in love with a pair of clones. Still doesn’t change anything.
“Well, what do you have to say to that?” I beg the question, my hands propped on my hips.
They share a look, and I see both of their shoulders relax. Their smiles grow a little at first, but they only get bigger as they turn towards me.
“I love you too,” Hayden says.
“I love you Ricky,” Hudson follows.
The overwhelming feeling of home envelops me the moment the words leave their mouths. I feel the warmth of the past three months seep back into my bones, warming me for years to come.
“You do? You forgive me for what happened with Janine?” I try to clarify. If I have to beg on my knees, I will.
“We forgive you,” Hayden tells me.
He surges forward, scooping me up into his arms. It seems like he’s trying to absorb me into his body, pulling me taut against his pecs. He kisses me hard on the cheek, and then cups my face and brings my lips us to meet his.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I pull back, kissing his hands as I hold his gaze.
“Please don’t be. I’m the one that’s been all over the place. It is okay to be confused, but not to hurt the ones I love. I need to commit. I want to commit,” I pro
mise.
Hudson crowds the space, pushing Hayden gently as he reaches for me in turn. He pulls me against him gently. Instead of a fevered embrace, he cherishes the lapse in time and just holds me. We sway momentarily, and his lips press tender kisses against my head.
“I don’t have feelings for Janine. Not the way I feel about you,” I say against his shoulder.
He squeezes my back, chuckling into my ear. “I know that now. It’s not easy to know what your heart wants. It’s been tough, but you’ve been nothing but honest. Thank you.”
He pulls back enough to let Hayden back in and Hayden pulls both of us into a hug. They kiss me all over, my neck, my face, and fight for my lips as we melt into each other.
“I’m not Danny,” I whisper.
Both of them suck in the air around us, and burrow their heads against my body. They clutch at my sides and it makes me feel more wanted than ever before.
“I know that now too,” Hudson sighs. “Danny wasn’t just confused. He lied to us, saying he loved us. He loved the idea of commitment, but when push came to shove he left.”
“You won’t hurt us like he did,” Hayden praises, kissing my cheek just below my eye.
I pull back. Screw it. If I’m going to declare my love, then I’m going all out.
I drop to my knees. I crane my neck to gaze up at my two gorgeous boyfriends.
“Hayden and Hudson Jones. I love you more than any other people in the world. I have no doubts. I want this. I want us. Please, will you take me back?” I ask them.
Wordlessly, they drop to their knees alongside me. They throw themselves on top of me like a dogpile. We reunite on the floor, holding and caressing each other like we can send love through our fingertips.