Fade In : A Tales of Bryant Novella #1 (Tales of Bryant Novellas)

by V. L. Locey

  I made a beeline to Caiden’s place. Luis let me in, his usual sunny disposition dampened. Cool air blew over me, making my overheated skin tingle pleasantly.

  “Hello,” he said then padded off. I hurried to catch up with him.

  “Look, about the oatmeal…”

  “No, no, I understand. I no never make oatmeal again.”

  “Honestly, it wasn’t the oatmeal. I love oatmeal!” He stopped walking to give me a look of disbelief. “I swear I do. My mom made it all the time. I just…I was upset.” He folded his arms over his thin chest then popped a hip out. “See, it had been a really crazy night, I was tired and Caiden and I, we’d…well, we’d kind of had this mind blowing sex.” I used my hands to show him just how blown my mind had been. “Poof,” I said as my fingers blew open and away from my temples. “After that I had this feeling…” I paused to choose the right word.

  “Ah, so you fall in loves and then run away because big feeling scares you.”

  I gaped for a second. “Uhm, yeah, sort of. But he doesn’t know, and we also sort of forgot to use a condom.” His brown eyes flared. “I know, stupid of us, but I freaked out over that and the other thing and I never ate breakfast or lunch or dinner. Please, I’m super sorry I offended you. I promise that if you make oatmeal for the rest of my short time here I’ll eat it right up.”

  “Oh, silly face boy.” He sighed then patted my cheek. “I remember being so baby age.”

  “How old are you?” He didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

  “Twenty-three, but I have seen much life. You too. We are two pretty sad boys, but I am smarter than you because of many reasons. And so being smarter, I tell you that hiding big feelings is bad. You must tell him how you feel!”

  “No, this is just a thing, a fling.”

  “Says who?” He flung his arms about. “I no hearing no one say this but you.” He poked my chest. Hard. “Caiden makes big loves. See, his big heart is open wide for romance!” I smiled weakly at him but shook my head. He did love his employer; that was obvious. “Well then you no be smart in my head no more. In my head, you are pretty dumb boy. Go shower, you stink. I find clothes for you so you look like pretty nice dressed dumb boy.”

  He stalked off, his bare feet slapping angrily on the floor. I exhaled sadly then shuffled to the shower. When I emerged ten minutes later, my dirty clothes were gone, and in their place was an outfit that made my eyes burn. The colors were brilliant. So not what a guy from Topeka would ever wear on the street. Unless he wanted to be pulled into an alley and beaten up for being a fag. But, I pulled them on without question as I’d already hurt Luis once and didn’t want to do so again. Also, I had no other clothes. Returning to my ugly room that I called an apartment to impress people was going to suck. Wearing ragged clothes and eating ramen again was going to suck. Rolling over in my single bed to face a water-stained wall instead of Caiden was going to suck so hard.

  “You looks good,” Luis informed me when I snuck into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. I grinned even though I didn’t feel good. I felt flamboyant in the red shorts, yellow shirt, and orange kimono pullover. “Your toes are a sore mess.”

  “Yeah, I’m not much of a manicure guy.” He lobbed a chunk of lemon at me. It sailed past my head to hit the fridge.

  “Everyone should get toes buffed and painted. See mine?” He shook a tiny tan foot at me. Yes, his toenails were nicely trimmed and bright yellow. “Pretty for foot kissing. You go sit. I make tea then do nails. No!” He poked the knife he was slicing lemons with. “You go out in sandals to big wrap party with bad toes, people say Caiden is bad sugar daddy to his new boy.”

  “Is that what people are saying about me?” My stomach bottomed out. “That I’m some kind of gold-digger slut boy?” Shit, what was it that Brian called them? Club boys. Young twinky guys who flattered and fawned over older, more mature gay men so that they’d set them up and spend money on them like straight men did a mistress. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Well, not so many of them,” he quickly replied, but the truth was in those deep brown eyes. Oh God, that was what people thought. “No, no, not so many. Only maybe one or two movie people whisper things to me when I take snacks to set. Stupid people too! Ugly. Dog faces with yellow asses like wild monkeys!”

  “Fuck,” I grabbed a glass of iced tea, minus any lemon, and hauled myself to the patio to sulk. Several minutes of solitude passed before Luis appeared, glass of tea in one hand, a tray filled with manicure things, I assumed, and nail polish in the other.

  “You feel bad now. I am sorry,” he whispered as he sat down beside me. The sun lit up his skin, making it glow like copper. He was really handsome, quirky yes, and a flashier dresser than I could ever think to be, but he was attractive and earnest. “Look, the things that people say, who cares?”

  “I care. Those people will be in my chosen field.”

  “So what? Titters and gossip is everywhere. All over the place people whisper about other people, no matters where you go in the city.” He gestured to New York with a slim arm thick with silver bangles and rings. “It’s not matter what they say about you. What matter is what you say about you, yes? If you make big great movies like Caiden says you will, then your success is smack in the face for yellow-ass monkey people!”

  “He said that to you, that he thinks I’ll make great movies?”

  “Oh yes, all the time. In one ear, out the other, flows like water. Here, put your foot on my leg.” He patted his thigh. With some reservations I lifted my foot then placed my heel on his firm thigh. “Oh my, these nails were cut with a tree saw! Why you hack at toes so bad? You have much to learn for being fancy gay boy like me. Now, learn how to do good pedicure at home. Save money, look sexy!” He gave my head a long look. “Maybe we do hair too.”

  Oh brother…

  Chapter Six

  The first words that Wally had uttered when I’d shown up at work that night were still ringing in my ears five hours later.

  “Holy shit, kid,” he had said to which I had nodded dully then slipped off to set up lights and hide in the shadows like a vampire. A brilliantly plumed vampire with hair that was swept up into a pompadour and buzzed down to the wood on the sides. I felt like I’d been sucked up into a Kansas twister that had picked up a flashy boutique and a new age hair/nail salon then whipped everything all up before spitting me out on the streets of Manhattan to deal with the comments.

  After the final scene was completed, Caiden came looking for me. I tried to not act like a club boy in any way. I’d always been super careful about PDA’s on the set for that very reason, but I guess walking home hand-in-hand had set the tongues wagging.

  “You look quite splashy,” Caiden said, strolling up to where I’d taken refuge from the knowing looks of the workers at Budgie in the Dell. I sat staring at the fountain in Bryant Park, my soft and painted toes resting in the water, the silver sandals Luis had insisted I wear resting beside me on the smooth, cool granite. “That’s funny because you’re seated by a fountain that’s splashing and…ugh, never mind. It’s too late to even try to be clever.”

  He sat beside me, his back facing the water spraying up out of the massive copper bowl. His sigh was loud enough to be heard over the fountain.

  “You look nice too. Are we heading to the party now?” I lifted my feet from the water and spun around to air dry my toes on a chair someone had set up near a small table with a built-in backgammon board in the top. He nodded. “I’m kind of dreading this party.”

  “I know you’re not really into the glitzy glamour side of this industry, but it is a vitally important part of our world. Also, this is mostly just the cast and crew.” The same ones who were whispering about me. Great. Couldn’t wait to hang with them for a few hours. Ugh. “We’ll have a few drinks, eat some of the expensive food Polly has ordered in for the event, have a few more drinks, and then go home as the sun comes up and sleep until noon. How does that sound?”

  “Swell.” I forced a smil
e then wiggled my feet into silver sandals.

  “Nice sandals,” he commented as I buckled the strap around my ankle. I gave him a serious side eye that made his lips twist into a teasing smile. “They do wonders for your legs.”

  “Thanks. I still wish I had my sneakers. I think Luis threw them out.”

  We stood. “The old high tops?” I nodded. “Well, they were held together with spit and chewing gum. Must be rotted sneakers are a film student necessity. I recall Isamu dashing around in a pair that were nothing but duct tape and a prayer.”

  “We’re poor waifs. Or were. Guess he’s not poor anymore,” I replied, sliding my arm around his waist as he pulled out his phone to call for the car he’d hired. He didn’t own one, which was pretty common for New Yorkers. I didn’t either but for vastly different reasons I was sure. “I’m already fighting with the student loan office.”

  “You’re more than welcome to stay at my place until you can get back into the dorms,” he offered, slipping his phone back into the pocket of his lightweight summer slacks. “Luis will be traveling with me, so the place will be sitting empty aside from a cleaning company that comes in once a week. Save on rent on your apartment.”

  The thought was tempting. I told him I’d think about it then led us artfully from all talk of money, tuition, rent, or anything other than the success that Death Embraced the Dawn would be. We arrived at The Purple Plume at three a.m. and the small club was packed solid. People fell all over us, well, Caiden mostly, but I got a lot of the residual slobbering. Probably because they wanted to ensure the concubine was treated well.

  I grabbed a flute of rosé champagne from the platter of a passing server. It made my nose ticklish. I burped behind my hand after emptying it, then slowly began knocking them back, one flute of bubbly after another. I curbed the rush of drunkenness with a plate of lobster cakes, fancy deviled eggs, dips, and designer chips. Then I spied a whole table of personal shrimp cocktails and tiny sushi rolls and was on my way to gorge on those treats when someone sidled up beside me.

  “Oh my goodness, have you had any of the shrimp? Are they chilled enough? I swear this serving crew I hired is beyond slow. It’s akin to having sloths doling out drinks and finger sandwiches!” I blinked at Adrian, wondering where he had come from. How had I missed a man that tall in a bright red satin suit with a matching scarlet top hat? Maybe I’d had too much to drink. That had to be it. Champagne blindness had set in. I should probably stop drinking bubbly now before I did something monumentally life altering as I’d done on the last Dom Perignon overindulgence. He leaned down to study me from behind his lorgnette. I blinked and chewed. “So, is it chilled enough or do I have to go back into the kitchen and put a size fourteen alligator boot into several lazy backsides?”

  I glanced down at his feet because…size fourteen. Yeah, huge feet clad in black and red alligator boots. Wow.

  “They’re chilled,” I coughed out. “Is this your party?” I glanced upward and saw his pleased nod. He really was a handsome sort in an old European vampire sort of way. His face was sharp regal angles. He certainly had the look and carriage of a duke or a czar and maybe even the wardrobe as well.

  “Yes, it’s mine. Polly has added my name to her top three party planners, and my phone has been tingling steadily all night! I have several new weddings to set up in Bryant Park as well thanks to Brian Gilles spreading my name around as his wedding planner. I’m literally vibrating with excitement. Touch me.” He held out a hand with long, pale fingers that had softly buffed nails. I placed my hand on top of his and felt the trembles racing through him.

  “I’m happy things are going so well. I’d recommend you if I had any friends who could afford you.”

  He patted my hand resting on his with his gold lorgnette. “Ah puppy, you have the ear of the hottest producer in Manhattan, why must you play so coy? Oops! Speak of the devil. My stars, you don’t let this little poodle out of your sight for long, do you?” Adrian teased Caiden as my lover appeared from behind a large woman in a flowing orange dress. “Please tell me you’re happy with the party?”

  “You did an amazing job,” Caiden said with a smile. Adrian grinned then bent down to buss Caiden on both cheeks. His top hat never moved. I shoved a shrimp into my face and chewed as they talked about some record company executive they both knew who had hired some woman for a party last week that ended badly.

  “I could have told Ricardo to keep a good distance from Monique Bee. Her tastes are positively barnlike. Who the hell imports hay to spread on the floor for a Manhattan cocktail party? Can you imagine? Why, I’m surprised the heifer didn’t set up a milking stand complete with cow!”

  Being from Kansas, I felt the barb of that city dweller elitism sink into my skin but zoned out until Adrian pecked me on the cheek and went off in a blur of crimson and cologne.

  “You look a little pasty.” Caiden pressed a hand to my forehead.

  “I’m just tired and slightly drunk. Also, I think I ate too many lobster puffs.” His hand slid from my brow to my cheek. I closed my eyes and turned my face into his palm. “Any chance we can bail?”

  “I’ve been ready to roll for an hour.” He led my mouth to his for a short kiss. We snuck out the side door without being seen. It was oppressively hot, and his place was twenty blocks away so we hopped into a cab, cuddled up in the back, and napped until we were creeping up 5th Avenue as dawn was coloring the skyline a soft, glowing magenta. We fell into bed ten minutes later after Caiden drew the curtains shut. He spooned up behind me, big spooning me even though he was, in fact, a smaller spoon. But it was all good. I planned to soak up as much of him as I could in the scant few days we had left. Sleep crashed down on me like a runaway train, and we lost most of that day to headaches and bone-deep weariness.

  The rest of the week raced past. Friday arrived with a howling thunderstorm that knocked out power in East Harlem for several hours. I was now back baking fulltime and hating it more and more with each passing day. Then I would feel guilty for hating it because Lou had been so good to me. I’d done all the paperwork to join the cinematographers union yesterday, so when that shoot for Muffin Top Films began in December, I’d be ready to go.

  That small taste of film making had stirred my passion to create movies like nothing had for months. I’d purchased a notebook, a paper one, and some colored pens, and had taken to scribbling down an idea I’d been carrying around inside me for years during work breaks and after my shifts. Caiden was busy with post-production on Death Embraced the Dawn as well as pre-production work for Gardenia’s Float, the film that would take him and the crew out to Arizona for two months. Maybe this sudden need to spend more time in my post-apocalyptic world helped me avoid hearing the death knells for our romance. It was hard to not hear those lonely bells tolling, but I did my best.

  I’d not had much experience with writing a screenplay, but I’d read over enough scripts in my short time as an intern to get the gist of it. Maybe, when I had this done and polished, I’d show it to Wally after I was on his payroll fulltime.

  Lou had booted both Sandy and I out the door early and closed up shop. He was off to Staten Island for a long weekend with his wife’s family. The three days off should thrill me but they didn’t. I’d seen the signs of a long absence being planned in Caiden’s condo. Luis had begun pulling suitcases from the closets and laying various outfits for his employer into them, all crisply folded. I’d pretended I’d not noticed them when I walked past them lying on the bedroom floor.

  I wandered across the street, my notebook in my hand, and sat down on the steps leading into Bryant Park. Funny how this park seemed to call to me. Perhaps it was the grass and trees that reminded me of where I grew up. Maybe it was just because the park was so close to work and home.

  No, not home, not your home anyway. Caiden’s home. Your home is way over in Brooklyn, on Grand Avenue, under the Blossom Bop Korean Restaurant. Make sure you get that straight, loser. The good times are over once the firewo
rks are done.

  Right. Yeah, best to get that drilled into my head now. I stayed in Bryant Park for hours, moving from the steps to a table by the bar, my head down, my focus on the story I was telling. I heard the sounds of the park as white noise, the scratch of my pen louder than that carousel or the intense game of pétanque a group of guys a few feet away were involved in. The buzz of my phone in my back pocket pulled me from my work. I checked the incoming text and felt a flush of happiness seeing it was from Caiden.

  Heading home now. See you soon. C

  My reply was a heart. I gathered up my notebook and pen and hustled home. Luis greeted me with a smile when I walked into the small foyer. The house smelled of garlic and onions, my stomach rumbling in appreciation.

  “You stink like dirty man. Go shower. I have salad and meat lasagna for dinner. Oh, and wine. That sweet red he likes so much from the Finger Lake winery. And a tiny cake for dessert. Go, you make my nose hurt.” He waved a hand at me while holding his nose with two delicate fingers.

  I chuckled as I padded past him, removing my sticky shirt as I went. Once in the bedroom I pretended there were no suitcases lying everywhere as I stripped down. I did notice there was a neat pile of the clothes Caiden had bought for me lying in the wingback chair in the corner. Even my old work clothes had been washed and folded. A small blue suitcase sat beside my clothes, open, with a small bar of milled soap in one corner. Man, Luis thought of everything. My heart ached as I placed my clean work clothes into the suitcase but not the pricey stuff. Luis could wear them if he had them altered. Caiden had done enough for me. I already felt beholden to him in ways I could never repay. I might not have much pride left, but I did have some. I dropped my notebook into the suitcase as well. Unzipping my jeans as I walked, I wiggled out of them and my briefs and dropped them into a hamper separate from Caiden’s, another Luis item that kept the good clothes from the stinky clothes. Made sense. He really did have a knack for keeping things tidy. I’d miss his smile and banter. And his cooking.