Cody thought about it for a moment. It was a valid point, however fantastical it seemed to him that he could ever be a part of something that was considered to be art. "Fine," he said, sighing. "I'll give it another read. See what happens."
"Good. Trust me, I have faith in you."
Cody leaned his head in close to Arun's. "Thank you."
"It sure is beautiful here," said Arun. He put his arms round Cody. "I don't think I've ever seen a sun quite this colour."
Looking at it, the two of them falling silent, Cody was inclined to agree. The sun was a deep yellow, beginning it's transition into a sombre orange and sucking the light out from the sky. He stared at it for a minute, a thought spreading through him that made him smile.
"I wonder at what point, during the sunset, you're going to say Holy shit?" He tilted his head up and rolled his eyes back to get a look at Arun's face. He saw that Arun was glaring back at him, from the lower corners of his eyes, his mouth tight and pursed.
"I shan't be saying it at all," he said after a moment.
Cody emitted a short, sharp laugh. "It's your favourite phrase, of course you'll be saying it."
"It is not my favourite phrase."
"I've lost count of the number of times you've said it. You know, you really ought to vary things up a little. Holy fuck perhaps. Or how about fuck me? Or even just a plain old simple fuck."
Arun pulled away from Cody, turned to look at him head on and studied him with a teasing glimmer in his eyes.
"You do like to swear, don't you."
"Ah, you're turning this around to me now are you?"
"It's a fact though, yes?"
"True. It's not deliberate though. It just kind of happens."
"I don't believe that for a moment, but okay. Actually, it's what I remember most about our first meeting. The swearing."
"That's what you remember most?"
Arun laughed. "Okay, no, obviously not. But now I'm thinking about it, you did swear a lot during that first time."
"You want to know the truth?"
"Go on, hit me."
"I swear when I'm nervous."
"Aww, do I make you nervous?" said Arun, prodding at Cody's arm.
"Not now, no. You did at first though. I'd been crushing on you quite a bit leading up to that night and then when I saw that you were even more handsome in real life, well..."
"In real life? Did you Google me beforehand?"
"Might have," said Cody, looking sheepish. "Anyway, it's more general than that. It's when I'm nervous about anything." He sunk his head into his hands and spoke through his fingers, his voice muffled. "Oh my god, I can't believe I'm even thinking about telling you this."
"What?" said Arun, sitting upright, excitedly intrigued.
"One of the most embarrassing moments of my entire life," Cody said, his face still covered.
"Oh, you've got to tell me this now. How does swearing become one of the most embarrassing moments of your life?"
Cody lifted his head up and looked at Arun. "Because I swore at Prince Charles."
Arun stared at him, his eyes wide, as his mouth broke apart into an amazed grin. "You swore at the future King of England?"
"I know," said Cody, despairingly, looking down at the ground, his forehead scrunched.
He took a deep breath and launched himself off the bench, walking over to the edge of the roof to gather himself. He turned around and stood facing Arun, who was looking at him in giddy anticipation.
"Right, so," he said, rolling his eyes. He really was going to relive that moment. There'd been plenty of times when it had crossed his mind, this funny little story that he could tell people, but he'd never met anyone with whom he felt comfortable enough to do so. Yet with Arun, he felt so comfortable that, despite his play-acting and protestations about repeating the story, he didn't actually have any qualms about it at all.
"This was after the royal premiere of the second Blake Lancaster. We're all stood in the lobby of the cinema, which they'd done up to make look especially posh. There's a line of us, starting with a load of the behind-the-scenes people, leading up to some of the cast, with Hailey Maddocks to my left, ahead of me in the line, and the director on my other side. I'm stood there, giving it my best posture, hands behind my back." He demonstrated the pose, looking a little stiff and awkward. "Prince Charles comes out of the door, nice suit, dark grey, royal-blue tie. He starts making his way down the line, hand shakes, nods, a quick word or two. I'm stood there looking down the line," he craned his neck forward and looked to his left. Arun smiled. "I'm thinking, this won't take long. He's probably got better things to do. Just wants to get home and put his feet up. Glass of whiskey, catch up on EastEnders. You know the drill. So, my heart had been pounding a little whilst we waited for him to come along, but now that I'm thinking this, that it'll be over before I know it, I start to calm down a little. I whispered something to the director, can't remember what about but I do remember thinking that I ought to keep my voice down, you know? It felt wrong, somehow, to be talking loud. As though I was back at school and didn't want the teacher to hear.
"Anyway, he's making his way along the line, still pretty quick, and he gets to Hailey and of course, she's always been the chatty sort and so there she is, laughing and joking with him, which he's loving, smiling and talking away with her. He's with her for at least a minute and I swear, it's the longest minute of my life. I'm getting really nervous by this point. I'd convinced myself that it'd be over and done with, quick sharp, but no, she's dragging everything out isn't she. So yeah, my hands are beginning to sweat by now and I'm stood there, grin on my face, because you just know the paparazzi'll spot it if I'm not, trying to discreetly wipe my hands on the back of my pants. No way in hell I'm going to shake Prince Charles's hand if mine's slick with sweat. Imagine the impression that'd create." He cocked his head, angling it slightly forward, his eyebrows raised and a woeful look on his face. "If only I knew. I'd much rather he remembered me as the guy with the sweaty hands. Anyway, the longer he talks to her, the more panicked I become. I'm thinking about my breathing by this point, at the same time as trying to predict what he's going to say to me, so that I'll have the perfect response. I've got it all clear in my head. He'll say, A pleasure to meet you. Congratulations on the film. To which I'll say, Thank you very much and point to the director, telling him that he's the one who deserves the congratulations, therefore cleverly shunting Charles along. Job done, thank you very much.
"No. Charles steps across to me, shakes my hand, which is still annoyingly sweaty, and says, Nice to meet you - close enough - the film was terrific. Now, it's only a subtle deviation from what I'd imagined, but it was enough to completely throw me into a panic. I stare at him blankly for a moment. I'd expected that he'd hate it. Like, it really doesn't seem like his sort of thing and he's only here because he drew the short straw when it came to handing out the royal duties for the year. So my brain tells me that he's joking. He's only saying that because he has to. This thought passes down to my mouth and, as you do when you don't believe someone, the words came out before I could do anything about it.
"Fuck off, really?"
"I swear to God, the room went silent. Charles, bless him, just looks at me, this almost-contained pained grin on his face. His assistant shoots me the filthiest of looks and pushes him along, to speak to the director, leaving me stood there wishing I could die. Like, just shoot me now, I don't even care. I can see Hailey out of the corner of my eye, really struggling to hold back from laughing hysterically and there's this murmuring going on down the rest of the line.
"Charles, for reasons I cannot imagine, makes quick work of everything else and is gone in less than a minute, at which point the director turns and looks at me, the most insanely childish look of amazement on his face, as though he'd just witnessed the best thing ever and says, Dude! You did not just do that! There's nothing I can say to that. I'm just stood there, staring off into space, shaking my head in disbelief whi
lst Hailey is holding her stomach, trying to catch her breath."
Cody stood on the roof, mimicking his reaction, shaking his head in disbelief, though this time it was because he'd actually told that story to someone, despite having promised himself that it was forever to be consigned to the deleted items of his memory folders. Arun, without intending to, had ended up copying Hailey's reaction, holding his stomach which was paining him from having laughed so much.
Cody came over to the bench and dropped himself onto the lower tier, his head level with Arun's chest. Arun leant forward and wrapped his arms around Cody, who sank back into him.
"Well," said Arun. "There goes the knighthood."
"No, on the contrary, I think I'm dead certain to get one now. That way, he can make sure it's him who's doing it and he can accidentally lop my head off."
"I can see why you wouldn't want to tell that story to anyone. Even as you were telling me, I could see how embarrassed it makes you."
"Yeah. I thought it might feel good to say it all out loud. To actually own the story. But no, it's still completely horrific."
"Maybe save it for your autobiography then."
"Nope, not a chance. It's going with me to the grave. Promise me you'll do the same."
"I promise," said Arun. He let his arms dangle over Cody's shoulders, hands laying against Cody's chest. "It'll forever be our secret." He wondered if Cody had made everyone who was there promise to keep it to themselves, but decided not to ask. Better to leave it all be and change the subject. He looked out at the sun as it was making it's final descent for the night, gradually disappearing from view.
His attention on the same thing, Cody said, "It really is beautiful isn't it?"
"Just like you," said Arun.
"You're just saying that to cheer me up."
"No. In fact, I'd say out of the two of you, you win hands down."
Cody said nothing for a moment, thinking carefully about what he wanted to say (and not wishing to ruin things like he had with Prince Charles). He reached up and took hold of Arun's hands.
"I wasn't sure if I was imagining this, but there is more to this than just the two of us having some fun, yes?"
Arun leant down further and kissed the back of Cody's ear.
"You're not imagining it," he whispered.
"I've never felt anything like this before," said Cody. "I didn't know if it was all in my head. Or just all completely one-sided. It's silly, but I've seen so many people my age begin to settle down recently and it always sounded so wonderful. It made me see that I'd quite like it to happen to me too, but then I'd worry that it wouldn't. Or couldn't. But then you came along and it all felt as though it were meant to be, that we met for a reason. Not simply so that we could become business partners but—"
Arun squeezed him tight, the warmth of his embrace cutting him off from his rambling. He kissed him on the top of his head.
"I knew this was something special early on," he said. "When you were off filming. I loved the phone and video chats we'd have."
"You mean you liked the phone and video sex chats we had."
"They were great too," said Arun, laughing, "but no, it genuinely was the chats we had. I looked forward to them. To hearing your voice or seeing your face on the screen, and you telling me all about what you were doing. It was just so nice to stop everything for an hour or two and just talk. Just spend time getting to know each other. It never felt forced or awkward. We simply fell into a relaxed conversation. It was second nature, as though you'd always been a part of my life."
Cody kissed one of Arun's hands. The last of the sun's shimmering orange light fell out of view, coating the sky in a soothing blanket of night.
Despite knowing that he shouldn't, Arun, his voice low, said, "Holy shit."
"Absolutely," said Cody, his voice a contented sigh.
With their feelings for each other clear and in unison, the two of them spent the last week of their holiday doing what every other couple does. They lived the clichéd romantic life. They took walks through the fields that surrounded the villa, hand in hand, savouring every second. They had candle-lit meals, staring into each other's eyes. They lay in the sun together, fingers reaching out for each other as they drifted to sleep in the afternoon heat. Nothing that they did was creative or fresh when it came to romance, but it was all entirely wonderful.
On the plane ride home, Cody—having found a peace and trust with Arun that had previously been unfathomable—said that he would take the lead role in Arun's film.
PART FOUR
Awards
In a room on the top floor of another five-star hotel, Arun stood opposite Cody, in a black tuxedo, white shirt and shiny blue and grey-checked bow tie. He looked at his watch, an impatient expression creasing up his face.
"We have to leave in forty-five minutes," he said.
Cody—who had on black briefs and a white t-shirt—bulged his eyes and dropped his jaw. "Is that all?"
"Yes. That's all."
"I thought we had more time than that."
"We did when I first told you to get dressed, an hour ago. We cannot be late to the Oscars, so come on, hurry up."
Flinging open the wardrobe and holding each door open with his outstretched arms, Cody scrunched his nose up, his eyes surveying the plethora of clothes that hung there. This was a decision that he knew he ought to have made before now, but he'd been putting it off every time the topic came up, only to find that now, there was no time left and a choice still hadn't been made.
He turned to Arun, who had slumped into the nearest chair, legs wide, slouching in despair.
"Which shirt should I wear?"
"Really? How is it that you're only just trying to decide this?"
"It's not something you can just choose on a whim. This night could be ours, so I have to look perfect."
"No, I get that, even though you always look perfect, but you've had a month to plan all this."
"I know," said Cody, "but it's been too nerve-wracking to think about before now."
Upon its release, the film—which they'd titled The Snow's Fire—was met with a rapturous reception. In it, Cody played a man called Raymond Snow, a man who was in a passionless marriage with a woman. He gets himself into a relationship with a mysterious man, who lights the fire within Raymond. Only, that fire soon burns out of control and becomes destructive and deadly.
The critics praised it for how it was refreshing in its depiction of sexuality, and how it blended that with one of the most exciting thrillers they'd seen in a long time. That critical praise led to a string of awards, to the delight of them both. A month ago, the announcement of the year's Oscar nominations shot the two of them up to cloud nine. Arun had pretty much stayed up there ever since, but Cody had leapt back down to Earth, preferring to tuck the thought of Oscar glory to one side. Twelve nominations was a lot of pressure. It was the most of any film that year and between himself and Arun, they'd gotten four of them - Arun was up for Director and Original Screenplay, whilst Cody had been selected for Best Actor, with the two of them sharing the one for Best Picture. It had been a ride more magnificent than they could ever have believed (even though they'd both secretly hoped that it would take them this far) and Cody was not handling it quite as calmly as Arun.
"You're nervous," said Arun. "I understand." He got up and came over to Cody, laying his hands on Cody's shoulders. "You've been on edge the entire time. I just don't know why you're still on edge." He pulled him in for a hug. Cody squeezed Arun tight, angling his head into Arun's neck. He could smell his cologne, a delicate sandalwood that had a familiar and warming fragrance.
"This is a big deal," he said.
"True. But the worst part's over now. The film's been released and it's been a hit at the box office. The reviews have been amazing and the awards have flown our way. It's all good."
Cody extracted himself from the hug and looked at Arun.
"What if we don't get any awards tonight?"
&nb
sp; "Then that's just how it is. Does it really matter anyway? All we wanted to do was make the best film we possibly could together and as far as I'm concerned, mission accomplished. Tonight, we just enjoy ourselves. It's the last chapter of this story."
"I don't want it to end though."
"Sorry babe, it has to. The future's what's important now. Our future."
"Do you not want to win tonight?"
"I'd love to. Academy Award-wining Director Arun Dayal. It sounds pretty darn good. But if doesn't happen tonight, I know it'll happen at some point."
"Cocky," said Cody, managing a grin.
"Maybe it is. That's your fault though you know? You've erased any doubts I might have had about my talents. It's because of you that I've been able to see that this is exactly what I should be doing with my life."
"You never told me you've had doubts."
"Of course I've had doubts. I just didn't want to burden you with them."
"I can handle it."
"I know. But you've been dealing with your own stuff. Anyway, it was mainly before we met. Trying to get this film financed and made, I did question if it was all worth it. You made me see that it was. Regardless of the struggles, if you're passionate about something—if you find something that you want to let take over your life—you should do everything you can to make it happen. You only get one life, right? And it's entirely because of you that I've come to understand that I can live it the way I want to."
Cody turned his attention to the rack of clothes, wiping at his eye. He swallowed.
"Yes," he said, finding his voice, his gaze still fixed firmly straight ahead. "But which shirt should I wear?"
Arun's face softened. He stepped over to Cody and put an arm around his waist. He scanned the row of shirts. If Cody couldn't make the decision, he would have to make it for him. He selected a plain white shirt, with contrasting black buttons and hooked it onto the top of the wardrobe.
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