Until Forever Comes

by Jerry Cole

  When they reached the check-in counter, Roman went up by himself to collect the ticket, and Bryce walked around the back to meet him so they could go through security together. He watched as Roman made his way toward the attendant behind the counter, noting the way Roman slouched and exhaled and looked all-around miserable. Bryce knew what was on Roman’s mind... but he still hoped he was wrong.

  “How’d it go?” Bryce asked when he spotted Roman coming for him a few moments later.

  “Got my ticket.” He flashed his ticket. “Which is really all I expect of these people.”

  Bryce chuckled. He then held his hand out for Roman to take. “Shall we...” he indicated to the security gate; another long line, this one leading to a large plastic-looking doorframe with two guards on either side holding what looked like futuristic wands.

  Roman eyed the outstretched hand. As he did, he came to a steady stop and bit into his lip. “Before that... ah, I think we need to talk.”

  “Oh no.” Bryce dropped his hand. It was time.

  “Can we...?” He nodded to a space some fifty feet away, as far from onlookers or passers-by as possible.

  “Sure.” Bryce knew what was coming. Honestly, he had thought it might have come last night, and then when it didn’t, a part of him hoped that it just wouldn’t come at all. But the way that Roman had been acting all morning was indication enough.

  They wandered to the empty space in silence. For the first time in two weeks, a nervous tension hung between the two men. Anyone who even glanced in their direction would know what was going on. It was that obvious.

  “First thing is... I had a good two weeks,” Roman started.

  “Liar,” Bryce quipped and winked. Roman raised both eyebrows and Bryce smiled. “I know you did... me too.”

  “But —”

  “Before you say anything,” Bryce hurried. He had to get this out. He didn’t know if it would change anything, but he had to. “I loved having you down for the past two weeks. Really... I loved it.”

  “I had a good time.” It sounded genuine, and it was followed by a smile that had to be also. “But that’s not what —”

  “And I’m sorry about me having to work too. That wasn’t... my boss was testing me. But he wouldn’t do it again. There’d be no point.”

  “That’s not what —”

  “Next time it’ll be different.” Bryce powered through Roman. “Next time I’ll be the boss and I can take all the days off I want.” He stepped forward, looked for Roman’s hand to take... but it wasn’t there. “I promise...”

  “And until next time? What?” Romans tone was soft, even regretful. He looked down at Bryce’s shoes, unable to make eye-contact.

  “What do you... I don’t understand.”

  Roman sighed. “I had a great time – let me finish,” he hurried when he saw Bryce open his mouth to interrupt again. “You know I did. That’s not what this... You’re not ready for a relationship.”

  “That’s not true!” Even Bryce didn’t believe the words.

  “Or anything even resembling one,” Roman continued. “And that’s Okay.”

  “What do you mean I’m not – what have we been doing the last two weeks?” Bryce asked with exasperation. He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to argue, because he actually agreed with Roman. “And even before that? Those six months of phone calls every day, what were they?”

  “They were the problem.”

  “What—”

  Roman took both of Bryce’s hands in his, looked up and met his stare. “Right now, Bryce, your life revolves around work -- and that’s fine. Those calls we had, all those nights, they worked for you because you could fit them around your schedule. But do you know how hard I had to work to fit them into mine?”

  Bryce opened his mouth to argue... but then closed it. Again, Roman was right. Although that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

  “So long as it’s easy for you, you’re willing. And that’s not a bad thing. I don’t doubt how much you care for me. But... relationships aren’t easy. Look at the last two weeks! They were drama free only because I made sure of it. Do you know how many times I wanted to scream and shout at you? Do you?”

  “No...”

  “A lot,” Roman chuckled. “A fucking lot. But I didn’t because it wouldn’t have been fair. But... I need more than a phone call every night. I need more than the odd trip to see you. I need... I need more.” Roman exhaled and shrugged. “I just need more.”

  And that was that. Bryce could have argued. He could have begged. He could have tried to make Roman see reason. After all, when they were together, the two were fire. It was just a fucking shame that it was so rare.

  Roman was right in everything. Bryce had known it last night when he went to bed and had known it this morning when he had woken up. At best, he had hoped that maybe Roman had enjoyed himself so much that he’d want to keep the phone calls happening, to at the very least maintain contact. But he also knew that was unlikely. For Bryce, this was as close to a relationship as he had ever been. For Roman, it was keeping him from having a real one.

  “So, what now?” Bryce did his best to not sound angry or upset, and that’s because he wasn’t. He knew Roman wasn’t doing this to spite him or anything like that. So how could he be mad?

  Roman smiled out the corner of his mouth. “I think... I think we say our goodbyes.”

  “And the late-night calls?” Bryce tried hopefully.

  “Maybe give them a miss for a week or two? See how you go.”

  “I suppose I could use the earlier nights,” Bryce joked.

  “Before you know it, you’ll forget all about me.”

  “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

  “Fuck you.” Roman slapped at Bryce who playfully dodged. “But really... I had a really great time.”

  “Me too.” Bryce held his arms wide for Roman, who stepped into them without hesitation. “Maybe in another life?”

  Roman’s head rested on Bryce’s shoulder; it felt too warm and comforting for Bryce’s liking. “Keep an eye out for me in crowded spaces.”

  “Always.” Roman pulled himself free, and Bryce... well, he let him.

  And that was it. Roman offered Bryce a final nod, a wave and then he turned and made his way slowly toward the security check-in. Bryce stayed where he was, watching until Roman was completely gone; he watched him without blinking, wanting to drink up every last bit of him before he was out of his life forever.

  And when Roman was gone, and when Bryce was all alone, he didn’t cry or break down or descend into misery. Instead, he smiled to himself. It was a bad day, but that had been expected. And it had come off such a good two weeks, probably the best Bryce had ever had, that he couldn’t even wallow in it. At least he would always have those two weeks to hold on to.

  Bryce entered the airport in a funk. When he exited it some thirty minutes later there was an actual smile still spread across his face. Things were... well, they were going to get better. How could they not?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Roman wasn’t feeling so good. And it wasn’t a cold that was doing it to him, or an upset stomach, or any readily curable ailment that he could point to and swallow a pill for. No, Roman wasn’t feeling so good for a very particular reason, and despite how hard he tried, he knew it wasn’t going away any time soon.

  “You’re going to do fine, mate.” James was adamant in the way he spoke. So cool was he, that he was barely even paying attention. His head was buried in a stack of papers and he didn’t so much as glance up at Roman.

  “I’d feel a lot more confident in that if you bothered to look at me when speaking.” Roman sat across from James. He too had a stack of papers in front of him, but he didn’t bother with them. He was far too busy hyperventilating.

  “Or you could take my lack of physical acknowledgment as a sign that I am so confident in everything ‘you’ right now, that I don’t even have to look at ya. That’s how fine things are
going to be.” James didn’t look fine. His face was scrunched into a tight knot, his tongue was sticking up out the side of his mouth, and he hadn’t so much as glanced at his coffee yet, despite the fact it had been sitting in front of him for five whole minutes.

  “Well said.”

  “And here I was, thinking that you were the writer – now will you quit your worrying and take a look at all this shit.” He indicated to the piles of papers between him and Roman. “As much as it saddens me to admit, you’re the smart one out of the two of us.”

  “Fuck, that is depressing.” Roman sighed and shuffled some papers closer to him so he could have a read.

  “You’re telling me mate. You’re telling me.”

  Roman and James were sitting in a small café called White Tarrow, located one block down from their office. They’d been at the office all morning working, but after hours of paper pushing, paper scrunching, cursing, and throwing things at the wall, they both decided that they needed to get out. The café seemed the most logical idea, but only if they brought the work along with them.

  “We’re in the thick of it now, mate,” James had pointed out. “And you’re the one that’s meant to be keeping me in line. Not the other way around – where's your head at?” he finished.

  Roman’s head was in two places right now, which James knew, of course. But in James’ defense, he was so preoccupied and stressed out at the moment that it was miracle he’d even remembered to put his pants on this morning.

  The first place that Roman’s head was at, was the same as where James’ was: their new movie. The two of them were currently in the preproduction phase of their latest film, and things weren’t going well... to put it nicely. To put it not so nicely, one would say that it was falling apart faster than a wet piece of toilet paper.

  It was funding that was the problem, and the lack of it. Finding the money to actually make a film was always the hardest part of film making. Like James always said, if it was easy, then everyone would do it. And although Roman agreed, sometimes he wished it were just a little easier.

  The situation was made all the more frustrating because this film was supposed to be their easiest one yet to get made. Their first film, Death Drive, had been made on the cheap, was released to decent reviews and provided the perfect steppingstone into the industry. Their second film, Terror-Cation, cost a little more, was a slightly more expansive production, but was granted a wider release and helped to really propel the two into the forefront of the industry.

  Now they were on their third film, and this was going to be the one that really made them. Finally, they had the name recognition. Finally, they had the skill set. All they needed now was the money. And where they had managed to secure a large chunk of it through contacts, studios and other sponsorship deals, they were still well over one million dollars short. And that simply would not do.

  And so, it had come to this: Roman and James now spent every waking hour trying to come up with a way to secure this final one million dollars. They’d been at it for a week now and had managed to whittle away at a very small chunk. But they were still some way off... and by ‘some way,’ it was more akin to an ocean crossing with a canoe. Without the rest of the money, the film was as good as dead.

  “Clothing vendors.” James had his pen out and was scribbling furiously. “What if we give them another try – now hear me out,” he hurried before Roman could interrupt. “I know we can probably only get... maybe fifty-grand off them altogether. But if they agree —”

  “It won’t work.”

  “Will you listen!” He paused, waiting for Roman to interrupt. When Roman didn’t, “If they come along, I bet you anything we can try the watch brands again. I know Nixon will spring in for at least one hundred if they find out Adidas or who-the-fuck-ever is already.”

  Roman leveled James with a deadpan expression. James blinked back excitedly, panting like a puppy that had just discovered an old bone it had long since lost in the backyard. “We’ve been over this.”

  “No, we haven’t!” James protested.

  “Yes, we have – no clothing brand is going to want to be featured in a movie where people are being brutally stabbed to death – seeing a knife plunge through a Nike logo isn’t good advertising.”

  “Why not?!”

  “Because the last thing anyone wants is to see their favorite brand drowning in a sea of blood. Fuck, it’ll probably drive people away from the brand. Not to it. It’s not an option.” Roman raised a challenging eyebrow at James, and James bowed his head.

  “Fiiiiiine,” he groaned. He took his first sip of coffee and then went back to the stack of papers. “Onto the next brilliant idea.”

  The process of trying to find funds was exhausting. It literally entailed canvassing every single realtor that they could think of – regardless of what they sold -- and asking for money. In exchange for some of this money, they would feature the realtor’s product in their film. This was the first time that Roman and James were making a movie which was big enough to do such a thing too, and where it had worked in the initial stages of funding, the well had officially run dry.

  That was problem number one, and if that were all Roman had to worry about right now, even that would be enough to cause headaches. But as it currently stood right now, this funding crisis was playing second fiddle to another, much larger problem: being back in Sydney.

  A small wave of anxiety flooded over Roman and he glanced out the window, noted the city skyline, and then felt his anxiety increase. Why was he back here? What was he doing? Well, he knew the answer, but that didn’t make it any easier. When he was twenty, he had left Sydney and swore that he’d never be back. Now, at thirty-two, he was back living in the city he hated more than anything. Worse too, he was stuck here.

  Sydney was where the action was in the Australian film industry. After their second film had come out two years ago, he and James had had many long discussions about what to do next. L.A. was discussed of course, but quickly dismissed as a pipe dream at the moment. The only logical thing for them to do next, and they both hated to admit it, was to move back to Sydney. And so, they did.

  That was two years ago now and where Roman should have been used to it, he wasn’t and never would be. Worse too was that today of all days, the reason he was so fucking anxious and nervous and fidgety and generally a pain to be around, was because he was finally going to visit his older brother.

  “It’s time.” Roman slapped at the table as he went to stand.

  “Good luck,” James offered without looking. “And if you stumble across a bag of money on the way, that’d be fucking great too.”

  Roman’s brother, Nero, lived in the exact same apartment that he had when Roman had moved out over ten years ago. And as Roman approached it, he wasn’t at all surprised to see that it hadn’t changed one single bit; it was a massive concrete skyscraper, devoid of any decoration or flair or anything making it even remotely appealing to the eye. Even the bums milling around the entrance looked the same as the ones that were there the day Roman left... and as he got a little closer, he saw that’s because they were.

  “Kai?” Roman couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Is that you?”

  There were three men sitting on a wooden bench by the entrance to the apartment block. They wore old, dirty clothes that looked about a decade past their usability, their hair was long and matted, their faces brown with dirt, and their teeth yellow and falling out. The one that was closest to Roman, half-standing and half-sitting was a face that Roman would never forget.

  “Who’s asking?” Kai spat and stood straight up. He sneered as Roman approached, revealing half his teeth to be missing. But he also had a hunch in his back, and his skin hung off his bones to such a degree than any attempt to be menacing just came across as sad.

  “It is you.” Roman couldn’t help but smile; and not because he was happy that his childhood bully was now living in squalor. It was just nice to see a face from the past.


  “And who’s you?” Kai spat again. He looked to the other two men on the bench, as if for support. But they were both in their own world and wanted nothing to do with this interaction.

  “Roman Nowak.” Roman was careful not to get too close. Even though Kai was significantly weaker looking than he had been as a teen, he was still taller than Roman. Plus, there was that long-standing intimidation factor that he’d carry with him until the day he died. “You know, from high school – Ultimo.”

  “Fag?” Kai blinked his eyes like he couldn’t believe it and looked Roman up and down. “That you?”

  Roman actually laughed. “That’s me. But I go by Roman now.”

  “Pffffttt — check it out.” Kai turned to his two mates, both of whom Roman now saw to be too drunk to fully comprehend what was being said. “This little squirt here used to hate me. Didn’t ya? Feared me, more like it.”

  “I did,” Roman smiled. “Still do, honestly.”

  “Ha!” Kai took delight in this as he continued to explain the situation to his friends. “I was king back then – couldn't walk down the school halls without people coming up to me, wanting to be my friend. Even this fag was desperate for it. Weren’t ya?!”

  Roman played along the best he could. “Something like that.”

  “I had to beat his ass a few times too though, let him know I was out of his league. Right, fag?”

  Roman exhaled and took a step back. A part of him worried that Kai was going to throw his arm around him in some sort of nostalgic embrace. “Exactly, right.”

  “What are you doing here now? Come to see your boyfriend?” Kai burst into laughter, which soon turned to a fit of coughing.