by David Horne
“Lost and Found”
An M/M Gay Romance
David Horne
© 2018
David Horne
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is intended for Adults (ages 18+) only. The contents may be offensive to some readers. It may contain graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations. May contain scenes of unprotected sex. Please do not read this book if you are offended by content as mentioned above or if you are under the age of 18.
Please educate yourself on safe sex practices before making potentially life-changing decisions about sex in real life. If you’re not sure where to start, see here: http://www.jerrycoleauthor.com/safe-sex-resources/ (courtesy of Jerry Cole).
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Products or brand names mentioned are trademarks of their respective holders or companies. The cover uses licensed images and are shown for illustrative purposes only. Any person(s) that may be depicted on the cover are simply models.
Edition v1.00 (2018.04.23)
http://www.DavidHorneauthor.com
Special thanks to the following volunteer readers who helped with proofreading: Elryc Caledon, C. Robinson and those who assisted but wished to be anonymous. Thank you so much for your support.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
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Chapter One
Harrison
Arnie and I were back together again. This time for a whole whopping three months in a row. Arnie was a camera assistant on movies and television shows. He was constantly working. So far in our entire relationship, I’d been up at Berkeley in school while he was based in Los Angeles. We were doing the whole long-distance thing while I finished college.
We met on the set of A Horror House 2 when I was a production assistant in the summer before I started Berkeley. Since then, Arnie had floated in and out of my life. He was a couple years older than I was and had skipped college entirely, going directly into his career. I figured that was how adult relationships worked. Sometimes you were together. Most times, you really weren’t.
Needless to say, our relationship wasn’t completely fulfilling since we hardly saw each other on a regular basis. Since I had gotten a job at Bingo Bango Entertainment as an animator down in LA, it was as good a time as any to try our relationship out for the first time in person and not just through visits, phone calls, and emails.
Arnie had taken a six-month hiatus from our relationship while he was on location for a film in New Zealand. I knew how the saying went, “What happens on location, stays on location.” I tried not to think about it too much.
Arnie was stunning with blond hair that he wore down and loose around his shoulders and baby blue eyes always full of electric energy. Arnie was the life of the party making it easy for anyone to feel comfortable around him.
We were starting anew. The best I could do was give it a chance. Four years, even if it was on and off again, was still something to try to save, right?
I was on my way to pick up Salvador Lerman, who also graduated in my class at Berkeley. Although we attended the same school, after Arnie introduced me to him at a campus party, I never ran into Sal again. To be completely honest with you, I might have run into him again, but I had been so hammered at that party, I only vaguely remembered what Sal looked like.
When Sal via Arnie asked me for a ride down to LA after graduation, I said I didn’t mind. The Sal I distinctly remembered Arnie introducing me to was short, stocky, and prematurely balding with a probably unintended permanent scowl on his face.
I pulled up to the address Arnie had given me, scouring the sidewalk for someone fitting the mental description I had of Sal. All I saw was a tall full head of brown hair standing outside. This guy smiled when he saw me and waved. He walked up to the passenger door and got inside.
This was Salvador Lerman?
How drunk was I that night I supposedly met him?
The Salvador Lerman that got into my car was not short and stocky. In fact, this Salvador Lerman was drop dead gorgeous with a caramel complexion and big beautiful brown eyes. He was a tall drink of water.
He reached his hand out. “Thanks so much for this, Harrison.”
Shakily, I took his hand. “No problem.”
Suddenly, I was slightly embarrassed at my choice in driving gear: ratty sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a backwards baseball cap, but who was I kidding: that was how I normally dressed. I might have chosen sweatpants with fewer holes in them if I had known who the real Salvador Lerman was.
Sal, on the other hand, breezed into my car with a debonair air of sophistication. He had on trousers and a crisp light blue shirt. He looked effortless and suave.
“I sold my car up here, and my new car won’t be ready until next week in LA.” He shut the car door.
“Flights from SFO to LAX are pretty cheap and less time.” I regretted saying that as soon as I said it.
Did it sound rude, like I was suggesting he shouldn’t ride down with me?
Sal tilted his head side to side. “Right, but I didn’t feel like taking a flight this time.” He turned to me in the car and shone a megawatt movie star smile. “Besides, road trips can be fun!” I couldn’t believe that the Sal Lerman I expected was a hobbit, but this guy was clearly Aragorn.
His smile shot a dart of excitement into my chest. I hated myself for falling under this guy’s spell. I had Arnie!
Sometimes sweet and mostly unpredictable Arnie.
I turned my baseball cap around and pulled out onto the street. “What kind of car are you getting?”
He shot me another smile. “A Tesla! I’m really excited.”
I felt slightly ridiculous in my beat-up Honda Accord, but it intrigued me that Sal, just out of Berkeley like me, was already making adult purchases.
How was he able to swing that? A car? A new car?
I had to find out more about him. “Remind me again of how you know Arnie?”
“Arnie? Oh. Arnie is great.” He looked out the window smiling. “He was the 1st AC, Assistant Camera, on my film.”
“Your film?” I asked, confused.
Sal shook his head, “Actually. Not my film. My screenplay. I wrote the screenplay.”
Jealously rankled inside me, despite my obvious attraction to Sal. “What film was it?”
Sal waved me off. “Just a little indie film. You probably haven’t heard of it.”
I challenged him as I stopped at a red light. “Oh?”
“Magical Mountains?” he said with a tilt in his voice as if asking me a question.
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Wow. Magical Mountains had been up for an Academy Award. I feigned indifference. “I’m not sure I’ve heard of that one.”
Sal continued to smile, not at all suspicious that I was lying through my teeth.
This guy was gorgeous and successful. He was further along in his career than I was, even though we just graduated from the same school a week ago. A week ago!
Was it possible to be jealous and attracted to someone at the same time?
I drilled this thought down deep inside me, because I shouldn’t have been jealous or attracted to him at all. Jealousy was petty, and my attraction should be limited to Arnie and only Arnie.
Even though Arnie was admittedly a terrible boyfriend. Even though Arnie didn’t like labels and won’t actually refer to me as his boyfriend. I hoped all that would change once I moved down to LA. It was hard to throw labels on things when you weren’t living in the same city. How could I blame him?
“What are you moving to LA for?” Sal asked.
“I got a job at Bingo Bango Entertainment,” I said sheepishly. It was definitely not as impressive as Sal’s screenwriting credentials.
He snapped his fingers. “That’s right! You’re an animator, right?” I nodded, rolling my palms on the steering wheel. “I love what Bingo Bango puts out. Uncle Jo Jo and Great Siberian Hero are hilarious shows!”
I eyed him from the side. “You watch that stuff?”
“You kidding? I live for Adult Pool cartoons. South Pines is what got me interested in screenwriting. Satirical animated shows are definitely my jam.” He paused to laugh. “That was my dream, you know? But, whatever, my career took a turn into screenwriting films. What will you be working on?”
“I’m going to be on Jo Jo,” I said, pleasantly surprised at his interest in my animation work.
Arnie had little to no interest in animation. He arbitrarily grouped all animation shows into kid shows. Even when I tried to show him Jo Jo or Great Siberian Hero, the best stuff that’s out there right now, he was woefully uninterested. He watched a few minutes before declaring he wasn’t interested in kid movies.
That drove me nuts! Because kid movies could be just as phenomenal as films for adults. And besides! Jo Jo and Great Siberian Hero were not for kids just because they were animated.
Sal’s eyes grew as big as saucers. “Dude! That’s amazing! It’s incredibly difficult to get on one of Bingo Bango’s shows. Congratulations!”
The funny thing was I had thought it was difficult too, but Arnie dismissed my suspicions. He said I got the job because of my looks, which is ridiculous. I was a decent looking guy, but nothing superb enough to be given a highly sought-after job at a top animation studio.
“Is it?” I asked, evaluating again why Arnie had told me that.
“Yes! You’ve got to know that. They only accept the cream of the crop.” He put a hand over his chest. “Wow. I’m honored to be riding in a car with you. What’s your favorite episode?”
I was not expecting him to get all fan boy on me, but I liked it. This road trip was an entirely different experience than I thought it would be!
“My favorite is “Rock Solid Rock”. You know the one where…”
Sal jumped in, “Where Jo Jo and Randy want to take a trip to the Rocky Mountains, but Jo Jo programs his time warp machine incorrectly because…”
“He’s drunk!” I interjected laughing. “When is he not?”
“Exactly! They end up at Standing Rock Indian Reservation instead coincidentally…”
“Yup! Always coincidentally,” I said shaking my head with laughter.
Sal laughed. “I know right? They ended up there on December 12, 1890, three full days before Sitting Bull was shot by the Indian agency police.”
I merged onto 580 East and said, “They were able to prevent Sitting Bull’s death, which coincidentally…” Sal howled with laughter. I couldn’t help but laugh too.
Sal exclaimed, “Coincidentally preventing the future Dakota Access Pipeline because Sitting Bull lived and was able to organize other tribes to break off from the United States.”
I briefly looked over at Sal, who was beaming. “It was a great episode and another example of how Uncle Jo Jo inadvertently and drunkenly saves the world with his little nephew Walter.”
“It’s hilarious to see a grown man bicker with an eight-year-old over things like: not pouring vodka in cereal.” Sal chuckled.
“Or not hitting on Sitting Bull’s daughter.” I grinned.
I loved that show. I was proud I’d gotten a job to work on it. Sal helped me see that it was something that warranted my pride. He helped me realize that my career and life trajectory wasn’t as bad off as I had thought. I just wasn’t giving myself any credit.
Chapter Two
Sal
It was true. I could have taken a flight on United down to LA for eighty bucks. I’d kept in touch with Arnie, and when he mentioned Harrison was moving to LA like I was, I jumped at the chance to ride down with him.
Why?
Mostly because I was a little apprehensive about moving to Los Angeles. I thought a car ride down with someone who was also making the move from Northern to Southern California would be good for me. It would help keep me from thinking I was making a terrible mistake, which I couldn’t stop myself from thinking. I wrote Magical Mountains in Berkeley. In my dorm at Clark Kerr to be exact.
Why did I have to move to LA?
My agent.
Barb hounded me that the move would put me in the mix with others who are working in entertainment. It would supposedly open doors for me. The problem was I wasn’t much of a schmoozer. From the times I’d been to LA, everyone treated schmoozing as a part time job.
Why couldn’t I just sit in my room and write? That’s how I do my best work. Alone. In isolation. I’m pretty much anti-schmoozer. Anti-people, for the most part.
But Barb told me that would only get me so far. She felt that especially this early in my career on the heels of an Oscar nomination, I should move to where all the action was happening: sunny Los Angeles: city of angels, but mostly sinners, in my humble opinion.
I hoped the car ride would inspire me to look forward to my move. It turned out to be so much more than that. Harrison was a lot of fun to hang out with. I was glad that I decided to go on the car trip with him. If I hadn’t, I would have always thought Harrison Barnes was a drunken slob.
Arnie mentioned Harrison to me a few years back, but he rarely spoke about him with any indication of significance. Arnie could be weird like that, keeping all his boy toys in a box that he kept separate from the rest of his life. Honestly, Arnie had a revolving door of guys on his hook up payroll; I couldn’t keep them all straight.
Arnie was in town a couple of semesters ago when he introduced me to Harrison briefly at a frat party, but Harrison was totally smashed.
Arnie sauntered over to me with Harrison’s arm slung over his shoulders. “This is a friend of mine, Harrison.”
I have pondered over the years Arnie’s use of the word “friend.” If he would have said, “This is a friend of ours,” then he would have meant the person in question was really just a friend. That’s how he always introduced me to people.
Whenever he said, “a friend of mine”, Arnie was usually referring to one of his boy toys. This was all just conjecture, of course. I never confirmed with Arnie whether or not my suspicions were right.
Maybe Arnie and Harrison were really “just” friends?
Harrison looked at me with one eye open, slurring his words. “Meet you is nice!”
I had to admit that even sloppily drunk, Harrison was adorable. He was about five nine or so, had wavy dark brown hair that flopped down on his face, covering his eyes. When he pushed his hair out of his face, two perfect hazel eyes gazed up at me.
He put a hand on my shoulder and just smiled into my face. He had such a cute smile. The corner of his right lip went up slightly higher than the left, giving him a mischievous look.
When I walked up to the car, I wasn’t the least bit surprised that Harrison seemed to not know who I was at all. He played it off rather well, I have to admit. His mouth dropped open briefly when I got in the car, probably in shock that a stranger was getting in the passenger seat.
I must say, he collected himself admirably. Sober and talking in complete sentences was a great look for him. He was hot. A lot hotter than I remembered. That night of the party, Harrison struck me as cute. Maybe all happy drunks have that cute adorable, lost-puppy look about them, but Harrison was, in fact, smoking hot.
I loved how casual he looked in sweatpants and a t-shirt. That’s the kind of thing you were supposed to wear on a long drive, not 484 slim-fit chinos and a dress shirt. Harrison probably thought I was trying too hard.
Then he asked me about my new car. I wanted to cringe at myself. Of course, I’m getting a Tesla, right?
I must have sounded like a trendy douchebag:
Look at me: I wear tight fitting chinos as casual chill wear and drive a Tesla. I’m not at all like the dozens of pretentious guys in LA.
But then we started talking about Uncle Jo Jo! Harrison was going to be working on that show. He must be super talented. He seemed like such a cool guy, I wondered again about Arnie and Harrison’s relationship or lack thereof.
Had they just hooked up a few times or was there something more? Did they have some kind of incognito relationship going on?
A month ago, I’d flown down to LA to look for apartments. I met up Arnie at a bar. He had another “friend of his” with him.
Maybe there was a possibility that Arnie and Harrison had a relationship more platonic than romantic. Or if they had a romantic relationship in the past, they were still friends afterwards.
After having the most fun car ride discussions I’ve ever had in my life, the suspense was killing me. Were Arnie and Harrison a thing? I had to know.