Acting Out

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

They’d been walking awhile when Nick realised they were heading to Alex’s place. Alex lived on a quiet stretch of the Thames outside London in a single level building that looked like a cross between a bungalow and a surfer’s shack. That was largely owing to the wooden conservatory on the back leading down to the small dock. Alex didn’t own a boat, but he liked to live by the water. Many people didn’t know how far the Thames stretched. The river ran for over two hundred miles, but many only associated the Thames with the comparatively small segment that runs through London.

Nick skirted the patch of muddy riverbank and eased past a large swan eyeing him with menace. Those things were so graceful in the water yet ungainly and downright scary on land. He failed to see the attraction of living near water and said so, well aware this wasn’t the first time he’d made his feelings known.

“It’s not the water itself,” Alex murmured. “I like the peace and quiet.”

“With kids screaming and boats tearing up and down?”

“It isn’t always like that. It seldom is. Besides, you know this was Moira’s place.”

Yes, sweet Moira who was no longer with them. She had joked that Nick and Alex—who oddly were both starring in different medical dramas at the time—might do a better job and miraculously cure her inoperable brain tumour if she took a role in one of their shows. At least the two of them would make her laugh about her illness, she’d said—and make her laugh about it they did. They went out of their way to make sure Moira went out laughing and suffered as little as possible.

“What will you do with the place when you’re truly rich and famous?” Nick tried to joke.

Alex shot him a glance. “Rich and famous,” he said, as if he’d never contemplated the possibility. Well-respected, Alex enjoyed a quiet admiration initiated by those in the business. More recently, they had both enjoyed the type of celebrity recognition where television producers often called them in for auditions, yet they could still walk down the street without more than one member of the public in maybe five hundred recognising them. That might not be the case for much longer, and if they did this film, the chances were they could kiss anonymity goodbye. Anyone thinking that was what every actor dreamed of would be wrong. Sometimes, creative people just wanted to create. The rest was just part of the job description.

“Things are changing. A ridiculous level of fame suddenly seems possible. I’m curious, that’s all. Do you really intend to keep living here?” He rather hoped Alex would say yes; the house had become as much a part of Alex as his grin or that twinkling gaze.

“I don’t know.” Unusually, Alex sounded meditative. “You have to understand that when Moira died, she left me the perfect place to escape to while I came to terms with her death. It’s not that this was her home. It’s peaceful here, and the house was what I needed. I’m not staying out of any morose need. I’ve stayed because I can see why she loved living here so. The house needs a little work, and I like things like that. The house is comfortable, and that makes it home.”

Only Alex could use a word such as morose in a normal conversation. Nick understood what Alex was saying. Despite what he’d said, there were days when Nick could picture himself living in that same house—not with Alex, of course not, but with Alex’s stuff and comfortable sense of disorder.

Although the day grew increasingly overcast, there were enough spots of brilliance breaking through to make the occasional flash of light sparkle off the water. Alex hid his eyes behind dark glasses. Blinking, Nick looked from Alex’s face to stare back at the river. One needed time to get to know Alex. Nick had known him a long time, and even now, didn’t always understand him. Some parts of his life, Alex kept extremely private. Nothing wrong with that—Nick wanted his privacy, too—but the lack of revelation irked sometimes. He didn’t understand why. He hardly expected to find a pile of bones in Alex’s backyard or for Alex to come out with some shocking revelation. You would just think that, as a friend, he’d reveal something now and then. Alex was still talking about living by the water, but that wasn’t personal enough. Nick only refrained from asking more because he wasn’t in the mood to answer questions in turn. Not that he believed Alex would suddenly come out with a litany of provocative questions, but he might, just to be awkward. “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours,” sort of thing. Alex would get a kick out of that kind of mentality.

“Boats go past and seasonal visitors come and go, but generally, my neighbours are quiet.”

“I wouldn’t have considered you as one for wanting the quiet life.”

“I’m not. You know I’m not. I like to have fun.” Exposing those large white teeth, Alex gave him the full Cheshire cat. His eyes, inscrutable behind the glasses, would probably look as impenetrable without the shades. “But after I’m through having fun, I like somewhere to get away from it all. I don’t like taking work home.”

“Aren’t I work?” Nick enquired as they crossed the bridge that would lead them down to the path and to Alex’s home.

“Last I heard, you were a friend.”

Nick couldn’t be sure whether there was a question in there somewhere. They were still friends. At least, he hoped they were. Surely they weren’t going to fall out because they didn’t want to do the same film. The other day, he’d felt belligerent enough to forget that Alex was indeed a friend—his best friend—and not just another actor, an irritation, or purely an inconvenience. He shouldn’t forget their shared history. They needed to discuss this as friends, not just business partners. He said so.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

They’d reached the front door, and Alex set the key in the lock. Nick wasn’t sure one kick wouldn’t have done the trick. Then again, Alex owned nothing worth stealing. One thing he could not call Alex was materialistic. Once they were inside, Alex made them coffee. They sat in big chairs in the conservatory, staring out at the fast-flowing river.

“Alana already expressed her doubts about the project,” Alex said, returning to the main topic. “We took one look at the manuscript and knew you’d say no.”

“Then why all the pressure?”

“Why bother trying to talk you into it, you mean?”

Nick wouldn’t have quite put the situation that way, but fair enough. He gave a curt nod.

“At my request, she told the studio we were considering the script, and yesterday, they responded with a persuasive argument and a clear offer, one too good to refuse.”

“How good?”

Alex told him—and then had to get up and move across to slap Nick on the back. When Nick got through spluttering and coughing and had cleared his throat enough to gasp in air, he held up a hand. Alex was a big man. He had large hands, and more than one slap on the back was a bit much for anyone to take.

“You’re joking, right?”

“No. And both Alana and I are betting we might be able to list a few reasonable stipulations.”

Alex’s hand now made lazy circles on Nick’s back. Maybe Alex thought that any moment he would have to start slapping again. Finding the circular motion strangely soothing, Nick said nothing, even if the touch felt…odd and he a little ridiculous.

Nick could think of only one stipulation right now. “I don’t suppose they’d consider rewriting any of the script?”

Alex grinned. “I doubt it. Not the way you mean. That’s partly why they’re paying so much. We might get them to consider us having some artistic input.”

He’d like that. Unable to ignore the idea that Alex might be manipulating him, Nick set the thought aside. “So this is all about money? I never thought you’d be a person someone could buy.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, heavy on the sarcasm. “And no.” Alex rose from where he’d been crouching, his gaze flicking to his moving hand before he did so.

Nick at once missed the heat of the big man’s touch—yet another surprise to add to a growing list.

“The money is welcome. It would make us both comfortable. Money could mean that in the future, we really would have a say in everything that we do. Eventually, we could even produce our own work.”

Producing was something they’d discussed. They’d never envisioned acting together; however, setting up a production company was a more welcome prospect. That was why this film appealed so much. This was a story both men would have been interested in if they were in charge. If they were in charge. Hmm…

Nick mused over the idea that he wouldn’t have changed a thing, not with two other actors cast in the roles. He would have loved to produce this thing; he just wasn’t so sure he wanted to star in it. Maybe he’d feel differently if his co-star was someone other than Alex. Unsure of what bothered him more—a gay role or Alex being his love interest—yet painfully aware of how hypocritical that was, he couldn’t argue with Alex’s next statement.

“I love this story. I want to make this film because the finished product will be something I can be proud of—no gay pride pun intended. Everyone will go see this, no matter their sexuality.”

Nick could see the elements in the script to which Alex referred. There were enough twists and turns in the plot, enough suspense and losses to make audiences cry out. Collective gasps would issue throughout darkened cinemas. People would remember this film for the very reasons Alex said. They would remember the movie for other things, as well.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Alex said.

“You do?”

“You think they’ll focus on the s*x. On the manlove and the bromance.” Alex put as much amusement into the words as they deserved as he returned to his seat. “But you’re wrong.”

They’d finally crawled around to the crux of the matter. Nick didn’t want Alex to know how unnerved he was. “I don’t think so,” was all he could manage. He’d have to argue his case as it pertained to the project because if he let his mind wander for a moment, his thoughts would go to places he dared not contemplate. His mind went to the scene where Alex’s character caught up with him in the hall, made his feelings known, leaned in, and kissed…

“It’s not as if this type of affection between two men hasn’t been portrayed before,” Alex went on. “It’s everywhere. Fan fiction exists because of it. Starsky and Hutch. Brody and Doyle. Kirk and Spock. It’s always been there. Always will be.”

“It’s one thing to have an underlying hint of that type of affection.” Nick deliberately stressed the word. “Quite another to put the two men in bed.”

“Not these days.”

Nick squirmed, aware of films and television productions, even those made by the BBC—something that would have shocked his grandparents in their day—that Alex could easily cite to blow his argument out of the water.

“Maybe not.”

“You won’t have to flash much bare flesh.”

“Now you’re bullshitting.” Worse than the nudity was the high percentage of closely shot kissing and the guttural bedroom noises on the soundtrack.

“What’s the matter?” Alex asked, grinning. “Not kept up with the gym visits? Developing love handles?”

“Speak for yourself.”

“No,” Alex said. “I’ll speak for you. Because you and I both know that if the love interest in this film were a girl, you’d be up”—he stressed the word, “—for it in a blink. Admit it, Nick. The problem you have with this film is that you don’t want to get it on with another man.”

Another man—or Alex? Nick shook off the thought. “Can you blame me?” Nick couldn’t believe they were even having this discussion. “What full-blooded male wants to be up for it”—he played Alex at his own game, “—with another man? Are you some raging poofter or something?”

“I find your choice of words rather telling.”

Nick couldn’t blame Alex for that comment. What he’d said wasn’t a true indication of his feelings. Nick had nothing against gay men, and he and Alex had been friends long enough for Alex to know that. His choice of words stemmed from annoyance, from Alex’s refusal to take no for an answer. He’d agreed to discuss the matter because Alex wasn’t one to give in, and now Alex had dropped the temptation of money on top of a truly great script. Damn! Nick didn’t know what to think.

Alex stood up, carrying the empty cup. He looked down at the cup as if surprised to find it in his hand, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with it. Nick wouldn’t have been shocked to see the china shatter, crushed like a can. Or the big man might choose to throw it, although Alex didn’t look angry.

At least, not angry in the way that Nick was feeling annoyed. Alex looked irritated, and that was unusual. It wasn’t as if his friend didn’t get fractious. He just seldom let his annoyance show like this. Nick suddenly hated himself for making Alex feel that way, which only made Nick feel more frustrated. Concentrating on Alex’s movements, he tried not to think that he should make the film if only for Alex’s sake.

Alex set the mug down on a bookshelf and then ran the fingers of both hands back through his hair, which was currently long enough to drape his nape. The only time Alex got his hair trimmed was for a role. When he wasn’t working, he let his hairstyle go wild. He wouldn’t have to change his hair for this film, but Nick would. Oddly enough, except for that one small difference, they both fitted the look of the characters, one man muscular and the other lean. Neither would need to lose weight or put any on. As depressing as Nick found the idea, they were exactly what the studio was looking for in body shape, acting ability, and camaraderie. He was sure there’d be additional training, but both of them had acquired many skills they’d need for the production already. They had a long-standing friendship that came across on screen…as if the universe had guided them to this.

Many moons ago, Alana had sent them both to the same audition, and precisely owing to their obvious companionship, the studio had cast the two friends in the roles of Colin Cameron and Chandler Chance. As crazy as the names were, everyone had taken to the combination of Scottish and English humour, and Alex’s attempt at a light Scottish burr had pleased even the harshest linguistic critic. They played detectives, partners, with one inevitably having to put his life on the line to save the other. Nick starred as the tall, gangly, geeky intellectual, while Alex provided brutish force. The action-packed, clichéd film had unusually large explosions for a small production, the script proving to be hilarious to work with. Media hype had led to a larger than anticipated release in cinemas. The picture gained status. A few had slighted the predictability of the film, but their acting so far hadn’t received one bad review. Nick said so now, again insisting they couldn’t afford to botch their careers by making ‘a poor show,’ not to mention any repercussions playing gay might have on their friendship.

Alex grinned. “You’re breaking my heart already. Man, I can’t live without you.” Those teeth positively flashed. Even in the midst of feeling terrified, Nick wanted to laugh. Alex’s next words sobered him, the laughter bubbling away to silence. “Trust me, playing gay with you won’t be a problem.”

Huh?

“I’m man enough,” Alex continued, “to feel secure in my sexuality.”

The cynicism and implied insult didn’t escape Nick, but for a moment, he was floored. Maybe Alex had intended the earlier back rub to serve another purpose: to show they could touch. “You can be rather childish.”

“And you can be unreasonable.”

“It is not unreasonable of me not to want to kiss another man.”

“Afraid you might like it?”

The question took Nick unawares. He stared at Alex. His lips tingled strangely; his heart had started to pound. He so did not want Alex to kiss him. What he felt was repugnance—had to be. A moment later he recognised the amusement in those twinkling eyes. This was partly why they’d been friends for so many years. They just couldn’t stay mad at each other.

“You wish,” Nick shot back, this time without animosity.

Another moment passed while they stared at each other before both of them laughed.

“How are we going to get past this?” Nick asked when their laughter died down. “You want to do this film. I can see that you do. I can see that not doing it will eat away at you, but I’m just not interested.”

Alex looked at him. “We both know that’s a lie.”