Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Gauche.” Lo wrinkled his nose in distaste.
I nodded. “Totally gauche. Seb loved the publicity. Baxter was a hit from the start, and it escalated every year. ‘Let them talk about you. It’s good for business,’ he’d say. But it reached a frenzied state where it became unsafe. We went from ‘anything goes’ to having to manage a specific public image. I’m not great at that.”
“Au contraire. You’re very good at being a movie star. I’ve seen you on billboards and TV and heck—the Internet…you have movie-star energy. Maybe you don’t write the scripts, and maybe you have nothing in common with Baxter in real life, but Baxter wouldn’t be a hit without you.” He picked a pepperoni off, popped it into his mouth, and continued. “You’re special.”
I smiled at the compliment. “No, I’m just a schmuck from Columbus who got lucky.”
“Luck counts too.” Lorenzo eyed me thoughtfully as he twisted, resting his shoe on the rung of my barstool. “You know, Mr. Gowan is from Ohio.”
“Smooth segue,” I drawled.
He lowered his lashes and smirked. “I know. That was terrible, but I’m brimming over with curiosity. I didn’t know Mr. G was married, let alone that his husband was your cousin.”
“Alleged cousin.”
“Hmm. I believe him. I bet that means David was the one who left home for Cali, changed his name, and never looked back. I wonder if he was an engineer like Mr. G, how they met, what their lives were like. And I think it’s so romantic that his instinct was to protect his man’s memory.”
“I can’t blame him. My family sucks. They’re prejudiced assholes, bigots, and homophobes now. I’m sure it was worse seventy years ago. I don’t speak to my father or brother if I can help it, my mom is gone, and the rest of them—” I snorted derisively. “Well, if the people who boycotted your presence during the holidays when you were a teenager showed up years later with a welcoming smile and their hands out…what would you do?”
“Tell them to fuck off.”
“Amen,” I lifted my beer in a mock toast, slugged the last of it down, and stood to grab another. “Should we switch to tequila?”
“No, thanks.” He furrowed his brow. “Why would they boycott you?”
“I was a weird kid—the odd duck of the family. I didn’t like hunting or fishing. I liked video games and drawing, and I loved movies. I loved everything about them. Costume changes, lighting, accents. Picture my dad, a grizzled ornery city worker coming home to a kid dressed in a sheet, quoting Hamlet. He didn’t know what to think of me, and he wasn’t the kind of parent who tried very hard. I was tolerated, not accepted. But the year I auditioned for Rent in my high school play, I became persona non grata.”
“That’s terrible. But yay for Rent. I love that play. It’s fabulous!”
I shrugged. “My parents didn’t see it that way. Truthfully, I don’t know why I auditioned at all. I knew it would lead to trouble. And it did when I got the part of Angel.”
He gasped and covered his mouth. “Angel! Oh, my God. That’s amazing!”
“Yeah, well I didn’t want it, and I regretted auditioning in the first place. It started feeling too risky, too real. But my drama teacher told me to study the role and see if I thought I could do it justice because in her opinion, Angel was the most important cast member.”
Lorenzo clapped. “Hell yes, she is.”
“Agreed. Anyway, I took the part but didn’t tell my folks. I knew they’d freak out, and I didn’t think it was necessary. They didn’t pay attention to my schedule or seem to care what I did in my free time, so what difference did it make?”
“They found out,” he guessed.
“Yeah, my brother’s friend’s little sister ratted on me.” I uncapped the beer I’d just rescued from my fridge. “And when Phil found out, I knew I had to quit. Pronto.”
“What happened?”
“My brother came at me with his fists cocked and split my head open when he knocked me against a wall. Phil’s a big guy, and he’s mean as fuck. One of those people who’s always angry about something and always sure he’s getting screwed out of his fair share. Just like our dad—fucking bullies. I was used to their brand of BS, but that fight with my brother scared me.”
Lorenzo regarded me over the rim of his wineglass. “But you still didn’t quit.”
“No.” I leaned on the island, shaking my head. “My drama teacher talked me out of it. She said actors act. Playing the role of a cross-dressing queen wasn’t going to turn me into one…unless I was very, very lucky.”
He grinned. “I like her.”
“She was the best. I owe her…a lot.” I pursed my lips and continued. “Long story short, I didn’t quit, and my already crappy home life got worse and completely deteriorated before my senior year.”