Silver Screens and Broken Dreams (Echoes of Us #2)

5.

“Friendship improves happiness and abates misery, by the doubling of our joy, and diving of our grief,” — Joseph Addison

Austin

“ O kay, I guess there’s nothing else to say.” I pressed the end button on my phone and placed it down on the table next to me, picking up the bottle of now lukewarm beer and taking a big mouthful. I sank down into the cushioned chair and leaned back against the soft pillows. I took a few deep breaths, trying to halt the tide of panic that was welling up within me.

I heard the vibration of my phone several times which I ignored, trying to block out the screaming in my head. I leaned forwards on the edge of the chair and let my head hang between my knees, remembering watching something that had advised doing this when one was feeling overwhelmed.

“Austin, you okay?” I felt the cushion dip as Kyle squeezed into the seat next to me.

I raised my head to look at him, unsure of how to begin. I’d barely begun to process the phone call I'd just received myself without having to explain it coherently to another human. “I don’t know.”

I looked around the large expanse of my back lawn. It had seemed such a good idea to host a party, inviting half of the West Hollywood gay scene. The lawn was littered with half-dressed, and in a few cases, undressed men lounging around the pool. Servers clad only in black thongs, a waist apron and bow tie circled the party, topping up people's cocktails and getting everyone pleasantly drunk.

I stared at a young guy on the other side of the pool. He was barely twenty-one, sipping on what looked like the most elaborate camp cocktail known to man. He was a day player on our show. I'd seen him hovering in the periphery of scenes, reacting to the surrounding shot. There were countless faces like his, all trying to score that next big break in Hollywood. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as a middle-aged producer slinked down into the lounger next to him, lowering his sunglasses and peering like a predator looking for fresh meat.

It all became a bit too much all at once. “I need to go inside. I’m sorry to do this, Kyle, but can you tell everyone to go? I just can’t.” With that, I snatched my phone from the table and marched across the garden. I stomped through the French doors into my kitchen, yelling at everyone to leave my house. Not stopping until I got to my bedroom, I jumped face first onto my bed, pulling a pillow over the top of me, and prayed for silence.

I must have fallen asleep at some point, as some time later, I became aware of a small knock at my bedroom door. I pulled the pillow from the top of my head, my eyes automatically squinting to protect against sunlight, but finding none. Night had fallen. My room was basked in a soft, moonlit glow. I looked, confused, around my room until the soft knocking started again.

“Austin, man, I’m coming in, okay?” The door creaked open, the light from the hallway falling onto the dark hardwood floors of my bedroom. My vision finally focused on Kyle, standing in the doorway, watching me with concern clearly etched on his face. “Your phone hasn’t stopped ringing downstairs, man. What’s going on?”

It all rushed back to me, almost knocking the wind out of me.

“It’s all over, man.” I sighed. I reached for my cell phone. which vibrated silently against my thigh.

“What is?”

“The show. They’ve pulled the plug.” I swiped my phone open, seeing the many missed calls from my agent, the rest of the cast and crew and one from the studio head, who likely wanted to pass on his vague apologies, whilst at the same time green lighting another show to take our spot.

“What?” Kyle’s face fell as he walked into my room, perching at the end of my bed. “How could they? The show’s ratings have been out of this world.”

“No, you’re right, Season Three was a hit.” I thought sadly of the extras, writers and crew that would now be scurrying all over Hollywood, on the phone to their agents, desperately trying to secure a new gig. “But with all the furore around Yiannis and Christina’s affair, the decision has been made to start fresh with a new show that doesn’t have of this baggage.”

“Did it really affect their bottom line?” Kyle leaned back against one of the four bedposts, wringing his hands in front of him.

“The rumblings since the end of the season on social media have not been as positive as in previous years. Also, there has been some speculation as to what the rest of us knew. Yiannis’s wife has done the rounds on chat shows, saying how toxic our show was and how much the show ruined her marriage and life.”

“Fuck man,” Kyle sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I’m so sorry.”

“Well, you didn’t fuck our director.”

He barked out a laugh. “Man, I have some standards – few, but some. I wouldn’t touch him with yours.”

Knowing that lying there in the dark, doom and gloom being my only companions aside from Kyle, would get me nowhere, I pushed to my feet and trudged out of the room. I meandered through the house, the traces of a party all over the lower floor of my home. I pulled my phone out and sent a message to my studio assistant, and prayed that his contract had not been cancelled with immediate effect.

Me: Hey can you arrange for the cleaners to come over? My house looks like a bomb went off.

Justin: Sure thing boss. Feeling okay?

Me: Yeah, of course.

Justin: Sorry about the show.

I guessed that the word had spread like wildfire by now. As I was still under contract from the network, it would just be a matter of time before they landed me some other part in some original programming venture or cut a deal with a director who wanted to tout their new project to the studio execs. Whilst seeming quite altruistic, in fact, the studio knew that since we were still within our contract terms, that we could not push for more cash than our previous roles without bringing in some serious revenue first. And as far as I was aware, there were no major studios knocking down my agent’s door.

What the hell am I gonna do? I felt my breathing start to pick up, erratic and deep as a whirlwind of emotions flooded my chest and mind. There are a million men just like me out there foaming at the bit for every available part; why would they pick me? I’m just a guy from a failed, cancelled TV show. I’m tainted. I'm finished.

“You are not a failure you big lummox. You are amazing and I know because I only love amazing people and I love you, so you must be.” That had been during a particularly bad time in college. Exams had been kicking my ass and I could see my future slowly slipping away from me. I'd been sitting on the stoop outside the house I'd shared with Kyle. Dylan had stayed over the night before, which had been rare since he'd told me that he was certain that if he spent enough time there, the smugness from the Four Horse-douches of the Apocalypse , as he'd called my flatmates, would rub off on him and before he knew it he would be over-gelling his hair, wearing polo shirts and chinos, and talking about his portfolio. I’d woken up early in a panic and had needed to get some fresh air, or whatever counted as fresh air in New York. He'd wrapped his legs around my waist and straddled me right there on the stoop, rested his forehead against mine and somehow made everything better. He'd had a knack for knowing exactly what to say or do to make things, if not better, bearable.

What would he say to me right now? To cheer me up? To realize that my future was my own to decide? He would tell me to look around at everything that I had, at the resources available to me, and to stop whining and realizing that I was a motherfucking star. He would yell at me, then he would kiss me and I would fall in love with him all over again.

Like it had done a million times before, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. There was no point in beating myself up anymore for letting the love of my life slip through my fingers; no, scratch that, for kicking him from the fifty-yard line, out of my life for good. This ache in my chest and the longing buzzing underneath my skin were self-inflicted wounds. They were constant reminders of what I had lost.

I couldn’t contact him. It wasn’t fair of me to just call him up out of the blue and ask him to sweep back in and fix my life. An idea sprung up, fully formed in my head. I can’t contact him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t contact someone else. I reached for my phone and began to dial.

“Oh my god! it’s Austin Ridge!” The slightly maniacal voice screeched down the line.

Chuckling, I rolled my eyes and held the phone a few inches from my ear while the screeching went on. Eventually, I heard a soft laugh coming down the line. I placed the phone back to my ear. “Are you done now?”

“Yeah I think so,” Hailey scoffed. “Oh no, wait, here comes another one. Oh my god, Austin Ridge, the TV Star!”

“Hailey!” I whined.

“Fine, okay, I’m done now.” I could hear her smile down the phone. “How are you baby doll?”

“Well, I’m not a TV star anymore.” I spent the next few minutes regaling her with tales of cheating scandals, demographic studies, and the eventual pulling of the show from the streaming network. The heaviness that had been present in my chest since I'd received the call that had sealed the show’s fate earlier in the day finally began to lessen. Somehow, talking to Hailey felt almost like a proxy for Dylan. In the past, Dylan had always scolded Hailey for making fun of me if I'd gotten a bit too sentimental, or if I'd said something which I'd thought made me sound dumb. Dylan would always make me feel better or stop Hailey from making me feel worse. Eventually, Hailey had begun to soften toward me, and the protectiveness she'd felt for Dylan had begun to extend to me too.

“I’m so sorry Austin,” Hailey cooed. “I really wish I was there. I mean I have a couple of things I need to wrap up, but I could catch the red eye and be there first thing in the morning.”

“No don’t be silly. I mean I really appreciate it, but I‘ll be okay. Kyle is here.” I shrugged, my voice sounding a bit more defeated than I had meant it to.

“Oh, him,” she grumbled.

“You know I said Kyle and not Hannibal Lecter right?” I barked out a laugh.

“I don’t know, at least you would get some culture before Hannibal ate you, the only thing you’re gonna get from Kyle is a sexually transmitted infection.” I pulled the phone away from my ear to stare incredulously at the handset. While Hailey was blunt and honest, it was the first time I’d heard her be openly cruel about someone.

“Wow,” I put simply.

“I might have some unresolved issues with that man. I am very sorry.” The touch of guilt in her voice satisfied me that it was indeed the Hailey I knew and loved on the line, and not some mean girl from the movies.

“It’s all good.” I’d held my tongue for longer than I thought I could so I was slightly proud of myself as I continued, “So…”

“Oh no, Austin.” Hailey moaned.

“I haven’t said anything yet.” I chewed on my lip, hoping not to get shut down before I’d even started.

“I know that tone very well.”

“How is he?” I got to my feet and began to pace the expansive room, fingering things along cabinet shelves as I went. This is the closest I’d come to an interaction with Dylan or with someone who still regularly spoke to Dylan in a while, and I wanted to savor it like freshly-baked bread.

“I don’t know what to tell you Austin. I don’t want to make your day any worse than it already it.” My feet were rooted to the spot.

“Is he with someone else?” My throat began to burn.

“You know you can’t ask me that question. We had a deal that you could both keep me in your lives, but that I wouldn’t be a go-between for the pair of you.” She had a point. Dylan, being Dylan, had not wanted me to lose any of the friendships I’d forged during our time together, so had pretty much made Hailey remain friends with me. “I hate this, but if you are asking me if he has a boyfriend, then the answer is no.”

Regular air seeped back into my lungs, easing the scorch. “That’s good. I mean, it’s not good that he doesn’t have someone. I mean it’s just… well it’s just good.”

“Was it also good when you were seeing that douchebag Jason, or any of the other twinks and twunks of L.A. that I regularly see you out and about with?” Being slapped by the hard hand of truth was not my favourite past time.

“That’s not fair Hailey,” I sighed.

“None of this is fair, Austin,” she groaned. “It’s not fair that you left him in the first place. It’s not fair that I had to pick up the broken pieces of my best friend and then watch as my other friend slowly broke into pieces too when he realized what a huge fucking mistake he had made. It’s not fair that I’m stuck in the middle when all I want is for you guys to get back together, but it’s just not that time.”

“I miss him Hailey.” That was my own truth, laid out bare for all to see.

“I know you do baby doll, and I know how much this sucks.”

My soul yearned for him. My arms itched to reach out and grab someone that was no longer within my grasp. My body missed the feeling of his next to mine. My body hated my brain for the things it had stolen from it.

“I need to speak to him, Hailey.” I could already hear the rejection before she spoke. However, as small part of me held on to the absolute certainty that Dylan and I were made for each other, and that the universe wouldn’t stand in the way of something that was so clearly meant to be. Could it?

“Austin, I love you, okay…” Hailey began. My hope began to fade rapidly. Stupid universe.

“Hailey…”

“Let me finish, okay? Things have been difficult for Dylan. Everything didn’t come as easy to him as it did for you. He really had to struggle but recently everything just seems to be falling into place for him. He is finally starting to be happy. While he isn't dating anyone, I know there is someone he is interested in and I'm not saying that to be mean, but I do think it’s important that you hear it for how it’s intended.”

Dylan's happy .

“I could make him happy,” I whispered.

“You did make him happy Austin…” Silence. “Until you didn’t.”

There wasn’t much more to be said. Did I love Austin enough to stay away and let him be happy? Absolutely. Would it kill me to do so? I think it might. But when you loved someone, you put their needs before your own. Their happiness became your happiness. I needed for him to be happy.

“I understand.”

“Austin, I meant what I said. I really do love you.”

“I love you too Hailey.” My voice was merely a whisper on the line.

“Listen I have to go, but I’m calling you again, this time next week, okay?”

We exchanged pleasantries before hanging up the phone. I looked around at the museum of my life. Awards and pictures that lined cabinets and adorned cupboards around the room. I looked for meaning where there were only masks. Masks for each life that I'd portrayed. Charades of being, that left me feeling empty and alone. I sat amongst the coldness of Hollywood and realized that in the small house in Yonkers, I'd had everything I could ever need. I'd had love.

This place wasn’t for me anymore. I could bear to be away from Dylan if it meant his happiness, but I refused to live this half-life of parties and Hollywood nonsense any longer. I dialled my agency’s number.

After a few short rings, I was connected to the world’s most lackadaisical receptionist. “Hello?” she mumbled down the line.

“Hi, it’s Austin Ridge. I need to speak with someone on the team.” It really didn’t matter who. The days of the dedicated agent were over. Small teams worked in harmonious synchronicity to bleed as much money out of you as they could, like some succubus/incubus hybrid that lived to fatten you up and ride the coin from you.

“Now?” Her tone was very nearly one of interest.

“Well, that would be nice?” I shook my head and hoped that I wasn’t losing brain cells by merely conversing with her.

“Sure thing, Mr. Bridger,” she sighed.

“Ridge.” I bit my tongue.

“Who is?” Her voice took on an edge of annoyance.

“I am.”

“Then who is Mr. Bridger?”

“When you find out, tell him I said hello. But can you please tell the team that AUSTIN RIDGE is on the phone?” I enunciated each word clearly, to try and avoid any further miscommunication.

“I’ll also tell them about Mr Bridger.” Her voice was almost victorious, as if she'd finally solved the riddle she had made for herself.

The line went silent for a few moments before the saccharine sweet voice of Mitzy Barrett drawled out, “Austin darling, how are you? Such beastly news about the show!”

“Yeah thanks, Mitzy, anyway…”

“I mean how could they just cancel the show? It’s such a loss, and must be devastating to you young ones.”

I was beginning to get irritated, but agents and their clients had a Mutually Assured Destruction deal going on with a very reciprocal ' don’t bite the hand that feeds you ' approach to their communication. “Yeah thanks, Mitzy, that is what I’m calling about.”

“Oh it’s just awful,” she cooed.

“Mitzy!” I took a deep breath, plastered a smile on my face, and continued. “I wanted to find out if there were any projects that you guys could get me on. Outside of Hollywood. Like way outside.”

The line was silent for a few moments before a smatter of mutterings broke out quietly on the other end. Eventually, after a couple of minutes, she returned. “Way outside of Hollywood, you say? There is a movie that's approached us a few times over the past few weeks, but your schedule was always so busy with the show that we really didn’t think there was any point bringing it to you. It’s going to be a long shoot. They think about a year.”

“Sounds good.” I smiled.

“How does London sound?”

Could I do it? Could I pack up my whole life and say 'fuck it' and set my sight on foreign shores? There was no Dylan in London. There was no Dylan in L.A. either. I needed to move on and I needed to do something drastic. Before I could change my mind, I spoke.

“London sounds perfect.”