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

16. If you love someone, you say it, you say it right then, out loud. - My Best Friends Wedding

Austin

T he chill of the studio was a stark contrast to the warmth of the early morning sun that had bathed the city streets just an hour earlier. As I stepped through the doorways of the Amore Blue production studio, a familiar flutter of anticipation and dread settled in my stomach. This was my re-entry into the life I had left behind, not just the world of television, but also into the life of the man who had once meant everything to me and who I'd cast aside.

New York had always felt like our city, mine and Dylan's. It hadn't felt right to come back here at all in the time we'd been away. When I'd had to for industry events or meetings, I'd gotten out of the city as fast as my feet would carry me. However, now being back, the old familiar sense of home was creeping back beneath my skin. What I wouldn't give to be back in that little house of ours, with Dylan standing in his underwear, hair mussed up from sleep and whatever Olympian-level sex we'd had the night before. I would smile as I sidled up behind him, slipping my arms around his waist and pressing my lips where his neck met his shoulder…

I walked towards the reception desk of the building, intending to ask the man at security to call up for someone to come down and meet me. Before I could, however, thin fingers gripped my arm harshly and spun me around a hundred and eighty degrees.

"Mr. Ridge." The violent spin shook my head for a moment until my eyes focused on a slender woman in a form-fitting black pin-striped suit and heels. She regarded me coolly for a moment before glancing at the gold watch on her wrist. "A couple more minutes and you would have been officially late."

I shook my head slightly in disbelief before extending my hand out towards her. "Yes, I am Austin Ridge."

She glanced down at my hand as it if were personally offending her, before lightly gripping my fingertips and shaking them slightly. "I'm Gretal, an executive assistant here. If you need absolutely anything during your visit today, then I'm sure you will find someone to do that for you."

"Aaaaanyway," I began loudly, "I'm here to…"

"I'm going to cut you off right there Mr. Ridge." She held up a bony finger in the space between us. "I know exactly why you are here. It's my job to know every little thing that goes on in this building."

As I regained my bearings, Gretal's presence seemed to fill the space around us, her demeanour as rigid as the skyscrapers that lined the Manhattan skyline. She stood tall and unwavering, her eyes scanning me like a seasoned librarian assessing a misplaced book.

"I understand," I managed to say, smoothing down my jacket and trying to keep the bite out of my tone, a nervous gesture I hadn't realized I'd picked up. "I appreciate the efficiency. I'm here for the table read, first days and all that."

Gretal's eyes narrowed slightly, the ghost of a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Indeed, and we expect punctuality, Mr. Ridge. The team is very tight-knit and on a precise schedule. Granted it was a schedule I set out for them for the day, but you can't trust these people to think independently for themselves. Disruptions are… less than welcome."

The coolness of her tone was a clear reminder of the professional boundaries in the building, a hierarchy that was palpable in the air, and from the vibe that Gretal was giving off, the head honcho had to be Satan, because she was definitely a she-devil. This building had the feel of a world where every minute was accounted for, every role had its place, and every action was monitored by their claw-fingered overseer. I was not just stepping into a new role on a popular TV show; I was entering a regime where the unspoken rules were as crucial as the lines I'd already learned.

"Of course," I replied, masking the unease that flickered inside me with a practised smile. "I have no intention of causing any disruptions."

Gretal's expression softened, just barely, as if she appreciated the acknowledgement of her unspoken warnings. "Very well, follow me, Mr. Ridge. I'll take you up to the conference room where the read-through will be held. The rest of the cast is already assembling."

As we approached the conference room, the murmur of voices grew louder, a tangible buzz of creative energy that seeped through the door. Gretal paused her hand on the handle and turned to me. Her look was inscrutable, but there was a hint of advice in her tone. "Make your mark, Mr. Ridge. First impressions are lasting ones here."

With a decisive turn, Gretal opened the door and gestured for me to enter. I stepped into a room alive with the dynamic flow of the show's cast and crew, all contributing to the palpable hum of pre-table read anticipation. My entry drew a few discreet glances and nods of acknowledgement; the undercurrent of curiosity was subtle but unmistakable. I found a spot near the edge of the table and settled in, ready to absorb the collaborative atmosphere of my first show read-through.

Before the session could start, I spotted a familiar face, dark as thunder as she marched towards me. "Natalie." I nodded in greeting. Natalie was known for her sharp wit and even within the industry, known for her even sharper management style. Her expression was tight, signalling urgency as she gestured for me to follow her into a small side room off the main area. "No worries everyone," she called to the room. "Just want to make proper introductions once everyone has arrived. Exciting times," she muttered. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, the ambience of congenial professionalism vanished.

"What in the ever-loving-fuck do you think you're doing here?" Natalie hissed, her voice low but fierce. "I just heard this morning about the casting change, and Dylan is still in the dark. I've been trying to get in touch with him all morning."

I was taken aback, not just by her tone but by the implication. "Natalie, I was offered this role through the usual channels. My agent said it was urgent, and I…"

She cut me off with a sharp wave of her hand. "I don't care how you got here Austin. What matters is that you might not realize the situation you have charged into head first. Dylan is happy… finally. He and Jax have something solid, and if you're thinking of disrupting that because of past feelings or whatever the hell, then think again."

The threat was unmistakable in her clenched jaw and narrowed eyes. "I've worked too damn hard to let personal complications ruin this production. This is Dylan's baby and not one of us would be here without him. Jax is also key to this show's success. If I even smell trouble stirring up because of you, believe me, Austin, the rusty shears won't be far behind. And I'll personally smash your chances of getting into any type of spotlight ever again along with whatever else needs crushing under my boot."

Her words were a cold splash of reality, damping down the flickers of unresolved past emotions. Natalie's fierce loyalty to her cast and her show was to be expected, and her protective streak for her best friend and his personal well-being was as strong as it ever was.

"I understand Natalie," I responded, my voice steady despite the churning of emotions inside. "I'm here to work, that's all. You won't have any trouble from me."

"Good!" She glanced at her watch before dramatically sighing again. "Listen, Dylan and Jax are running late this morning, and we really need to get this show on the road, so I'm going to go announce you." And with that, she left the room and slammed the door behind her.

A few moments later, I heard her call my name, taking this as my cue to enter, I opened the double doors. Walking into the conference room felt like stepping onto a stage, the critical eyes of the cast and crew upon measuring, and assessing. They were curious about the newcomer, the last-minute addition to an already stellar lineup. Their gazes bore into me, each one with a reminder that here, in this room, I was an outsider. The room buzzed with a low murmur of industry chatter, punctuated by the rustling of scripts and the occasional clink of coffee cups.

As I made my entrance, I scanned the room for Dylan. There he was, looking every bit the successful showrunner, his demeanour calm and poised as he nodded towards an actress whose name escaped me, but who seemed to be in almost every show for the last few years. I also recognized her as a face from the previous season's cliff-hanger finale. The sight of him, so focused and in command, sent a wave of regret and need through me so heavy that I thought it might knock me to the floor. Our eyes met across the room, and for a moment, the years rolled away, leaving the raw ache of our past laid bare between us. His expression shifted subtly, a tightening around the corners of his eyes, a hardening of his jaw. The room's temperature seemed to drop a few more degrees.

Jax, standing close by to Dylan's side, turned to look at me. His greeting was polite, yet reserved, a guardedness in his eyes that was not entirely unfriendly but spoke volumes of his awareness of my history with Dylan. He whispered something in Dylan's ear. Dylan smiled and took a deep breath, taking a seat next to Natalie at the head of the table. Jax made his way around the table and stood before me. The handshake was brief, the contact minimal, a clear delineation of where we stood. It was a professionalism tinged with caution, and I couldn't blame him.

"Right, so I know you are all probably wondering what on earth Austin Ridge is doing here." Natalie smiled through clenched teeth. "I think it's a bit of a shock to us all." She glanced quickly at Dylan before schooling her face back into a grin aimed at the rest of the room. "It turns out that Theo, who should have been playing the role of Virgil, had a change of heart about being well and truly done with the pop industry and will be embarking on a tour with his band. So while we won't have him on our season, we do have a lot of new ' music ' to look forward to," she quoted with her fingertips. A smattering of laughter rose up around the room.

"And," I almost gasped as I heard Dylan's voice for the first time in what felt like forever, "we have Austin Ridge to come and take his place. All of you will have seen Austin's movies over the past year, so we are lucky to have some additional star power to draw in those demographics."

"I look forward to working with you," the older actress whose name I still couldn't remember purred at me.

"Easy there, Lynne," another actor laughed and nodded towards me, "he'll be playing your son. We don't want any mother and son romance scandals." He winked lasciviously.

"Aside from the fact I am a married woman, George," she held a hand over her chest dramatically, "I am fairly sure that Mr. Ridge would prefer someone more his own age." She smiled sweetly at me.

I laughed nervously, fiddling with the watch on my wrist. "Although you are a very beautiful woman, Lynne," I bit the inside of my cheek, "you're right, you aren't really my type."

"See?" She gestured towards me whilst addressing George.

Here goes. "What I meant was," I continued, raising my voice slightly so it carried across the room, "I'm gay." The words hung in the air, a definitive statement of identity. Across the table, I saw Dylan choke slightly on the water he was drinking, his reaction drawing a few concerned looks, including one from Jax who was quick to walk around the table and place a comforting hand on his back. The moment was fleeting but charged. Jax's gaze shifted to me with a protective sharpness that I hadn't quite anticipated.

The room's atmosphere tensed for a moment. Curiosity, surprise, and a hint of discomfort mingled in the air. Natalie quickly took control of the situation, her voice crisp as she redirected our focus. "Alright, let's settle down everyone. It's really great that you feel comfortable sharing that bit of brand-new information with the room, Austin." Natalie had on more than one occasion walked in on myself and Dylan in a number of sexually compromising situations, so the news was definitely not brand new to her. "Let's start the read-through. We've got a lot to cover today."

Taking a seat at the edge of the table, I unfolded my script, the pages crisp under my fingers – a stark reminder of why I was there. As the read-through began, I focused on the characters, and the story, immersing myself in the world Dylan had created. His talent was undeniable, each line of dialogue painting vivid pictures, each character arc woven seamlessly into the fabric of the plot.

Every glance across the table sent a pang of yearning through me. Memories of Dylan's lips, the taste of him, and the press of his body against mine flooded my senses, disrupting my focus. His laugh, which used to be my favourite sound, now echoed across the room, reminding me of what we once had and intensifying the ache of his absence in my life.

Natalie, ever-observant, caught the direction of my gaze and shot me a stern look, her eyes narrowing slightly in warning. It was clear she'd noticed my attention was more on Dylan than on the script in front of me. Jax, too, seemed aware of my lingering looks. His eyes met mine for a brief moment, hard and unyielding, his stare a silent warning to maintain my distance. The message was clear: Dylan was off-limits, and any misplaced affection from my side would not be welcomed.

The atmosphere thickened with unspoken tensions, making the air around me feel heavier. I just wanted Dylan to look at me. I needed his eyes on me, and every time his soft smile aimed Jax's way it was like a knife in the gut. I forced myself to redirect my attention back to the script, to anchor myself in the reality of my character's life rather than dwell on the past that seemed to be out of reach.

As the read-through began, I threw myself into Virgil's character, channelling my tumultuous emotions into the lines on the page. Each new section was a release, and each interaction was a step forward toward reclaiming my place in Dylan's world. The other cast members responded, the energy in the room growing as we delved deeper into the season's complexities.

"Can you believe that those two are only recently an item?" George whispered in my ear, clearly authentic in his words. "I mean, we all thought that they would end up together at some point, but poor Dylan held out for as long as he could."

"What do you mean?" My interest was piqued.

"Well from what I hear," he whispered conspiratorially, "that Dylan was initially hesitant to get with Jax. Hillary, from Corporate, told me, that Jax had told him that he would wait until Dylan was ready to give him a shot. Poor Jax. Dylan kept him waiting for such a long time, but I guess with that giant hunk of a man waiting for you, you can't hold out forever."

"So Dylan didn't really want a relationship with him?" I knew I was being petty, but I couldn't help myself.

"I wouldn't say that," George shrugged. "For the longest time he always looked so sad, like his heart was breaking in slow motion. For the last few months though, he smiles so much more. He looks happy at last." I let that bullet to the heart sit with me for a moment as the final few scenes came to a close.

The cast dispersed for lunch, the previous intensity of the room dissipating as the conversations turned to lighter topics. I stood by the coffee station, trying to collect my thoughts, when Dylan approached to pour himself a coffee. Just as he reached the carafe, a phone buzzed from across the room. Jax, who had been speaking animatedly with a group of producers, plucked a cell from his pocket and read from the screen. He excused himself and quickly made his way to Dylan's side.

Whispering something into Dylan's ear, Jax's expression was serious, filled with concern. Dylan's features were clouded with sadness, his eyes flickering with emotions that I couldn't quite decipher from across the room. "Kiss me," I heard Jax murmur. Dylan stood up onto his tiptoes and kissed Jax deeply, an expression of affection that seemed to be both comfort and a proclamation.

The sight twisted something deep within me, a visceral punch to the gut. It was as if Dylan was cheating on me, despite the absurdity of the thought. We weren't together; we hadn't been together for a very long time. He was free to be with whomever he wanted, to find happiness where he could. Yet, watching him in Jax's arms, laughing softly as they parted, ignited a raw, almost primal sense of loss and jealousy within me.

Shaking off the nausea, I approached Dylan as he returned to the coffee station after Jax left with his cell phone pressed to his ear. "Dylan," I started, my voice steadier than I felt, trying to sound casual, "It's impressive, what you've built here. Really."

Dylan glanced up, his eyes guarded. "Thanks, Austin. A lot of blood, sweat and tears went into it. But it's a team effort." I knew what he wanted to say was that it was all thanks to Jax for making the show the mammoth success that it was. But just like Dylan, I could read him like a book. He was trying to protect my feelings by not saying what he wanted to say.

"Jax is a terrific actor," I ventured, "I hate to admit it, but I am a bit of a fan. I watched the first two seasons between productions of the last two movies that I shot in Europe and was completely hooked."

"That's kind of you to say," he smiled shyly, "and yes, Spencer… sorry, Jax really is something." Dylan looked away quickly, his teeth worrying his bottom lip nervously as a pink blush spread from his neck upwards towards his cheeks. I knew that look. I'd been the cause of that look more times than I could count. Dylan was thinking of something sexual that he and Jax had done, and was trying to not get aroused whilst standing directly in front of me. What in the ever-loving fuck fresh hell is this?

The room seemed to grow quieter around us, the buzz of the other conversations dimming as the space between us charged with unspoken tension. "I know we didn't part under the best circumstances."

"You can say that again," he chuffed out a laugh.

I continued, each word weighted with the heaviness of the years together that hung between us. "But seeing all this… I hope we can move past that. Professionally, at least."

Dylan's gaze intensified, his patience thinning. "What are you really doing here, Austin?" His voice was low, a hint of frustration breaking through. "This isn't just about a job, is it?"

The question, so direct, slipped past my defences and stripped away any pretence I might have clung to. Swallowing hard, I met his stare, honesty pulling the truth from me. "This is a great opportunity, and I'd be a fool to say otherwise. But part of the draw… is you, Dylan."

"What…"

"Even if it means watching you with someone else. Yes, it's killing me, watching his hands all over you." My eyes raked across his body. "Seeing your lips on his. The smile that you used to reserve only for me, is now given to him so freely." I placed a fist over my heart. "I understand, even if only a little, what you must have felt that night in the garden with Kevin."

"Austin…"

"I know I only have myself to blame," I interrupted. "Doesn't stop me from wanting you. I want you with every fiber of my being and I don't know how to stop."

Dylan's expression hardened the softness from a few moments ago now completely wiped away. "We're here to work, Austin. That's all this can ever be now. Remember that I'm your boss, not your… not whatever we used to be."

"Whatever we used to be?" My brain couldn't comprehend those words leaving his lips. "What you used to be, was my everything."

"Until I wasn't." he shrugged.

He didn't wait for my response, turning on his heel and walking away, leaving me staring after him, the finality of his words echoing in my mind. As I watched him go, a fierce resolve settled over me. Dylan was mine, had always been mine; he just didn't know it yet. And somehow, I had to find a way to show him. Even if from a painful distance.