~Pre Production ~

Walts

"What? A gay character?" I stare at my long time friend in disbelief.

"Lead role. Go through the script." Reed replies, pushing the bundled file to my side.

"Why me?"

"Do you want to get back to acting or planning to stay at home for another ten years?"

Has it been ten years? My last movie release feels like yesterday.

"So what? Why me? You should get an actual gay actor for this if it is that good of a script. Not a straight man."

I am not very straight. Like, not at all. Reed doesn't know that.

Reed swirls in his chair. "Thanks, Walts. That's why I need you, to tell me the obvious."

"Then tell me why."

He gets up. "The director gave me a list of names for casting. But your name was on the original draft. It. . . I have a feeling about this Walts. After imagining you in the role I can't unsee it. You are the hero. Gay or not. You are the only one I want in this movie."

Reed runs a producing house successfully on the sole ability of 'having a feeling about a project'. I don't have a reason to doubt it. Out of my nine feature films he picked seven. Box office hits, all of them.

But. . . thinking of acting churns my stomach.

"That's great. Yeah. See you in five." Reed's voice breaks through my thoughts.

How long have I been staring at him? Why didn't I realize when he started talking on the phone?

It is scary to think about how often I get lost in the void abyss of my mind.

"Come on. Let's meet the team." Reed slaps my back and walks to the door.

"Reed! Stop." I stand up in panic. "Already? I didn't agree to do it!"

Reed glares at me. "You are here! In my office! Do you know how long it has been? Fucking decades! That's how long. You are going to do this movie. See if I care about anything else!"

He storms out of the room.

Closing my eyes I collect myself. Reed doesn't have to do this. He has been cajoling me to do projects every now and then. As he said, I had not shown a bit of interest in any of them. He hasn't gotten this upset before now.

I owe it to him to at least sit through this meeting.

Who am I kidding? I have to sign this movie. I have to get in front of the camera again. Find my footing. Before I am lost forever in the void abyss.

***
"This is Bobby. Art director. Everyone else you know already." Reed grins and pats my back.

I look around the table. Four faces smile at me.

Reed wasn't kidding.

He has put together the best team possible. Including me.

"I wasn't sure you would agree to do a romance film," Joseph says. He is the best in the music industry.

Romance?

"What do you mean? This is a romance?" I turn to my side.

Reed nods.

Then it strikes me. "Gay romance?"

Olivia laughs from my other side. She is a line producer. "Didn't Reed tell you anything? You are a forty year old wheat farmer. Gay farmer."

"Wha—" I look around the table. They are still smiling. "I am an action movie star." I tell them as if they don't know that. "Is there any stunt in this thing? Am I stopping the invasion of a giant wheat eating alien?"

Reed pats my back. He has been doing that a lot today. "Let's hear it from the director. Everyone, meet Tony Andrus!"

Tony Andrus.

Never heard of this name.

A haggard looking guy in shorts and a colorless, sleeveless t-shirt walks inside the room.

He gazes around the room with a grim mouth and the grimness drops when he catches my eyes.

"What's he doing here?" he asks.

"He is your hero," Reed announces.

"I'll be right back." The man turns on his heel and walks out.

"I think he is not happy with your choice," I say in the silence that follows his exit. I am somewhat glad and also hurt by the insult.

"You think wrong," Reed replies with confidence.

"I have never heard of him before," I say.

"He has done some documentaries. But mostly AD work," Joseph replies.

"Is this his first full feature film?" I ask Reed in utter disbelief.

He has chosen a gay farmer story to be directed by a green director with no experience for my comeback.

He must be losing his touch.

My comeback is going to be a bigger mess than my coming out.

***

Tony

What the actual fuck! Fuck!

Walts Ray.

Walts Ray is here. He is here to act in my film.

I slap my cheek.

It stings.

I slap the other side.

It stings.

Slap.

Slap.

It stings good. This is not a dream.

I need to get myself together.

If I have to pull this off I need to act like a sane director. Not as a moonstruck idiot who got to direct his favorite actor in his first ever full length direction.

What a dream come true moment!

I wrote this fucking script for Walts.

Fourteen years ago.

Now he is going to bring it to life.

Walts is going to make this movie a hit. A study for film schools.

If I don't fuck it up.

I won't.

I love him too much to fuck it up.

He needs this. He hasn't done a movie in nine years.

I need this. I haven't done a movie at all.

We need this.

I get up from the toilet seat and open the toilet door.

I shouldn't have walked out on them like that.

What would Walts think of me?

But how could I stand there?

What a shock it was to see Walts after so many years.

In flesh and blood.

I stare at myself in the mirror. He has changed a lot. He hasn't aged much.

No, sir.

Age hasn't done a thing to him. At thirty seven he still looks like a twenty one year old heart throb.

He has changed in more subtle ways. Heartbreaking ways.

No.

Slap.

Don't think about him.

Think about the script. My movie.

My first chance to direct a full length film. I owe it to Reed for believing in me.

I have to succeed.

***
Walts

Tony Andrus comes back looking grimmer than before.

Shakes everyone's hand with a grim nod.

"A honor," he murmurs when we exchange a handshake.

I bet he feels anything but honor. I bet he is an artsy director who looks down on action films.

Reed sighs when we settle down back in our seats. "Tell us your story, Tony."

Tony, a meek looking, permanently grim faced guy starts his story at a funeral.

Quarter way through it, I am sleepy.

Half way through his narration I want to punch the sister character in the face.

Towards the end I am dead. Absolutely dead. The most boring script of the millennia. Raymond- the hero character is the worst.

"That's it? You forgot an important character," Reed says.

Tony scowls at him.

Reed scowls back. "Raymond's love interest? You completely left that out. As if—" he trails off.

"No love interest for Raymond." Tony grimly states.

"Why not?" Why would anyone remove a love interest from a romance story? Then it hits me. I squint at him. "Is it because of me?"

Did he change the story line on the spot after learning who was doing the lead role?

"Yes," Tony says.

What?

"Why? Do you think a straight man can't do justice to a gay romance?" My voice is gaining decibels. I am usually not a person to get angry. I prefer to walk out rather than yell. But Tony's insinuation about my acting skills are irking me more than I am willing to admit.

Sure, all my career has to show is stunt sequences. That doesn't mean I can't act.

Tony scowls. "With anyone else it would be a decent side arc, with you it would be distracting."

I almost get up but Reed places his hand on my shoulder. "But Tony, don't you want to—"

Tony interrupts him. "No. That decision is final. No romance. Any other questions?"

"You don't trust me," I say.

Tony's mouth twists. "I trust you very much. I couldn't have asked for a better man for Raymond."

I find it hard to believe in his words. Some critics think that two Oscars for an action hero who has never done anything other than stunts is unfair. Those critics think I can't act in any complex character roles.

I can.

Acting is my passion. I didn't put makeup on for fame or wealth. I thirst to bring characters to life.

I will prove it to Tony. I will bring his boring Raymond to life. I will prove to every critic that I can act in dumb artsy scripts too.

"Give me the character references. I'll start preparing right away."

Tony gets up and stares at my head. "Don't cut your hair. Hopefully we should be able to get to a man bun in six months."

What?

Man bun!

I shake my head. Boring Raymond has a man bun. So be it.

"I meant about getting into the character. I know nothing about farming. What should I —"

He ttches. "We are all born farmers. Just be yourself."

Olivia asks something but I can't concentrate. This guy completely doesn't believe in my acting.

I complain to Reed when we are alone after the meeting. "I have never seen such a grumpy man. He hates me. I am sure of it. Just be yourself! There is not a single fight sequence! How am I supposed to be myself? Man bun? Reed! Never had a beard in my life. What are you getting me into?"

Reed hugs me. "Love you, dude. If only I had known this I would have done it nine years ago."

I push him away. "What is 'this'?"

"A director who doesn't trust your skills. A role, way out of your usual work."

So I am correct. Tony doesn't trust me. "Worst script ever. Am I going to fuck it up?"

He slaps my back. "In your dreams. But even if this project goes up in flames, I will be happy losing the money just to see you on a big screen again."

Reed loves cinema as much as I do. He picks scripts for the weirdest reasons.

I am a gay farmer.

Farmer. Oh, no.

"I know nothing about it, Reed. Nothing. We are born farmers! My foot. Why would he say such a thing? Where is my list of things to learn? Does he want me to embarrass myself in front of the whole crew?"

Reed grins and then hugs me again. "I am going to hate you for the next six months. But I swear to god, I missed your intolerable nagging to learn your character. I was worried you would say no again. I am glad."

I have learnt to shut out emotions. It became easier in the past years. Otherwise I would be emotional right now. Reed lets go of me. "Come home. Madam wife will be happy to see you."

His wife, my first screen wife, Kate, is my biggest fan. I won't be able to handle her questions today. I barely know my role as it is.

"Rain check. I have things to do."

He laughs. "You are going to Google the hell out of farming. Aren't you?"

"No. Does the beard hurt?"

"We can ask my new assistant. He has a good one. Let's finish the paperwork while you are here."

The excitement which comes with every new project signing is not there. In its place is an anxious new feeling. A dread.

Will I be able to deliver it?

Will I become a laughing stock?

***

Tony

Walts thinks he can't do romance!

He is so natural at it. That's why I can't have romance in my film. He will distract the whole storyline with the romance sequence.

The audience will start anticipating the next romance scene.

Never good.

Also, how can I ask him to love a person on screen when he is still recovering from the wounds of his past love?

I hate Shirley.

Beautiful, cunning Shirley.

Walts loved her.

She loved the attention.

She left him once she learnt how to get more of it.

Walts. . . shattered.

He shut himself off from the outside world. Stopped signing new films. Not many knew where the blame lay. Shirley made sure of it.

So she climbed up the Hollywood ladder while the man who loved her chose to resign himself to his heartbreak.

If objectively seen, Shirley did nothing world shattering. She broke up with a man and moved on with her life.

It would have been okay with anyone else.

Not with Walts Ray.

Walts does everything with his two hundred percentage commitment.

Shirley was not deserving of his two hundred percentage.

I hate her. I hate how loving her has changed Walts in her absence.

If there is a God, let this be a sign.

A sign that he is okay. He finally got over her.

A sign that I will get to see him in his former glory.

Maybe one day I will get to tell him about my love for him too. And it won't scare him.

***
~ Production ~

Walts

"How do I look?"

I ask Bobby. He rubs some more mud on the front of my shirt.

"Told you. Proper farmer."

"A real daddy," my makeup man says.

Bobby laughs. "Fact. I was skeptical of how this bun would look on you. Turned you into a proper daddy material."

"Pity I can't daddy anyone." I am still bitter about the no love interest debacle.

Shooting started twenty days ago. Today is my first scene. A very intense scene.

Raymond has to cry for sixty seconds. In real life sixty seconds of sobbing is nothing. But in reel, sixty seconds of a close-up shot of one person crying is depressing as hell and challenging to keep it interesting.

Tony has kept that as my first scene.

A test. A blatant test of my skills.

A welcome one.

I have been on set from the first day of shooting. The crew has rented half of a small farming town and we are camping in a big farmhouse.

I have been watching the shooting. Watching Tony's direction. For all his haggard, meek persona he is one tough master to satisfy.

Benny, who is doing the sister role, took thirty three retakes on a single scene. The scene was nothing but her walking from one end of a stable to the other end carrying a basket full of eggs.

He is quick to call for retakes. He is also quicker to point out what is wrong. Reed left the set the second day. He couldn't handle the merciless repetition and criticism.

Benny jokes that it is like being back in acting school.

Tony is lucky that way.

He is the only inexperienced person in this crew. All actors and technicians are high profile. Luckier for him that none of us are stuck up.

Benny has so many awards that nobody is counting them anymore. But she would never disregard negative feedback.

Good artists are always open to learn more.

This crew is one bundle of such artists.

Sometimes it is easy to forget this is Tony's first feature film. He is one heck of a director with so much wisdom to part.

The crew soaks it all up.

If Tony so much as twists his mouth, the crew redid everything. The actors asked for retakes themselves.

Tony had such a control over his mouth. It is grim or grimmer.

Nobody wanted the grimness to drop which meant he was upset.

He got upset only a handful of times since the shooting started.

I hope today's shoot doesn't add to it.

I have rehearsed the scene enough times to get a headache. But I still feel like a student doing his first stage play.

I am Raymond. Forty years old. Love my older sister Gloria and my farm. I am going to cry alone in my room because my sister decided to side with the town. The only person who understood me is no longer ready to believe in me.

The whole crew is watching.

With a mud strained shirt I sit down on the floor and gaze at the potted plant next to my bed.

"Action!" The call rings in my ears and I become Raymond.

"Cut!" The call creeps in while I am still crying.

I wipe my eyes and look up at Tony.

"Next scene!" He calls out from behind the tiny monitor.

What?

No retake?

What? Really?

I look at the faces closer to me to get some kind of validation. But they are all already moving to do the director's call.

I can't.

Fuck it.

I will ask him.

"Can I see the shot?" I call out as I jog up to him.

"No."

"Please? I am not sure if I have done it the way I envisioned."

"You have done it the way I envisioned."

Is that a compliment?

I hope so.

***

The remainder of the shooting is a breeze. I nail every scene. I actually enjoy being Raymond, the boring farmer.

Christopher, a seventy nine years old legend of an actor tells me one evening, "I didn't know you had this in you. Choose your scripts wisely and do a variety of roles."

It felt like a personal Oscar. An award you have to keep a secret. A validation I can't share with others because it is so precious.

Today is the last scene for me. A simple, light hearted one.

It doesn't feel like that after the twelfth take.

"You are not laughing," Tony says. There is a grimness around his mouth.

The scene is this.

Gloria, Raymond and the farm workers- a few teenagers are sitting on an open tractor, chatting and laughing.

Tony has called for retake even before I can reach a full on laugh. And he is complaining that I am not laughing.

"You know I am laughing."

"No. That's not it."

"Can you not call for cut and let it run for a minute, please?" I ask, desperate to do it correcr.

He nods and goes back to his chair.

Benny gives silent support as I hop back in the tractor.

When action is called I give my everything, think of every joy and laugh.

I laugh so long and hard. My eyes start watering.

Cut call comes after I wipe my eyes.

I turn to Tony in anticipation.

My smile drops.

There is no grimness around his mouth. "Let's call it a day!"

He walks off.

The next day I want to quit.

I want to call Reed and complain about Tony.

The laughing scene is at take number hundred and four.

I am embarrassed to admit that I am humbled.

I hate Tony.

I hate the whole crew.

I hate their advice on how to laugh.

I am fucking laughing.

But Tony is not happy. Actually he is sad. His mouth is slack.

We broke for lunch thirty minutes ago.

We are going to try again. But if he calls for retake I am going to beg him to rewrite the scene.

I don't want to hate laughing.

***

Tony

Fuck. Fuck.

Walts forgot how to laugh.

How does that happen?

How could a man lose his laughter?

He cried soul wrenchingly. But he can't laugh to convince a baby.

He used to laugh with his heart. The whole set would vibrate in his laugh. A loud, grand sound that is full of humor and joy. So much joy.

Now he is just mimicking the motion. A muscle memory. No joy. No soul. His eyes shine but no joy.

Shirley did this to him.

No, he did this to himself.

I have to do something about it.

***

Walts

"Wow. Such a beauty! Whose is this?" I touch the motorcycle.

I have not touched one in ten years. I love them. I love to ride them. Most of my films have a fight sequence involving me and a motorcycle.

"Tony had it brought down," an assistant director says.

"Tell me there is an action scene. " I tilt the side mirror and watch Tony walking towards us in the reflection.

The AD laughs. "No way." He slinks away noticing Tony.

Tony stops next to me and takes out a key from his shorts pocket.

"We are going out." He pushes the key in.

"Great!" I try to step closer but he blocks me.

"I am driving," he slings a leg over the motorcycle and releases the stand all at once. "Hop on the back."

I am. . . I don't know what to say.

I stand there, staring at this guy who wants to take me on a motorcycle ride.

"I am good at this. Don't worry," he assures me.

I don't move.

"This is mine," he caresses the tank.

Oh.

For all my love for the vehicle I don't own one.

"I have never sat in a pillion." I think that's why I am hesitating.

He shrugs.

"Don't we need helmets?" I ask.

He shrugs again.

"Fuck it," I mutter and get on the back.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah." It is weird and somewhat uncomfortable back here.

"Hold on tightly." He revs and the beast comes to life.

I grab hold of him.

***
Tony

Fuck. . . fuck!

Walts has plastered himself on my back.

I asked him to hold on to the hand bars! Not my back.

His face is pressed right on my shoulder blade.

Oh! He is doing exactly like his movie heroines!

Doesn't he know there is no need to hug the driver to ride pillion?

His arms are banded around my middle.

What kind of dream is this?

I only wanted to take him on a ride to relax him. To make him see the greenery and destress. To forget all the retakes I put him through.

I didn't expect to be hugged like this.

Focus!

I am on a hill slope, driving a beast without a helmet and with an expensive cargo on my back.

I need to focus!

I can't focus.

My shoulders sag when his face rubs against my skin.

I am going to enjoy this.

Fuck it.

***
Walts

"This is great!"  I say. I am never getting on a bike again unless it's driven by someone else.

"What?" Tony shouts against the wind.

I lean closer to his ear and say it again. "This is great!"

He nods. "Look around."

I do. We are on a mountain slope. Surrounded by tall, mighty trees.

It all reminds me of a scene from a long ago film.

I close my eyes and tilt my head back. The wind slaps against my face.

I slowly straighten my body and spread my arms.

I am flying.

The wind is everywhere.

I am wind.

My head starts spinning.

I lean forward and hug Tony's back to reduce the vertigo.

"Alright?" he slows down.

"Yeah."

***

Tony doesn't schedule my laughing scene again.

I don't let it bother me. Instead I decided to self-reflect.

I sit down in front of a mirror to see what I am doing wrong.

I smile.

It looks good.

I laugh.

The sound echoes on the empty corners of the room.

It is good.

What the heck is wrong then?

I go to the shooting spot.

A town meeting scene is in progress.

Tony has his head bent, listening to Christopher.

I watch them. Him.

He always wears sleeveless t-shirts and shorts. Both colorless. They might have had a color when they were new but not anymore.

He is always grim but attentive. Our bike ride was him being attentive. Attention to my stress.

I feel a lot better now. Thanks to him.

He gave me the key to his motorcycle.

It felt like a bribe to pressure me into laughing like he wants.

But. . .

Oops. I am caught staring.

Tony scowls and waves a hand at me. I move closer to him. "I was thinking about my laughing scene."

Christopher chuckles. "Still at it?"

"Yeah. I need a reference. Can you show me what you are expecting?" I ask Tony.

Tony shakes his head. "I am not Raymond. I don't know how to laugh like him." He walks away with that.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask Christopher.

"I think I get it. He can only say what doesn't work, you know?" Christopher taps his temple. "He is that kind of director. He wants his characters to have their own mannerisms. He wants Raymond to laugh. He can't dictate it. He will just know when it is right."

Absolutely not helpful. I can't say that to a senior artist.

I come back to my room and boot my laptop.

I am going to watch farmer's laughs.

An hour into it I haven't learnt anything useful.

I load my own videos. My acting rehearsals.

I shouldn't have.

I have forgotten that some of them have Shirley in them.

Shirley laughing with me, at me. Shirley teasing and taunting.

I was happy. We were happy.

What went wrong? Why?

I know what went wrong. I told her I am bi.

I thought we were close enough to trust her with my truth.

We weren't.

Wasn't my love enough for her?

Is being bi a crime?

I shake my head. No. I spent ten years asking these questions. Not anymore.

I am happy now. Acting again. Failing at it. But I am acting. Isn't it great?

It is.

I shut the laptop and go out to the set again.

Tony is teaching an extra how to hold a horse.

"How does he know so much about everything here?" I ask no one in particular.

"He grew up in this region. It comes naturally to him."

I look at the person who answered my question.

He is the same AD who stood with the motorcycle.

"That explains it. Have you known him for a long time?" I ask.

As a principal I don't gossip. This curiosity is part of the process I suppose. I should know my director to figure out what he expects from me.

"You could say that."

"Does he ever smile?"

The guy looks at me in shock. "Of course!"

"He is very. . . this." I point my head at Tony who is standing there fully ready to yell at the first chance he gets.

"Stress. Wouldn't you be? If your first feature film is this one?"

Hmm. "Is he intimidated by this crew? I don't think so."

"Just worried. Like any director worth his camera. This is his dream project."

"Oh."

Is he gay? I don't ask.

I don't have much hope for the movie as a whole. I haven't watched a single shot after it was taken. Tony refuses to show them to anyone. But from what I have seen live only a few sequences hold weight. My first impression of the script still holds true.

This is the most boring movie ever.

That doesn't mean I don't want to give it my best.

"I don't know what he expects from me in the laughing scene." I admit in a low voice.

"Don't worry about it. He removed it."

I worry about it.

I pride myself on my acting skills. Such a simple action should not be a challenge. Something is missing.

Maybe Reed should have casted a proper gay man who is out and proud. Then the laughing scene would have worked as per Tony's vision.

***

I knock on Tony's door the next day.

"It's open," he calls out.

He is sitting on the hardwood floor of the room. Papers spread around him.

"Wrong time?"

He shakes his head. "Just wrapping up."

I stand there and go over what I wanted to say once again in my head.

Tomorrow we are wrapping up the shooting.

"I want to thank you," I start.

He gets up. He is shorter than me by a couple of inches. But makes it up by scowling.

"For this movie. I know you were not happy with me playing Raymond. But I hope you don't regret it very much now. I enjoyed working. That's saying something because you haven't shown me a single clip from the shoot. My only regret was not laughing like you wanted. I wish we had done it somehow." I sigh.

"We have," he says.

I stare at him in surprise. "Did you pick one of the shots?"

He takes the handy cam lying on his bed and motions for me to come closer.

He plays a clip.

I am smiling on the screen. It is not a set shot.

Benny and I are seated on the wooden steps of the house and watching the horses run around the fence. The sun is bright on my face.

I am more grimacing than smiling. But I. . . I. . .

Finally understanding dawns on me. He wanted to show happiness.

I am looking happy in this clip. Carefree and alive.

I blink back a sudden rush of emotion and gaze at him.

He stares right back at me.

Vulnerable.

That's what I feel.

I am going to break down and cry and he is going to console me. I will tell him every emotion I am feeling and he will make them make sense.

Oh fuck. Not again. I am never sharing my feelings again.

I blink again.

"Can I watch other scenes?" I ask.

He pulls the camera back. "No."

"Why?"

"Needs editing. It won't—"

"I know. I just—"

"No. You won't —"

"Fine. I get it. I hope it comes out the way you wanted. I know you weren't happy with casting me. I. . . Yeah." I shake my head feeling disoriented.

He keeps staring at me.

I leave his room to stop feeling too much. Too much of what? I don't know.

***
~ post production ~

Walts

"Did you see?" I ask Reed with barely contained eagerness.

"No. He refuses to show anyone who isn't in the sound mixing team. I talked with Nicha, the sound engineer, and she told me that she hadn't  seen the full cut. Looks like no one saw the full thing. Only the final version. That too not too many people. Just like six people."

This is infuriating.

"But you are the producer! How can he say no to you?" There is no way this film is getting released without Reed watching it.

Reed sighs on the other end. "Relax. Nicha has seen it. She says it's good."

"Good? GOOD? HOW IS THAT ENOUGH FOR YOU?"

I take a deep breath. Tony shouldn't be doing this. He should have shown the whole one thousand and twenty five reels to me. I should have had the opportunity to judge my acting before the public.

"Call Joseph. He told me he liked it."

"I am not calling anyone! I want to see it for myself! Why can't I?"

"You can. The premiere is next week. Tuesday. I will send you the details."

What? Already!

"Reed! Are you seriously releasing this without watching it even once?"

"I trust my team."

That includes me. I am really touched. But. . . Fuck. . . I want to see the movie now.

Looks like I have to wait till Tuesday.

***

My phone keeps ringing from the morning. I haven't picked a single call or checked the texts.

Today is Tuesday.

The movie has been shown to the media members.

I am yet to watch. I am on my way to the theater. I am mad at Reed for inviting me to the evening show. Shouldn't I be the first one to watch? How am I to respond to phone calls when I don't know how the film has turned out?

***
Tony

Walts is riveted to his seat. His gaze is glued to the screen.

My gaze is glued to his face.

His face is a study of art. In the reflecting glow of the screen light his expressions are marvelous.

I wish I was sitting next to him. But then I wouldn't be able to watch his reactions like this.

Now I am standing next to the aisle, staring at him to my heart's wish.

My heart is full today.

I have delivered my promise.

I hope it makes him happy.

***
Walts

The movie is over.

Credits are rolling.

There is a roaring applause.

Someone is hugging me.

Dragging me from my chair.

Kissing my cheek.

Shaking my hands with vigor.

What a movie!

Fuck.

It was me! I was in that movie.

I want to watch it again.

"WALTS!" somebody shakes my head.

Reed.

I grin at him. "Did you see that?"

He laughs and hugs me.

"Where is Tony?" I ask when he pulls away. "Why didn't he show us this before? I want to watch it again."

I look around searching for the director.

Tony is talking to Benny.

I push forward and reach them in a rush. Benny is already walking away.

I grab Tony's collar before he can walk away. He turns back.

He still looks grim.

"Thank you." It seems appropriate to thank him. "Is Benny happy? She was great as usual."

He nods.

I smile. "We should have dinner sometime. I have so much to ask."

He raises his eyebrows. "Us?"

"Yes!"

"Where?"

"Anywhere! But if it is a small private setting it would be nice." I want all of us to get together and have a relaxed chat. I want to thank everyone in the team at an informal dinner.

"My home? I can coo—"

I grab his biceps. "Perfect! Just send me the details. I will be there!"

He nods again.

***

Tony

What the fuck just happened?

Did I just agree to have a date with Walts?

A dinner?

At my place?

Did I agree to cook?

Oh fuck.

Why?

Why was he suddenly interested in me?

Was it the movie?

Did he like me now?

Oh fuck.

What to cook?

When to invite him?

Fuck.

***
Walts

Tony emails the very next day.

Dinner at 7.

I have watched the film five times already.

I am in love with it.

How did I not see this when we were actually shooting?

I have sent gifts for each member in the crew. It's a tradition of mine. Picking something from their wishlist to give them.

Reed didn't have a wishlist for Tony.

No worries. I can ask him when I meet him tonight. I can go early and have this little chat before others arrive.

His address is in a tightly packed street in the downtown.

When the door opens I get sniffed by a. . .

"You have a dog." I gently extend my hand to the brown being. It sniffs my fingers.

"Mint. This is Mint." Tony rubs the back of the dog.

Mint wags his tail and struts inside.

Tony follows him.

He is different tonight.

"You own shirts with sleeves! That's a surprise."

He laughs.

I almost forget my manners.

"Here, I have bought some cookies and wine."

He points at the kitchen island.

The flat is rather small. The closed door must be the bedroom. A strip of passage for the kitchen and a living room just enough for a three seater couch and a table.

How is he going to host the film crew?

Is there a terrace area?

There must be.

Even if there isn't, the crew wouldn't mind the small space. It will be cozy.

I lean on the counter top and look at Tony.

He smiles.

Fuck. He must be happy.

"Did you read David's review?" I ask.

"No." He leans on the opposite wall.

"Why not? He has written a full page review. His best. Read and tell me if his take is correct."

Tony chuckles. "No."

Some things don't change. At least he isn't grumpy.

"Oh, before I forget, what would you like? You know from me. I usually gift—"

"I know. I don't need anything."

I scoff. "Better say something you want. If not I would get whatever strikes my fancy."

"What would that be?"

I straighten up and look around the kitchen for inspiration.

Mint is curled up in a purple dog bed. The bed looks old.

Actually all the furniture is old.

I suddenly remembered that this is his first film. Whatever I get him would be a luxury.

So I go for something outrageous.

"A house in the suburbs. With a big lawn for Mint." As I say the words it sounds like a great gift. A fitting gift for my director who delivered a blockbuster movie.

Tony's eyes go wide in surprise.

"That's nonsense."

"Don't you believe me?"

He straightens and steps closer. "I do. I have no doubt about it. You would scout for the house yourself, make a dog house and oversee the fence work. You would give me the key in a green velvet box."

That's very specific and very accurate. I was just now thinking about a green box as a joke. For naming his dog Mint.

I stare at him. "Don't you want that?"

He shakes his head minutely. He is smiling.

"What else?" I ask .

He wets his lips. I wait in anticipation. I can see the dilemma and the decision before he says the words.

"You are not ready for it. . . yet."

He turns to the stove and picks a stock pot.

"Come on. Let me decide that."

We walk back to the living room.

He sets the pot and soup bowls.

The smell wafting out of the pot makes me sit down on the carpet and inhale it. "Is this pasta?"

He laughs.

It's as if he rediscovered laughter today. I don't mind it a bit.

"It's vegetable soup." He unwraps a bread bowl and serves the soup.

My bowl is chipped with a hairline crack running along the rim.

"Tell me, what do you want?"

He ignores me and starts sinking a chunk of bread in the soup.

"What about a dog? Mint seems lonely."

He raises his head and I can almost hear his mind voice. I am more lonely.

A stupid thought occurs. I disregard it.

"I want to get you something meaningful. I know you didn't want me to be Raymond. You removed the whole romance arc because of me. But you put those setbacks aside and gave your all and made a great film. Atlast I don't feel like an imposter in this industry. You did that."

Tony sighs. "I told you. Romance arc wouldn't have worked. I don't know from where you got this notion but I had no misgivings about you doing the role."

"I didn't laugh."

He laughs and swats at my arm. "You haven't changed a bit."

"What do you mean?"

"During The Star of Saturn movie shooting, you kept worrying about how you couldn't drive the motor boat. Not one person cared about it. But you didn't forgive yourself."

"Yeah. I still can't get on a boat."

He smiles. "Sea sickness is not a crime."

"But how did you know? Were you part of the production team?"

He nods. "I am very familiar with all your antics."

"I don't have antics!"

He grins. "Liar."

This Tony is different. Happy and free.

I don't mind watching him grin.

"Your soup is getting cold."

"Shouldn't we wait for others? Who are all coming?"

He frowns and stares at me. "Just us."

"Oh! Makes sense. Benny is going to Paris! Busy time for the team. This is a very short notice. Not that I mind this. This is good."

He nods and it is like a switch is turned off.

He doesn't smile again.

Not once.

He goes back to being grim. Whatever I speak seems to make him grimmer.

I give up and finish my dinner in silence and leave feeling like a fool.

What did I say?

***
Tony

Stupid. I am fucking stupid. It wasn't a date!

I made a fucking fool of myself.

Shit. I was laughing so much to hide my nervousness.

What did he think?

Did he figure out the misunderstanding and my fuck up assumption?

I hope not.

***

Walts

Nobody knows this.

I am obsessed with reviews of my movies.

That's all I do. My hobby.

Even when I was out of the limelight I would get on rating websites and read new reviews of my old movies.

So it is not a surprise I am obsessing over my new superhit movie reviews.

But I am doing it to forget my disaster dinner with Tony.

I hurt him. Somehow.

I also need to get him a gift.

So I am reading reviews to get a better perspective of him.

There are a hundred new comments on my fan page.

The top one blinds my eyes.

No wonder he broke up with Shirley. He is gay!

The person has tagged Shirley on the comment.

Fuck.

I lock my phone, scared to read the replies.

Why am I scared?

Shirley is my past. Past. What she thinks of me has no meaning to me.

Nothing.

My phone pings.

Shirley. She has sent a text.

"Congrats! I saw the movie. You owe me bigtime for making me the laughing stock."

I put the phone away.

She is not a nice person. It took me years to accept it. It took me a lot of time to understand that I did nothing wrong.

Her text is another proof that she is a selfish person. We broke up because she wanted to not because I stopped loving her. Not because I am bi. Not because —

I grab a magazine blindly to distract myself.

Oh.

It has a review! I forget Shirley in an instant.

I read the review once and then again.

I come back to the paragraph that strikes me hard.

This movie is a love letter written with the camera lens.  None of his other movies show Walts for who he is. If this is his first movie you watch (like me) you are going to fall in love with him. I watched this and queued up his old movies and watched them all.

No, those movies are not for him. I hated how his potential was lost in them.

It makes me wonder how Tony knew. How did he know to cast the perfect Raymond?

My romantic heart, which is very gay can't help but pray and hope Tony makes another movie and shows us Raymond's love life.

The two full page review is thorough and talks about other artists and technicians. But this particular part perfectly sums up my own thoughts.

This movie is a love letter. Tony's letter. Tony's appreciation of the character Raymond. Simple, boring Raymond and Tony's love for him.

It's a romance. Tony loves Raymond.

I wish I got to read the romance arc of the script. Reed is. . .

Right!

I ring him. "Do you still have the original script Tony gave you? With the love interest."

Reed sighs, "let it go. The movie is a superhit. You can't —"

"No. I just want to read it. Can you ask someone to drop it at my place?"

***

The script is binded and looks very old like a well loved book.

It's a huge book.

I read it.

When I finish, I can understand why Reed wanted me to do this role.

For one thing it is written in the casting notes.

But a better reason is, I am Raymond.

If I had been born on a farm I would have been Raymond.

And his love interest, it is a beautiful arc.

Two people finding each other in the middle of all the chaos of their life.

I sigh. I am literally deprived of experiencing this love.

How dare he?

I am thinking about our dinner again.

What did he want?

Why did he say I wasn't ready?

Why was he upset towards the end?

He was so happy and then he wasn't.

It must be something I did.

I have replayed my every word and every action from that night. I didn't do anything out of the ordinary.

I should talk to someone from the crew. Someone who knows him better. That AD! What was his name?

I sigh. If they had all come to the dinner this wouldn't have happened.

Why didn't they come?

Hmm.

Why none of them showed up?

Were they all out of town?

I text my makeup man. "Were you in town last week?"

He replies immediately. "Where else would I be?"

I do the same with two more technicians on the crew.

Finally I ring Benny. After some small talk I ask her, "did you talk with Tony after the release? I was telling him we should all meet for dinner sometime."

"That would be perfect! I will be there any day you want!"

I cut the call and try to make sense of it.

Tony didn't invite anyone else.

It was just him and I.

My face burns at the thought shaping up in my head.

Did he think it was a date?

Didn't I tell him to invite everyone?

How did this go this badly?

How stupid of me!

My heart goes haywire thinking about his smiles and laughs.

He was wearing a shirt!

He made dinner for me.

When I opened my stupid mouth and asked about others he realized we weren't on a date.

Oh man.

No wonder he stopped smiling.

I start pacing the room.

I need to fix this.

I can't let him know that I know.

Somehow I should make him laugh again.

What did he want?

My head feels weird.

It can't be. There's no way he is in love with me.

How can it be?

I sit down again and pick up the script. This time I read it with the knowledge that probably, maybe the scriptwriter was indeed in love with the main character.

The only color in the whole story of Raymond is his love. He was. . .

He was. . .

My eyes blur with tears. I loved Shirley like this.

I still want to love. It surprises me.

Shirley hasn't destroyed it.

The uncomfortable rush of emotions I felt whenever Tony did something personal makes a lots of sense. It was me trying to reciprocate his love.

I know that now.

Because I want to go out and find out where Tony is and ask him out.

Because I now know what he wanted to ask.

He wanted a kiss.

I will give him one.

***

Tony

We are seated on a stage. It is a live interview with questions from a public audience. I am sure some TV studio has the telecast right.

Reed, Walts and I are answering questions in a round robin. I can't concentrate though.

Walts looks stunning today. He must have woken up today and decided to show the world how brilliant he can be in the simplest of clothes.

He is wearing a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbow, a pair of pale blue jeans and a pair of pink slippers.

He hasn't cut his hair yet. He has tied his now longer than before hair in the most careless way possible. It's all over the place and absolutely gorgeous.

Reed is sitting in the middle giving me the best possible spot to stare at Walts.

I made our dinner awkward and I should apologize for that. I should also scrape up my courage and ask him out or let him go.

I am learning that life can become crazy busy once strangers start recognising your face in public.

"This question is for Tony." A teenager from the crowd says.

I nod.

"Why was there no romance in the movie? Were you worried? I was upset when I learnt you were gay. If gays can't take gay romance who will?"

I lean back on the chair and take a moment to absorb the question. "The movie was supposed to have romance. And to give credit to Reed, I had full freedom to do what I wanted. I removed the romance section when I knew Walts would be playing the lead role. It would have distracted the movie from the main theme which was Raymond's passion for his land."

Walts clear his throat. "No. He removed it because he thought I wouldn't do justice to gay romance."

He isn't going to leave this. Is he?

"I told you. That wasn't the reason."

Walts gets up from his chair. "I will prove it to you."

Reed laughs at him. "How?"

At the same time the teenager asks, "prove what? That straight guys can do gay roles?"

Walts doesn't answer them.

He walks over to me and smiles. "You shouldn't have doubted me, Tony."

I get up. "For the millionth time, I didn't doubt you."

"I am very good at romance."

"I know," I say and realize a room full of people can hear us. Thanks to the mikes clipped on our collars.

"No, you don't." He is smiling at me.

It is crazy. My body is going to combust any second now.

He places a hand on my shoulder. "When I like someone I do romance like it's my only business."

"I know."

"I don't know how you know so much about me and yet didn't know this one important thing."

I scowl at him. "What is it?"

"I am very slow. Next time you write a love letter, send it to me directly."

"What?"

"Tony, will you go out with me?"

"What?"

"I will take that as a yes." Walts grins and turns towards the audience. "Don't worry. I will convince him to take part two and Raymond will do nothing but kiss his partner."

"Absolutely not." I automatically reply.

Walts chuckles. "What will it take to convince you? I know!" He places his other hand on my cheek and I combust.

This man is kissing me!

In between the whirlwind of emotions I am very glad this is getting recorded.

I need a copy for my safekeeping.

I become unsteady on my feet when he deepens the kiss.

"This is a PR stunt!" The teenager cries from the crowd.

Poor kid doesn't know for Walts everything is a stunt. Everything is two hundred percent. He is putting his two hundred on me. I am going to get stunt after stunt like this.

I can't wait.

Reed calling for a cut sounds far away.

*** End ***