Page 16 of In Frame
Colby talked about the courage of happy endings, and the ability to believe in them. He smiled at Jason as he said it.
Leo might’ve been looking out at the crowd, during that answer. Might’ve been looking Sam’s way. Might’ve been.
Someone asked a two-part question, teasing and serious, about Jason getting into shape for this role: both the musclesand the emotions, particularly when they’d had to film Colby’s near-death scene. Jason laughed, joked about lifting a lot of heavy things, and then turned serious as well: admitting that it had been difficult, being newly in love with Colby, getting lost in both Stephen’s and his own protectiveness. He was truthful, big and earnest, open-hearted; a sigh rippled through the audience.
The last question involved what they’d all take away with them from this film, from the experience. Jillian and Andy talked about directing, bringing this story to life, the almost magical camaraderie; they both praised their cast and crew. Colby Kent, beautiful and articulate, answered that he’d learned about courage: about not being afraid to love, and to want that love, even if it hurt.
Jason said to him, “I love you.” More sighs and coos bounced off old-fashioned walls. Sam found himself smiling; the two of them were sappy and romantic and cheesy as hell, sure, but they were honest about their emotion. Not an act. Spontaneous and affectionate: they justwerethat way, as a couple. In words, in touches, in glances and smiles.
Jason’s answer started with, “This film gave me you,” and everybody watching saw Colby Kent melt into a puddle of utter adoration. Jason went on to give one of the best answers Sam’d ever heard about storytelling and inspiration and the way that any movie, every movie, could matter to someone, whether a groundbreaking historical gay romance or an explosion-laced action blockbuster. Important, all of it. Worth loving. This film had reminded him of that: loving what they did.
Colby ran over and flung arms around Jason and delivered a kiss. Everyone cheered, with a tinge of amazement: Colby Kent not only touching people but doing so without thinking, obviously wanting to, instinctive.
Colby sat back down, post-kissing. And then it was Leo’s turn to answer.
Sam realized he was sitting forward. Leaning into the anticipation. Trying to see Leo’s eyes, the way that expressive mouth shaped words, the tilt of that head.
He made himself lean back.
Then he leaned forward again anyway.
Leo, perched on a visibly uncomfortable wooden stool on stage, paused before answering, as if sorting out words. “Friendship, I’d say. What Jillian said. The people I’ve met, on this production…people who’re such good people. Who care. Who I’ll stay friends with, after.” He glanced down the line of co-stars, then out at the audience of critics and fans.
And Sam held his breath. Because he could’ve sworn that Leo was looking at him, finding him, in that second. No distance between them. None at all, for that instant.
“People,” Leo finished, “I can be myself with. That’s so rare. And so important.” Unusually for Leo Whyte, his tone was quiet, reflective, personal.
Sam, listening, wanted to kiss him. To take his hand and soothe away every old wound, every time Leo hadn’t been himself, had covered up isolation with practical or verbal jokes. To say,yes, please be yourself with me, I want to know you, you’ll be safe…
He couldn’t promise that. Not with the weight of his job around his neck. A chain, choking off the possibility of that kiss.
“And also,” Leo finished, tone flipping back to airy—to what everyone expected, Sam thought—and eyes all big and mock-innocent, “Colby makes the world’s best coffee cake. So I’m dropping by for brunch and taking some of that home with me tomorrow, thanks, Colby.”
“Tomorrow?” Colby echoed, playing along. “Well, yes, fine…but call or text before you come round.”
“Why?”
“Would you like me to explain it to you? When two peoplelove each other very much…”
“Oh, God,” Leo interrupted, persona squarely in place, winsome English accent making every word funnier somehow, “just make sure you’ve put on clothing this time before you open the door.” The whole theatre cracked up. Merriment among the critics and the gold-leaf walls.
Because Leo did that. Leo made the world laugh. The right word, the right timing.
Leo Whyte was a better actor than anyone knew. The person who’d flinched away from being called good, who’d been so dismissive of his own generosity…
That person wasn’t on display. Luminous sparkles all intact. No cracks to be found. All sprinkles and whipped-cream toppings securely in place on that sundae.
Sam’s hands remembered the way Leo’d felt, melting into him, against him. Sam’s mouth recalled the sensation of Leo’s: not scared or inexperienced at kissing as such, but new to this with another man, and eager but almost shy, wanting more but so unused to being so wanted. A paradox: confetti exuberance atop shadows of self-dismissal. A mystery, a layered excavation, an exhilaration worth working for.
He did want more. He wanted more of Leo.
He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Worlds apart. Whole galaxies. Universes. Expanding all the time.
“You think I’m joking,” Leo concluded, playing out the teasing to the end, “but you didn’t knock on their door that time in Italy!” and looked over to Sir Laurence: handing off the final answer.
Sir Laurence smiled at everyone. Began by, as expected, praising fellow cast, directors, the story. Then Colby and Jason in particular. Then talking about courage and sexuality, in that old-fashioned legend’s voice. Everyone listening nodded: good words, from a good ally, especially coming from a representativeof an older knightly generation with a powerful voice.
At this point Sir Laurence calmly added, “I’d’ve loved to have had that. To have the chance, or the choice, for that freedom, if we’d wanted to. For instance, well, it was rather an open secret on set all those decades ago, but nevertheless I’d’ve never said outright that I was in love with Alec Flynn and he with me, much less admitted to anyone that we’d moved in together. But of course we were and we did. And it was wonderful.”
