A very big thank you to all of the readers who have taken the time to send kind messages for the first chapters of the story. I very much appreciate it. Please send any feedback, complaints, and correspondence to breakingthroughstory@gmail.com.
The usual disclaimers apply. This is fiction.
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Chapter 13
Armie loved driving. He felt free on the road, even when it was more stop-and-go than long, winding stretches of asphalt. He gripped the wheel with his hand and zoomed down Pacific Coast Highway, smiling when he saw the speedometer climb up. With so much of his life under the tightest schedules, it felt amazing to just cruise down the coast, with the ocean on one side, sun setting and painting the sky in bright orange. To show his appreciation for a key to The Castle, Chris had gifted Armie with a few hours at the Porsche test track just outside of L.A. That was real driving, Armie thought: no speed limits and cars built to hug the road. It was something he'd never forget. "There are miles to go before we're done," Chris had written in the card.
But now, as he drove down the eucalyptus-scented streets of Venice Beach, there was definitely a speed limit--25 miles per hour--and reason to keep his urges to push his Tesla to the limits under wraps. Chris was asleep in the passenger's seat. No matter how long or short the drive, he had the enviable ability to sleep in the car, something Armie could hardly comprehend, especially since coffee basically ran through his veins. He reached over and held Chris' hand, hoping that the touch would be enough to wake Chris up, but he had no such luck.
"Almost home," Armie said, running his hands up Chris' forearm. "You with me?"
"Are the movers still working?" Chris said, his voice gravely.
"Nope," Armie said as he pulled into the driveway. Chris' car, which took up the only spot in the carport, was covered in a thin layer of dust and leaves. Armie made a mental note to get it washed.
"That's good news," Chris said, straightening himself in the car seat. He looked over at Armie, his strong jaw and the hints of gold in his hair enhanced by the light coming through the driver's-side window and smiled. "You're so brown."
"That's what happens when you fall asleep at the pool," Armie said, shutting off the car. Chris went around to grab their suitcases from the trunk and Armie helped him carry them to the front door, carefully treading on the gravel driveway. "Home sweet home," he said. It was the very first day he could call the house his home. They'd spent the weekend in Palm Springs, partly to promote the film at the city's film festival and partly to have professional movers bring most of Armie's things to the house that they were now sharing. The entire weekend, Chris talked about Armie giving up his huge house, his family's house, but Armie didn't see it that way. He was starting over, he said. He wouldn't miss the house. He'd miss out on more if he stayed there, he insisted. Chris was still trying to believe it.
"Oh man," Chris said as he walked into the house. The movers had filled the entryway and living room with boxes. "I thought you said you were just bringing your clothes." Armie's brother, Viktor, was moving into The Castle with his fiancee. Armie left all the furniture there for the two of them, whether they wanted it or not.
"Don't exaggerate," Armie said, already walking past the mess and heading upstairs with their bags. "It's not that much."
"I'll start opening these boxes," Chris said, already overwhelmed. He tore open one of the boxes, which really was just clothes. It was almost voyeuristic, Chris thought. Opening another revealed shoes. Another looked like the contents of Armie's bathroom cabinets. Clothes. More clothes.
Thinking back to the day at his old place where Chris told him about what had transpired with Jake, the same night that he asked Chris if they could live together, Armie should have expected some trepidation. From everything he'd learned about Chris, he could tell there was an independent streak under the nervousness and shy demeanor. It was obvious, though, that there was a clear dependence on Jake once he entered the picture. That was a long time ago, Armie had to remind himself, and Chris had done some growing up. He was in his 20s when he met Jake. The thought of that alone was enough to give Armie pause. There was no wonder he was taking everything so slow this time. Mistakes were made all around. Chris was doing his best to learn from them, not repeat them.
Chris' upstairs closet had more than enough room for Armie's things. Slowly, the two of them moved the boxes upstairs, Armie sharing a few stories about how most of his clothes were taken from sets, how hard it was for him to find things that actually fit, and how devastating it was for him to have to send back his suits and tuxedos after big events. His stylist, who Chris had met on a few occasions, helped Armie with his everyday clothes, too. Chris found out that the polish and leading-man presentation was manufactured, but it had more to do with Armie's laziness when it came to shopping than about impressing people. He couldn't be bothered to actually shop for himself and his management team preferred that he look kempt. It was worth keeping a big-name stylist on retainer.
Armie hadn't spent much time in Chris' walk-in. He had a drawer, which expanded to two pretty quickly when things got serious, but he was mostly in and out of the space. Chris kept things organized, which wasn't surprising. Adding his things to one side, Armie straightened a few of Chris' shoes. He slid open a drawer and didn't find anything out of the ordinary. Armie's brow furrowed when he saw a small wooden box in Chris' underwear drawer and he blinked a few times when he opened it to see Chris' wedding band nestled inside. It was scratched and dull, but heavy in Armie's hand. He remembered seeing Chris wear it on a long necklace, something that didn't even show under his shirts, but couldn't recall the last time Chris was wearing it. It had either been a very long time or Armie had just decided to block it from is memory. He slipped the box back where he found it and inspected his side of the closet. For now, it would do.
"Everything fit in?" Chris asked as he was fiddling with his phone. He'd been sitting in the bedroom armchair, just a few steps away from the closet door.
"All good," Armie said, leaning down to kiss the top of Chris' head. "I thought you were napping, but then I remembered you did that in the car."
"I put your books on the bookcase downstairs," Chris said. "And some of your other stuff in the office."
"Appreciate it," Armie said as he flopped down on the bed. "Are you worried?"
"When I get sick of you, I'll just drown myself in the canal," Chris joked.
"Then, I'll start a podcast about your tragic, gone-too-soon story."
"Perfect plan," Chris said, finally setting his phone down and getting on the bed with Armie. He snuggled up next to Armie, wrapping an arm around his chest and fitting their bodies together. "So far so good."
Living together wasn't hard for either of them. Armie had spent so much time at the house that the transition wasn't a transition at all. Chris couldn't remember how it was when he'd moved in with Jake, but there was the faint inclination that it was more of a tectonic shift. Just a few days after the boxes had been unpacked, Chris bounded up the stairs to find an open suitcase on the bedroom floor.
"Did Ilaria drop something off?" Chris asked, confused. Ahead of an event, Armie's stylist, Ilaria, usually sent over clothes for him to wear. Chris had seen rolling racks and lots of shoes strewn around Armie's bedroom back at The Castle.
"We're going to Utah tomorrow," Armie said, nonplussed. He was flipping through a binder that came along with the clothes, showing exactly what went with what for each event on Armie's schedule. "Sundance."
Chris sat down on the bed, making sure he didn't miss anything on his own itinerary. He tapped at his phone and glanced at his email. Nothing. He remembered the film-festival circuit with Jake: long hours at the hotel by himself while Jake had promotional events. It was worse if Jake was on the judging panel. Then, at night, after Chris had spent the day wandering a new city by himself or eating room service alone, they'd go to parties where he felt out of place. It was too much jammed into a weekend and it was definitely not anyone normal's idea of fun. It was work, all dressed up to look like a nonstop party, but it was hard work.
Just the week before, in Palm Springs, Chris had spent most of his time at the pool while Armie worked for most of the day. Some people would see it as paradise, Chris figured he could have done something similar at home.
"I'm not going," he said, relieved.
"Stop. Of course you are, you're my plus one."
"I'm actually not. I don't want to and I'm not scheduled to."
Armie stopped his shuffling and sat down on the floor, surrounded by plastic garment bags. "I don't understand."
"You go. I stay home. What's not to understand?"
"Why are you fighting me on this? I want you there."
"We're not fighting."
"What is this, then?"
"A scheduling conflict? Work-life un-balance? I don't know what you want me to say."
"I want you to be excited about going to the Sundance Film Festival with your boyfriend."
Chris paused, looking at Armie's sad blue eyes combined with his look of confusion. Who wouldn't want to go to the Sundance Film Festival? Armie couldn't imagine anyone who would pass up a chance like this. "Can you call Debbie and get me a plane ticket? Is it too late?" Debbie, Armie's agent, didn't care so much for their relationship and all the baggage that came with it. Chris didn't want to push it with her. If Armie wanted him to go, he'd have to do some legwork.
"We're flying private. There's room for you."
"I should pack then," Chris said, getting up off the bed.
Armie reached for his hand and pulled him down to the floor as he walked by. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Ask me on Sunday."
Armie rolled over on top of Chris, ignoring the suits and sweaters on the floor. Pinning him down on the carpet, Armie looked triumphant. "What's going on? We're on the same team here."
"I know. I'm sorry," Chris said. "I felt left out, I guess." He hoped Armie would believe that little lie.
"I doubt anyone anywhere wouldn't want you around." He leaned down and gave Chris a kiss. "I wouldn't be able to be away from you all weekend."
"Will you pack for me?"
"My pleasure."
Chris wasn't entirely wrong yet. After landing in Salt Lake City, Armie and Chris said their goodbyes to the team from the movie, who shared the tiny, but luxurious, plane from LAX. True to form, Chris fell asleep in the chartered car, making the half-hour drive a particularly quiet one for Armie. "Remember in Palm Springs, how we hiked out and saw the stars at night?" Armie asked as they walked through the hotel.
"And how you didn't know where any of the constellations were? I remember that very clearly."
"You were just pointing and naming astrology words," Armie said. "And then you had an app. It wasn't exactly stargazing."
Chris slid his key card into the door and stepped into the room. "What did you do?"
"I wanted to let you know I appreciated you coming along," Armie said, his hands on Chris' shoulders. "Enjoy yourself."
The suite's dining room table had been set with a small cake beside all of the credentials that Chris and Armie would need over the weekend. Chris walked over and noticed a little box alongside it all. It wasn't a huge, grand gesture, but it was enough to make him simultaneously smile and chide Armie for going overboard.
"Chocolate with white icing. I know what you like," Armie said as he swiped at the cake with his finger. Chris licked the white buttercream off Armie's finger and kissed him square on the lips.
"I'm just going to stay in this room and eat cake all weekend," Chris said. He rifled through the lanyards and credentials, ignoring what he knew Armie was waiting for him to open on purpose.
"I could think of worse ways to spend a weekend," Armie said. His arms were wrapped around Chris' waist and he set his chin on Chris' shoulder, rocking their bodies together. "Open it. Stop teasing me."
"Hold on," Chris said as he took a closer look at their schedules. "You only have one thing tomorrow? And the day off tomorrow?"
"Yeah, did you think I'd really ignore you all weekend?"
He really did, but he didn't say it out loud. Armie had clearly gone out of his way to make this more of a weekend getaway than a work trip. "I didn't know what to expect."
Chris reached for the box and opened it up quicker than he should have. "Armie," Chris said, his voice quiet. "This is a lot."
"It's from the year you were born. Real-life vintage," Armie explained, taking the watch out of the box and slipping it onto Chris' wrist. "It took me so long to track down the right one." At a loss for words himself, Chris let Armie's sink in instead. "My dad helped. He knows a guy."
"This is a lot," Chris reiterated.
"It was supposed to be for our anniversary," Armie said. "But you shot that down and shoved pizza in your face that night."
"I'm sorry," Chris said. "I had no idea."
"You got it now. That's what matters."
"Thank you," Chris said. "I really mean that. It means a lot that you'd think of something like this."
"I love you," Armie said. "As stubborn as you are."
"I love you. Really love you," Chris said, turning around and burying his face in Armie's chest.
"We have one thing to go to tonight," Armie said. "So we should both get changed."
Chris held tight to Armie's body as long as he could. The world could wait a few more minutes.
By the time they made it to the ballroom of their own hotel, Armie had changed into outfit number one, pants with a subtle plaid pattern, a white button-up that showed the perfect amount of chest hair with the top two buttons undone and a navy blue blazer with bold, bright gold buttons. Chris felt inadequate in his comparably boring all-black outfit. It was the opening night reception and Chris vaguely recognized a few people, but he couldn't really place them. All the other times he went to these events, people were looking to speak to Jake, not him. As much as the film industry had embraced him, it was quick to forget after his projects never seemed to pick up any sort of acclaim. Beginner's luck, Chris figured.
"I see snacks," Armie whispered into Chris' ear as they posed for a photo together. Armie held Chris' hand--it was his favorite pose for the cameras--and joked with the photographers, using his go-to line, asking if they wanted a prom pose or a silly one to go alongside the serious pictures. None of them ever responded and most were shocked that anyone would even talk to them. Chris made it a habit to shake their hands after. Even back with Jake, Chris found that it was more likely that they'd delete any unflattering photos if he was nice to them.
"I'll get us something to drink," Chris said as soon as they finished at the step-and-repeat. Armie kissed him on the cheek and gave his shoulder a squeeze. Chris wove his way through the crowd, and confirmed the fact that he couldn't recognize anyone. "One beer, whatever you have in a bottle, and a seltzer water with two limes," Chris said as soon as he got to the bar. He reached for his back pocket, but stopped when he felt a hand on his lower back.
"It's nice to see you," Jake said.
"You startled me," Chris said, frozen. Time stopped. He felt it as he scanned Jake, wanting to make sure that he was actually there. This could all be a dream, after all. It felt like an eternity, Jake's brown eyes looking into his, the scent of Jake's cologne lingering in the air and the two of them so close together. Finally, Chris snapped out of it, landing firmly back in the current reality. He reached for his wallet, pulled out a five-dollar bill, and handed it to the bartender. It wasn't until then that he acknowledged Jake.
"I saw your name on the panel," Chris said. "Is that a permanent position now?"
"Yeah, honorary. Are you here with Armie?" Straight to the point.
"Yes," Chris said simply. "You shaved."
Jake noticed a glint at Chris' wrist. Jake rubbed at his jaw and cheek. "I know you hate it like this. But it was...I don't know. I just started shaving and this is what happened."
"I don't hate it," Chris said. Armie didn't any rhyme or reason to his own facial hair, so Chris was still getting accustomed to a fully bearded face one day, a stubbly one the next and a totally smooth shave another day.
"You always liked it better when I had a beard," Jake clarified. "I should apologize for what happened. I can't expect you to feel the same way I do."
"You mean a lot to me," Chris said, noticing the sadness in Jake's words. "I honestly thought you were done with me...with us."
"I thought I was," Jake said. "But I was wrong."
"I read that you were seeing an architect," Chris said. He was immediately embarrassed. He'd basically admitted to reading tabloids. "And Maggie told me," he added, hoping it would redeem him.
"She set us up," Jake said. He turned to the bartender to retrieve his own drink. Jake scanned the room, hoping to be able to change the subject. "Armie's looking for you."
"I should get over there," Chris said, looking over his shoulder. Jake was right. Armie, his head well above everyone else's, was looking around for something or someone.
"Hold on," Jake said, reaching out to grab Chris' forearm. He hesitated for a second. Chris didn't want to make a scene, but he wasn't sure staying right there was a great idea. "Does he make you happy? That's important. For you and for me."
"Very much," Chris said. He paused for a second before adding, "I haven't been this happy in a long time. I love you, Jake. But you said it: we don't work anymore."
"Found you," Armie said as he approached the two of them. He put an arm around Chris' shoulders and took the beer from his hand. "Jake, what's up?"
"Good luck," Jake said. "I finally got a chance to see the movie. It's really great."
"That means a lot," Chris interjected. He reached out and grabbed Jake's hand. "I know it couldn't have been easy for you to see."
"Definitely not," Jake said. Armie watched as Chris seemed to soften, like a wave of relief had washed over him. "But seeing it made things pretty clear."
"It's a movie," Chris said. "A book. A movie. It wasn't exactly..."
"You don't have to explain," Jake said. "I get it."
"I'm glad you liked it," Armie said, reaching out with free hand. Chris looked on as they shook hands. "We're very proud of it."
"You two have a good night," Jake said, raising his cocktail to the both of them. "Excellent work."
"That could have gone a lot worse," Chris said as they worked their way back into the crowd.
"He'll always be a part of your life. That makes him part of mine now, too," Armie said. "And yeah, that could have been a lot, lot worse."
"Don't exaggerate," Chris said before taking a glug of his carbonated water. "I don't expect you two to be best friends."
Armie led them to the edge of the party, where it was quieter. Far away from the snacks, Chris noticed. He sat down on a settee and Armie joined him, both of them feeling a little lighter after the conversation had settled in their minds. "You smell really good," Chris said, leaning into Armie's neck. His hand rubbed Armie's bicep through his jacket. "And you're so handsome."
"You're making me blush," Armie said, because he really was. "Do you think we've done our due diligence down here?"
"No, not at all."
"Do you want to leave?"
"More than anything."
"Let's go. There's cake waiting for us."
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