The best part of having a coffee shop as one of the sets is getting unlimited coffee for the entire day. I’ve just finished up a few takes with Matt. A scene where we sit and try to work on our novel. Instead, we end up having a real conversation for the first time. The typical getting to know you scene, with flirtatious glances and building chemistry. I never would’ve thought, not for a second, that Mattie struggles with shame for being gay. He’s a better actor than I gave him credit for.
We’re waiting for Dave to finish an impromptu business meeting with Reynolds. If Reynolds has come and not one of the other lower ranking studio execs, something’s up. I can see them outside, through the coffee shop’s glass wall. They’re arguing. No idea about what. Could be the fact that I’m still attached to the film, could be that the publicity is waning again, could be the lighting. Sound said something about an issue with our mics and sent someone over to take them off, so it feels like a real break without having to worry about someone listening in.
Matt isn’t as awkward with me today. He doesn’t look like a scared puppy, anyway. Maybe he’s getting used to me. He feels my stare from across the small table we share and looks up from his phone. He offers a smile.
“My sister’s sending me links on Twitter,” he says. “Looks like we’re trending.”
He turns the screen around as proof. Yep. Dave’s let the rumor drop to BuzzFeed as an “unknown source” on set, and from the top few posts, I can see that people are arguing over whether we’re really dating or not. Some people are mad at the insinuation that two queer guys can’t breathe the same air without wanting to fuck. Others are mad at the people who are mad for suggesting there’d be something wrong with us falling in love.
I take a sip of my coffee. “Instant headache.”
He laughs. “Yeah. I usually don’t pay attention to this kind of thing, but a part of me wants to see if”—he lowers his voice and glances around—“you know, it’s working.”
The coffee shop door opens and Dave walks in. He drags over a chair and drops into his seat beside us.
“Lay it on us,” I say. “Who’s getting fired?”
Matt’s startled expression is funny.
Dave rolls his eyes. He isn’t in the mood today. “We’ve got competition. Phillip Desmond is starring in a gay romance. Some shit about dogwalkers, I don’t know. It was just announced last night. Inside sources tell us that the production schedule is tight.” Inside sources. We always manage to make filmmaking sound like some sort of FBI operation. “They’re trying to beat us to opening. Profit off our buzz and excitement. Reynolds wants us to move up the production schedule.”
“Longer days?” I ask.
“No. Fewer takes.”
It’s risky, quality-wise, but I understand. Longer days and going into overtime with this cast could mean another hundred million.
“We need you—everyone—to be more on top of things.” Dave glances at Matt, who swallows with a nod. Dave taps the table as he stands back up, then hesitates. “Oh,” he says, “you two should probably announce that you’re official today.”
He leaves. Matt’s eyebrows are comically high when he meets my gaze.
“Just moving the schedule up by a few days,” I say with a shrug. It’s a smart move. The announcement will steal the thunder from this other movie, whatever it’s called, and make people focus on us again. It might be a little obvious to anyone paying enough attention. But that doesn’t really matter in the end. As long as they don’t have any proof that this relationship is total bullshit.
Dave immediately shifts into the new frame of mind of moving scenes along more quickly, and after we have our replacement mics, we’re finished after a few takes. The rest of the day will be for the scene with Scott’s and Keith’s characters as they stand in line for coffee, talking about Quinn behind his back—he takes himself too seriously, maybe someone like Riley will get him to loosen up, etc. One of the coffee shop’s real baristas is there, incredibly excited to be an extra. They grab me another cup without having to ask for my order, and I blink at Matt when he ends up beside me.
“All black?” he says.
“Do you even drink coffee?”
“Sure. Caramel cappuccinos are my favorite.”
I stare at him blankly, not sure if he’s joking. He has that same cheerful expression on his face. Is he trying to give me the impression that he’s happy to be around me now? Or is he seriously always this fucking happy?
I turn away from him, waiting for the order, and lower my voice. “Maybe we should make ourselves official in an unexpected way. Grab more attention for the spotlight.” I’ve had practice at this.
“How so?”
“You’ll end up posting to social inevitably, but we could have some fun with the paparazzi first.”
I thank the barista when they hand me my coffee, and Matt and I head out of the shop. We’re still in wardrobe, but at least it’s more comfortable than the other outfits I’ve had to wear. I’m in sweatpants and a white t-shirt, giving off the vibes that I don’t give a fuck. Which is, you know, accurate. Mattie’s in jeans and a pink t-shirt, sneakers. The street’s closed off, but there are plenty of curious onlookers from beyond the barricades. Most of them are probably tourists. Not many people in LA blink twice when they see filming for yet another movie. I notice some paparazzi and reporters chatting with publicity assistants. I give a half shrug at Mattie and offer my hand. He hesitates, but only for a second, before he takes it. I even go the extra mile and intertwine fingers.
“What the fuck do you use on your hands?” I ask. “Baby powder?”
“It’s called lotion, Gray.”
It’s surprisingly comfortable, holding hands with him. Usually, I get itchy when any part of me feels trapped, but his hand is loose in mine, swinging a little, casual—like we really are boyfriends who wouldn’t think about it twice. We walk past the line of trailers. I’m not sure if I’m just imagining the hush that falls on set, or the excited whispers from the people watching behind the barricades. He bumps my shoulder with his own and looks up at me with this smile. My heart stutters. Just a little. He really is good at letting that happiness joy love thing radiate from his eyes.
No one’s ever looked at me like that before. I freeze for a second, my head as empty as my expression. I forget, for that split second, that it’s only an act.
His smile fades with the tilt of his head. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Sure.” I take a sip of my coffee. “We probably got the shot.”