Offering her a wide smile, he stopped inches short of freedom. “Vika, you know I can’t tell you anything about what’s happening this season. But if you think your readers want to see me covered in mud”—he winked—“and we both know they do, then feel free to take a picture or two.”
He posed, presenting her with what he’d been told was his best side, and she got a couple of shots.
“I know you can’t tell me anything specific,” she said, checkingthe images, “but maybe you could describe the sixth season in three words?”
Tapping his chin, he furrowed his brow. Playacted deep thought for long moments.
“I know!” He brightened and turned a pleased grin on her. “Last. One. Ever. I hope that helps.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she studied him for a beat too long.
Then, confronted with the blinding gleam of her own innocent smile, he had to blink.
“I guess...” She trailed off, still smiling. “I guess I need to find one of the other actors to ask about how the show’s ending deviates from both E. Wade’s books and, of course, Homer’sAeneid. Aeneas ended up married to Dido in both those stories, but the show might have taken a different approach.”
Homer? What the fuck?
And Dido was long, looooong dead by the end of theAeneid. By the final page of the thirdGods of the Gatesbook, she was alive but decidedly no longer interested in Aeneas, although he supposed that could change if Wade ever released the last two books in the series.
Somewhere, Virgil was probably uttering Latin curses as he shifted in his grave, and by all rights, E. Wade should be side-eyeing Vika from her lavish compound in Hawaii.
He pinched his forehead with a thumb and forefinger, absently noting the dirt beneath his nails. Dammit,someoneneeded to correct such grievous misapprehensions.
“TheAeneidwasn’t—” Vika’s brows rose with his first words, and her phone was recording, and he saw the trick. Oh, yes, he saw it. “TheAeneidisn’t something I’ve read, sadly. I’m sure Homer is very talented, but I’m not much of a reader in general.”
Thelast bit, at least, had once been true. Before he’d discovered fanfic and audiobooks, he hadn’t read much besides his scripts, and he’d labored over those only until he’d learned them well enough to record them, loop the recording, and play the words back to himself over and over.
She tapped her screen, and her own recording ended. “Thank you, Marcus. It was kind of you to talk to me.”
“My pleasure, Vika. Good luck with your other interviews.” With a final flash of a vapid smile, he was finally inside the hotel and trudging toward the elevator.
After pressing the button for his floor, he leaned heavily against the wall and closed his eyes.
Soon, he was going to have to grapple with his persona. Where it chafed, how it had served him in the past, and how it served him still. Whether shedding it would be worth the consequences to his personal life and career.
But not today. Fuck, he was tired.
Back in his hotel room, the shower felt just as good as he’d hoped. Better.
Afterward, he powered on his laptop and ignored the scripts sent by his agent. Choosing his next project—one that would hopefully take his career in a new direction—could wait too, as could checking his Twitter and Instagram accounts.
The only thing that definitely needed to happen before he slept for a million years: sending a direct message to Unapologetic Lavinia Stan. Or Ulsie, as he’d begun calling her, to her complete disgust.Ulsie is a good name for a cow, andonlyfor a cow, she’d written. But she hadn’t told him to stop, and he hadn’t. The nickname, one he alone used, pleased him more than it should.
He logged on to the Lavineas server he’d helped create several years ago for the use of the lively, talented, ever-supportiveAeneas/Lavinia fanfic community. On AO3, he still occasionally dabbled in Aeneas/Dido fanfic, but less and less often these days. Especially once Ulsie had become the primary beta and proofreader for all Book!AeneasWouldNever’s stories.
She lived in California, and she’d still be at work. She wouldn’t be able to respond immediately to his messages. If he didn’t DM her tonight, though, he wouldn’t have her response first thing in the morning, and he needed that. More and more as each week passed.
Soon, so very soon, he and Ulsie would be back in the same time zone. The same state.
Not that proximity mattered, since they’d never meet in person.
Only it did matter. Somehow, it did.
Godsof the Gates(Book 1)
E. Wade
The Literary Tour de Force That Inspired a World-Famous TV Series
