“Why, because he’s a feminine guy too?”
“Babe, he’s transgender.”
“Oh.” Arnaud blinked then put his hand over his mouth, his long fingers splayed over his thin lips. “You are a steel trap sometimes.”
“Eh?” Reno’s eyes widened. “Sorry.”
“No, no. It’s good. It’s not really my place to know or yours to tell without him saying it's okay.”
“You’re my best friend.” Reno pouted. “I tell you everything. He also has the trans symbol tattooed on his chest. It's not like it’s a big secret. I think he’s proud of it, similar to how I’m proudof thestylistwalking up behind me withbeautiful dressesin hand! Oh, Andi, your team has outdone themselves once again.” Reno pushed out of his seat and went to admire the rack of clothing Andi had wheeled over.
She smiled and said, “Feel free to pick whatever you want.” Then she left to get Arnaud’s rack, too.
While she was gone putting together options for Arnaud, he leaned in and whispered to Reno, “I love you.”
“Je t’aime encore?7,” Reno sighed, pulling a pink and white layered dress off the rack. “Luka will be my most important, you know.”
“Amelia is mine.” Arnaud looked so fond for a moment that it almost shattered Reno’s heart. “Your love is capable.”
“The way you think of love is so complex, it makes me look at myself harder.”
“Good.” Arnaud flicked through a few of the dresses, pulled out a pink and black one, and took the pink and white one away from Reno to put back. “Think of how your heart feels differently from one person to the next, observe that. No two relationships are the same.” He switched to French as Andi returned with his outfits, “You and I are one thing, you and him are another. I do not understand the romance, the fairytale, but I want it for you. I see you being happy.”
“So, we are good?”
Arnaud nodded and turned his attention to Andi. “Oh, let me see the one with blue accents.”
“Of course, Zana.” Andi was looking between them, and Reno turned away after setting the black and pink dress to the side for the makeup artist to draw inspiration from. When he looked in the mirror, he found his cheeks a bit pinker than he’d like, but the acceptance from Arnaud filled him to the brim. He focused on getting his contacts in before he started crying; then if themakeup artist noticed his eyes were red-rimmed, he could blame the contacts.
The first shoot went on for hours and Reno was grateful when they brought in a vegetable tray and some sparkling water. Arnaud and he relaxed on the small couch to the side of the studio set for a while, sharing food and leaning on each other. Reno spotted a few camera phones pointed at them as they curled up together in their dresses, and knew the behind-the-scenes images were likely to go viral. They always did whenever Arnaud and he were together like this, and even more so when they both looked this dolled up.
“What about an open relationship?” Arnaud said in French under his breath and Reno tracked every camera in the room.
“Non?8,” Reno replied, his lips barely moving. He and Arnaud had had too much practice having serious conversations together in public over the whole decade of their fame. “He doesn’t want that.”
“You finally asked?”
Reno nodded, just enough for Arnaud to notice.
“Does he trust you?”
“Ie. Shoganai, mada?9.”
Arnaud tilted his head.
“No," Reno clarified, “not yet.”
“Je comprends ça?10,” Arnaud sighed. “What about after?”
“Maybe. I won’t push. His last ex pushed. I won’t be that.”
Arnaud nodded and reached out with his hand to wipe at something by Reno’s lip. Reno heard a camera shutter and tried not to frown. “Je suis désolé?11.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I still sympathize.” Arnaud located a napkin to the side to wipe his fingers on.
“The set is ready." The photographer came by, the camera in his hand looking heavy with its expensive lens. “You both doing okay?”
