While he was in the shower, I made French toast and bacon for breakfast because I didn’t think he’d eaten breakfast yesterday, and I kept remembering feeling his ribs last night.
It had been a long time since I’d had someone to cook breakfast for, and I got out the good syrup, the stuff Bexley’s uncle made from the trees in his back forty.
He came out of the bathroom dressed, with his hair still wet.
“Come and eat,” I said.
He looked hesitant, the same way he had when he’d helped himself to my leftovers last night, like he wasn’t used to accepting things from people.
“You have to eat,” I said.
“They give us lunch at work.”
“Only lunch?”
He shrugged, like skipping meals wasn’t a big deal.
“I don’t want you to go hungry.”
He looked at me and said, “Thanks.”
I decided right then that he’d never miss another meal while he was with me.
I noticed he was wearing his ripped clothes.
“Am I dressed okay?”I asked.
“Sure.They’re not filming you.”
“They don’t mind what you wear?”
“They give me stuff to wear.”
He cleared his plate pretty fast.I asked him if he wanted more, but he said he didn’t, and I didn’t push him.
On our way there, he said, “I’ll warn you: watching people make a film is boring.If you get too bored, you can leave.”
“I don’t think I’ll be bored.”
I didn’t know what I’d expected the set of an indie movie to look like, but I was underwhelmed.When he’d said “low-budget,” I didn’t anticipate how low-budget.
They were filming in a house in a sketchy part of the city.They were in one big room with a couch that had stuffing coming out of it.He introduced me to the people there and then went to get me a chair.Then he went off to get changed.Nobody paid any attention to me.Except this one guy.And I recognized him.He’d played the drug dealer inWanton Town.Edgar.I could tell from his expression and the way he walked that he thought he was hot shit.I caught him looking at me appraisingly.I’d never been checked out by a guy before.I almost gave him the finger, but I didn’t want to get Eddie in trouble.
Then Eddie came in wearing a brown leather jacket and jeans and a T-shirt without any rips.Then they started filming.And what they were filming was him and Edgar making out on the couch in front of me.Watching him do it on TV was one thing.Watching him actually doing it in front of me upset the shit out of me.I tried to logic myself through it.If Bexley was in a movie, and he was making out with this guy, would it bother me?Actually, yeah, it would, because that guy was an asshole, and Bexley wasn’t an actor, and he wouldn’t be in that situation to begin with.But it wouldn’t bother me on the level thatthiswas bothering me, like my guts were tied in granny knots pulling tighter and tighter until it hurt.
I felt like getting up and leaving would be giving up.I’d competed in a dance contest after breaking my toe in the previous round.When I really wanted something, I didn’t quit.And I really wanted him.
What made it bearable was that the director kept cutting and making them reposition.
“Stop what you’re doing with your arm, Eddie,” he said.“It’s blocking your head.”
He and Edgar would stop making out, the energy between them would shut off instantly, and Eddie would pull back from the other guy.Once, Eddie winked at me.
A few times, the director put his hands on Eddie to move him.When he did it to Edgar, he acted super compliant, going soft under his hand and doing whatever the director wanted.
They kept doing more takes.Filming took four hours.Four hours of me watching them make out.
When they were done, he got up off the couch and went up to me.
