Page 46 of If the World Was Ending

“You’ve mentioned her a lot,” Hunter said, and hoped it sounded casual. “You guys like working with her?”

“Yeah. She’s been super supportive since we did that show with her in the Valley right after you left,” Colby explained. “And then she pushed for us to open a couple of the California shows, which got us the record deal. She’s pretty fucking great actually. We owe her a lot.”

It felt like a personal attack, which was ridiculous. Colby was allowed to praise whoever he wanted. And Hunter knew it was a good thing to have other musicians who supported him and the band. He’d found himself on this movie. There were Mikayla and also Chris Westchester, who played his dad in the movie. When his mom found out that Chris Westchester was in the movie, she turned into a fourteen-year-old girl. Chris had been a teen heartthrob in the late eighties and apparently every Gen X girl’s first crush, including young Catherine Gibson. Hunter was happy to report that he was a genuine guy, very humble and friendly, and a great scene partner. Chris had even signed a script for his mom that he was going to surprise her with. Hunter had been very vocal with Colby about how well he was getting along with his costars, and Colby gushing about Hannah every now and then was the same thing, Hunter tried to convince himself. But still. Rational thoughts weren’t his friend right now.

“She’s pretty,” Hunter muttered. “And her music is decent.”

“Yeah. She doesn’t write all her own stuff, but she does play guitar. And drums. I can’t drum, but she’s offered to give me tips,” Colby sounded absolutely delighted.

“Kenner drums. You don’t need to.”

“Yeah, but I’d love to learn for the future. It’d be cool. Drummers are bad ass.”

“You’re doing fine in the bad-ass department, especially with the haircut,” Hunter muttered, and Colby grinned.

“You really like it?” Colby ran a hand over his head again as Hunter nodded.

He took a screenshot, which was stupid, but he couldn’t resist. He wanted to be able to look at Colby and his new hair whenever he wanted. Then he glanced at the industrial-type clock on the kitchen wall of the rental he was itching to get out of. Although that itch to flee wasn’t as strong as before Colby’s call. The idea of going home to their apartment and finding it empty was depressing. “I have to go. The car is going to be here in ten minutes to drive me to set.”

“You have a driver? So, freaking cool.”

“Yeah.” Hunter tried to smile. “Keep in touch, eh? When you’re in New York.”

“Of course!” Colby said his pretty face twisting like that was the most ridiculous request he’d ever heard. “Always.”

“Gotta go.”

“Have a great night filming, movie star.”

“Shut up, rock star.” Hunter laughed, it was weak, but genuine. “Bye, Colb.”

“Bye, Hunter.”

They both stared at each other without hanging up for a weirdly charged moment, and then Hunter finally forced himself to press end so he wouldn’t be late to set.

Two days later, at seven-fifty-four at night, the director, Eugenie Poulin, yelled cut for the last time. Hunter’s body swirled with warring emotions —pride, relief, sadness, panic. Always panic. Was he good enough? Would Eugenie get into the editing room and hate every take he’d done? Would she regret hiring him? Would the movie bomb? Would it succeed, but people would slam him for being the weak link?

He tried to ignore all those rampant thoughts and concentrate on the crew as they clapped and cheered. He managed to make his own hands clap too, despite the vortex of uncertainty inside him. Mikayla ran over and hurled herself at him. Hunter braced just in time and managed to stay upright as she hugged him like a high koala bear. His hands had no choice but to go under her ass to steady her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She squealed in his ear. “We fucking did it, baby!”

“We did!” He laughed, feeling moderately better.

“You all did me so proud,” Eugenie announced as Mikayla unhooked herself from Hunter and put her feet on the ground, but kept her arm around his shoulders. “I know this movie is the best thing I’ve done so far, and it’s all because of you all. You brought the vision to life. This is something incredible. Thank you!”

Everyone cheered and clapped again. And then Eugenie yelled. “Wrap party at The Roxy!”

And the cheers got louder. Mikayla let go of Hunter to hug Chris, who made his way over to them. He’d been in the last scene with Hunter and they’d both really rocked it, at least Hunter thought it felt that way. Chris smiled, his hazel eyes bright, the crow’s feet that bordered them were somehow also attractive. “You are something to watch, Hunter. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Thanks, Chris, I couldn’t have asked for a better dad on this. You’ve been gracious on and off set,” Hunter smiled, and the two men hugged. “Are you going to the wrap party?”

Chris nodded. “Just for a bit. We have a flight early tomorrow. Back to my oasis in the Catskills.” He groaned as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “I can’t wait. I miss it so much.”

Hunter smiled. He understood. He missed his rundown apartment, but mostly he missed the guy he shared it with, and Colby wouldn’t be there when he got back. Hunter excused himself and headed off to wardrobe to change. He made a quick pit stop at his rental apartment to shower off the make-up and the grime of the long day. He changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt he stole from Colby. It was a Vintage Eagles concert t. Colby hadn’t mentioned it was missing, so Hunter didn’t know if he knew it’d been borrowed. He thought about Colby and whether he was liking his first day in New York. If he was jetlagged. Excited. Nervous. Suddenly Hunter had to give himself a pep talk to get himself out the door and to the bar for the party.

He spent a stupid amount of time staring at his open, mostly packed suitcase. He also flew out tomorrow, but only in the afternoon, plenty of time to recover from a good party, which is what he had been planning to do. And he’d also planned on walking into his Hayworth apartment tomorrow and finding Colby on the couch with his guitar. He’d assumed he’d spend the night telling Colby every single detail of the film shoot and maybe do some edibles with him and listen to every new song Colby’d written and then… maybe touch each other again. Hopefully. But none of that was going to happen.

He could still get drunk with his cast, though, since there was no guarantee he’d have another movie crew to celebrate with any time soon. Maybe never again, so he should take advantage. He forced himself out the door and walked the fifteen minutes to Granville Street, where The Roxy was located. It was almost ten thirty, and the party was in full swing. The streamer who acquired the rights had booked the entire venue and sent some suits for the celebration. As Hunter found his way to the bar, one of those network types approached him. He’d introduced himself earlier in the day… Jesse? James? No, that wasn’t it… Jesse Jenks? Maybe?

“Hey, Jesse,” Hunter said as Jesse extended his hand and Hunter shook it.