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“And the winner of Best Actor in a Television drama is…”
Cue the obligatory dramatic pause and smarmy smile as someLove Islandwinner wearing an impossibly small dress tried to open an envelope with her too-long nails.
I knew the drill. If it hadn’t already been obvious that I’d bagged this award, the two-camera crew in my face waiting for that golden moment of tear-jerking TV would have given the game way.
We’d done this twice already. Caroline and I had been up there to accept Best Scene in a Television Drama and Best Script for a Television Drama. Not that we’d had anything to do with the script, but the writing team had been up there too in the background. No one cared about them; they wanted us at the front, the two of us looking suitably awkward as we politely accepted awards that were then handed to the scriptwriters, who handed them to handlers as soon as the cameras went to adverts.
“Connor Telford forWhite Noise.”
Here we went again. Not that I wasn’t proud. There were actors here who had done much better work than I had, but still. I smiled. Stood up and put my hands around Matt’s face. Kissed him, mouthingI love youas the camera zoomed in on me. The viewers at home would have some narrator going over my bio and pointing out that my partner was in the crowd supporting me tonight and that Caroline and the entireWhite Noiseteam were cheering loudly behind me as I buttoned up my suit jacket and confidently strode up towards the stage.
More air kisses. More awkward smiles. Blinding stage lights in my eyes as I pretended to be shocked and honoured and to not know what to say.
“I would like to thank the production team ofWhite Noise, who have endlessly supported me during the past years. Without the fantastic teamwork behind me I wouldn’t be standing here. I am incredibly honoured,” I waffled on, names and bullshit dripping from my lips as I smiled.
“Most of all, I want to thank Caroline Kovác, who has been my constant companion throughout this amazing adventure. And my partner Matt, who I love more than anything else in the world. Thank you!”
I smiled some more, waved the award around like I meant it and got my picture taken with theLove Islandwoman and her nails as well as some other people who apparently mattered. Then I was ushered around the back for more bullshit and pictures as the award got swirled away, not to be seen again until it would appear on Lucia’s office shelf and eventually get packed up and stored in my mum’s loft. These things were all trivial ego boosts for show and didn’t really matter. Not in my world. Lucia was proud as punch, though, as I gave her a brief hug and returned to my seat between Caroline and Matt.
“Good job.” Caroline giggled. “You looked like a stiff.”
“Can’t help it in this suit. It’s too small and—”
“I like too small,” Matt murmured. “Makes your arms look massive. Good job you’re playing some kind of cartoon superhero next.” He wasn’t helping and took none of this too seriously. Thank God. He was always there. Mocking me and loving me and holding me at night. Everything I needed in the world.
“It’s a children’s movie. Based on a very famous children’s book,” I insisted. Yes. Inappropriate after playing Cass Powell, and I knew it, but Lucia was working hard at broadening the roles I took, and after I’d comfortably survived theLA Boysrun and then ended up doing a BBC period drama where I once again had been mostly naked, she’d rightly decided that it was time for me to change direction and be more family orientated.
My next job was playing a superhero…who wore very few clothes. I’d tried to point that out to her, but she’d just tutted and threatened to book me another round of auditions in LA.
I refused to go to LA. I’d had so much of my life directed at me and I was finally taking control. I was going to stay here. With Matt. Doing whatIwanted.
“You did good. We did good.” Caroline protectively patted my arm as the camera crew once again swung by us.
We were still a team—and still seen as the stars ofWhite Noisesince nobody knew what the next season would bring. Well, the viewers were stupid if they thought we’d be back, since Inspector Stella Rubin had been the one to stab me in the chest in a scene of the ultimate betrayal. Ultimate prize, my arse. Then Toby had been back, which had been the only highlight of that pathetic reshoot in Norfolk, and he’d looked as smarmy as ever shooting Stella to kingdom come in a twist that had shocked the nation.
Even I had been stunned into silence when I’d watched the finished season. The scriptwriting team deserved that gong because the storyline had once again tied together to become an awe-inspiring, award-winning show full of twists and turns. Still, I couldn’t watch part of it. Too many feelings being triggered in my chest that I didn’t want to remember. Too much love for the man who grabbed my hand.
“You did good.”
“I know.”
We were at another ad break. The stills photography team zoomed in, and Matt was told to move out of the shot so they could get a shot of Caroline and me looking all…cosy.
Which I wasn’t having. Neither was Caroline, who always had my back. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she pulled at Matt’s tie to produce something that would probably make headline news in the morning. I knew how filthy it looked, her planting a kiss on my cheek while tugging at Matt’s tie and me looking at Matt like I wanted to eat him.
For the record, I did. And would. Later. I had Dave on standby and was planning on being in bed by midnight—we still lived in our little place on Cardiac Road—and anyway, Matt had assembly to run in the morning and Caroline and I were…working. It didn’t feel much like work.
“Fuck, they’re annoying. Remind me to talk about this tomorrow.”
“Absolutely. We’ll blow the lid off award shows and probably never be invited to one again.”
“Good thing Lucia is censoring our shit then. I think Matt and I should switch seats, just to confuse them even more. And Matt? We need to snog at the afterparty. Scandal is the first of my many names, OK?”
My Matt just sighed, taking Caroline for exactly what she was. Caroline and I still took the mickey out of us but now also ribbed each other as a podcast on Spotify. Our weekly episodes ofBeyond the Noisehad started as an afternoon of ideas and too much wine in Tara and Sadie’s garden and ended up being a slick production that was now being pitched as a major documentary, which they wanted me to narrate. There was also talk of a book, which filled me with dread because that hadn’t been part of why we’d started this in the first place. But apparently, our view of growing up in the limelight and being hounded by a life lived in the shadow of social media had married well with our discussions on sexuality and gender identity. We also knew enough interesting people to support us, and the episode where Tara and I had discussed that now famous photoshoot had shot us straight up the charts.
I’d told Lucia she shouldn’t have worried about those pictures, and she’d just huffed at me calling me her problem child. I was nobody’s problem child. Well, maybe I was, as my mum and Matt’s mum and my auntie Trish waved at us from the guest seats I snagged for them in the balcony above, along with Mrs Wu and Wei. Yes. Friends. I had them now. I had good friends. I…gulp…socialised with normal human beings, and that realisation always made me smile. I was still me, and I could do…most things.
Life had changed, in so many ways.
