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“Who?” said Hector.
“Say more!” cooed Audra.
Patrick explained what he had learned from the woman out at Venice Beach, showing them all pictures on his phone that she had permitted him to take of the hidden proof of Captain Kismet’s real origins, and in watching him speak, Will felt his eyes threaten to fill. He looked like a man who had just come home.
“We’ve always been here,” said Patrick. “I know that shouldn’t surprise me. But it does. To know that in some small way, the reason I’m here, in this car, with all of you, is because of them. It feels like…”
“Lineage,” said Will.
Patrick smiled, and it was a shining, glorious thing. “Yes. Lineage.”
“This is incredible, Patrick. I’m so happy for you.”
“That’s not all,” Patrick said. He put his hand on Will’s knee and looked over at Simone. “I want to come out.”
For the first time since the elevator doors opened, Will saw Simone’s perfect facade crack, a flicker of panic crossing her eyes. Or was that genuine concern?
“We’ve talked about this,” she said.
“I know,” said Patrick. “And I know I told you this was what I wanted, that I was OK with it. But the truth is, I’m not.”
Simone took a deep breath, as if she had been preparing for this conversation for a long time but was still not eager to have it.
“Things will change,” she said. “The roles that get offered to you. The opportunities. You might even lose the Kismet movies.”
“Money, money, money,” said Patrick. “You’re always talking about the money we’ll lose by being honest, the opportunities that will dry up, the people who’ll boycott, the markets who’ll drop me. But what about the people who don’t? The ones whose lives might even be improved, who might feel less alone?”
“You’re certainly putting a lot of stock in your own significance,” said Simone.
“That’s just the thing!” Patrick said, his voice rising. “It’s not about me! It never was! It’s about all of us. How can we ever expect to change anything when we keep playing by other people’s rules? Fuck them!”
“I don’t know what to say.” Simone’s impassive demeanor finally gave way to a crease at the eyes, a pursing of the lips. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Me neither,” Will echoed.
“I’m just full of indignant rage,” said Patrick. “And I also haven’t had sex in several months. Well.” He turned to Will. “There was an aborted encounter in a bathroom stall that I’ll tell you all about later, and it didn’t mean a thing, and we were broken up, and—”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t try to get over me by getting under someone else,” said Will. “Don’t worry about that.”
“I appreciate where you’re coming from,” said Simone, “but representation is just the start. It’s the bare minimum, Patrick. If you want to do this, I will be right there with you, but being an openly gay celebrity is a whole gig by itself. People are going to have questions. And the community will have expectations. The handsome white man is going to need to have a clear stance on all the issues. Book bans. Trans rights. ‘Don’t Say Gay’ legislation. Are you ready for that, Renaissance man? Actor, activist, role model?”
“I’m ready to do the work,” Patrick told her. “I have a lot to make up for.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” said Will, putting his hand over Patrick’s.
“It’s not just you,” said Patrick. “I feel like I owe them. Iris and Charles. They had to lie and hide to be happy. Their story had to be a secret. If after all this time, I’m doing exactly the same, I can’t ever expect anything to change, can I?” His strident tone dropped. “I couldn’t hide and be with you.”
Will looked around the car, at Audra and Hector and Corey and Simone’s expectant stares, and realized that he and Patrick were going to have to have the most intimate, awkward conversation of their relationship with an audience. Which felt perversely apt.
“We don’t have to talk about this now,” he said.
“Don’t we?” Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Then what did you fly all the way to Los Angeles for? The food?”
“I just don’t know how this would ever work,” said Will, flapping his hands around the back of the limousine. “Not to be dramatic, but we’re from different worlds. You make movies in Hollywood, I sing and dance in a dive bar wearing a dress.”
“And yet here you are,” said Patrick, “on your way to a premiere with me.”
“Yes, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in this moment. But what about all the other moments after this one? How do we make it work, day to day?”
