Beginnings and Ends (Short Story) Read Online Free PDF Page B

think of Tommy, think of that day all those years ago when we met. I think of those first giddy weeks and months we spent together, as we did that dance of getting closer and then backing away, as we fell in love.
    I think of the way we celebrated when I got a part—a small one—in my first major movie.
    I think of the look on his face when we ran into Billy and Freedom down on Newbury Street, and I introduced him as a
friend;
as he realized that that was never going to change, that I couldn’t and wouldn’t be honest with anyone about who he was and what he meant to me.
    I think of the way, almost exactly a year later, that I received news of my first Oscar nomination, in a hotel room in Santa Fe, with some nameless trick still asleep in my bed.
    And I gaze back into Irene’s waiting eyes and I confess. “I’ve never been happy.”
    “Maybe,” she says, “it’s time to try.”
    We made a video and posted it online. Linked it to my Facebook fan pages and my Twitter account, and sent it as an attachment to TM fucking Z. And then, only then, after it was done, I drank myself unconscious
.
    I sit up, fast, in bed as I remember this, and the top of my head nearly comes off. I make an anguished noise as I clutch it, and Irene awakens, lifting her own head. She didn’t get drunk last night, so she remembers, immediately, all that we did.
    I stagger out of the room, down the stairs, and into my office where the computer is still connected to the video camera.
    With fumbling fingers, I slap open my YouTube account, and there it is. With over 800,000 hits. Early on a Sunday morning.
    “Hi, my name is Joe Laughlin, and I’m gay. G, A, Y. Gay. Shall I say it again for you? I’m gaaaaay. If that’s a problem for you, fuck you and the horse you rode in on.”
    I feel Irene who has come to stand beside me, even as on the video she pushes me aside so that she’s in the camera’s frame, too. “And I’m Irene Laughlin,” she announced with her trademark smile, “and I knew Joe was gay when I married him, but I did it, I became his beard, because I like him, and, well, really because I wanted to be in a movie with him, which is kind of skeevy, I know, but we
are
being honest here. Anyway, we’ve spent a lot of time talking these past few weeks, and I kinda convinced him that it was long past time to come out. So, here he is. Here
we
are, because I am standing beside him as he does this
really
amazing thing. He’s an incredible actor and a truly great guy, and why the
fuck
anyone should care that the person he happens to be in love with is named Tommy is beyond me!” She looks at the me who is still glaring into the camera. “Uh-oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”
    I’m gripped by a courage I now barely recognize, I’ve used it so infrequently. “Tommy,” I say with an intensity that makes it seem like I’m about to crawl into the camera to find him. “Call me. Please. I’m gonna wake up tomorrow, and …” I don’t finish my sentence, because telling him that I’m afraid that this is gonna be one fucking big mess isn’t likely to make him want to call.
    Here in tomorrow, Irene puts her hand on my shoulder as we watch the Joe on the screen lose most of his conviction and bravado. It’s clear I’ve realized that I burned my bridges and it’s much too late. All I’m doing here is killing my career, destroying the very thing that I sacrificed so much to attain. So I add, “But it’s okay if you don’t call. I wouldn’t if I were you.”
    Here in the light of morning, I remember that before we turned the camera on, we wrote a list of things to include, and the Irene in the video stays on target. “Richard West, you’re fired.” She looks at me pointedly, and I say it, too, flipping my ex-manager the bird while I’m at it.
    Both Irenes think that’s funny, but the Irene in the video has moved on to the next bullet point, which is Billy. She has no idea why I want to send a special message to