Page 41 of Fanboy in the Falls (Devon Falls #3)

“Indeed.” I sigh. “And, well, let’s just say I did not let any of that stand.

I asked him what business it is of his how anyone identifies.

I reminded him that people once thought anyone who identified as bi or gay or lesbian had a mental illness, and I made it clear how hard people have had to fight against that dangerous idea.

I asked him how he could ever wave a pride flag with any kind of dignity, knowing full well how many people suffered and died so that everyone in our community could be allowed to live and love proudly and as our full selves.

I told him that he needed to start respecting Dellie by using their preferred name, just as he’d call anyone else by the name they like to be called.

Because that’s just good, human manners. ”

“Wow.” Gabe shakes his head. “Did you really say all that?”

“I really did.” I close my eyes against the words I say next. “And then, the very next day, he started making my life miserable on the set.”

Colin’s eyes go dark. “What did he do?” he asks, his voice menacing.

“Nothing much to Dellie,” I assure him. “Their scenes were almost over, thank goodness, so they wrapped quickly after that night. But Ron turned plenty of ire on me. He started embarrassing me in front of the cast and crew and refusing to work with me when I had ideas for takes. So I went to a producer to explain what had happened at the bar and that I felt there was retaliation involved.”

“And the producers did something?” Gabe asks.

“They certainly did. They decided to kill off my character and fire me.”

The room goes silent. “I will destroy them all,” Colin says, and his voice is just steady enough that I believe every word. I laugh.

“Well, no murder would save my career at this point anyway.” I sigh.

“It was made very clear to me that some of the producers of the film, generally speaking, agree with Ron, but no one’s said any of that publicly.

When I mentioned what happened to a few of our colleagues, it was obvious they were hesitant to fully believe me or stand behind me.

” I shrug. “I couldn’t bring it all up in public without creating hell for Dellie, who left the set before any of this even happened.

So it’s all Ron’s word against mine. The PR message has become that they adjusted the storyline of the book in such a way that my character had to die.

And that’s what everyone will be told when the movie releases.

My agent thinks it’s best that we stick to that story and tell the world how I wanted to move onto new roles.

She’s been asking me to come back to LA for auditions. ”

“Oh, Tom.” Gabe grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly in his. “That’s… I don’t even know what to say.”

“Colin’s murder eyes say it all,” I tell them both, because this room clearly needs some light in it right now. Colin raises an eyebrow, unrepentant.

“But I don’t need anyone to commit homicide on my behalf,” I add.

“I’m taking action on my own, bestie. Finally.

I called Max, that reporter who’s shacked up with those hot firefighters.

He’s coming over to interview me later, and I’m going to tell him all about what really happened with The Good Sword.

” I hold up my coffee mug in a salute. “Once more into the breach, I suppose. I mean,” I add, “I won’t share anything Dellie doesn’t want me to.

I’ll call them today to talk about the situation, and I absolutely won’t drag them into anything they don’t want to be involved with.

But I'm going to make it clear that I was fired because I chose to speak up against a toxic work environment, one that did not fully include and embrace all of its employees.”

Colin just stares at me. It’s Gabe who speaks first.

“Wow,” he says. “You’re incredible, Tom.”

I shake my head. “I wish I would have done more, sooner. That I’d had the courage to speak out after everything happened.

There are so many things I’d do differently if I could travel through time.

” I sigh. “But I’ve been thinking about what you said last night,” I say to Gabe.

“About shame. I don’t have anything to be ashamed of.

I did my best work for that production. So did Dellie.

I’m proud that I chose not to tolerate intolerance that night in the bar, and I need to start acting like it. ”

“Wow.” Gabe shakes his head as he smiles. “Tom, that’s amazing. I’m proud of you.”

“Me too.” Colin says the word softly. He shrugs. “Sometimes I wonder how the last few years could have been different for me if I was ready to be that open about how much I struggled with my mental health after Chris died.”

“Hey.” I shake my finger at him. “No beating yourself up. You needed time, and space. Just like I’ve needed it. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” My heart coils around the word as he stands to kiss me on the head and starts clearing plates.

“I know, you’re right. But it isn’t just me, you know?

Maybe I could have helped other athletes working to improve their mental health.

So much of that gets hidden in the sports world.

Maybe me talking about it could have made a difference for someone else. ”

“It still could, you know,” Gabe says softly. Colin looks at him, eyebrows raised in a question.

“I just mean,” says Gabe. “That there happens to be a reporter coming over today, to talk to Tom. And you’ll be here too, and…”

Colin sets the plates on the counter and frowns. He picks up his coffee mug, cradling it in his hands. I don’t say anything. If there’s one thing I recognize after years of life with Colin, it’s his thinking, thinking, face.

Eventually, he sets the mug down. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah. I think I also want to talk to Max, Tom. You think he’d be okay with that?”

I snort. “Would a freelance reporter be okay with talking to a Hollywood star about all the sordid details of his lost career and also getting the scoop on an international racing driver’s mental health journey?

Yes, Colin, I think he’ll agree.” I stand up to pull him into my arms. “Good for you, love,” I whisper.

“Well, that’s settled then. Max is getting a banner headline, that’s for sure.

” I wink at Gabe. “Now we just need to find a way to make sure we keep Lou protected and cared for. And we will,” I add.

Colin nods and grunts in agreement, his eyes narrowing.

I’m quite certain Colin’s spending a great deal of his time in this cabin creating custody backup plans and revenge plots against Dave that may or may not be suitable for all audiences.

Gabe frowns and fidgets in his chair. “What if we told Max even more?” he says quietly.

“Like what?” Colin takes Gabe’s pain pills from the counter and shakes the right amount out for Gabe as he fills a glass of water.

Gabe looks back and forth between us. “Maybe you two aren’t ready for this,” he finally says.

“And if you’re not, I don’t want to rush you, so please just say so.

” He draws in a long, deep breath. “But I was just thinking that you two aren’t hiding anymore, and I don’t want to either.

” He shakes his head. “And then I was thinking that if we just told Max about the three of us—that we’re, um, together…

” he trails off. And then he looks up, back and forth between us, and there’s nothing but determination written across his face.

“And then Dave would know. The whole world would. We wouldn’t have to hide.

And he would know I’m not ashamed of this.

Not one bit. But,” he adds quickly, “this isn’t just about me.

We don’t have to do this if either of you don’t want to. ”

Colin and I have, I estimate, held thousands and thousands of silent conversations in our lifetime together, in places all over the world.

We’ve silently mocked bad reporters in Abu Dhabi, worried over a grieving Sam in Manhattan, speculated on my dating prospects in Sydney.

But right now I have every feeling that when we look back on this moment, years from now, we’ll both remember this as one of the most important silent conversations we’ve ever had.

I lock onto his eyes with mine. He needs to answer first, because the answer to this question means so much more for him than me. Colin’s only just discovering new aspects of himself, his identity, and I’m not sure he’s ready to share so much of himself with the world so quickly.

But when he looks back at me, there’s a fierceness in his gaze that I haven’t seen in years. Not since his last race before Christian died. I see his answer there. Yes.

I smile. Nod. I know he hears my response.

“We’re in,” I tell Gabe. “But are you sure, little fox? What about Lou and child services and custody?”

Gabe fidgets in his chair and stares down at his cast. Then he looks back up at us, lips pursed.

“There are too many people in the world,” he says finally, “who keep telling people like that director and Dave that they should resent anyone who’s different from them.

They tap into the frustration and anger Dave has and tell him to direct it at people like us and Dellie and Lou instead of dealing with what’s actually wrong in his own life.

They keep promising Dave that anyone who’s too different from him is going to hurt the whole world.

” He swallows hard. “Those kinds of people are telling Dave to resent his own son. They tell him that differences make people weak, even though the things that make Lou unique are the things that make him amazing, you know? And for years, now, I've had to just live with Dave listening to those people. I was a party of one. I didn’t have anyone standing behind me. And it’s easier to stay silent and not speak up when you feel there’s no one behind you, backing you up. Does that make sense?”

I gulp as I lean over and take one of his hands.

Colin takes the other. “I do understand,” I tell him softly.

I think of how alone I felt the day Melody told me I’d been fired: like every person who’d ever cheered me on suddenly disappeared through a false door on my stage of life, and there I was, all by myself in the spotlight.

Gabe smiles slightly. “I thought about running, sometimes,” he says quietly. “With Lou. Just taking him and disappearing.” I grip his hand tightly as I try to imagine Gabe and Lou, disappearing from Devon Falls, away from me and Colin. From this. From whatever we’re starting to build together.

Colin’s eyebrows knit together fiercely. “Thank fuck you didn’t,” he all but growls.

Gabe nods, slowly. “Yeah. Because I’ve got people behind me now. Don’t I?”

I laugh. “Oh, little fox. Not just behind you. In front of you. Off to the side. Wherever you need us.”

Gabe purses his lips again, and I watch as a soft fierceness slowly takes over his entire face. “Then it’s time,” he finally says, “to stop being silent. Lou deserves better than silence.” He clears his throat. “It’s time,” he says, “to fight for Lou. And me.”

A combination of hope and excitement and something else I can’t quite put a word to rushes through me as I grip Gabe’s hand harder and look where I always do in moments of importance: Colin.

Colin nods, just slightly, and I hear his next words before he ever says them out loud.

“Yes,” he agrees. “Now we fight. Together.” He looks back over at me. “All three of us.”