Page 28 of Forever Finn
“Yeah,” Wyatt says quietly as he studies me, and I’ve never felt so naked, not even when I was actually naked in front of him.
“Anyway.” I shrug brusquely. “That’s it, my rags to riches story. Not really that exciting.”
“Finn, can I ask something else? And you can tell me to mind my own business.”
I nod, feeling nerves dancing in my belly, not knowing what else he’s going to ask. After all, I’ve pretty much just told him my biggest secret; that I hated being me so much I became an actor so I could spend all my time pretending to be someone else.
“When did you realise you were gay?”
Oh, well, okay, I guess that’s not such a bad question.
“I was young,” I admit. “Probably around ten or eleven. I guess when the hormones start kicking in and you start noticing your attraction to other people. When my friends started noticing girls, I realised I was more interested in boys.”
“Did Reed know? Did you tell him?”
I shake my head slowly.
“What about Cody?” he asks suddenly, and my stomach clenches painfully as a slideshow of painful memories slam into my mind. Unable to help myself, I gasp audibly.
We sit staring at each other for a moment until he opens his mouth and utters the words I’m not prepared for.
“Finn,” his voice is low and sympathetic. “Did something happen between you and Cody?”
13
His face is pale, and I can see the faint tremor in his hands. He fists them at his sides to hide his body’s reaction to my question, and I somehow know I’ve inadvertently stumbled on the root of the problem. I got the impression from conversations with Deacon that his brother Cody was straight and was maybe even a bit of a player from what I gather, but there’s something else there. Something happened between Cody and Finn, probably right before he died, and if I’m right, whatever it was forced Finn to not only run from the only home he’d ever known and the people who loved him but forced him to reject the most deeply rooted and important part of himself.
“It’s okay, Finn,” I tell him softly. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I… I can’t,” he whispers brokenly, and it kills me to see the sadness and shame in his eyes.
“It’s okay.” I lean forward and reach for him, sliding my hand along his jaw and grasping his face gently. “It’s okay,” I repeat firmly. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
He watches me carefully before finally nodding. Looking for a change of subject I grasp onto the first thing that comes to mind.
“When you think back to when you were a kid, your earliest memories, what did you want to be?” I smile keeping it deliberately light-hearted. “An astronaut? A rock star? A doctor?”
He chuckles, seemingly grateful for the change of subject and sits back as I allow my hand to fall.
“You promise you won’t laugh?”
“Cross my heart.” I smile as I watch him curiously.
“Well, my career… although I kind of tripped and fell into it, it wasn’t entirely off the mark,” he admits as I listen in interest. “When I was about eight, we went on a school trip to the Hall for Cornwall, it’s an old town hall that was converted in the late nineties into a theatre. It was the first time I’d ever been to the theatre.”
“What did you see?”
“The Pirates of Penzance.” He smiles fondly in remembrance. “I remember Reed and Cody and the others messing around and getting into trouble with the teacher, but I was just… I don’t know–” He shakes his head. “I can’t even describe the feeling, nerves and excitement. The lights went down, and we were sitting in the darkness. I could hear the orchestra down in the pit warming up. I can still remember the feel of the velvet seat beneath me and the glossy program in my hands and then the lights came up.” He breaks off and shakes his head. “I sat there breathless and spell bound through the whole performance, and I remember thinking to myself that’s what I want. To be standing out on stage performing, the sounds of the audience ringing in my ears and the vibration of the music through the stage under my feet.”
“Did you ever try it?” I ask, even though I’m pretty sure of the answer. “Many actors take time out from filming to do stage productions.”
He huffs in amusement. “The Patrick Stewart’s and Sir Ian McKellen’s of the acting world maybe, but when was the last time you saw Jason Statham playing a title role on Broadway.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I snort. “I could totally see him in a production of Kinky Boots.” He laughs loudly and I top up his wine glass, glad to see him relaxing once again. “Besides, you’re way prettier than Jason and you have more hair.”
“That’s not difficult,” he sniggers as he takes a sip. “I was in a couple of school productions but mostly I just stuck in my lane, which basically involved blowing shit up and delivering cheesy one liners, not exactly Shakespeare at the Minack.”
“Is that what you’d want to do?” I lean back on my side, propping myself comfortably on my elbow as I sip my own wine.