The next thing Ben knew, Jace was at his side and guiding him to the pagoda. The guests were scrambling for their seats, while Ben kept trying to protest that this was all in conflict with the schedule.
Then they were standing in front of everyone. Neither Ben nor Jace were particularly religious, so they had chosen to be married at a lake-side park rather than a church. The idea of having any sort of priest presiding over their ceremony didn’t suit them either, at least not at the time. Now Ben wished more than anything there was someone to guide their actions.
The song came to an end, and Jace began his speech. Ben only heard some of it, words like commitment and laughter, and something about growing old together, but the word that stood out the most was forever. No more uncertainty or wavering, no more lonely nights or pain. Just forever, with Jace.
At that moment Ben wanted nothing more. Ben had written a speech, and it was a good one too, but he didn’t have the patience for it now. He grabbed the rings set on a pedestal before them, shoved one into Jace’s hand, and kissed him.
After a surprised silence, the guests broke into applause and the DJ cued the next song. Ben had no idea what to do next, since he hadn’t planned this part, but Jace took him in his arms and began to sway to the music.
“So we’re married?” Ben asked, still not believing it.
“Yup,” Jace said.
“Simple as that?”
“Simple as that,” Jace laughed. “Just a promise and nothing more. Hard to believe that anyone makes a big deal out of it.”
“It is a big deal!” Ben protested, but this only made Jace laugh more.
As they danced, food was unloaded from vans, corks popped out of champagne bottles, and music was played, but it was some time before the newly married couple ended their embrace and walked hand in hand into a crowd of people who loved them.
* * * * *
The summer evening sky was clear, a gentle breeze keeping the temperature mild. On nights like this the theater was never filled to capacity. Ticket sales didn’t go down, but attendance did since not as many people showed up. Ben imagined audience members becoming distracted on their way to the theater, lured away by parks and riverside strolls.
Ben wanted to escape back into that summer night as well. He had already performed all but his final scene. He was playing the suitor of a powerful older woman. His character intended to marry the woman for her money but had inadvertently fallen in love with her, evidence of his once-greedy intentions coming to light just before the wedding. Ben’s last appearance in the play was a song to his lover, begging her forgiveness.
The usual terror and excitement stole over him as he returned to stage to begin his song. His fiancée rejected his apology as she did in every performance, leaving him alone on stage. Ben turned to the audience, the remaining lyrics those of remorse.
“Had I but known you when you were poor, had you but known me when I was pure.”
He swept his eyes over the audience, barely seeing them through his musical trance, but something pulled him back. A gaze more intense than others. Had the eyes been silver?
“If I could pull this love from my chest, leave you standing with all the rest.”
Tim. Ben was sure he was out there. Seeing the audience from the stage was never easy, but the shape of his face, the glint of those eyes. It had to be him. Ben wanted to step forward, out of the blinding spotlight, but he wouldn’t allow his voice to waver.
“But now there’s nothing left inside of me, just broken pieces no one can see.”
The lights faded, the entire theater in shadow. The applause made Ben flinch before a harsh whisper reminded him to return backstage. He waited in the wings as the rest of the play went on, squinting into the darkness at the figure he had seen, convinced at times that he had been mistaken. Then came the curtain call. Ben joined his fellow actors in their bows, impatient for the lights to rise so the audience could leave. By the time they did, the table was empty.
The next night was much the same. From his first line Ben’s attention was on the audience more than the play. The figure sat at a different table this time, but there he was, a solitary silhouette who never took his eyes off Ben, even when the lines weren’t his. Ben could see him a bit better at this new table, nursing a beer. Was that a cocky smile between swigs?
“Isn’t that right, Jacob?”
Ben’s imaginary fiancée put a meaningful hand on his shoulder.
“Y-Yes!” He scrambled for his line. “Yes, my dear, that is precisely what we shall do. Run away together, prove the nay-sayers wrong!”
He turned his full attention back to his acting, not looking at the audience again until his final song. He put all of himself into his voice, singing only to the table he could no longer see. I know you’re there, he wanted to communicate. I don’t know what you want, but please don’t run away.
When the lights came up at the end of the show, an empty beer glass was the only evidence that the table had been occupied.
* * * * *
“There’s someone waiting for you,” Brian said as Ben scrubbed the makeup from his face. “In reception.”
“Jace?” Ben asked, already knowing otherwise.
“No, but maybe I should give him a heads up,” Brian said, raising an eyebrow. “Whoever your mystery man is, he’s smoking hot.”
“Allison’s going to be sad when she finds out you’re crossing over,” Ben joked.
Ben didn’t hear Brian’s snappy comeback. His chest felt tight and his breath short as he hurried to make himself presentable. Was he excited? Nervous? Did he have a right to be either of these or was that the beginning of infidelity?
Steadying himself, he walked to the reception area, resisting the urge to run. Only one person waited there, and he was indeed breathtakingly beautiful. Silky blond hair framed his young face. His complexion was perfect, his mouth delicate and pink next to the black lip piercing. His blue eyes looked Ben over before settling into a scowl. The anger only accentuated his handsomeness.
“You’re Benjamin?” the boy asked.
“Ben,” he corrected, having already put the pieces together. This wasn’t good.
“So much for the legend.” The beauty faded momentarily, overshadowed by hate.
“And you are?”
“Ryan, Tim’s boyfriend.” He waited for a reaction, disgusted when none came. “What, he never told you about me?”
“I haven’t spoken to Tim in years.”
Emotions played across Ryan’s face—doubt, suspicion, sorrow. How young was he? Still a teenager, that was certain. Ben suddenly felt old. He thought back to his emotionally tumultuous adolescent years. What would he have wanted to hear if he were Ryan?
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he said. “I’m happily married. I’m not interested in Tim anymore.”
Ryan’s handsome visage returned to anger. “That doesn’t mean he’s not interested in you. I know he’s been coming here, so you can stop with the lies.”
Ben sighed. He wouldn’t be able to defuse this situation. Better to retreat and let them sort it out at home. “I have to go, but I hope you two work things out,” he said, turning to leave but stopping when he saw Brian standing in the doorway.
“Another one for you,” he said, looking concerned.
Tim stepped out from behind him. The last few years hadn’t been kind. He had circles under his eyes and stubble covered his chin. Even his once-invincible physique had grown paunchy. He appeared vulnerable and uncertain, until he spotted Ryan. Then his face became a mask of fury that Ben hadn’t seen since they parted as teenagers.
Oblivious of their surroundings, Tim and Ryan began shouting at each other. Ben stared in shock before shooing Brian away, promising to lock up. By the time he returned his attention to the conflict, Tim had grabbed Ryan’s arms and was shaking him and yelling. Ryan was alternating between crying and shouting back.