City of Angels Ch. 04

Craig wiped his face, feeling the slightly greasy stubble, as parts of the previous day slowly trickled into his memory. Talking to Mandy Grusmann. Then driving. And driving. And driving. He held his aching head and groaned. He had not done that in a long time. Ending up at Larry's. Going out. Dancing. Getting absolutely shit-faced. And that was it. That was all he could remember. The rest was a complete blank.

He wrapped a sheet around his waist and sat down, dialing Evan's number. After a long time, he finally picked up.

"Hello?"

Craig felt like he'd just been slapped in the face. Evan's voice was cold and devoid of his usual happiness at hearing from him. It startled Craig and immediately put him on high alert. His heart thudded loudly in his chest.

He stammered when he tried to respond. "Evan? Are you ok?"

"What do you think, Craig?"

"I don't understand. What's going on?"

"Jesus, you don't remember, do you? You were too fucking drunk."

"Evan, I'm—I don't know, I'm sorry, I—"

"Where were you last night? What did you do?"

"Uh . . . I went out to a club, I guess."

"Yeah. You know, I have to go. They need me back at the hospital."

"Wait! I don't . . . I can't remember. What happened?"

"I'm sorry, I have to go. Talk to you later."

"No! Don't—"

Craig clutched both hands to the sides of head. It was splitting in two. Evan! He felt like he had just slipped down a deep ravine and he was falling down, down with nothing to grab onto.

Just then his phone rang. He glanced at it—it was someone from work.

"Yeah?"

"Symons! Glad I caught you. So I heard things went well with Mandy over at Paramount. Glad to hear it!"

Craig felt like his world was spinning out of control. He could not think. What had happened? But he had to focus on this, he had to! He pushed Evan out of his head with a huge effort, and went into work mode.

"Yes, it did. Very positive."

"Awesome. So, I need you to come in bright and early Monday morning. Can you make it?"

Craig closed his eyes. He could not breathe!

"Yes. That's fine."

"Fantastic! Bring those contracts with you. I'd love it if you could write up a little synopsis of your meeting with Mandy, have it ready to present to the studio heads. You up for it? I know it's a bit of short notice."

"Nope, no problem. I'll be ready."

"Great. Great. Fingers crossed, this looks like a done deal. It's the big time, Craig, I hope you're ready."

"Yeah, see you soon."

Craig clicked off the phone, pulled on a pair of sweats, and went downstairs to make himself a Bloody Mary. A strong one.

+++

For the next couple of days, through the week that followed, it was unbelievable to both Evan and Craig that they had just said "I love you" and shared a wonderful intimate weekend together. In the matter of a day, it seemed to have blown up, revealing for the very first time anything less than perfect in their relationship. But they were both so pre-occupied they couldn't really think about it or face it.

The firestorm raged, all around the northern most part of Los Angeles county, as the days continued to blaze into 100 degrees and above. It was hell. An enormous cloud of ash and soot soon drifted over the city proper, hitting Malibu first and making Craig's eyes sting and leak tears. His life was utter insanity. He had to rush out the door early every morning for meetings, then drive to more meetings, then come home to write and work for the next day. He pushed himself and pushed himself. If he stopped for one second to think about what was going on—with Evan, with his life—he knew he'd just collapse, so he just kept working, and drinking himself into a near-stupor every night.

Evan was either at home with his mom and sister or at the hospital. He didn't see Chad at any point, though he wondered what he was up to. His dad was not doing well. It was beginning to seem like just a matter of time.

After that tense phone call, they had talked very briefly only a few times—not fighting, but maintaining a distance.

"Evan, I'm so sorry. What do you want? What can I do?" Craig pleaded with him.

"I don't know." He heard Evan sigh. "I'm sorry. I know you have things on your plate, too. I'm sorry. And look, I just don't know when I'll be up there. Not sure. But we'll talk, alright?"

"Alright, alright. I'll see you soon."

Craig seemed to have forgotten about his day of craziness driving around the city as he pushed hard to complete his deal. He went back into "being Craig Symons" mode, as skillful and charming as ever. But he felt completely numb.

Towards the end of the week, he was in his Porsche at the intersection of Sunset and Fairfax. He'd sent Evan a text more than an hour earlier and it had not been returned. He was checking his phone every two seconds, and each time he saw nothing the panic ratcheted up one more terrifying notch. He saw his own face and body plastered over the skyline, and it almost made him physically nauseous remembering what he was thinking about at the time. It made his stomach swoop up and down, as if he was on an airplane going through terrible turbulence. His own image made him sick. It was so fake. If people only knew what that man was feeling beneath the beautiful façade!

But somehow he managed to get it together. He simply couldn't think about the little tiff with Evan without massive panic breaking out and he COULD NOT afford that right now.

Tomorrow was Thursday. If he could only make it that far. Then everything would be settled with his work. And at least he'd know. He could relax at least for a little bit. He clung to that thought, and continued to drive.

+++

Evan had not been ignoring Craig; he just didn't have time or mental energy to answer his text that day. He spent every second at the hospital with his mother and sister. Like Craig, he was just hanging on, trying to get through the days. At night they all went home drained and exhausted.

He was in emotional free fall. He felt like a totally different person. Grief such as he had never known was turning his world completely upside down, plunging him into hell. He'd been completely blindsided by this storm.

When he wasn't at the hospital, he was home surrounded by his life. His past. All the memories of his father. He saw his captain's hat hanging on the door—his clothes, his coffee mug, his favorite recliner—and he was pulled down into a pit of quicksand of pain that sunk into his bones, wiped everything else out. It was unthinkable, unimaginable.

At night, after a quick "Hello, see you soon" to Craig on the phone, he curled up in a ball, doing nothing but aching.

Talking to Craig was strained, but not only because of that night. Evan felt, sensed, the very dynamics of their relationship subtly shifting under his feet.

He'd always been the strong one. For his mother, his sister, at work, even just being alone. Strong and proud and defiant, just like his father. But the love and pain wracking his body had rendered him weak. He didn't know how to deal with it, and he didn't know how it would be with Craig. This was . . . he couldn't even articulate it to himself. He lay in his bed staring at the walls, lost, drowning, confused beyond expression at the violent emotions roiling within him, most of which he did not understand.

He needed Craig. He ached for his body in his bed. At the same time, he was aware of anger—boiling, simmering, mystifying rage he had not truly felt since he was a teenager. He knew he was angry with Craig for the phone call, but there was something else, something more, something deeper, and it scared him. He didn't know where it was coming from or what it meant, only that he could trace it to hearing Craig laughing with his friends on the phone.

On Thursday, he went to the hospital as usual, and they were greeted with good news. His dad was sitting up, and looking better. The doctors said he was finally showing signs of improvement. Evan hugged him before he left.

Back at the house, he felt the first feeling of relief in nearly a week, and a slight, very slight, easing of pain. In fact, he was feeling so much better he decided to drive up to Malibu and surprise Craig. He knew this was a big day for him and he wanted to be there.

This had been Evan's very first experience with deep grief, and for a week he had barely noticed the world around him. When he stepped outside to get onto his bike, he was shocked at what he saw.

The sky over LA was eerie and otherworldly. The ash from the fires had changed the very chemistry of the clouds, it seemed, setting the sky ablaze with rippled streaks of violent pink and unnaturally intense, flourescent oranges and yellows. A dull haze of smoke smothered the setting sun and settled everywhere, blurring the hills. Evan looked around and noticed a fine layer of ash coating everything in sight, and it was still drifting down like snow all around him. He felt like he was on Mars. The world seemed to have completely changed.

He was just buckling his pack onto his bike, after wiping it down, when he saw Chad walking towards him. "Great" he thought, with a flaring of his anger. "Just what I don't need."

He stood by his bike as Chad approached, watching him. He felt his gaze being pulled down towards his crotch, noticing the bulge and really being aware of it. This was followed in quick succession by anger, guilt and shame. Chad looked like Craig. His goddamned blond hair and blue eyes reminded him of Craig as well as his open, easy manner. He didn't want to see it. It infuriated him!

"Hi," Chad said, running his hand through his soft, feathered hair in a gesture Evan knew so well.

"Hey, I'm on my way. Just leaving now."

"Ok, I won't keep you. I just wanted to say hello."

"Ok. Hello."

Chad sighed, and moved closer.

"Evan, please. I'd like to talk to you. I know you must be mad. But can't we please just talk? I want to explain."

"Alright, I'm listening."

Chad stood awkwardly in the driveway, with one hand on Evan's bike.

He said, quietly, "There's something I want to tell you."

"Ok."

"You asked if I was married. No, I'm not. I never have been. But I was with someone for a long time. Kind of why I came back here. I was coming off a bad break-up, had to get away, and then this job offer came along, and well, that's why I'm here."

"That's what you wanted to tell me?"

"Yes. Well, no, not exactly. I mean, the person I was with, my ex . . . it's a man. I'm gay, Evan. I just thought . . . you might want to know. If you'd only let me explain things."

Evan wasn't exactly surprised. In fact, he felt pretty sure this was coming. But he was surprised at his reaction. He wanted to jump off his bike and strangle him!

"How long?" he said through clenched teeth.

"Huh? How long what?" asked Chad.

"How long were you with this guy?" Evan snapped.

"Six years—why is that important?"

"You've known for six years?"

"No, longer than that. Damn it, Evan, can't we just talk?"

Evan sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, but just—not now, Chad. I'm really beat. And I have somewhere I have to be . . ."

"Well fine, but later? This weekend, maybe?"

"That'll work. I'll be here," Evan said as he gunned the motor on his bike. "It's, uh . . . nice to see you. I gotta go."

Chad sadly watched Evan take off, thinking "It was just like old times." Evan, being angry, avoiding him when he needed to, flying away on his motorcycle.

It had been almost ten long years since he'd been back here, and it was if nothing had changed. But that was one reason he'd come back—to see Evan, to face him, to deal with it. He needed to, to fully move on with his own life. His break-up with Todd had made that abundantly clear. He'd never forgotten Evan, never truly gotten over him. He needed to know how Evan felt, where he was at. He had to.

Seeing him in the flesh after all this time had totally knocked Chad on his ass. The old attraction burned just as hot as before—even more so now that he was fully out to himself. No one, not even Todd, got to him like Evan did. And it was strange seeing Evan's personality again, the same as it always was, his fiery temper, his repression, his need to flee—it was all part of the attraction. But he felt pretty sure Evan was still in the closet. He'd never doubted Evan was gay, at least, once he came out. He knew it in his bones. But this put a little twist into things. He thought by now Evan would have realized it. Could he be the one to plant that seed in his mind? What should he say?

He walked back to his house with a heavy heart. If he could only have an hour. Just one hour! Just one hour alone with the love of his life.

+++

Evan zoomed up towards Malibu eager to see Craig and get him in his arms. He wanted to make up and get right back to where they were before this horrible week. More than that, he needed him. Oh, did he need him! His warmth, his smile, his beauty, his softness. Evan felt like he'd just barely been holding it together for days, and he couldn't stand it one more minute. Every second flying up the coast was torture. For the very first time, Evan knew he needed Craig more than, or as much as, Craig needed him. His usual strength had crumbled beneath him, seeing his father so helpless, so frail, and human! He'd held it together for his family and even for himself, alone, but it was eroding second by second, the faster he drove.

The night was so pitch black! The smoke was obscuring most of the usual illumination, to the point where the brightest spots on the horizon were the fires forming a distant ring to the north. The dry, hot wind burned into his skin as he flew north, towards the heat, towards the flames, towards his love.

But when he pulled into Craig's driveway, Evan was extremely surprised and irritated to see that Craig was not alone and waiting for him, as he expected. His place was mobbed with expensive cars, and he heard loud drunken laughter and music blasting from his patio.

He hadn't called; he knew his arrival was going to be a surprise, but nevertheless he felt a flare of intense anger at what he found. Apparently Craig was having a "party."

He parked his bike and took off his helmet and walked to the door, where several men he didn't recognize were standing with drunks in hand, laughing.

"Heyyyy, come on in!"

"Ooooh please!"

"What's going on?" Evan asked.

"Look around!" someone said. "It's the party of the apocalypse baby! Get a drink!"

"Where's Craig?" Evan demanded.

"Craigy? He's out on the lanai. What's your hurry?"

"I just want to find Craig, that's all."

"Well get in line, cutie."

Evan pushed his way inside, annoyed. He couldn't help thinking of the first party he'd been to at Craig's house. And lo and behold, as soon as he had that thought, he ran into Larry and Troy as soon as got into the kitchen. "Oh, great," he muttered.

"You seen Craig?" he said abruptly to them.

Both Larry and Troy looked at him like he was a little bug. Evan knew from a glance Craig hadn't told them about him. They clearly had no clue who he was—who he was to Craig. It enraged him to even see them here!

"Well he's around somewhere. How do you know him again?"

"None of your fuckin' business," Evan growled as he pushed past them.

He finally found Craig out on his patio. Evan could tell from one glance that he was drunk. He had a martini in hand and he was laughing with some men.

As he got closer he could overhear the conversation.

"Remember that trip to San Diego, a couple of years ago?" Craig was saying. "The fountain?"

Everybody else erupted into peals of laughter.

"Those Italian guys? The tourists?"

"Gianni and Luciano? Fuuuuck . . ."

"Here's to Italian men," Craig raised his glass in a toast before tossing back the whole glass. "And just . . . fucking MEN. Oh . . . and here's mine!"

Evan was standing sort of dumbstruck, watching Craig. He'd never seen him quite like this. Craig reached out and pulled him towards him. He was sitting on a ledge and he spread his legs and positioned Evan between them while wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck, not noticing that Evan was standing like a statue.

"I've missed you. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Evan tried to smile and play along, but he was fuming with anger. Craig was wasted.

Craig smothered him with kisses while running his hands over Evan's stomach and hips. Evan felt himself getting hard despite himself.

"Mmmm . . . you guys haven't met my boyfriend yet, Evan. He's a cop."

Some of the guys around Craig smiled and were friendly, but most stared at him with hostility. Evan did not feel welcomed into this crowd, and it made him pull away from Craig's hands and mouth.

"Aw, baby, what's wrong?"

"Stop it, Craig. I didn't know there'd be people here."

"Oh, we're just having a little fun. I had to celebrate," Craig yelled, leaning far backwards with his arms held out over the railing and letting the hot wind blow through his silky hair. He yelled "God I love LA!" into the sky.

Evan held tightly to his thighs behind him, and hissed, "Be careful!"

"Oh, it's fine! I'm fine! I'm rich, for fuck's sake. It all happened today, baby. Everything. We're going to have everything we ever wanted! Have some fun!"

"Jesus, Craig, watch it!" Evan had spun around to keep him from falling and they both collapsed together against the railing. For a second, Evan saw the real Craig—his Craig—look at him, and he whispered, "It's me, baby." Craig let out a kind of drunken moan and a bleary "Evan?" before doubling over with laughter.

"How funny is that? I'm almost as rich as my dad."

"Craig—"

"Yes, Craig Symons SENIOR, of Symons DEVELOPMENT. Fucking bastard if there ever was one. My daddy," Craig spat out with disgust, while Evan glared at him. "Mmmmm, here's my real daddy, right baby?" Craig said, trying to run his hands up towards Evan's crotch.

Evan roughly pushed him away. "I'm going upstairs, Craig. I need to be alone. When you're done 'having fun,' come and talk."

The party did not stop. Evan sat in Craig's bed—their bed—waiting and waiting, getting angrier by the minute. It was so fucking LOUD. He put pillows over his head but he couldn't drown out the laughter. It was driving him crazy. He tossed and turned, thinking about Chad laughing in gay bars, having sex, being with men . . . six years in a relationship with a man . . . six years he had missed with Craig! More than that—ten years, his whole life, as far as he could remember.

For the first time Evan felt a wild jealousy for Craig's life without him, before him. And resentment . . . deep, bitter resentment . . . he struggled to understand why . . . Craig. . . if he didn't have him . . . if he didn't have him, he'd have nothing. Nothing! No relationship to his sexuality, and Craig made it all seem so easy and effortless! He couldn't stand the thought of Craig down there enjoying himself with his friends!

Finally the music and laughter died down, and Evan heard Craig shut the door and the last car drive off. He heard glasses clinking and sounds of cleaning up, then Craig padding up the stairs to the bedroom.

When he came in Evan saw that Craig had his shirt off. He was clad in nothing but a pair of tight jeans and he looked so amazingly hot it took Evan's breath away.

Evan was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting and watching, saying nothing.

"What's up?" Craig said, casually. He was still drunk, obviously, and Evan had never really seen the full drunk Craig before. He was different. He had a totally different vibe.

"You have fun down there?" Evan said.

"Yeah, fuck, I needed it. Just had to let off some steam, ya know? It's been a hard week."

"Really. Was it?" Evan said, with barely restrained fury. He moved towards Craig as if he were stalking a piece of prey.