Like most of the other actors in the waiting room, Colin went over his sides again, scrolling the PDF on his phone, running the lines in his head. His years of voiceover work let him speak silently, changing the inflections, the emphasis, without making a sound.

Some of the other actors were also concentrating, and some were chatting it up with old friends, some so prepared that they were confident they’d get the part, some unprepared but overconfident.

It was a part that felt a lot like the Nephew, another “I believe in you” type, although this was an older brother supporting a younger brother in an inspirational true story flick. Which is of course why they’d called him in. All the same, as the saying goes, you can’t get typecast if you don’t get cast.

And Colin needed to work right now, on something, anything, to immerse himself in… anyone who wasn’t him, with his problems, with the thoughts of Henry that kept intruding on his concentration.

His audition went fine. He didn’t reach Olivier-level heights of Great Acting, but that wasn’t the point. The character was a lot like he was, and all he had to do was bring out the truth of the character, and today that was easy.

On his way out, his phone vibrated with a text message, from a strange number. He almost swiped it away to ignore it when the preview line caught his eye.

I know the real Henry.

Colin’s mouth went dry. He opened the text and read the rest of it.

Meet me at the deli on the corner.

Whoever this was knew where he was! And wasn’t giving him time to make a decision about whether or not he really wanted to know the truth about the “real Henry.”

Fuck it, he thought. Now I can really put the last nail in this coffin.

* * *

He looked around the deli, and saw nobody. Only a young girl, no more than twelve, at a table by herself. He was startled when she waved at him.

Like most adult men, he approached a strange young person with justifiable fear.

She saw it, and sighed. “Sit down. I’m Christina, I’m Henry’s niece.”

He took the seat across from her. “I guess I don’t have to tell you anything about me,” he said irritably. She was an odd looking child, more like a sprite or elf or something. She was small, but her eyes were sharp, intelligent, alert. However badly he’d read “Hamilton,” Colin was a keen student of people, as any good actor is, and he saw nothing ingenuous in her.

“What are you doing here? Did Henry send you?”

“God no. He and my father would die just knowing I was out in the big bad world by myself. But I overheard a long conversation between them, and I realized that if you and Henry had a thing, and it was over because of, lies or something, that… that you probably didn’t know the whole story.”

“I know that’s true,” Colin said bitterly.

“And if my name doesn’t ring a bell, then I know you don’t.” She sighed. “Yeah. Okay, here we go. I’m transgender. I was born Christopher. And when I realized I was a girl, it was… really hard in public school.”

Her calm, collected demeanor deserted her, and Colin realized that she wasn’t a little adult after all. But only for a moment, before she smiled again, putting the mask back on, a skill Colin realized must run in the family.

“There was one good private school I could get into, where my gender wouldn’t freak anyone out. The Rainbow School.”

“Yeah, I know of it.”

“It’s expensive. Like, fifty grand a year expensive.”

She looked at him, waiting for him to figure it out. And as the locks tumbled in his head, Colin started to feel dizzy.

“You mean…”

“Yeah. Henry’s been paying it for a couple of years now. And what I didn’t know, what my dad didn’t know, was how hard it was for him to make the payments. We knew about ‘Hamilton,’ but Henry always made us think Hamilton was making hundreds of thousands a year, that the tuition was just his tip money.”

“Oh my god.”

“And you know, he’s getting older. He can’t escort forever. So the screenplay money…”

Colin cut her off. “Was enough to ensure your schooling till you graduate.”

“Yep.”

He was floored. Why hadn’t Henry told him that!? Didn’t he know how much.. well, at least how much more sense it all made. That it wasn’t just a game, that it wasn’t just for money for him to spend on living the good life.

“You know,” she said, “Hamilton wasn’t a mirage. He was Henry, just… a part of him that he couldn’t believe he could be without playing a role.”

Colin nodded. “Yeah. I know that feeling.”

“I know he’s wrecked over all this. I can tell, he really has feelings for you. However, you know, fucked up the ways it got expressed.”

“I… wow. I just need some time to process this.”

She got up, and extended her small hand. “Don’t take too long. He’s in pain, too.”

He took her hand and shook it. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“De nada. Hope I see you again soon.”

And Colin was left alone to think. He was still hurt, of course. It was still… wrong of Henry to have turned Colin into a character in a story. But, not knowing his motivation, what else could he think other than that Henry was some kind of sociopath, a user and manipulator?

Now here was the evidence that he was the opposite of that. This little girl, that was why Henry had done it all.

And there was one more factor in Henry’s favor, Colin thought. At any time, he could have just… told Colin why. But he didn’t. He just took Colin’s rage and hurt. Didn’t try to justify himself.

Do you want to give him a second chance? Colin asked himself.

He laughed out loud, glad the restaurant was empty. You mean a first chance. For Henry, the man I don’t know. The man I’ve never even met.

Yeah, him.

Colin nodded. At the very least, Henry was someone he’d like to meet.