As it turned out, having a secret boyfriend was a lot harder than Jonah had anticipated. Nights with Christian were amazing. He seemed to have nearly-endless energy, and he brought out a side of Jonah he had never seen before. It was the days on set that were the problem. In the week and a half since Christian had come over, Jonah found himself second guessing every single thing he said.

It was amazing how quickly Christian had woven himself into Jonah’s life. Occasionally, he would be halfway through telling his castmates a story Christian had told him and remember he shouldn’t even know who Christian was. That took quite a bit of verbal gymnastics to explain, and more and more, he grew frustrated on set.

Worst of all, the rumor mill was still churning about the stupid blog post. It had been over a month, and still, people were trying to figure out who the illusive actor was. Why couldn’t they just give up and accept that it was a fake post? Not that it was, but it would make his life so much easier. And now, Jonah didn’t even have Kyle to confide in. He’d jetted off two days earlier for Bulgaria, leaving Jonah well and truly alone.

Leaving his trailer, Jonah made a beeline toward hair and makeup. A couple of the interns were grouped together, their heads down as they looked at their phones. He couldn’t catch all of what they said, but he definitely heard the words ‘actor’ and ‘bet.’ Great. Fucking great. Just what he needed was an actual bet on who the blogger’s lover was.

Sweat beaded along his forehead, even though it was cold out. By the time he got to hair and makeup, he was nearly shaking.

“Morning Jonah,” Mindy chirped. She already had the curling iron on and several palettes of makeup sitting on the counter ready to go. Taking one look at him, she frowned. “Are you feeling okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

He felt like it, too. That, or he was about to scream. Possibly both. “I’m okay,” he lied. “Just didn’t sleep well last night. I think I might be coming down with something.”

“You better not be,” Mindy said lightly. “The last thing we need is an outbreak of something on set.”

Wasn’t that the truth. If one person was sick on set, that could very easily turn into dozens of people sick on set, and then they would all be miserable. Fortunately, Jonah’s illness wasn’t one that could be transmitted.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, waving her off. “I just need a nap or something.”

That ‘or something’ being the opportunity to run away and never be seen again.

Mindy nodded. “Good. Take care of yourself. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

He did his best to smile. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

Hair and makeup didn’t take long, only about an hour. Considering the sci-fi film he’d done that had taken four hours every single day, that was a blessing. He changed into his wardrobe and made his way to set.

Most of the cast and crew were already there, waiting around. Several of them were staring at their phones, and a jolt of terror ran through Jonah’s veins. Had they bet on who the actor was, too? Did any of them suspect him? His breath hitched, and he had to force himself to exhale. It wouldn’t do to get worked up just before filming. He needed to be in the zone. Grabbing his earbuds from his pocket, he stuck them in to his phone and pulled up his focus playlist. There. Much better.

* * *

“Cut!”

Jonah gritted his teeth as the director made the call. Granted it was the right one. He’d flubbed nearly every line in the scene, though he’d done his best to correct himself. Apparently that wasn’t good enough.

“Jonah, a word?” Jackson called.

Oh god. They were going to fire him. Tiptoeing around his sexuality would be his downfall after all, no matter how much he was trying to stop it. He made his way off set, feeling very much like a dog with his tail between his legs.

“What the hell is going on up there?” Jackson asked, as soon as Jonah was close enough. “You’re dropping lines, you’re missing your marks, and if I replaced you with a wooden plank, I don’t think anyone would be able to tell the difference.”

Jonah winced. Those were all valid criticisms, ones he’d noticed about himself. It was one thing to forget lines. Everyone could forget lines. But when he couldn’t convincingly portray the character he was meant to be acting, that was a problem.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a sigh. “It’s…”

What was he even supposed to say? That he was under a lot of stress? They were all under a lot of stress. That wasn’t unusual. That was just life as an actor. And he couldn’t very well explain the situation with Christian. It would spread like wildfire through the set and he wouldn’t be able to contain it.

“It’s what, Jonah?”

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” he said lamely.

Jackson laughed incredulously. “You didn’t sleep well last night? Suck it up. I haven’t slept well since nineteen ninety-four. Get your head out of your ass and back in the script.”

Something felt like it was bursting inside of Jonah. Like if he didn’t talk to someone who understood what was going on, he was going to die. His heart beat loudly in his ears, and the room spun.

“No,” he said.

“No? No, what?”

“No. I can’t do this today. I need to talk to my agent.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jackson raised both eyebrows. “You’re seriously pulling the agent card?”

“I need to talk to my agent,” he said again. It seemed to be the only thing he could say.

“Fine. Fucking fine. I’ll give you today, but I swear to god, if this becomes a thing, you won’t like the consequences. You don’t want to be known as one of those coddled princesses who screams for their agent when they have a bad day.”

Jonah didn’t respond, instead stumbling to his trailer. He didn’t even make it inside before sending off a text to Aspen.

Jonah: I need you on set.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Jonah didn’t have time to move before it opened, revealing Aspen in a sleek red pantsuit, her hair pulled up into a bun so tight it had to be giving her a headache.

“What’s going on? You look horrible. Dear god tell me you haven’t overdosed. That’s just what I need this week.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ve never touched the stuff.”

“Good. Don’t.” Walking over to the booth across from his couch, she sat down gingerly. “So what’s wrong? Jackson’s about to stroke out and you didn’t give me a lot to go on. Did something happen on set?”

“No.” It seemed so stupid now. Such a trivial thing to call his agent for. But she was the only one who understood the situation he was in, and he needed someone to confide in who would be able to talk to him as a third-party observer. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep lying.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Christian’s here. He’s here and we’ve been seeing each other, and I don’t want to stop, but I can’t deal with the secrecy anymore.”

Aspen blinked quickly, her lips parted. “Christian’s here. In LA. And you’ve been seeing him even though I explicitly told you not to contact him.”

“In my defense, he contacted me.”

“That’s not any better,” she said, her voice rising an octave. “I told you not to contact him for your own benefit. This is exactly the position I didn’t want you to end up in. Look at yourself. You’re on the verge of a breakdown all because of a rumor that doesn’t point back to you in the first place. I was under the impression most people thought it was Kyle Keaton, or is that not the case anymore?”

“Sure, he’s playing it up for now, but how long before someone finds out? There’s an entire betting pool on which celebrity is at the heart of the blog post. I don’t… I don’t fucking need this right now.”

He’d done everything right over the course of his career—he’d gotten an agent, met all the right people, gone on dates he hated, all to get to where he was. And now it felt like the house he’d built with concrete was made out of playing cards, ready to collapse with the smallest wind.

“No one needs this right now, but it won’t do anyone any good to throw a tantrum,” Aspen said firmly. “You’re not a child. We need to think about this logically.”

Because that was so easy to do when every fiber of his being was telling him to scream. “Okay fine. What do you suggest?”

“Well, for starters, you stop seeing Christian.” Jonah started to protest, but she ignored him. “I don’t care how much you like him. I don’t care if you love him. I don’t even care if you think he’s your soulmate. The more time you spend with him, the higher the chance that someone’s going to get a photograph of you two.”

“We haven’t even been out together.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Aspen let out a slow breath. “Do you not see how that’s worse? If a photographer gets a picture of him coming out of your apartment, that’s it. You’re done for. There will be no announcing it to the world on your own terms. The story will break and all we’ll be able to do is damage control.”

Jonah considered that carefully. The most important thing to him was being able to come out on his own terms. And if being with Christian put that in jeopardy, he didn’t see how they could continue what they were doing. But at the same time, if he gave Christian up, what was the point of even coming out?

“I… I care about him. A lot. More than I think I’ve ever cared about anyone I’ve ever been with.”

Aspen eyed him carefully, and Jonah felt as though she were looking into the very depths of his soul. “Jonah, do you want to come out? Publicly?”

That was a question he’d asked himself more times than he could count, but no one else had. For the first time, it felt like Aspen was actually listening to him instead of trying to plan what he was going to do and say. There was only one problem—he didn’t know what he wanted.

“I don’t know,” he said, staring at his hands. “I’m scared of what it’ll do to my career. You know how hard I’ve worked to get to where I am.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’ll ruin your career. Hollywood’s full of gay actors and it hasn’t seemed to hurt any of them. You’ve got everyone from Matt Bomer to Zachary Quinto, to Colton Haynes and they’re all successful.”

“But I’m not gay. I’m bi. And I feel like it’s just going to be this big thing.” He sighed. “If I date a guy, people are going to say I’m gay, but if Christian and I don’t work out and I start dating a girl, then they’ll say it was just a publicity stunt or something equally as ridiculous.”

Sure he was getting leading roles now, but that was because his fans adored him. If they turned on him because of something he said or did, that could lead to boycotts of his movies, and then no one would want to cast him. He would be seen as a hazard, rather than an asset.

“I doubt that would happen, but I understand your worry. What if we just… put it off? We didn’t talk about it, we didn’t address it until after the press tour for Alpha Flight. Then after that’s done, we can release a statement. I’ll even let you help me write it,” she said with a small smile.

“I’m just worried that someone’s going to figure it out before then.”

Reaching over, she patted him on the knee. “You leave that to me. I’ll send everyone on a goose chase so wild they’ll be blown away when you make your announcement.” Knowing Aspen, she probably would.

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Okay. That sounds like a plan.” His chest felt lighter than when she’d shown up, and he found he could actually breathe again. As much shit as he gave her, she did her job well. He cleared his throat and looked up at her. “Um, Aspen? Thank you.”

“Of course. I know what it’s like to have to keep that part of yourself a secret. If you’re not careful, it’ll eat you alive.”

Jonah frowned. “Wait, you’re…”

“Surprise. I’ll have to introduce you to my wife one day.”

Sitting back against the sofa cushion, he let out an incredulous laugh. Well then. It seemed like he had more in common with her than he thought.