If It Weren't For the Two of Us is working its way to its conclusion. I appreciate all the readers who have stayed with the story.

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43

 

"Good morning. You're on the air with Ed, Tara and Trent," Ed said to the caller.

"Hi, my name is Jazmine," the caller said. "I just wanted to wish Trent good luck on the opening of his play this weekend."

"Well, thank you Jazmine. While, yes, I am the playwright, it really is the university's production. But I'm glad you are excited. What night are you coming?"

"Actually, at first it was sold out. When they opened up a new matinee showing on Sunday, I was able to get the day show."

"Well, thank you for your support."

"So, Trent, are you nervous?" my co-anchor asked.

"Very. I mean, I'm proud of the play. I really am. But some things strike deep, so I just wonder how it will come off and how the audience will relate to the subject matter."

"Well, we're proud of you, Trent," said Ed. "And so should the university. For the first time ever, The Showcase has had to add two performances."

"Well, being on a daily radio show kind of helps that," I said with a chuckle. "It's a bit of free publicity."

"Well, just enjoy the buzz, my friend," Tara said. "We're excited to be at the first performance with you."

"I think half the station is," said Ed.

"I'm delighted you will be there. Now fingers are crossed I won't need you for moral support."

After The Morning Show ended, I admitted to my co-anchors that the weekend would be scary. I was so proud, but really terrified. I imagined most artists went through this.

Zach said he would meet me for lunch. He had two hours between classes today. We met at Jake's. He was there first and gave me a hug when I walked in.

"It's nice to see you, Trent," he said.

"And you. How are your classes? I remember what it was like when March arrived. Once you get back from spring break, graduation will seem in your grasp."

"I am so ready."

"Everything going well?"

"Yeah. Quite well. I try to listen to you on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"You're kind. Thank you. It was kind of a whirlwind getting to be a third anchor. It's only been about six weeks, but I love it. I had filled in for both Ed and Tara when they were off, and listeners were calling and writing in to make me a regular."

"You're a star."

I laughed out loud. "Hardly."

We got our sandwiches. I had to eat fairly quickly.

"I wanted to talk to you before the play this weekend. Are you coming?" I asked.

"I have tickets for Saturday night."

"We've talked about it in the past, but I really want to make sure you understand that one of the characters is based on some things you had to face, but I in no way am saying it is supposed to be you."

"I know. I get it."

"I hope it isn't hard for you to watch."

"Actually, I'm a bit intrigued on how it will play out."

I was truly concerned if Zach would be okay with it. Feeling like your parents didn't love you, but only took care of you out of obligation had to be tough. Tough! How tough would it be to watch it portrayed? I wondered if he was coming with anyone. To be honest, how hard was it going to be for me to watch my own family struggles performed on stage? As we finished our lunches, I approached a different subject.

"Have you performed any weddings as a youth minister? Are you able to do that?"

"Yes. One. It isn't difficult to become an officiant. I actually went through the process for two friends at the church."

"Would you be willing to marry two men?"

"Are you asking ME to perform your wedding?"

"Actually ... I am. I'd like you to do it. But ... I didn't know if your church would allow it."

"Well, we couldn't do it in the church building, that's for sure. But I don't think I could get in trouble for performing a legal marriage. I probably won't spread it around a lot. Keeping it quiet might be advisable on my part."

"Okay. You have my number. Think about it. But you are my first choice."

"I'm honored. Thanks. I will let you know soon."

 

—

 

Tariq and Amanda met Mike and me for dinner. We invited them to the house. They hadn't been over since Friendsgiving.

I had a similar conversation with him. The character based on his circumstances dies at the end. I wanted him to know that up front and to not read anything into it.

"I understand. I'll be interested to see how you portray our situation," he said.

"Sure. Just know it isn't biographical or anything. It's just details that define that character."

"It's all good, brother. I'm just very proud of you. The Showcase and now I hear you are on the radio. You're amazing."

"Oh please." I turned red. "But thanks."

"I kind of think he's amazing too. We're getting married if you hadn't heard," said Mike.

"I hadn't!!" Amanda screamed. "Congratulations!"

The rest of the evening was wonderful. I loved catching up with Tariq. If his parents were to see the play, I think they'd have problems. But they live too far away. Racial topics are always sensitive. I was just glad the two of them were still strong in their relationship even though Tariq's family didn't approve.

Of course, one character is based on me.

I had been very forthcoming with Dad. He knew his and my situation would be onstage for everyone to see this weekend. He accepted that.

I was invited to dress rehearsal tomorrow. I had seen a couple practices when the stage sets were done and when they began blocking the scenes. I felt comfortable with how they handled my script. Because of the talk show, the university — especially the theater department — was extraordinarily happy with ticket sales and the exposure the campus was getting.

Now, I just hoped it wasn't a flop.

 

—

 

I returned home Thursday night from the dress rehearsal. Mike met me at the door.

"Well?"

"It's good."

"Buuuut ...??"

"No buts. Really, it's good. Or at least I like it. I think the department has done a great job."

"Aaaaand ...?"

"There's one scene I just pictured differently, but how they interpreted it works very well. Overall I am very happy. Now if the ticket holders are, I'll be happier."

He gave me a kiss.

"It will be a hit. I can't wait to see it tomorrow night."

"Should I shave for opening night? Or keep the beard?" I asked Mike.

"You know I like you both ways. The beard makes you look a tad older. Do you want to be a young playwright or a mature playwright?"

I laughed.

 

—

 

I had smiled at a few people before the show started. I was glad we weren't too early. I was trying so hard just to not break out into a horrifying sweat.

If I thought my heart was pounding before the show started, it was nothing compared to these last few minutes. I thought I was having a heart attack. Mike held my hand; that helped. I just felt like I couldn't breathe. When Kamron, the character based on Tariq, walks to the edge of the stage to give the final lines having just died at the end of the scene before, I knew I would hear applause. Would it be thunderous applause or a mere smattering of claps?

I was dying. I couldn't breathe at all.

"The brutal reality is we don't get to choose our family. Fate takes care of that for us. All we can do is hope that we don't fall victim to our environment, that we can take the good and filter out the bad and forge our own path." The stage lights went dark. Only a single spotlight illuminated Kamron. "It's up to each of us to create our own reality. Or to fall victim to it."

The house went dark.

It took about 10 seconds for the cast to be at the glow-in-the-dark marks at the edge of the stage. The lights came up and the crowd roared. The applause was tremendous. Mike hugged me so hard. I cried. I tried to stop, but I couldn't. It was too much. My life had just been portrayed on stage. My work had just been favorably received. I didn't know how to process it all. It must have been what an Olympian felt when they received a medal. Thankfully, I could breathe again.

Several people I knew were sitting close to me and turned to me with huge smiles. They gave me thumbs up and blew kisses.

Director McNulty joined the cast on stage. The crowd was still on its feet and continued to applaud.

After a minute, he motioned for the audience to sit.

"We are so thankful you are all here tonight. This has been a very special Showcase for us. We love spotlighting the talent that W. Travis produces. Tonight's performance of The Brutal Reality was written by one of our locals. Since graduating last May, Jeremiah Trent Kyriazi has stayed in Jackson Bend and is even heard each morning on KJBD. He's making a name for himself, and W. Travis University is proud to call him one of our own."

The audience cheered.

"Please welcome Trent Kyriazi."

Okay, I was surprised. I figured I would be asked to stand, not go up on stage. Working in radio, I certainly wasn't shy, but I didn't know what to say.

"I wasn't expecting to speak," I started. "But I thank each of you for being here tonight and for your support. I certainly thank my family and friends here this evening and ... my biggest inspiration is my fiancée, Michael Terry. He encouraged me through the whole process. Finally, I have to be completely grateful to Director McNulty and this incredible cast. Thank you."

Everyone cheered again. For someone who was dying 15 minutes ago, I felt euphoric at the moment. My skin positively tingled. If someone had touched me, sparks would have ignited.

Mike and I were invited to the cast party. I was allowed to invite 10 people, so I invited Matt and Ali, my parents, Tariq and Amanda, Lance and Jakob, and Ed and Tara.

I was showered with compliments as people filtered out of the theater. It was very rewarding, if not overwhelming.

"That. Was. Awesome!" Tara said, going in for a hug. "So powerful, so moving. Superb job, Trent!"

Ed agreed. I looked at Matt and Ali. They were beaming at me. I walked to them.

"Well? You two were in last year's production. What did you think? As a play?"

"What did we think? Please! It was amazing. The script was incredible, and we thought the cast was great," Matt said. "We are so proud of you."

Tariq and Amanda were standing behind them.

"Are you okay? Was it okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah. Dramatic. You warned me, but even I was moved," Tariq said.

Mom and Dad came over. Dear lord, how would this go?

"Well, it wasn't a comedy," Mom said.

"No. Hopefully you knew that going in," I chuckled.

Dad said nothing.

"Dad?"

He stepped toward me and wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him back.

"Please, please, please forgive me for everything," he softly said to me. "I love you son. I'm proud of you. So proud. And I'm happy for you and Mike. Please, please know that."

"I do, Dad. Thanks for being here. I knew that could be hard."

"To be one of the villains in the play?" he chuckled.

"You're not a villain. You're a human being."

"It was great, son. You did a wonderful job."

"Although I'm not sure about this beard you have going on," Mom scolded.

"Exactly!" echoed Lance. We all smiled.

We all moved to the party.

Mike, Lance and Jakob moved in on me.

"Do we finally get some time with the superstar legend?" Lance asked.

I laughed.

"Part of me was glad you hadn't met me when you wrote it, and part of me was wondering how you would have played out my life," Jakob said. "It was amazing, Trent."

I looked at Mike. He looked at me, handing me a glass of champagne.

"You are wonderful, babe. I am so, so, SO proud of you, J.T. It turned out great." He leaned in for a fast kiss.

The party was great. The cast was complimentary of me, and I praised their performances. Ed and Tara got to meet a few fans during the evening. I couldn't have hoped for a better turnout. I was scared about Dad, but he took it well. I'm sure it will continue to strike him deeply. To see your flaws pointed out on stage ... it was tough. He seemed to be enjoying the party. How weird it must be to watch your son be praised for portraying you as an ass. Of the three characters, the one based on me was the most biographical.

I told Jakob that now that this was over, he and I needed to seriously discuss wedding plans. He got excited.

After an hour, everyone started leaving for the night. As wonderful as it was, I was ready. We headed home.

Mike and I stripped down for bed.

Before turning out the last light, Mike asked, "So, does the famous playwright wish to be serviced this evening in celebration?"

"Lord no. I'm beat. All I need is a good kiss and to fall asleep in your arms."

He kissed me deeply. "I'm so proud of you, baby."

He turned out the light. I squirmed into his embrace. I felt Mike hold my dick. I was still dizzy from the night's proceedings; I don't think I could even think about anything sexual. He fell asleep fairly quickly. I was still on an adrenaline rush and stayed awake for hours.

 

—

 

The director invited me to be at all the performances. I felt five was too many. But I tried to be there for all three evenings.

I wanted to get Zach's take after he saw it. I looked for him at the Saturday night performance.

"I was really moved, Trent," he said. "Obviously, you weren't trying to be specific to my life. But you still tapped into some emotions I went through. It was very good. It kills me that Kamron dies at the end. I was almost in tears. You have really written something special."

"Thanks, Zach. That means a lot to me. I was so scared yesterday, but hearing the applause again really was affirming."

"And I've thought about it. I want to perform your wedding. I know some members of my congregation won't be thrilled about supporting same-sex marriage, but I don't plan to be vocal about it. As long as that is fine with you, it would mean a lot for me to do it."

"Fantastic. We'll be in touch then," I said.

"Hey. How is Lance? Do you still see each other?"

"He's awesome. As you know, he is ... also gay. Well, bisexual. But he's completely in love. Super happy." He apparently knew all that by the way he nodded. "Doing great at his job. Sober now for eight months. I'm really proud of him. I joined his gym when the new year started so we work out together three times a week after work. He'd love to hear from you."

"I don't know. I still don't think he liked me that much back in college."

"You'd be surprised at who Lance is now. Give him a ring sometime."

"Maybe. Thanks. Looks like other people want to visit with you. Congratulations again. A great piece of work."

We hugged.

"Hi, I'm Madeline, and this is my husband, Eugene. We listen to you in our office every day. We love The Morning Show."

"Thank you. I enjoy working with my co-anchors."

"We can tell. It's just nice to listen to you three. I love how you include things about Jackson Bend a lot. You have pride in our city."

"I do. I hope you enjoyed the play."

"Tears! I was in tears," she said. "It was so moving. Eugene has been estranged from his father for a long time; he really related to Parker. It was really good. Be proud!"

"Thank you for coming and supporting the university. And thanks for listening in the mornings."

Last night we had attended the opening night party. Tonight I was able to hear more from the audience. What a great opportunity to interact and hear what they had to say. After about 30 minutes, the theater had cleared.

 

—

 

Following the final performance, I was called to the stage one last time. As I said a few words with the director, I could see a few rows out into the audience. I could see Teresa and Mrs. Morgan. They saw my delighted surprise.

"Hey! What a treat to see you!" I said once off the stage. "How are you?"

"We're good. Trent, I want you to meet my husband, George Morgan."

"Hello. It's nice to meet you," I lied. "I love your son. Jakob is a wonderful man. You raised him to be very honest and kind."

"Um. Thank you. It was a very emotional play," he said.

"It was great," Teresa said. "You are an incredible writer."

"Thank you. The director and cast did an amazing job."

I shifted the conversation.

"Jakob seems to love his new job. I'm happy for him."

"Oh, I know!" his mother said. "What a good fit. I do worry he works too hard with the two jobs, but he does seem very happy."

"He does, doesn't he? I've even asked him to help with our wedding."

Mr. Morgan squirmed, shifting his weight.

"It's wonderful to see you. Will you come to Friendsgiving again this fall?"

"Oh, we'd love to," both ladies said.

"You're welcome too, Mr. Morgan," I made sure to say.

 

March 7

Only a page left in this journal, but certainly this warrants an entry. This has been an amazing weekend. All the notes scribbled in the back half of this journal finally saw life on stage. Unreal.

I cannot believe the outpouring of support and compliments. It was overwhelming. What a rewarding feeling. I am truly humbled.

 

—

 

"Good morning! Welcome to The 10:00 Morning Show with Ed, Tara and Trent," Ed began. "There's only one topic here: our superstar Trent Kyriazi."

"The Brutal Reality was totally amazing, Trent. What a huge success all around. How are you feeling?" Tara followed.

"Slightly overwhelmed. I'm so pleased to have had the opportunity to meet many of our listeners. That was wonderful. I can't thank you all enough for coming out and supporting the university."

"You're humble, Trent. They came to support you," Ed said. "What are you feeling now? A sense of relief? Of pride? Of satisfaction?"

"I guess all of that. I truly confess that I was really scared going into Friday's performance."

"Seriously? Why?" Tara asked.

"I imagine any artist feels some anxiety. But, wow, that all went away Friday night. I took a deep breath at the end of the night."

"Well the phones are lit up. We have a lot of callers today. We'll get to them shortly," Ed said.

And we did. It was nice, if not a little embarrassing, to hear so many supportive callers. Several of them related similar experiences they had been through. They found it therapeutic. Others just thought it was a very emotional work of art. Many congratulated me for standing tall with my father. Although it was never stated that part of the play was based on me, it wasn't hard to figure out.

Then one caller came through.

"Hi, Trent. While I thought your play was well written, I wanted you to know that not everyone agrees with your stance on homosexuality. The father was written as a villain. I don't think that is fair to someone who just holds onto traditional values."

Ed and Tara looked enraged. I waved at them to know I was fine.

"I'm familiar with your point of view, sir. Please know that my intention was not to write anyone as villains, but I wanted my characters to be real people. All of these things are what real people have had to go through. I just wanted people to see all those emotions out there, laid bare."

"I guess I can see that. But I still don't think it's okay to be gay."

"And everyone has a right to their own opinion. I support that, sir. But please know, okay or not, I am gay. It's the way I was born. It's who I am."

"And you are awesome, Trent," Tara interjected. "You are a beautiful person."

"And thank heavens for diversity," Ed said. "Certainly, sir, you don't expect every person to be exactly alike. Do you?"

"Well, not exactly. But I think everyone should live appropriately."

"And I firmly believe that I am a person of true, moral character," I said. "Might I suggest you ask yourself if you feel that not only should I not be able to love anybody, but that I also cannot be loved. If that is what you truly feel, then you are wishing me a dark, lonely, bitter life. Is that what you want for the gay people in our city?"

He hung up.

"Don't listen to him, Trent," Ed said, "You are a phenomenal human being."

"I'm not upset. I just don't think this gentlemen has fully thought it all through. Asking someone to not be gay is like asking someone short to not be short. It is what I am; it's how I'm born. I just encourage people with differing opinions to be willing to agree to disagree, but still find the good in people."

"Completely," said Tara. "We'll take a break, and when we come back, we will take a look at the upcoming arts festival in Jackson Bend."

During the break, Ed and Tara were livid, but I told them not to be. It was nothing new. By the end of the hour, even though we had moved on to other topics, callers still phoned in to offer me support. It was rewarding.

 

—

 

Three weeks later, I was called to the university. I was perplexed. I went into the Dean's office. Director McNulty was in there waiting. Uh oh. What had gone wrong? Were there criticisms? There was also someone I didn't know.

"Good morning, Trent. You know Professor McNulty. This is our legal representative, Gary Thurman. He shook my hand.

A legal representative?! Crap. What happened? My heart started pounding that I had caused something bad for the university.

Another gentleman walked in. He was introduced as a Mr. Curtis from a theater company I had not heard of.

 

 

March 25

I'm floored. My play was bought. A theater production company approached me for the rights to it. I'm stunned. My hand is almost shaking writing this. I just can't believe it.

 

"That's amazing!! Oh my gosh! I am so proud of you, baby," Mike said, picking me up and whirling me around. "That's incredible. You're incredible."

"It's a sign. Let's get the house."

 

* * * *

 

Look for a post on the blog, timothylane414stories.blogspot.com titled: "The Showcase."

Email: timothylane414@gmail.com

Only two chapters left!