Date: Thu, 13 May 2010 09:49:43 -0500 From: Joseph Biggers Subject: Max Thieriot and Allan Hyde, Chapter 1 "Max Thieriot and Allan Hyde" by Joseph Biggers Disclaimer: This story is entirely fiction. I do not know Max Thieriot or Allan Hyde and this story is not meant to be an actual depiction of either of their lives. I do not make claim to know their true sexuality nor is this story intended to imply that either of them are actually homosexual. Forward Note: This story is told through the first person from Max Thieriot's point of view. Have any questions, comments, criticism, or insults? Contact me at josephbiggers@gmail.com Chapter 1 It was four in the afternoon and I was sick, very sick. I was far from home on the opposite coast and it had just started raining in New York City. I was completely miserable, and completely alone. The symptoms started when I was still at home in LA, but I came anyway. I had three hours until I had to be at the premiere for my latest movie, and I just wanted to die rather than feel like that. I was chilled to the bone with some strain of flu, so I took my third soap-less shower of the day. I stood in the hot water and loved it for warming me, it was the only way I had been able to escape this cold. Tonight is the premiere for "Chloe" and of course it was my luck to feel like this. For the first time, I felt like I finally got a more adult role, something more noteworthy, something to shed the skin of a child, and I would arrive at its premiere with a pocketful of tissue and drugged out of my mind with cold medications. After my shower I laid down for another thirty minutes, not sleeping but staring at the alarm clock on the night stand. I laid naked for fear of getting sweaty again, wondering when this was going to pass. A part of me wished that I had someone, anyone to coddle me and tell me that everything was going to be fine but I was alone as I've always been. Before getting dressed I took another shower to ensure I didn't also smell like a sick person. The car company called to inform me that they would arrive in front of my hotel in ten minutes so I swallowed some more nyquil and stuffed some cough drops in my pocket. I waited in front of the hotel for longer than ten minutes. I sat on a bench with my head resting in my hands, daring not to close my eyes out of fear of dizziness. Last thing I needed was to get sick in front of all these strangers. The car finally arrived and I got in the black sedan before the driver could run around and open the door. As I sat concentrating on the street before us, I realized the liquor compartment was open and the smell was nauseating. I quickly closed it and for the remaining fifteen minutes I psyched myself up for putting on appearances tonight. I arrived at the theater, one car after Julianne Moore. I escorted her into the theater and as we walked a hundred flashing lights just made me dizzier than I've ever been. "Are you okay sweetie?" Julianne asked as we entered past the box office. "I'll be fine," I answered her question removing another cough drop and some tissue from my right pocket. "Oh I see," she added realizing that I was sick. "Of all the nights," I said in disbelief. "Heads up kiddo, it'll pass," she reassured me with a wink. We parted ways and I was interviewed by a few members of the press. Before the movie began I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I hoped that if I was going to get sick I would do it now as opposed to running off in the middle of the film. I thoroughly blew my nose and stuffed two more cough drops into my mouth. I washed my hands, took one glance at the mirror and headed for the door. As I reached for the handle, the door unexpectedly flung open and smashed into my hand. I backed up cradling my hand and accessing it for damage. "I'm so sorry." A males voice pleaded before he ran for a stall. Realizing that my hand was bleeding I turned back for the sink and retrieved more tissue from my pocket. As I did this the person who just entered was in the stall getting sick. "It's okay." I said as I wiped blood from everywhere but the wound itself. He came out of the stall and I did not look at him but instead studied my finger to make sure it was done bleeding. "Is it okay?" He asked with a slight accent. "Yes its just a little..." I looked up in the mirror to see him standing behind me. It took me by surprise and I did not finish my sentence. He was shorter than me and his face appeared not skinny, but not fat either. He had brown hair, dark brown. The softest eyes I had seen on a man. He looked familiar, but I didn't know from where. He was very cute, and I was instantly attracted to him. "I really did not mean to hurt you, and I'm sorry you had to hear that," he said. "No really, I understand." "But now your finger is hurt." "It's okay, worse things have happened." I reassured him. I stood there for a moment, staring at him in the mirror, probably for too long. Feeling embarrassed I immediately left the bathroom and headed for the theater. Once inside I found an area in the middle with three empty seats and sat in the middle one. I'm sure they had a special spot picked out for me but since the movie's beginning credits were already starting I did not go out of my way to bother with it. After a few moments I could see someone coming out of the corner of my eye, most likely for the seat next to mine. I did not look at who it was as he sat next to me. "Hello again." I heard him whisper in his cute accent. I looked to see that it was the guy from the bathroom. "Hi." I quickly said. I wanted to say more, but the movie had already started. I wanted to say more, but I didn't know what to say. During parts of the movie I observed him without full on staring at him. It was hard to tell if he was skinny or not. When I observed his arms they seemed to have a bit of muscle. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath he took. He started coughing at one point and I quickly gave him two cough drops. "Thank you." I continued to balance my observations between him and the movie, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. It was almost like an instant obsession. There's probably no such thing as love at first sight, but this was a definite infatuation before knowing who or what I was infatuated with. The idea kind of scared me but I decided to just go with it regardless. After the movie I was invited on stage by the director and joined with the rest of the cast as we were applauded. I noticed that the guy from the bathroom left during this part of the show. Immediately I was upset. He left without even giving me his name. I was already bothered that I didn't know who he was but I recognized him the moment I saw him. It was like I already knew him, and knew him well. Everything was over within the next five minutes and the lights, the heat, the nervousness, all made me feel sick. I quickly walked for the bathroom, the whole time telling myself to keep it together, trying not to run out of embarrassment. As soon as I was inside, I threw up horrifically. I wanted to sit down, I wanted to lye down, but could not do so, there was nowhere to sit and nowhere to lay. Nowhere comfortable, at least not in a public bathroom. I heard the stall next to me open and I looked through the crease where the door meets the stall to see him there, standing at the sink. I was ashamed that he heard my regurgitation's. At first I did not want to leave the stall, but what got me through the door was the want, or need to not let him go without getting to know him. "Sorry you had to hear that." I apologized. "That is exactly what I was here for." He responded. I swished some water around in my mouth and put in another cough drop. Carefully checked the mirror to ensure that I did not get any of it on me, as gross as it sounds. "I guess this makes two of us," I added. "I started feeling it before I left LA and thought I should stay home, but I wanted to be here for this." he informed me. "So you're from LA?" "Denmark actually, but I live in LA, and you?" "Born and raised in California, but now I live in Manhattan Beach, I was wondering about your accent." "English is not my first language." "Well you speak it well." I complemented him. "Thank you." He responded. We departed the bathroom and returned to the lobby where an after party had begun. I still felt extremely ill but somehow had the strength to carry on as if I were not. "I know you from somewhere, I just don't know from where." I admitted. "Do you?" "Yes!" I sat for a moment contemplating where it was I knew him from. "I'm in the show..." "Wait don't tell me, I'll get this eventually." He just smiled at my attempt of thinking. For a moment I feared that he thought I was annoying, but the continuous smile on his face told me otherwise. "Oh I got it!" I said with excitement. "Do you?" "Yes...Godric." "Actually, my name is Allan, Allan Hyde" he corrected me. I put out my hand and responded, " Nice to meet you Allan, my name is Max, Max Thie..." "I know who you are." He said with a growing smile. "Do you want to get a drink?" I asked him. "Yes but, in this country I am not yet old enough to do that myself." He replied. "How old are you?" I asked him, afraid that he might be too young. "Twenty." He answered setting my doubt at ease. "I turned twenty one last year. What are you drinking?" I asked him. At first we drank one, than two. On cocktail number three I began to feel horrible. What a major mistake mixing the flu with alcohol, with nyquil, with cough drops. I excused myself for the bathroom and got sick again. I was feeling extremely dizzy and figured it was time to go. "Is everything okay?" My new friend asked as I departed the stall. "I really don't feel good." I said to him. I braced myself on the sink, holding myself up as chills ran up and down my spine. I could feel myself sweating although I was extremely cold. "I don't think I can go back out there, not like this." I explained. "I know, there is a side door, we can leave from the bathroom and immediately exit the building through that door." He responded. To this I just nodded my head. My memory from this point becomes kind of vague. I remember him helping me walk to the side door. I remember him sitting me down on a cement curb in the alley, then I remember my sedan pulling up. He was with me in the car, and helped me up to my room. The last thing I remember was falling face first into my bed, and that was it. The following morning I woke up to the brightness of the sun shining in my room. I noticed I was still in the clothes I wore the night before and having cold sweats I immediately had to take them off. First the tie, then the dress shirt, then the undershirt. Then my pants. I was at my suitcase looking for alternate clothes, standing there in my boxers. "Good morning." His voice caught me by complete surprise. I ripped the blanket from the bed and used it to cover myself. Lying on the couch, covered with a small blanket was Allan. "I hope you don't mind, I was starting to feel like you did when I decided to leave and go back to my hotel, and I could barely walk." He explained. "No it's okay." I lied. Honestly it was kind of weird, not that he stayed, but that he saw me bent over in my boxers. "Would you mind?" I asked him. "Oh...of course," he complied and rolled over to his other side so that he was laying facing the back of the couch with his back to me. I let the blanket fall to the floor and removed my boxers so that I was completely nude. "When are you going back to LA?" He asked me with a voice muffled by the cloth of the couch. "Today actually, my flight leaves at three ten." "Mine does too, did you fly united?" "Yes I did." "Then we'll be on the same plane." At this point I was in boxers and a tank top so I just put on a pair of pajama pants and sat in the bed. "How are you feeling?" I asked him. "I feel much better than I have in days, how about you?" "I still feel absolutely terrible." "Well then maybe you should lye down." "No I'll be fine." We sat for a moment in awkward silence. "Should I leave you?" He asked. "No not at all, please stay." Immediately the air grew dense and I realized I may have crossed a line with him. "I mean if you want you can go, but it wouldn't be a problem if you stayed," I corrected myself. "It's okay." He reassured me again. "You can turn around now," I advised him. He rolled over on the couch and sat up. He removed the blanket to reveal that he was only in boxers and a t-shirt. I didn't stare but believe me when I say I wanted to. I offered him a pair of pajama pants but he declined and went for the bath room with his pants in hand. "I really should be going." He said after coming out of the bathroom. I was sad to hear this but reluctantly said, "okay." After all we barely knew each other and it would be wrong of me to ask him to stay again. "Do you think it would be okay if we hung out sometime?" I asked him, extremely nervous but doubtful of rejection. "That would be great," he said with a smile. We traded cell phones and put our numbers in each other phone. With that he left my room and I laid down on the bed staring at the ceiling. I should have said something. I should have said more. I should have made a move. That's how it goes, me with a list of things I should have done. But I still had the flight this afternoon, I was sure I would see him then.