Date: Sun, 25 Mar 2018 19:08:54 -0700
From: christopher <breakingthroughstory@gmail.com>
Subject: Breaking Through 13

A very big thank you to all of the readers who have taken the time to send
kind messages for the first chapters of the story. I very much appreciate
it. Please send any feedback, complaints, and correspondence to
breakingthroughstory@gmail.com.

The usual disclaimers apply. This is fiction.

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Chapter 13

Armie loved driving. He felt free on the road, even when it was more
stop-and-go than long, winding stretches of asphalt. He gripped the wheel
with his hand and zoomed down Pacific Coast Highway, smiling when he saw
the speedometer climb up. With so much of his life under the tightest
schedules, it felt amazing to just cruise down the coast, with the ocean on
one side, sun setting and painting the sky in bright orange. To show his
appreciation for a key to The Castle, Chris had gifted Armie with a few
hours at the Porsche test track just outside of L.A. That was real driving,
Armie thought: no speed limits and cars built to hug the road. It was
something he'd never forget. "There are miles to go before we're done,"
Chris had written in the card.

But now, as he drove down the eucalyptus-scented streets of Venice Beach,
there was definitely a speed limit--25 miles per hour--and reason to keep
his urges to push his Tesla to the limits under wraps. Chris was asleep in
the passenger's seat. No matter how long or short the drive, he had the
enviable ability to sleep in the car, something Armie could hardly
comprehend, especially since coffee basically ran through his veins. He
reached over and held Chris' hand, hoping that the touch would be enough to
wake Chris up, but he had no such luck.

"Almost home," Armie said, running his hands up Chris' forearm. "You with
me?"

"Are the movers still working?" Chris said, his voice gravely.

"Nope," Armie said as he pulled into the driveway. Chris' car, which took
up the only spot in the carport, was covered in a thin layer of dust and
leaves. Armie made a mental note to get it washed.

"That's good news," Chris said, straightening himself in the car seat. He
looked over at Armie, his strong jaw and the hints of gold in his hair
enhanced by the light coming through the driver's-side window and
smiled. "You're so brown."

"That's what happens when you fall asleep at the pool," Armie said,
shutting off the car. Chris went around to grab their suitcases from the
trunk and Armie helped him carry them to the front door, carefully treading
on the gravel driveway. "Home sweet home," he said. It was the very first
day he could call the house his home. They'd spent the weekend in Palm
Springs, partly to promote the film at the city's film festival and partly
to have professional movers bring most of Armie's things to the house that
they were now sharing. The entire weekend, Chris talked about Armie giving
up his huge house, his family's house, but Armie didn't see it that way. He
was starting over, he said. He wouldn't miss the house. He'd miss out on
more if he stayed there, he insisted. Chris was still trying to believe it.

"Oh man," Chris said as he walked into the house. The movers had filled the
entryway and living room with boxes. "I thought you said you were just
bringing your clothes." Armie's brother, Viktor, was moving into The Castle
with his fiancee. Armie left all the furniture there for the two of them,
whether they wanted it or not.

"Don't exaggerate," Armie said, already walking past the mess and heading
upstairs with their bags. "It's not that much."

"I'll start opening these boxes," Chris said, already overwhelmed. He tore
open one of the boxes, which really was just clothes. It was almost
voyeuristic, Chris thought. Opening another revealed shoes. Another looked
like the contents of Armie's bathroom cabinets. Clothes. More clothes.

Thinking back to the day at his old place where Chris told him about what
had transpired with Jake, the same night that he asked Chris if they could
live together, Armie should have expected some trepidation. From everything
he'd learned about Chris, he could tell there was an independent streak
under the nervousness and shy demeanor. It was obvious, though, that there
was a clear dependence on Jake once he entered the picture. That was a long
time ago, Armie had to remind himself, and Chris had done some growing
up. He was in his 20s when he met Jake. The thought of that alone was
enough to give Armie pause. There was no wonder he was taking everything so
slow this time. Mistakes were made all around. Chris was doing his best to
learn from them, not repeat them.

Chris' upstairs closet had more than enough room for Armie's
things. Slowly, the two of them moved the boxes upstairs, Armie sharing a
few stories about how most of his clothes were taken from sets, how hard it
was for him to find things that actually fit, and how devastating it was
for him to have to send back his suits and tuxedos after big events. His
stylist, who Chris had met on a few occasions, helped Armie with his
everyday clothes, too. Chris found out that the polish and leading-man
presentation was manufactured, but it had more to do with Armie's laziness
when it came to shopping than about impressing people. He couldn't be
bothered to actually shop for himself and his management team preferred
that he look kempt. It was worth keeping a big-name stylist on retainer.

Armie hadn't spent much time in Chris' walk-in. He had a drawer, which
expanded to two pretty quickly when things got serious, but he was mostly
in and out of the space. Chris kept things organized, which wasn't
surprising. Adding his things to one side, Armie straightened a few of
Chris' shoes. He slid open a drawer and didn't find anything out of the
ordinary. Armie's brow furrowed when he saw a small wooden box in Chris'
underwear drawer and he blinked a few times when he opened it to see Chris'
wedding band nestled inside. It was scratched and dull, but heavy in
Armie's hand. He remembered seeing Chris wear it on a long necklace,
something that didn't even show under his shirts, but couldn't recall the
last time Chris was wearing it. It had either been a very long time or
Armie had just decided to block it from is memory. He slipped the box back
where he found it and inspected his side of the closet. For now, it would
do.

"Everything fit in?" Chris asked as he was fiddling with his phone. He'd
been sitting in the bedroom armchair, just a few steps away from the closet
door.

"All good," Armie said, leaning down to kiss the top of Chris' head. "I
thought you were napping, but then I remembered you did that in the car."

"I put your books on the bookcase downstairs," Chris said. "And some of
your other stuff in the office."

"Appreciate it," Armie said as he flopped down on the bed. "Are you
worried?"

"When I get sick of you, I'll just drown myself in the canal," Chris joked.

"Then, I'll start a podcast about your tragic, gone-too-soon story."

"Perfect plan," Chris said, finally setting his phone down and getting on
the bed with Armie. He snuggled up next to Armie, wrapping an arm around
his chest and fitting their bodies together. "So far so good."

Living together wasn't hard for either of them. Armie had spent so much
time at the house that the transition wasn't a transition at all. Chris
couldn't remember how it was when he'd moved in with Jake, but there was
the faint inclination that it was more of a tectonic shift. Just a few days
after the boxes had been unpacked, Chris bounded up the stairs to find an
open suitcase on the bedroom floor.

"Did Ilaria drop something off?" Chris asked, confused. Ahead of an event,
Armie's stylist, Ilaria, usually sent over clothes for him to wear. Chris
had seen rolling racks and lots of shoes strewn around Armie's bedroom back
at The Castle.

"We're going to Utah tomorrow," Armie said, nonplussed. He was flipping
through a binder that came along with the clothes, showing exactly what
went with what for each event on Armie's schedule. "Sundance."

Chris sat down on the bed, making sure he didn't miss anything on his own
itinerary. He tapped at his phone and glanced at his email. Nothing. He
remembered the film-festival circuit with Jake: long hours at the hotel by
himself while Jake had promotional events. It was worse if Jake was on the
judging panel. Then, at night, after Chris had spent the day wandering a
new city by himself or eating room service alone, they'd go to parties
where he felt out of place. It was too much jammed into a weekend and it
was definitely not anyone normal's idea of fun. It was work, all dressed up
to look like a nonstop party, but it was hard work.

Just the week before, in Palm Springs, Chris had spent most of his time at
the pool while Armie worked for most of the day. Some people would see it
as paradise, Chris figured he could have done something similar at home.

"I'm not going," he said, relieved.

"Stop. Of course you are, you're my plus one."

"I'm actually not. I don't want to and I'm not scheduled to."

Armie stopped his shuffling and sat down on the floor, surrounded by
plastic garment bags. "I don't understand."

"You go. I stay home. What's not to understand?"

"Why are you fighting me on this? I want you there."

"We're not fighting."

"What is this, then?"

"A scheduling conflict? Work-life un-balance? I don't know what you want me
to say."

"I want you to be excited about going to the Sundance Film Festival with
your boyfriend."

Chris paused, looking at Armie's sad blue eyes combined with his look of
confusion. Who wouldn't want to go to the Sundance Film Festival? Armie
couldn't imagine anyone who would pass up a chance like this. "Can you call
Debbie and get me a plane ticket? Is it too late?" Debbie, Armie's agent,
didn't care so much for their relationship and all the baggage that came
with it. Chris didn't want to push it with her. If Armie wanted him to go,
he'd have to do some legwork.

"We're flying private. There's room for you."

"I should pack then," Chris said, getting up off the bed.

Armie reached for his hand and pulled him down to the floor as he walked
by. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Ask me on Sunday."

Armie rolled over on top of Chris, ignoring the suits and sweaters on the
floor. Pinning him down on the carpet, Armie looked triumphant. "What's
going on? We're on the same team here."

"I know. I'm sorry," Chris said. "I felt left out, I guess." He hoped Armie
would believe that little lie.

"I doubt anyone anywhere wouldn't want you around." He leaned down and gave
Chris a kiss. "I wouldn't be able to be away from you all weekend."

"Will you pack for me?"

"My pleasure."

Chris wasn't entirely wrong yet. After landing in Salt Lake City, Armie and
Chris said their goodbyes to the team from the movie, who shared the tiny,
but luxurious, plane from LAX. True to form, Chris fell asleep in the
chartered car, making the half-hour drive a particularly quiet one for
Armie. "Remember in Palm Springs, how we hiked out and saw the stars at
night?" Armie asked as they walked through the hotel.

"And how you didn't know where any of the constellations were? I remember
that very clearly."

"You were just pointing and naming astrology words," Armie said. "And then
you had an app. It wasn't exactly stargazing."

Chris slid his key card into the door and stepped into the room. "What did
you do?"

"I wanted to let you know I appreciated you coming along," Armie said, his
hands on Chris' shoulders. "Enjoy yourself."

The suite's dining room table had been set with a small cake beside all of
the credentials that Chris and Armie would need over the weekend. Chris
walked over and noticed a little box alongside it all. It wasn't a huge,
grand gesture, but it was enough to make him simultaneously smile and chide
Armie for going overboard.

"Chocolate with white icing. I know what you like," Armie said as he swiped
at the cake with his finger. Chris licked the white buttercream off Armie's
finger and kissed him square on the lips.

"I'm just going to stay in this room and eat cake all weekend," Chris
said. He rifled through the lanyards and credentials, ignoring what he knew
Armie was waiting for him to open on purpose.

"I could think of worse ways to spend a weekend," Armie said. His arms were
wrapped around Chris' waist and he set his chin on Chris' shoulder, rocking
their bodies together. "Open it. Stop teasing me."

"Hold on," Chris said as he took a closer look at their schedules. "You
only have one thing tomorrow? And the day off tomorrow?"

"Yeah, did you think I'd really ignore you all weekend?"

He really did, but he didn't say it out loud. Armie had clearly gone out of
his way to make this more of a weekend getaway than a work trip. "I didn't
know what to expect."

Chris reached for the box and opened it up quicker than he should
have. "Armie," Chris said, his voice quiet. "This is a lot."

"It's from the year you were born. Real-life vintage," Armie explained,
taking the watch out of the box and slipping it onto Chris' wrist. "It took
me so long to track down the right one." At a loss for words himself, Chris
let Armie's sink in instead. "My dad helped. He knows a guy."

"This is a lot," Chris reiterated.

"It was supposed to be for our anniversary," Armie said. "But you shot that
down and shoved pizza in your face that night."

"I'm sorry," Chris said. "I had no idea."

"You got it now. That's what matters."

"Thank you," Chris said. "I really mean that. It means a lot that you'd
think of something like this."

"I love you," Armie said. "As stubborn as you are."

"I love you. Really love you," Chris said, turning around and burying his
face in Armie's chest.

"We have one thing to go to tonight," Armie said. "So we should both get
changed."

Chris held tight to Armie's body as long as he could. The world could wait
a few more minutes.

By the time they made it to the ballroom of their own hotel, Armie had
changed into outfit number one, pants with a subtle plaid pattern, a white
button-up that showed the perfect amount of chest hair with the top two
buttons undone and a navy blue blazer with bold, bright gold buttons. Chris
felt inadequate in his comparably boring all-black outfit. It was the
opening night reception and Chris vaguely recognized a few people, but he
couldn't really place them. All the other times he went to these events,
people were looking to speak to Jake, not him. As much as the film industry
had embraced him, it was quick to forget after his projects never seemed to
pick up any sort of acclaim. Beginner's luck, Chris figured.

"I see snacks," Armie whispered into Chris' ear as they posed for a photo
together. Armie held Chris' hand--it was his favorite pose for the
cameras--and joked with the photographers, using his go-to line, asking if
they wanted a prom pose or a silly one to go alongside the serious
pictures. None of them ever responded and most were shocked that anyone
would even talk to them. Chris made it a habit to shake their hands
after. Even back with Jake, Chris found that it was more likely that they'd
delete any unflattering photos if he was nice to them.

"I'll get us something to drink," Chris said as soon as they finished at
the step-and-repeat. Armie kissed him on the cheek and gave his shoulder a
squeeze. Chris wove his way through the crowd, and confirmed the fact that
he couldn't recognize anyone. "One beer, whatever you have in a bottle, and
a seltzer water with two limes," Chris said as soon as he got to the
bar. He reached for his back pocket, but stopped when he felt a hand on his
lower back.

"It's nice to see you," Jake said.

"You startled me," Chris said, frozen. Time stopped. He felt it as he
scanned Jake, wanting to make sure that he was actually there. This could
all be a dream, after all. It felt like an eternity, Jake's brown eyes
looking into his, the scent of Jake's cologne lingering in the air and the
two of them so close together. Finally, Chris snapped out of it, landing
firmly back in the current reality. He reached for his wallet, pulled out a
five-dollar bill, and handed it to the bartender. It wasn't until then that
he acknowledged Jake.

"I saw your name on the panel," Chris said. "Is that a permanent position
now?"

"Yeah, honorary. Are you here with Armie?" Straight to the point.

"Yes," Chris said simply. "You shaved."

 Jake noticed a glint at Chris' wrist. Jake rubbed at his jaw and cheek. "I
know you hate it like this. But it was...I don't know. I just started
shaving and this is what happened."

"I don't hate it," Chris said. Armie didn't any rhyme or reason to his own
facial hair, so Chris was still getting accustomed to a fully bearded face
one day, a stubbly one the next and a totally smooth shave another day.

"You always liked it better when I had a beard," Jake clarified. "I should
apologize for what happened. I can't expect you to feel the same way I do."

"You mean a lot to me," Chris said, noticing the sadness in Jake's
words. "I honestly thought you were done with me...with us."

"I thought I was," Jake said. "But I was wrong."

"I read that you were seeing an architect," Chris said. He was immediately
embarrassed. He'd basically admitted to reading tabloids. "And Maggie told
me," he added, hoping it would redeem him.

"She set us up," Jake said. He turned to the bartender to retrieve his own
drink. Jake scanned the room, hoping to be able to change the
subject. "Armie's looking for you."

"I should get over there," Chris said, looking over his shoulder. Jake was
right. Armie, his head well above everyone else's, was looking around for
something or someone.

"Hold on," Jake said, reaching out to grab Chris' forearm. He hesitated for
a second. Chris didn't want to make a scene, but he wasn't sure staying
right there was a great idea. "Does he make you happy? That's
important. For you and for me."

"Very much," Chris said. He paused for a second before adding, "I haven't
been this happy in a long time. I love you, Jake. But you said it: we don't
work anymore."

"Found you," Armie said as he approached the two of them. He put an arm
around Chris' shoulders and took the beer from his hand. "Jake, what's up?"

"Good luck," Jake said. "I finally got a chance to see the movie. It's
really great."

"That means a lot," Chris interjected. He reached out and grabbed Jake's
hand. "I know it couldn't have been easy for you to see."

"Definitely not," Jake said. Armie watched as Chris seemed to soften, like
a wave of relief had washed over him. "But seeing it made things pretty
clear."

"It's a movie," Chris said. "A book. A movie. It wasn't exactly..."

"You don't have to explain," Jake said. "I get it."

"I'm glad you liked it," Armie said, reaching out with free hand. Chris
looked on as they shook hands. "We're very proud of it."

"You two have a good night," Jake said, raising his cocktail to the both of
them. "Excellent work."

"That could have gone a lot worse," Chris said as they worked their way
back into the crowd.

"He'll always be a part of your life. That makes him part of mine now,
too," Armie said. "And yeah, that could have been a lot, lot worse."

"Don't exaggerate," Chris said before taking a glug of his carbonated
water. "I don't expect you two to be best friends."

Armie led them to the edge of the party, where it was quieter. Far away
from the snacks, Chris noticed. He sat down on a settee and Armie joined
him, both of them feeling a little lighter after the conversation had
settled in their minds. "You smell really good," Chris said, leaning into
Armie's neck. His hand rubbed Armie's bicep through his jacket. "And you're
so handsome."

"You're making me blush," Armie said, because he really was. "Do you think
we've done our due diligence down here?"

"No, not at all."

"Do you want to leave?"

"More than anything."

"Let's go. There's cake waiting for us."

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