A/N: Hi there! I know you all hate me for leaving it with a cliffhanger in the last chapter, but guess what? That’s the way I like it! XD Anyway, just jump straight into the next chapter and see if the denial has blown over…

8: What Brings People Together

Leigh has sort of lost tracks of time. He doesn’t have a watch, and the clock in his hotel room is placed above his head, on top of the TV. He hasn’t really had the energy to look up at it.

It’s not that he’s very sad.

It’s just that he… Doesn’t really feel anything.

It’s everything. Everything that has happened during the course of not even twenty-four hours. His body has been pushed through what seems to be every human emotion you can possibly feel. He’s felt a flaming rage, icy, dull numbness, a love followed by desire so big that it seemed to rise up, like a balloon that a child had lost hold of, when it floats up through the air, scrapes against the ceiling.

And now, all of that is gone, and he’s back to nothing. Everything has to be built back up. Everything has to be gone through again.

The movie.

His movie. Their movie. The one that’s meant so much to him, that constant ghost in his mind that he’s hated and loved more than anything in the world, that thing that he’s never been able to be away from, since even when he is, there’s a small part of his soul that’s there, with his laptop, hiding between the letters, trying to pose them into something that people will like. Something that he can live with.

And Adam.

You’ve left me.

It’s such a stupid thing to think. Adam was never real, Leigh didn’t even get to finish his portrait of him. The mindmap that is him.

But that’s what’s so horrible. Adam’s half a character now, lies cut in halves somewhere in Leigh’s mind. Bleeding to death.

Because they didn’t believe in the script. Didn’t believe in Leigh, in Adam.

And Adam means so much to him. Adam means more to him than he’s ever wanted to admit.

And he’s not there anymore. Leigh tries to find his voice, but his head is empty. It’s blank.

You bastard, you’ve left me…

And Cary. Fuck, Cary…

Leigh doesn’t want to put Cary on a pedestal. He finds that a very bad thing to do with anyone, since then, they just start thinking so much of themselves, they get a big head, and then, you can’t respect them anymore.

And he hasn’t done that with Cary. You can’t put someone that modest on a pedestal, and it’s not so much that Leigh necessarily look up to Cary, he knows they’re pretty much on the same level. That’s why they can talk about anything.

But in some way, he will always think that Cary’s responsible for all his dreams coming true. Or, not really his dreams, since his dreams are Internet forums about the twist at the end, awards at film festivals, Emails from giggly fangirls with bad spelling and no commas.

Cary hasn’t gotten him where he wants to be. But Cary’s put him on the map, Cary’s pushed him in the right direction. And he believes in him. Even when no one else does.

And Leigh loves him for that. He doesn’t want to, he didn’t even know that he did. In fact, he just came up with it. But he feels it now, a roaring fire and a calm warmth that rises in his body, a feeling that’s too big for this hotel room, but wells out from the windows and spread with the New York wind outside. Like ashes.

He wants Cary there with him. And that’s something he must never again admit that he wants.

And Corbett.

His beloved, beloved Corbett.

She’s actually the thing that confuses Leigh the most right now. Since now that she in fact is the love of his life, and he’s actually never loved anyone the way he loves her, why didn’t he think about her when he was with Cary, why didn’t he see her painted lips when he stood on his toes to kiss Cary’s slightly parted, breathing nervously?

Because things weren’t so great between you.

The thought is so weird that Leigh actually lifts his head from where he’s leaned it against his knees.

That statement is so farfetched, so incredibly distant from the truth that it’s never even crossed his mind before.

But in the meantime, when Leigh tries to think back of his time with Corbett, he realizes that he’s never done this before. Simply because there are so many things he’s chosen to forget. And that he’s forced to remember now.

Like her first words when he told her that Cary had agreed to be in the movie.

So you’re really doing this thing?

With the disappointment coating her voice. Like she’d sort of waited for something to go wrong, ever since Leigh started writing the script.

Like that amused compassion she got in her eyes whenever Leigh tried to discuss an idea for the storyline with her. Sort of liked she thought it was adorable that he even put so much effort into this.

Or like that brief roll of her eyes that she made way too often. The despise that’s always been there, that pity over what was big dreams to him, but just naivety to her. And everything else Leigh hasn’t wanted to stay in his mind.

She never believed in him. And he loves Cary, no matter how unpermitted he is to do that, because Cary believes in him.

Leigh leans his chin against his knees again.

Corbett… I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to you, because… I don’t love you anymore. I did love you, I loved you more than anything for quite a time, but… It’s been a while since then. I have new loves now. I have Adam, who you never thought would be loved but anyone but me. And I have Cary. At least if he wants to… Be had by me. If you can say that.

That’s just the start of everything Leigh wants to tell her. But he’s cut off by his cell phone, he’d basically forgotten it existed up until now.

Without the movie, no one calls him. He hasn’t even talked to James, he has no idea how he’s handling all this. That makes Leigh feel oddly selfish as he picks up the phone and answers.

“Hello?”

“Man, you have to come down there.”

It’s James. And Leigh knows that he hasn’t heard James sound excited in the way he does now about anything except the movie, but he still doesn’t get his hopes up. He doesn’t dare.

“James? What’s going on?”

James laughs. Or he sobs. Leigh feels like he can do both, because just like when Cary called him and changed his life, he knows. He just knows.

“They’re picking it up again.”

“What?”

Leigh doesn’t get why he’s asking this. He knows, damn it!

“They’re picking it back up!” James practically yells into the phone. “I don’t know what changed their mind, but who cares? Just come here, we’re back on tracks! And we’ve lost a whole damn day!”

Leigh feels his eyes pricking. He’s determined not to cry, though.

You girl.

Shut up, Adam, you wonderful, wonderful little son of a bitch.

“Okay,” Leigh says in an uneven voice. “I’m on my way.”

He can hear James’ smirk through the phone.

“Are you crying, Leigh?”

Leigh chuckles and leans his forehead in his hand.

“Go to hell, James,” he says, his words are gooey, like they’re about to melt. “See you in a bit.”

He hangs up and leans his head against the wall.

Leigh still doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t allow himself to.

Because right now, his soul is like a dam. His emotions are water, heavy and rushing, mightily roaring.

If the dam bursts and he lets it all in, all the relief, all the over-bubbling joy and all the millions of weights that have fallen from his chest when he realizes that he won’t have to walk through the rest of his life wondering what could’ve been, he will cry. He would sob like a little boy, because he’s so senselessly happy and so drowned in his own expectations that it’s almost too much.

And Leigh won’t cry. He will save those tears for the finale scene in the movie. His movie.

In the script that they believe in.

He will save the tears to make Adam seem more believable.

Well, that’s just endearing, but just get off your ass now. If you lose more time, they’ll take the damn thing down again, and I’ll be stuck listening to your whining for another day.

So you heard that?

How could I not?

You didn’t leave me?

Adam blushes.

Don’t get any ideas. Get moving already.

Leigh nods, his silly grin goes from ear to ear, and stands up.

Later on, Leigh will remember nothing of the bus ride to the movie set. Even though that’s when the dam starts to creak, beams of water sprays out between the boards, the feelings almost get too much. So he should remember it, but he doesn’t. The bus ride is insignificant to him.

It’s the moment when he arrives to the movie set, when he sees one of the most significant things in world to him right now, that he will remember.

He will remember the back of the blue shirt, the blond strands of hair combed neatly against the back of the neck when Cary’s unlocking the door. He will remember forgetting about cautiousness, about Adam, about the slightest worry he ever had that anyone would see them, nothing seems less important to him right then.

He will remember running up to Cary, the coughed-out gasp when he jumps up and flings his arms around his neck and clings to his back for a moment, like a knapsack, in a clumsy, gruff hug that he only has the patience to maintain in for a few seconds before he spins Cary around, pushes him up against the brick wall, finds his cheek with his hand and his lips with his own, not caring if he wants it, knowing that he does.

Because Cary accepts it, his mouth opens and tongues dance around each other, violent and impatient, because there are so many other things they have to make time for, so many dreams they have to fulfill, so much they mean to each other that they have to make sure that the other one knows.

Leigh knows they will learn that, though. If not as themselves, then as Adam and Lawrence. Because they’re so real by now, they should be able to talk to each other on the behalf of Cary and Leigh, like mouthpieces for the insecure and scared.

When they have to break apart to breath, Leigh is still not ready to let go. He has to take his hand from Cary’s cheek, move it to his back and hug him again, so tightly that he breaths Cary’s scent through the buttons of his shirt, feels his heart beat against his cheek. Only for a second, until he lets go and looks up at Cary’s modest smile.

He looks like Lawrence, Adam says, and Leigh replies I know, I know, and I love him more than ever, before he opens his mouth again.

“Nothing is going to ruin this production for us,” he murmurs huskily. “Nothing, you hear me?”

He dares Cary to say no with a gaze boring into his. Both about what this sentence must sound like to everyone else and what it is for them. But in Cary’s eyes, there is nothing but a glittering smile and a screaming yes, yes, yes, and Leigh is completely convinced that he’s going to protect both the meanings of his words. From anyone that would have the guts to try to hurt them.

Some of you might now that I find it impossible to keep my sweethearts apart for more than one chapter… And that goes for RPS, too! Anyway, please review!