A Star is Born (7 page)

“I understand. And I guess what I’m saying is that if this is what you think you need to do now, then I understand… and I support your decision.” Before I could say another word, I found myself grappled in a big hug from my favorite man.

“I’m never going anywhere,” he said.

“Forever is a long time,” I countered, knowing that none of us really knew what the future had in store for us.

“You don’t want to be together forever?” he asked, clearly confused.

“I want to be with you forever. But I don’t know if you will be able to do that. I’ve been through nearly losing you twice already, once to another man and once to an illness. Trust me when I say that those were not good experiences. I don’t ever want to go through that again. I want to enjoy life and grow old with you, and I hope that happens.”

“Me too,” he said.

This conversation had shocked me in some ways, mostly my response. Never would I have pictured myself saying the words I ended up saying to Bill. I had started out so angry, so hurt, so scared, but then had pushed those feelings aside and instead said what I felt was in Bill’s best interest, not mine. I saw it as my duty as his boyfriend to love him and support him wherever his life course carried him.

Italia

A
FTER
weeks of reading and studying and discussion and investigation and consideration, Bill and Derrick narrowed the scripts down to five. Those five were further considered and discussed. They even had me read the five, although I was in school full time by then so I wasn’t able to drop everything and simply read them. I got through them as quickly as possible, and then sat down before my committee of three to give my opinion.

For me the decision had been relatively simple, which completely surprised me. I had anticipated a situation where all five scripts were nearly identical in importance and merits. But what I found when I read them was a clear favorite, a clear so-so script, and the other three falling neatly into a ranking between those two extremes.

With three sets of eyes looking at me expectantly (I had withheld all opinions until I had finished reading all five scripts), I arrayed the scripts side by side on the table and said while I pointed, “Number one, number two, number three, number four, and number five, in that order.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Derrick said.

“No. Why would I kid about something like that?”

“We’ve been wrestling with these for weeks, and you just rank them with no hesitation?”

“Yes. From the stories, the lines, the characters, I could see you two doing this one,” I said, pointing again to my first choice, “without any difficulty whatsoever. In fact, the story seems like an absolutely natural thing for you two. I could see the two of you having a conversation that featured some of those same lines. Not acting, but having a simple conversation. And that seemed so real to me. So that was my number one choice.

“This one,” I said, pointing to my last choice, “is a good script, but it didn’t push my buttons. There was nothing about it that said, ‘Wow!’ so I ranked it lowest. The others all fell out naturally between those two extremes. Number two is a good story, but not as good as number one. Same with three and four. I was expecting a big challenge, but this one was pretty clear-cut for me. How does this match up with your rankings?”

Bill answered for the group. “We’re all in agreement with you on number one. For second place we each have a different choice. Your vote broke the tie.”

“Who picked the same one I did for number two?” I asked, dying of curiosity.

“I did,” Derrick said. That answer surprised me. I would have expected that Bill and I had agreed, but certainly not Derrick.

“What did you have in second place, Bill?” I asked.

He pointed to my third choice. Moira had my fourth choice, and apparently all of us ranked my last choice as lower on the list. So they had their ordering. That night at our table they made their decision, ranking the top three and authorizing Moira to go ahead, contact the relevant parties, and start negotiations on our first two choices. By going after two at the same time, she would be able to play one group off the other in the negotiations to get them to do what she wanted. She knew what she was doing, and we were all so glad she was on our side.

Thus started several weeks of intensive negotiations. I had returned to school, but Bill hadn’t, so his days were free. In other words, he didn’t have anything to do with himself all day long, day after day, and was going stir crazy for want of something to spend his time doing. He should have remained enrolled in school for the current quarter, but he had sort of assumed that the minute they made their decision the deal would be done and shooting could begin. But his last movie had been the aberration, not the rule. Most movies took a long time to get underway.

The good part, if there was a good part to all of this, was that with Bill home all the time, he kept the house clean and did the grocery shopping and the cooking. With the income from his last movie, he had insisted that I quit working at Starbucks, since we were no longer so desperate for money. I had argued the point, but finally relented since I had no great attachment to the job and wouldn’t miss it at all.

We didn’t do anything frivolous or wild with the money he had earned. Most of that money was safely tucked away in the bank. We had been ultracautious, not wanting to get ourselves into a situation where our expenses matched our income at the moment but would exceed our income in the future. Money, or the lack of money, had always been a big deal for Bill. For so many years he had nothing, so he was always anxious to accumulate money to have in reserve. I had no argument with him on that approach.

Finally, a deal was struck, and contracts were signed for the production of the first film. As it turned out, the whole thing had taken a long time to work out to everyone’s satisfaction. The delays meant that filming didn’t get underway until June, when school was finished for me for the year. So when I heard that this movie would be filmed in northern Italy, I momentarily dreaded what that meant. But Bill immediately said, “You’re going too. No question.”

So, when filming was ready to begin, Bill and I moved our lives to northern Italy for three months. Neither of us had ever been to Italy, but we both fell in love with the place once we got there and got settled. We had Derrick along with us, and somehow the man spoke perfect Italian, so we always had someone who spoke the language. Both Bill and I also picked up phrases and expressions in the native tongue, and were able to communicate sufficiently to get along by the end of the summer.

Unlike his first movie, this one had gone smoothly, and everything had worked like clockwork. That was probably due to the producer who was hired to handle the film. The man was maniacal about details. Some found him to be a petty micromanager. I didn’t find him that way at all, since his planning meant that the film progressed smoothly from start to finish. Who could complain about that?

Bill had some days that were long and torturous, but by and large his days were civilized and manageable. And with him working more reasonable hours, we were actually able to get a few hours here and there to go off and do things in the surrounding countryside.

The studio set us up in a big old country house that was smack dab in the middle of a huge olive grove. From our vantage point on the top of a hill, we had unbelievable views off into the surrounding countryside. We could see neighboring farms, acre after acre of vineyards, and rustic stone buildings that looked like they had been built five hundred years earlier.

When Bill and Derrick had a three-day weekend, we all hopped on a train and went off to Venice to explore the canals and byways of that old seaport city. We all simply adored Venice. Derrick had, of course, been there before. We were quickly learning that the man had been just about everywhere at one time or another.

There were the usual issues with people recognizing both of the guys with me, but I was usually able to run interference, which kept us mostly free from fans becoming too bothersome. There were the occasional instances that got out of control, but those were fortunately fewer than they would have been in the US.

We used our time to take a gondola ride, see some of the museums, visit the nearby glass island, dine in some fantastic out-of-the-way restaurants, and just relax. It was phenomenal, and we all loved that weekend so much that we went back about a month later to do it all again (but with different activities during the day since there was never a lack of things to do and see in Venice).

Other weekends, when we had only a day or two free, we went to small hillside towns within an hour’s drive of our house and the filming location. We visited some little towns that were so quaint they practically curled your toes.

While Bill and Derrick worked, I went off on my own and did more exploring, venturing into Milan, Pisa, Rome (ah, Roma!), and a series of coastal towns. I was loving every minute of my summer. I didn’t have to work and didn’t have any schedule so I was free to roam and explore, which is exactly what I did. By the end of the summer, I knew more about the country than seemed possible and had picked up a fair amount of the language. I was by no means able to converse fluidly or flawlessly in Italian, but I knew enough to get by and accomplish just about everything I wanted or needed to do.

Some days, while the guys were working, I went to small markets in neighboring towns and bought some incredible produce and prepared some not-half-bad, almost-authentic Italian dinners for all of us. I didn’t think I was that great a cook, so it must have been the location where we were eating the food that contributed so much to its taste. Weather permitting, we ate outdoors on our patio every evening, drinking more of the local wines we had discovered with each meal.

All too soon, the location filming was done, and it was time for us to return home and get back to real life. I had to go to school in a few weeks, and Bill and Derrick had to immediately start work on their next film project. So we flew home, experiencing mega jetlag on our return trip. It took us nearly a week to get back onto California time, which, as it turned out, was just about the length of time Bill and Derrick had before they had to leave for their next film.

The next movie was to be filmed in the Hawaiian Islands, so while I wouldn’t be with the guys, at least I knew that we would be in daily contact. The boys were staying at Derrick’s house on Maui rather than in studio-arranged housing, a move that made everyone happy. It was nice to know that, while Bill would be sleeping in another location from me every night, at least we would talk every day.

Surprise!

F
OUR
weeks into their project, a number of things came together beautifully for me. I had a four-day weekend from school, for one. And as it worked out with my class schedule, my four-day weekend turned into five days with no classes. Since this all happened on my birthday, I considered it one incredibly nice present. With the opening in my schedule, I decided at the last minute to fly to Hawaii and surprise the guys. Even though Bill and I were talking every day, I still missed him terribly and was anxious to have at least a night or two together, especially on this important weekend.

I was able to get a flight, threw some things into a backpack, and headed to LAX. Talk about putting something together at the last minute! That is exactly what I was doing. I barely got through security and to the gate in time to catch my flight. I was rushing so much that I hadn’t even had time to call Bill and tell him I was coming, so this would be a surprise visit.

When my flight landed, I thought about calling Bill but decided that, since I was so close at this point, I might as well go ahead and make it a true surprise. It was evening by the time I got to Hawaii, so I knew that their shooting would most likely be finished for the day. I caught a cab outside the airport and gave the driver directions to Derrick’s house. I had stayed at the house several times by that point, so I knew the place well.