Love, Action!

By Jess Decatur

Kurt Lerner and Jonathan North grew up in the public eye, as heartthrob teenage costars in a blockbuster movie trilogy. Years later, they meet again under changed circumstances: Kurt's star is rising as he transitions to grown-up roles, but Jonathan's left the business and won't explain why.

Their meeting stirs up painful memories and repressed longings which Kurt worries will endanger his film career. Jonathan, having tasted the freedom of a life without judgment, has different views. Will Kurt ever be brave enough to step into the spotlight with Jonathan at his side?

Their story unfolds against the glamorous backdrops of movie premieres, award shows and film shoots, taking them to London, New York, Los Angeles and points in between. But all that glitters is not gold....

This 40,000 word gay romance features an explicit sexual relationship between two male characters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jess Decatur
• Release date: Dec 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781497767522

Book preview

1. Blind Item

Excerpt from A Constellation of Stars, Celeb Weekly, April 20—

Which former child star might have had a different kind of initiation into adulthood during production of his most recent film? We hear the nights got cold and lonely on location, and his out-and-proud costar was a welcome warm companion. But don't expect a big coming out party—the arrangement was strictly FWB and on the DL.

Still, we can't help but wonder if these developments lend new support to the faction of fans who've always believed this young man and another famous child star shared a special bond. The two became household names in the trilogy of films they appeared in together as young adolescents, and rumors about their current relationship run rampant.

This second young actor—longtime readers may recognize the nickname he goes by on our site: Polaris—has faded from the public eye in recent years. But we're sure his star will burn just as brightly when he returns....

2. The Premiere

The plane skipped onto the runway at John F. Kennedy in a spray of sleet and snow. The other first class passengers breathed out audible sighs of relief. A few of them even clapped.

Well, the elderly Englishman beside Kurt said. "Good job that's over." He extended a hand across the space between their seats, as if Kurt was the pilot and deserved congratulations.

Kurt smiled and shook hands. Despite the turbulence bumping the plane like a toy, he hadn't been nervous at all.

So what's brought you to New York? the Englishman asked as they taxied toward the terminal. I caught your accent when you were ordering your drink. German?

With at least a dash of English, too, or so people tell me—my parents are Swiss but I was born and raised in London.

And your connection to America?

I'm here for a movie premiere. Now Kurt had to force his smile to stay small and polite instead of spreading wide and proud. I'm an actor.

Oh? The Englishman's interest visibly sharpened. You've certainly got a face for film, I must say. What's the name of it?

"Burning Brothers. Dunno if you've seen any of the posters round London—it's starring Tyler Michaelson...?"

Saying it to a stranger, to a perfectly ordinary person who was neither in the industry nor a family member, Kurt felt a perverse bit of shyness capping his swell of pride. He'd been thinking for weeks how this was finally the time—imagining it in capitals: Now Is Finally The Time—flying all over the world in the studio's lavish embrace, premieres and press junkets and talk shows and photo shoots. His name and face had been splashed across magazines and gossip blogs since his casting was announced almost two years ago, but it had ramped up the past few weeks as the US premieres approached.

After the film finally hit theaters, he'd been warned, obscurity would never be his again.

But Kurt knew better than most how quickly that rich red carpet could disappear from under your feet.

As if to prove him right, the Englishman furrowed his brow and shook his head. I do apologize—it's not coming to mind.

Kurt adopted a matter-of-fact tone, his polite smile still firmly in place. No worries. It isn't one of those big budget things. We're doing the New York and Los Angeles premieres this week so we can cut in before the end of the year for award eligibility, but it won't be out in all the cinemas until January.

Ah, best of luck, then. You must be very excited.

The Englishman sounded kind enough, but then something flickered in his eyes. Kurt, no stranger to nonverbal expressions—they were the tools of his trade, after all—understood that squint of distant recollection.

Very excited, yeah, Kurt said, bracing himself.

Wait a moment. Swiss actor, you said? Have I seen you in other things?

Here it comes. You're probably thinking of—

Those films about the three orphans! But—you're all grown now. How old were you then?

Sixteen by the end of it all, when the last one premiered.

Right, there was a whole series of them, wasn't there? Well, you can't be more than twenty now.

Twenty-four, actually, Kurt said. Their small talk might as well be scripted; whenever someone recognized him it inevitably ended up following one of a few well-worn patterns.

Has it truly been that long? And what have you been doing since then? You'll have to remind me if I've seen any other films with you in.

No, this will be my first one since. I took time off for university. He didn't volunteer any further explanation.

The Englishman shook his head. "A good decision, that. As I recall, your little faces were bloody everywhere. No way for children to grow up, I'd imagine."

Indeed, that had been the decided opinion of more than a few people in Kurt's life at the time. Kurt himself felt less and less sure about what he'd believed back then. The prevailing wisdom about child stardom was that it fucked people up for life in ways ranging from Britney Spears-level meltdowns—public and painful and as compulsively watchable as a train wreck—to Daniel Radcliffe-level alcoholism—controlled but with the air of narrowly averted tragedy. There had certainly been plenty of articles about himself, Jonathan and Penelope over the years speculating where they fell on the spectrum.

But here he was now, back in the business. Older and wiser, hopefully, but the circus was still a circus. And these days, no one was making Kurt's decisions anymore but himself.

Now Is The Time. Your time.

The plane slid smoothly to a stop, the safety bell dinged, the lights came on.

Well, the Englishman said, I wish you all the best of luck in life, young man.

Thank you. Kurt nodded goodbye and stood, stretching his long legs after hours of first class lounging. Then he squared his shoulders and waited to deplane.

-oOo-

The studio had arranged for a driver to meet him outside of International Arrivals, professional and personal enough that he wasn't even holding one of those plastic signs with Kurt's name in dry erase marker. Instead the man strode smoothly forward and said, Mr. Lerner? I'm Frank from Warner Brothers. I'll be your transport while you're here in New York, and neatly took hold of Kurt's luggage handle.

Kurt had been to New York a few times before, years ago for the series of films that had plastered his little face bloody everywhere, as his fellow passenger had noted. London was nothing to sneeze at, of course, but it was his hometown and it rarely wowed him anymore. New York, on the other hand, was New York—familiar from film and television but utterly foreign in person, completely overwhelming both then and now. He gawked at the sheer number of cars on the freeway, so much careless traffic transporting countless people to who knew where, all the buildings crowded together without any space between.

He called his parents from the car to let them know he'd landed all right. It was the new transatlantic Airbus, Dad. The one they've been making in Broughton.

My old team? Ah, I'll have to tell them. How did it feel?

Handled the winter weather very well, from my perspective.

His father chuckled. Everything feels smoother in first class. When do your interviews start?

Not sure—I'm only en route to the hotel now.

Make sure to give the British reporters a bit of attention, his mother advised. You know how they are when they think an actor's gone Hollywood.

They were already at the London premiere in swarms, Mum. I doubt any will've come to New York.

Of course they have, they're always looking for something to say about you. Mind it's only good things, mmm?

He refrained from pointing out that he was nothing more than supporting cast and there would be far bigger prey attracting the vultures—that discussion had been conducted many times over already, with little change in refrain.

He dozed intermittently during the long ride into Manhattan and didn't wake again until the car stopped in front of the hotel, somewhere in midtown. Climbing out onto the cold hard sidewalk, blinking into the December wind, Kurt had the overwhelming impression of buildings reaching upward into the sky for miles, and himself just one of a crowd of ants crawling at their feet.

He closed his eyes for a moment. How had he ever thought he'd make his mark in such a crush?

Mr. Lerner?

Someone came forward and shook his hand before he'd even fully extended it. Young woman, actor wrangler written all over her brand new professional suit. Over the clipboard clasped to her chest dangled a badge with the Warner Brothers logo.

My name is Gina. I'm from the studio. Very-nice-meeting-you-hope-your-flight-was-good. The valets will get your luggage. I'll show you to your suite and give you the schedule for the press junket. You've got a round of interviews kicking off in an hour and you'll probably want to freshen up before makeup and lighting get started.

He had six hours of plane clinging to his skin and clothes, and more importantly, a rumbling stomach. Sure. Could I also get something to eat?

Gina nodded briskly. We'll get room service to send something up.

Your suite, she'd said. Room service. Very different from the London premiere a week ago, when he'd taken the Tube to Leicester Square after bolting down the leftover pizza in his fridge.

A mobile phone squawked from Gina's hip holster. She grabbed it and immediately became engrossed in a spat about one of his costars' press agents, all the while leading Kurt into the belly of the hotel, up an opulently-carpeted elevator, and into an even more ostentatious suite. He was relieved when she finally bowed out and left him in peace, although she handed him a packet an inch thick with guidelines on interview decorum, reminders to say nothing about the last third of Burning Brothers' plot on pain of death (or worse, getting blacklisted from future Warner Brothers projects), and a twenty-page schedule itemized to the nanosecond.

Tucked into the packet, however, was a mystery: a scrap of paper bearing the hotel's name and insignia, a note scrawled in Tyler's messy handwriting.

Tyler Michaelson, the lead male. A flush of heat started at the tips of Kurt's ears and spread through the rest of his face as he read the words, once and then one more time.

Been too long, friend. Let's play hooky again for old time's sake. Suite 1401.

Food, shower, change of clothes, or Tyler's face. Not to mention Tyler's big hands and broad shoulders and the rest of his long, elegant body.

But then he noticed Tyler's name on the mega-schedule, a solid column indicating he had interviews for the next two hours. Kurt briefly pictured himself barging in to sweep Tyler up in a passionate, long-awaited, music swelling, rom-com embrace while People magazine's crew took notes, pictures and high definition video.

Kurt sighed, adjusted himself in his trousers, and dialed room service.

-oOo-

What was it like being in front of a camera again after so many years?

Very exciting. And in other ways like I never left, thanks to everyone being so supportive. The cast and crew were all just top-notch professionals, so it was a great environment to be in.

"Why did you take such a long break? Was it intentional? So many child actors don't make the transition to adult roles."

I just wanted to focus on school. University and just living a normal life for a while. Fortunately when I started feeling ready to come back, I was able to get ahold of this wonderful script and, even more fortunately, the powers that be liked my audition. And here we are.

The reporter nodded encouragingly through Kurt's rehearsed answer, just as if it wasn't so obviously rehearsed. "Have you

Reviews for Love, Action!

[Rachel White · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is really well written. The Hollywood stuff is believable, and the characters are lovely. Very nice.