Page 41 of If the World Was Ending

Colby rolled his eyes at Hunter, but he was also fighting a laugh. Hunter was much funnier than he gave himself credit for, and although Hunter had a hot superhero lead face and body, he had the humor of a rom-com king too. He really had endless potential.

“You got the part, baby!” Margo bellowed suddenly, not putting up with a second more of Hunter’s nonsense.

“What? The sci-fi indie flick? The lead?”

“Yes. That. Yes! The lead! You are anchoring a film, Hunter Law! A really good one,” Margo confirmed proudly.

Apparently, Hollywood finally got the memo. Colby was so excited that he reached over and grabbed one of Hunter’s hands in both of his.

“You’re serious?” Hunter asked, fighting the grin that was trying to take over his face.

“Yes!” Margo exclaimed. “But there’s a small catch. Not really a catch, just an… unexpected plot twist.”

“What?” Colby and Hunter said at the exact same moment. If Colby’s heart was in his throat, which it was, then Hunter’s must be hanging from his tonsils.

“There’s an echo…” Margo muttered, not realizing Colby was on the call too. “You have to leave the day after tomorrow. They’ve already started pre-production, and there’s a shit ton of fight choreography to learn and costumes to fit.”

“Holy shit.” Hunter croaked. “I’m supposed to go to Montreal next week to see my parents. It’s Thanksgiving. The Canadian one.”

“Don’t you think your parents would understand?” Margo asked. “This is your break, Hunter. It truly is.”

“Yeah. Of course. Yeah. I just… I thought I’d have a little more time.”

“Full disclosure. It was already cast,” Margo told him, her voice calm but rushed. She knew Hunter well enough to know that he wouldn’t like this part. Colby could tell that’s why she was hurrying through the explanation. “But obviously he wasn’t a good fit, or there were scheduling issues or something because last minute, that actor’s out and they want you!”

“I love being the last resort,” Hunter muttered, immediately defeated. Colby nudged his shoulder and shot him a reassuring smile. He was also still kind of holding Hunter’s hand, but neither of them seemed to care.

“Doesn’t matter how it happened, it happened. Do you know how many other guys they could have picked?” Colby said. He tried to whisper it but Margo heard.

“Who is that?” Margo asked.

“My roommate Colby,” Hunter said. “He’s a musician.”

“Oh, that one I saw when I went to the dive bar you work at a couple weeks ago?” Margo asked, and Colby frowned at the phone until she added, “He was good. You were good, Colby.”

“Thank you, Marge…go.” He cleared his throat, and Hunter struggled not to laugh. “Margo.”

“You also got a look. If you ever want to act, call me. I bet I can score you a hair commercial or something.”

“Thanks?” Colby said, but his face scrunched up uncomfortably at the thought. He could bare his soul and share his innermost thoughts on stage as he sang, but standing in front of a camera trying to be someone else was a horrifying thought.

“So, start packing. Also, the first half of the salary is on its way to you,” Margo said, and you could hear the smile in her voice. “My fifteen percent from you will make my car payment this month, kiddo. And I drive a Benz.”

“Shit. Yeah. Glad I could keep your wheels on the road, Margo. And thanks. For everything. You’re amazing.”

“I fucking am,” Margo agreed. “And so are you. Go to Canada and show them. I’ll let you know when the plane ticket is confirmed.”

She ended the call, and Colby put Hunter’s phone in his lap as Hunter put the car in gear and pulled into their spot. Hunter cut the engine, closed his eyes, and inhaled slowly. Colby watched him silently, enjoying the way a sliver of sunlight tilting into the cavernous space sliced across his jet-black hair and thick, straight eyebrows. “You’re freaking out.”

“A little. Yeah,” Hunter muttered, and Colby glanced at his hands, which were still on the steering wheel, gripping so tightly his knuckles were stark white. Colby had seen signs of Hunter’s anxiety before. Mostly it was clenched jaws, pinched eyebrows, and twitching fingers. This felt like more than that.

“Why? This is everything you’ve been working toward. Everything you want,” Colby reminded him. “A leading role. In a movie. You’ll knock this out of the park, Hunter. I know it.”

“Yeah, but… they picked me because they’re desperate. They’ll see me in person and think I’m too… small, or too big, or not expressive enough or too expressive or too… whatever it is that made me a second choice,” Hunter complained. He exhaled loudly and continued his spiral. “The sides said casting call said ‘Caucasian male,’ so what if they see me and I’m not white enough in person? What if I’m too tall? Or not tall enough? Or too built? Or they think I’m fat. I can look round sometimes. Or I’m not coordinated enough to do the fight sequences? Or?—”

“Look at me,” Colby insisted, and Hunter begrudgingly did as he was told. “You know the lines. You like the role. You are perfect for the role. I’m sure you weren’t the only other person to audition. But you’re the one they went with. Even if it was second. But maybe it wasn’t. They’ve been auditioning for that role for months. Dex gave me the script almost two months ago.”

“Daxton.”