“Jayden called. He asked if we wanted to hook up next weekend. Could be fun. We haven’t played together in a while.”
He should jump at this idea. He really should. It was just sex. He and Parker had always seen it that way. They had rules in place and it worked for them, but the idea didn’t set his gut on fire the way it used to. “We can if you—”
“You’re not happy.” Parker cut him off. Matt closed his eyes and let out a deep breath before he turned sideways on the couch to face his boyfriend.
“I should be. I don’t know why I’m not.” He paused and then added, “You aren’t either.” It was different with Parker than it was with Matt. He was happy in his life, in his career, but Matt wasn’t naïve. He knew he wasn’t giving Parker what he wanted the way he used to. Matt didn’t feel like he was getting it either, which shouldn’t be the case because again, nothing had changed.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He turned back toward the window and dropped his head against the back of the couch. “It’s not just with you.”
“I know.” Parker put a hand on his knee. “I’m your agent. I can see you aren’t happy at work too, but right now this is about us. I care about you, Matt. You know that, but I think we need to be real honest with each other right now. Things haven’t been good for a while. We need to face that fact.”
Matt waited for the fight to rise inside of him. If there was one thing he had always been able to say about himself, it was that he was a fighter—but nothing came. No ideas, no arguments, no pleading or will to find a way to make it work, just sadness and a twinge of regret. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Parker nudged him. “Plus, I’m the one who’s breaking up with you. We had a good run, but I think the important thing right now is you figure out what’s going on with you.”
I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
But he wished he did. He should be more grateful for his life than he was. He’d come from nothing, had nothing, been the kid who didn’t really fit in, even with his best friends and now he was wanted for God’s sake. He had an expensive apartment in New York City with his boyfriend. His fucking face was on billboards.
Why do I feel so empty?
“Have you talked to Oliver?” Parker asked.
“Huh?” Matt frowned. What was he supposed to say to Oliver? And why was Parker mentioning him? They hadn’t even met before. He’d always kept his New York life and his California life separated because he didn’t feel like New York Matt and California Matt were the same person.
“Eh. I just figured you would have spoken to him. You talk to him more than you do anyone else. If I were the jealous type, I might have disliked him on principle.”
That was a surprise. He would have never expected to hear Parker say he could be envious of Ollie…but he did know he felt more comfortable talking to Oliver than anyone else. On the flip side, Parker had seen sides of him Oliver never would. Things Oliver wouldn’t understand because he was so goddamned perfect and Matt would always be flawed.
Still…he missed him. Hearing Parker mention Oliver made Matt miss him more. “There would never be a reason to be jealous of Ollie. He’s my best friend and that’s all. We’re too different.” Oliver had always felt a responsibility toward Matt. He knew that. How could he not? He’d known Matt as the kid whose mom worked for his family. Then the kid who liked to play the piano but never had money for lessons. The kid who Oliver begged his parents to sponsor so he could go to an arts high school Matt could never have gotten into on his own.
He appreciated what Oliver did for him, and he always would, but there was no reason to be jealous. “This isn’t about Oliver,” Matt added, hoping that would take Oliver from his thoughts. “What are we going to do about work?”
“There’s nothing to do. You’re my client if you want to be. You know that, Matt. We’re friends outside of our careers, but you’re not working anyway. You’re making excuses not to work. I think you need to ask yourself why. Take some time—get your thoughts in order; figure out what you want.”
What the hell would he do? Before he was modeling, he’d worked three dead-end jobs trying to make ends meet. He’d never gone to school like he planned. He’d eventually stopped trying to compose because nothing ever came of it. He didn’t play anymore. Sad as it was, modeling was all he had. “It’s my career. What choice do I have?”