It was funny.
"Fuck me," Tennyson muttered into his glass. He was looking at something behind me, so I turned and saw Sophie and Brooklyn approaching. They were stunning, and I reckoned their dresses alone could bring a third world country outta poverty. I wouldn’t even speculate about the jewelry.
"We ready to go?" I emptied my glass and set it down on the bartop. Then I grabbed Julian's hand and kissed it. "I have a nervous boyfriend who's about to see his name in the credits for the first time."
Sophie beamed at him as Tennyson kissed her temple. "You've done an amazing job, Julian. I hope we'll work together again."
"Thank you, you too." Julian nodded and adjusted his bow tie. Maybe he was more than nervous. Hell, I was anxious as fuck. But at least I'd been around this life for two decades.
We exited the hotel together and ignored the paps that had flown in from all over the world for the festival. We had a limo waiting, and I sat down next to Julian as the rest piled in.
"Just wait 'til award season." Asher winked at Julian.
"Oh, God. I'm not sure I can take it." Julian slumped back and blew out a heavy breath. "If I didn’t adore your wife, Tennyson, I might've caused you some serious harm for this."
"Nonsense." Tennyson slid him an easy smile. "It's your score. We give credit where it's due."
I agreed.
Julian had gone from being an inspiration of sorts to taking over. He hadn't merely set the tone with a few songs; he'd ended up composing all music. He disliked being the center of attention something fierce, so Tennyson and I had handled the hiring of an orchestra, artists, and a studio, but Julian had been the silent genius behind it all.
"What about you, Noah?" Sophie asked. "Nervous?"
I let out a breathy laugh after Tennyson sent me a knowing smirk.
"I'll take that as a yes," Brooklyn snickered.
Good call.
We drove through a buzzing Cannes that was packed with stars and the finest Hollywood had to offer. Festivals were a melting pot of music, fashion, film, and launches of brands. Everyone who belonged on the red carpet was a billboard, sponsored by whatever company and fashion house that had something to show off.
"Noah." Julian nudged me.
"Yeah?"
"From Grandma and Grandpa." He revealed his phone.
We wish you two good luck today. We are proud, no matter what.
That was nice.
We hadn't seen them yet, but Julian had been emailing them a lot, and as of a few days ago, he'd been on the phone with them. It wasn’t as strained anymore, and though they definitely found our relationship a bit too unconventional, they were trying.
We couldn’t ask for more than that. They were of another generation and had their own sets of beliefs. So it wasn’t about handing out an ultimatum of "It's all or nothing." It was about meeting halfway and accepting each other, even when we didn’t agree.
"You okay—" I was cut off by the sound of people cheering, and I looked out to see we were passing the fan area for our theater. Press and crew filled the sidewalks, and we had officially arrived. The line of limos didn’t seem too long, so it would be our turn soon.
"Ask me tonight," Julian said nervously, peering out the window. The text message and previous topic were already forgotten, so I assumed he was okay. "Don't forget to keep your promise."
"Of course." I squeezed his hand. "Junk food in bed and shutting out the world."
Sophie evidently heard that, and she nodded in approval. "Oh my God, us too. Tennyson was out this morning to get us all the snacks we'd want for a lazy night under the covers. My feet are already killing me."
Well, what did she expect with six-inch shit-kickers?
"I'm taking my stunner out for a romantic dinner on a yacht," Asher said and kissed the top of Brooklyn's hand. She smiled brilliantly, and I knew they were looking forward to their vacation after today.
"I just want hot wings," Sophie said.
Tennyson smiled. "I just want you naked, so it works out great for me."
I chuckled and scooted forward in my seat, since we were next. An assistant was approaching our vehicle, speaking rapidly into her headset. Asher sat closest to the door, so he opened it and stepped out first.
Immediately, the background noise of the crowd morphed into a loud cacophony.
I stepped out too and extended my hand to Julian. Fingers wove together. A firm grip. His hand a little clammy.
"Before I forget," he said, squinting in the sunlight, "I'm so proud of you."
I grinned and kissed his hand. "Right back at'cha, baby. We make a good team."
"The best."
In-fucking-deed, and now it was time to hit the red carpet.
*
Julian became at ease halfway through the movie. He relaxed visibly, and I could tell seeing our creation helped. He believed in the project. He was satisfied with his own work.