Alex's POV
*****
Three days later, a gala was hosted by the director, Carmine Vega, and the producers.
The gala was being held at the grand Lincoln Center and would be used as yet another opportunity to market the movie, which seemed to have changed directions overnight.
"You never told me why the original direction for the movie suddenly changed after they came up with that horrible name," I muttered to Marcello when we both stepped out of my car.
The evening air was filled with a freshness that made me sigh slightly with relief, my chest feeling lighter than it had been in days. Since he who shall not be named cheated.
Guards stood watch at the bottom of the sweeping stairs leading into the plaza, but that didn't stop the paparazzi across the street from taking pictures and flashing their annoying camera lights at us.
Many even threw questions at me about the recent scandal with Vincent.
"Mister Cross! Is it true that you and Mister Moretti are sleeping together?!" One dared to shout that at the top of his lungs.
"Any explanations for the video going viral showing you and Vincent at a gay club?"
"Didn't you have a boyfriend?"
"Is this why reporters aren't being allowed at the event at all?!"
I drew in deep breaths, ignoring the questions as I adjusted the cufflinks of my polished tailored purple suit. At the same moment, Marcello placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Hey, 'Lights, Cameras and Guns' is a name that'll catch on. Trust me." He whispered as we ascended the marble stairs. "As for the movie plot... Well, I guess the original was boring. People have seen way too many college rom coms."
I rolled my eyes with a huff. "Oh, so that's why they decided to switch Vincent's character into a mafia prince and keep mine as the same backwater kid studying—"
"Shh." He hushed me, tightening his grip on me when we finally got to the plaza lit up with cold white lights. "You want to spill everything about that movie before the actual gala?"
I scoffed. "Whatever. I'm just saying this change the producers are making better be worth it."
The fountain at the center of the plaza caught the lights. Several guests were already present, dressed in lavish gowns and tuxedos and walking around or intermingling.
I trailed my eyes to the main building where the gala would be held. The grand exterior façade had tall columns and huge windows.
It all really had such a big architectural presence.
"Alex!" A familiar female voice called out from the stairs we'd just walked in from, forcing me to turn back.
Rita strutted toward us, donned in a black velvet dress and crimson stiletto heels while her hair was made into a stylish chignon.
She had a wry smile on her lips and I instantly knew why before she said anything.
"Oh, you poor thing." She stretched out her arms, pulling me into a hug while Marcello stepped away slightly. "How are you holding up?"
I managed a warm smile. "I've been better, Rita. But I'll be alright. Nothing a few more drinks and cursing into a pillow at night can't fix."
She was definitely referring to my breakup with he who shall not be named.
We talked about it on the phone, but this was the first time I was seeing her since the Golden Globes.
"Nah, I would've sued." She pulled away from the hug, finally, and folded her arms in front of her chest. "Seriously. Either that or commission one of them Etsy witches to cast a nasty hex on him."
I chuckled as we locked our arms together, about to head inside when my eyes caught something.
Or rather, someone.
Vincent Moretti.
He climbed up the sweeping stairs, walking side by side with a young woman who had wavy brown hair and wore a dazzling handless silver gown.
Vincent had a small smile as he waved at a few guests who acknowledged him, New York's Hollywood prince as always.
"Oh, here comes Mister 'allegedly straight'." Rita grinned beside me, tapping me as if I couldn't already see the jerk. "Do you want to go say hi to your co-star or—"
"I'll pass." I chimed, my jaw tightening. "We'll see each other inside."
I glanced at Marcello who was too busy scrolling through his phone to care about anything I was saying.
With a sigh, I pulled Rita along with me, walking fast just in case Vincent tried calling me back.
A waiter stood at the entrance of the building with a tray of cocktails. I didn't waste a second grabbing a glass when I got to him, taking a large gulp as we walked in.
.
.
Inside, the hall was lit with warm golden lights and several round tables arranged specially for a gala of this magnitude.
On the stage up ahead was a long table reserved for the producers, the director and then Vincent and me. It already had wine bottles placed on top of it.
I left Rita and took a seat at the table, drumming my fingers on my lap as I squinted my eyes at the hall below.
The people outside were slowly trooping in and that unfortunately included Vincent and his trophy girlfriend.
When he got to the stage and sat beside me, I looked away, pretending I had my attention fixed on something else.
That was pretty easy with all the murmuring and shuffling of seats echoing through the hall.
"Glad to see your pettiness is constant." Vincent drawled in a baritone voice that made my skin crawl weirdly.
I wore the sharpest poker face I could muster, turning my head to him and flashing a sarcastic smile. "And I'm glad to see your... Ugh, fuck off."
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, folding my arms in front of my chest as my eyes trailed to the entrance of the hall.
However, my heart jumped into my throat when I saw someone walking in. Someone I had hoped not to see anymore until I was six feet under.
Mathias.
My breathing shuddered, my fingers twitching when our eyes locked. He paused in his tracks, his hands in the pockets of his grey suit.
But the initial shock and annoying emotions I felt soon dispersed into something hotter. Something all-consuming.
Rage.
I was just about to find a way to call security when a voice boomed through a microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the first screening of our latest queer rom-com... Lights, Cameras and Guns!"
My eyes flicked to the source of the voice—the director. He walked to the front of the table, turning around and pointing at the projection screen behind us.
The hall erupted in claps and cheers, a few even whistling as camera lights flashed for the grand reveal of what I assumed would be a promo reel.
However, when I spun my neck around to see what was on the screen... My heart dropped to my stomach, my eyes widening.
"Is that Alexander Cross?!" Someone in the audience shouted while I wished I were dreaming.
Because the screen wasn't showing a promotion reel.
It was showing a video of me. In the bathroom. Butt naked!
My body shook with dread as gasps rippled through the hall, followed by light chuckles from many. My jaw tightened, humiliation biting deep into my core.