Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio didn’t have to come out and tell the world they’re straight. If they post a picture with a woman, there’s no need for a goddamned press conference.
“No. God no.”
“What?” I barely manage to ask.
“No. Actually, I don’t think you should talk to anyone about it right now. The internet may be forever, but people forget. You should be able to talk about this when you’re ready. And you don’t sound ready.”
They’ll never let it go until I do an interview, or multiple interviews. I know it, and Paul knows it too. They already follow me everywhere I go. Now that this story is out, they’ll be on me every second of the day. I’m sure they’re already outside right now. Just waiting. Waiting for me to talk. Waiting for my official statement. Waiting to catch me doing something.
“So what? I just hide in my penthouse? Wait them out?”
“Nope,” he answers almost too easily. “You’re between jobs right now, so it’s actually good timing. I’m booking you on a two a.m. flight. I’ll have a car pick you up downstairs. You say nothing.”
Even though I have a private entrance to my penthouse and can exit through my own personal garage, there’ll still be paparazzi waiting at the airport. “But . . .”
“I’m sure some press will be at the airport, but at two a.m., there’s a good bet there won’t be as many. You get on that plane, and you don’t say a word.”
I feel completely numb. “Where exactly am I going?”
“The Black Diamond Resort and Spa.”
“What?”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry. It’ll be like an exotic vacation. It’s a beautiful island. Very elite. Very, very private.”
“An island vacation?” Is this seriously happening?
“Yes. Don’t worry. It’ll have all the amenities you’re used to. And they’ll protect your privacy at all costs.”
I think about every vacation I’ve ever had—with pictures snapped of me every two seconds.
“How is that even possible?”
“Trust me. Privacy is everything at the Black Diamond. You’ll be safe there. I’m booking it all now. Be ready.”
From my experience, nothing is private. But I guess I’ll just have to trust Paul on this.
CHAPTER TWO
Elijah
Okay. This does seem different from all the other vacations I’ve taken, even the so-called island getaways. There were some paparazzi waiting at the airport, but not many. And I managed to dodge their questions before hopping on the plane.
And when I finally arrived at the Black Diamond Resort, there were none. And I mean none. I’ve never seen anything like it.
No one had their phone out, recording me. The island is fairly quiet, as far as I can tell. Yes, there are some people, but they all seem to be in their own world. I had to sign something guaranteeing the privacy of the other guests here. No posting pictures of anyone on any form of social media. No names are to be used whatsoever.
It was a long contract, and I’m beat, if I’m honest.
After going through all the privacy restrictions, I was finally escorted to my own private villa. It’ll do, I suppose. It’s not overly large, but like Paul said, it seems to have all the amenities I’m accustomed to.
There’s a private pool and a private patio, although the next villa over is a little close for my liking. But I suppose it makes sense on an island. There’s not that much room.
It is private though.
And if anyone here knows who I am, they don’t show it. I saw several people I recognized in the golf cart ride to my villa. Senators. Fellow actors. Musicians.
How did I not know this place existed?
It’s clearly a place for the richest of the rich to escape.
I feel a little insulted I didn’t know about it until now. But then again, I’ve never had any type of scandal before.
Nope. Elijah Hunt III does not have scandal in his life.
Born in the middle of nowhere Texas and immediately cast into commercials at only two years old, I then starred in a hit sitcom for ten seasons. People thought I’d just fade away, and honestly, that’s what I did for a few years after the show wrapped.
I went to college. I kept my head down. Didn’t date. Didn’t party. I didn’t do anything but study and then graduate like a good boy.
There was no reason for the media to pay attention to me.
Then I was cast in my first action role in a movie, which led to four more in the franchise. At that point, the media began to salivate for me to do something stupid. Something out of character. Something they could report on.
But I gave them nothing.
I rarely went to clubs. The few friends I made came to my house. We didn’t go out often unless it was planned.
Christopher . . . I met him through a mutual friend. He came to my house, and somehow at the end of the night, it ended up just being the two of us. I’d had hookups, here and there, in college. Always discreet. Never stayed the night. Never gave them a way to contact me.
But Christopher was different. He clung on, and I liked it. I liked having someone I didn’t have to hide from.
Turns out, I should’ve hidden a lot more from him and cut him out of my life a long time ago.
I’m not ashamed of being gay. I don’t think it’s a sin or a choice, but I also don’t think it’s anyone else’s business. So no, I didn’t want to come out in a big way. I didn’t want to go out in public with him, and I know that was painful.
I know I hurt him. So honestly, who can I blame for this mess but myself?
My phone rings, and I answer it in a huff, “Paul.”
“Did you make it to the Black Diamond?”
“I did.” I head out to the patio by the sparkling pool, taking a seat in one of the loungers. “It’s beautiful.”
“I told you. And I don’t see any videos of you yelling at the press or talking to them at all. So you did well.”
“I’m well-trained.” My tone is bitter, but whatever. I am bitter. Maybe it’s time to quit acting altogether.
“Don’t pout, Elijah. It’ll all blow over.”
“Any more directions for me?” I grumble, looking at the sunset. Brilliant orange and purple fill the sky with palm trees as the backdrop. It’s breathtaking.
“Yes.” No surprise there.
“And what are they?” I ask, irritated.
“Relax.”
That’s not remotely what I expected. “What?”
“You heard me. Relax. Go surfing or swimming. Go on a hike. Enjoy it there. Relax. For the first time in your life.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. “I relax.”
I’m met with a knowing chuckle. “No. You don’t.”
I grimace at that because no, I guess I don’t. I’ve either been working or going to school for most of my life.
“Fine.”
“And Elijah?”
“Yes?”
“No posts. None. Don’t give them any clues about where you are. Not that they could access that place anyway. But to be safe, no hints.”
“No problem.” I want nothing to do with social media anyway. Just the few moments of browsing on the phone with Paul yesterday was enough for me.