The Perfect Gift
“You should get him a gift.”
“What?” Colin looked up from his paper. Jonathan was sitting across from him, eating eggs and toast. No matter how exotic their venue, Jonathan was not one to sample foreign fare. He was an anxious guy, and he liked his food to be familiar. “What are you talking about?” Colin put his paper on the table.
Colin had, after much debate with himself, consulted Jonathan and Francisco on his dilemma with Jared—providing as few details as possible, of course. They already seemed to know everything that was going on anyway, and Colin needed some advice, never having been in such a confusing situation before.
“Oh yes, that's a good idea,” Francisco was sipping orange juice and reading his own section of the paper. Colin had a feeling he didn't need to find the English bits. “Get him a gift.”
“Get him a gift.” Colin snorted.
“No, it's a good idea.” Jonathan stabbed at his eggs with his fork. “Gifts can say a lot of things. They can say I love you, I miss you…”
“I told you it's not about that!” Colin snapped. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. “We just got in a fight, that's all. I just want to find a way to make it up to him.”
“They can also say I'm sorry,” Francisco said gently. “If it's the right kind of gift.”
Colin considered that. He took a drink of his own juice, staring at the table, brow furrowed. “What kind of gift would I even get him?”
“Well,” Jonathan swallowed, and looked at Francisco. “There's only one way to decide.”
Francisco smiled and folded up his paper. “Let's go to the markets.”
They went to Chatuchak , which was a huge, sprawling maze of a market bustling with people and filled with everything one could imagine wanting to buy, and some things never thought of. There was everything from clothes to plants to pets, jewelry, handcrafts, food, household items, and so many things they went into the unnamable. It reminded Colin of a city-size flea market.
“You can't cover everything in this market in one day,” Jonathan had a map of the place, proving it was indeed the size of a small town. He was wearing cargo pants and a loose white t-shirt, sunglasses perched atop his head. “It's divided into sections though, see? So if we decide what we want we can go there.”
“I have no idea what we want.” Colin looked around at all the people, some in modern dress and others in more traditional garments. It was noisy, sticky, and hot.
“Let's browse a little,” Francisco suggested. He was in jeans and white button-down shirt, his sunglasses also on top his head. It was yet another pair, this time with stylish red frames, and Colin wondered if he collected them. “Maybe we'll get an idea.”
They browsed, but it became evident before long that they weren't going to cover any substantial area very fast and would quickly wear themselves out if they tried.
“All right, let's start thinking here.” Jonathan was on one side of Colin, Francisco on the other. “We'll name some things. How about jewelry?”
Colin made a face. “Too girly.”
Jonathan paused, frowning. He looked Colin over, eyeing the cluster of necklaces around his neck, the layers of wrist gear, the rings on his fingers.
“I mean giving him jewelry would be girly!” Colin explained. “You don't give a man jewelry. If you're another man, I mean.”
Francisco frowned and looked down at the slender gold bracelet on his wrist.
“No jewelry!” Colin made a forceful gesture, his bracelets rattling. “Something else!”
They walked on, gazing into and pausing at the various stalls.
“What about pottery?” Jonathan said dryly. “Nothing says ‘I'm sorry I was an insufferable prick' like a good piece of pottery.”
“That makes no sense,” Colin was already getting frustrated and didn't feel like joking around.
“Oh but it does.” Francisco smiled sweetly. “He can bust it over your head, then he'll feel better.”
They moved on, Jonathan and Francisco presenting various ideas and Colin shooting them all down. No clothes, that was worse than jewelry. Flowers were insipid, as was candy. Colin knew nothing about guitars or what kind Jared played. There were CDs, but Jared already had an extensive music collection and Colin had no idea what he already had. Cologne, while sophisticated and interesting, was something you had to try out yourself, if you wanted to make sure it smelled right on you. Colin was running out of creative excuses.
“You know, I'm reminded of something my father always said to me,” Jonathan said, when they paused to get drinks in a little building where food was being served. “He always said, when you give someone a gift as an apology, it should not only fit the sin, but give them back what you took from them.”
Colin considered this, taking a sip of tea from his Styrofoam cup. It reminded him of mint tea, and he paused, gazing down at it. “What's that supposed to mean?” He asked.
“Well, what was your sin?” They sat down at a little table near the doors. Francisco had several bags now, and he started sifting through them.
Colin thought about it for a moment, holding his tea and gazing out the door at the people passing by. “Pride, I guess.” He took a sip.
“Well then,” Jonathan smacked his hand down on the table. “You've got to show him your—” he cleared his throat and gave Colin a condescending smile. “Friendship with him is more important to you than your pride.”
Colin frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
“You have to humiliate yourself.” Francisco shifted the bags at his feet and smiled at Colin. “You have to put yourself on the line and show him you don't care what other people think of you.”
The thought made Colin's insides cringe. “That doesn't sound like it would help either one of us.”
“Well, you have to do the rest of what my father said too,” Jonathan said. He reminded Colin of his mother at that moment, lecturing him. “You've got to give him back what you took away from him.”
“I didn't take anything from him!” Colin said, his voice getting a bit high-pitched.
“Then why's he so mad at you?” Jonathan smirked. “Think about it Colin. Think hard about it. This is a metaphorical taking away, not like you stole his watch or something.”
“I don't know,” Colin snorted. But he thought about it, his cup hovering beneath his lips. He took a sip, and thought about it some more. “I don't know,” he finally said again. “His peace of mind? His child-like sense of wonder?”
“His faith in you?” Francisco said softly. He was gazing at Colin with those dark, knowing eyes.
Colin wasn't sure what to say to that. He wasn't entirely convinced that Jared had ever had any faith in him. Really, what did it mean to have faith? Did he believe in him? Was that why he had such strong feelings for him, believing that Colin was more than the sum of his parts? He thought of what Jared had said about that day in the Sahara. The first time he realized you had a heart …
“Well, I don't think a piece of pottery is going to restore that,” Colin said, sitting his cup on the table. “No matter how much it costs. Or how easy it breaks.”
“Maybe you should make him something,” Jonathan suggested. “Give him something from the heart.”
“I'll get out my needlepoint,” Colin gave him a withering look.
“You know, maybe he's right Colin.” Francisco, as always, spoke with the gentle voice of reason. “A gift isn't necessarily something you can hold in your hands, especially if it's something from the heart.” He leaned forward, and brushed his fingers over the back of Colin's hand. They were soft. “And sometimes,” he lowered his voice, looking at Colin knowingly. “When pride is very strong, even the smallest gesture can make huge ripples.”
They sat and finished their tea, in silence for a while, and then Jonathan and Francisco started discussing their purchases. Colin barely listened to them, chewing things over in his head. He drummed his fingers on the table, his mind flitting from thought to thought. He stared at the floor, then at the wall. Finally his eyes focused on the sunlight slanting on the ground outside, and widened as something struck him.
He finished off his tea and crumpled the cup, determination surging through him. “You guys think we can find a one-hour photo around here somewhere?”
****
That afternoon, Colin sat in his chair in front of the makeup table, studying his script. The studio they were using in Bangkok was relatively small, so most of the actors had to share a dressing room. There was a long row of vanities and mirrors, chairs set up in front of them. Colin was in costume, his long blond wig and makeup already on, head propped on his hand, mouthing the words as he read. They were filming Cleitus' death scene, so Gary and Val were among those sharing the room.
He heard Val snort, pulling him out of his concentration. “Getting a bit heavy into your character, aren't you?” He flopped down in the chair beside him.
Colin didn't look up. A thousand defenses flew to mind. He was an actor, he was trying to better understand his character, yes of course that was the reason for it. He didn't though, reminding himself that this was a test, to see if his regret was stronger than his pride.
The dressing room filled up, makeup people and hairdressers coming in to get the actors in order. Colin ignored everyone, concentrating on his script. He had learned to focus in noisy places.
“Aw, that's sweet,” a woman's voice said above his head. Her fingers spread out the strands of his wig. He glanced up at her face in the mirror. She was smiling. “You guys are cute.”
Colin said nothing. As he was looking back down though, he caught a glimpse of Jared coming through the door behind him. He looked back up and watched him in the mirror.
He was dressed in track pants and a green t-shirt, a bulging duffel bag hanging from one arm and a water bottle in his opposite hand. His lengthened hair was messy over his shoulders and he had shaved. He glanced up, though not at Colin, the fluorescent lights reflecting in his eyes. “Over here Mr. Leto,” someone called, motioning to the empty chair on the other side of Colin.
Colin looked back down at his script. He heard Jared move into the chair beside him, felt the thump as he dropped his duffel bag on the floor between them. Colin smelled his cologne, gusting over him briefly. “I'll be right back Mr. Leto,” a woman said. “I need to get the brushes.”
Colin shifted in his seat, one leg crossed over the other, bobbing his dangling foot as he read. He was reading the same line over and over though, his heart in his throat. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jared turned his way, sitting stock-still.
“Colin.” Jared said.
Colin looked up, forcing a look onto his face as if he had no idea that something was amiss. “Huh?” He asked casually.
Jared was staring at Colin's mirror. His mouth opened a little, then he closed it. He looked at Colin. Colin couldn't read his expression, and he hoped that wasn't a bad sign.
“Where did you get that?” Jared asked.
Colin looked at the mirror, as if just noticing what was there. He knew where the picture had come from, well enough. It was a party after shooting, one night in Melilla—Colin was drunk, Angelina had a camera and she'd been laughing, telling them she wanted a shot of Alexander and Hephaistion for posterity. Colin had snatched the roll of film out of her camera in the morning, intending to throw it away, but he never had.
“That party in Melilla. There were some funny shots on that roll,” Colin chuckled. He looked over at Val on the other side of him and smirked. “One of you with some broad's panties on your head.”
Val snickered, one eye now missing. “That was one hell of a drunken night.”
“Was it ever.” Colin looked back at Jared, who was staring at the picture again. “Got a few shots of you Jared, doing some incriminating things.”
Jared looked back at Colin. He was still unreadable. “I gotta go to the bathroom,” he said. He got up, saying the same thing to the girl who was coming back with the brushes and gave him an exasperated look.
Colin put his script on the table in front of him, glancing up at the picture of him and Jared, lips smooshed together, Jared's nose crushed against Colin's cheek as they kissed. He'd bought a strip of stickers at the market and had it pinned up with a glittery pink heart. He got up and went after Jared.
He met up with him out in the hallway. “Listen!” Colin said. Jared stopped, and looked back at him. His eyes were dark. “Do you know what it took for me to do that? What it's still taking for me to leave it up there?”
Jared stared at him for a long moment, then he turned toward him fully and crossed his arms over his chest. He tossed his hair back out of his face. “So why do you have it up?” He asked. His gaze was intense.
“Because,” Colin opened his hands in supplication. “I…please don't make me say it too. You don't know what you're asking of me, Jared. You never take it easy on me.”
Jared was silent, still staring at him. Colin had a whole speech prepared, but it was gone now. His mind was racing, his heart was racing, and all he wanted was for Jared to say something. Something that would let him know this wasn't in vain.
“Jared,” Colin said softly. “I spent all day trying to figure out a gift for you, to try to make things up to you. And then I realized—what you need most from me is an apology.”
Jared tilted his chin up slightly. He didn't speak, but Colin saw the light in his eyes change.
“I'm so sorry,” Colin stumbled over his words, but struggled to keep his footing. “I'm sorry that I have this image I feel I have to maintain at any cost. I'm sorry I'm so worried about what the world will think of me, even when I'm behind closed doors. I'm sorry that I can't be wild and crazy and carefree like you are. Few people can, Jared.”
Jared still said nothing, but he was listening. Listening closely, and studying Colin's face. Colin knew he couldn't lie, he would read it in an instant.
“You have to be gentle with me,” Colin said. He felt so vulnerable, so split open at the moment, and he wondered where he would end up when he finally came crashing to a halt. “I'm one tough bastard, but I don't know anything about this place you want to take me. I'm scared. Can you understand that? Do you know what fear is at all?”
Jared started strolling toward him. Colin's voice went up a notch. “God how wonderful it would be to live in the world you live in Jared! Where everything is simple for you, where you take what you want without fear of consequence. But I don't live in that world and I never will. If you can accept that—well, I can accept that you won't ever live in a world where caution and pride drive everything you do. And maybe we can compromise.”
Jared stopped in front of him. They stared into each other's eyes. Colin said softly, “Don't lose faith in me. Just give me a chance.”
Jared unfolded his arms. He focused his gaze on Colin's chest, as if thinking about it. After a long, tense moment he looked up, and gave Colin a little smile. Jared reached out, picking up one of the strands of Colin's wig from his shoulder. He gave it a tug. “I never would have had faith in you in the first place if I didn't believe you were capable of something like this.”
Colin nearly melted into the floor. Relief came pouring down like cold water after a long day in the Sahara.
“Now go take that stupid picture off the mirror,” Jared shook his head, smiling, his eyelashes fluttering. “I don't think I even remember that night.”
Colin smiled, then laughed. “No, no I don't think I will.” He thought about it—the world hadn't ended, no one had thought he was gay. People thought he was doing it to be in character. People thought it was cute. “It's cute.” He chuckled. “And who cares?” He snorted. “It's just a stupid picture. We were drunk when it was taken!”
Jared gave him a critical look, but he was still smiling. “We'll see how long this resolve lasts.”
“We better get back in there,” Colin reached over, fluffing Jared's extensions. “They'll be yelling at you soon if you don't get in costume.”
Jared smiled, then turned to go back in the dressing room. Just like that. No teasing, no pressuring, not even a stolen kiss. Colin could suddenly see the concept of giving a little slack and getting some in return. He followed Jared.
“I did get you a gift though,” Colin said. “Do you like pottery?”
****
“How'd you like kissing my boyfriend?” Jonathan was walking alongside Colin as they made their way out to their cars, duffel bags over their shoulders. It was just after sunset, and the glittering, beckoning city lay like a sinful promise in the valley below. It was a night to go out.
“Oh God, it was orgasmic,” Colin moaned and patted his mouth. “I think I still have his spit on my lips. All that tongue.”
There was laughter from behind them, and Jonathan smacked Colin on the arm. Jared piped up. “Boyfriend is it now?”
“I'm not quite so firmly wedged in my closet as some people around here,” Jonathan gave Colin a pointed look.
“I don't know,” Colin looked around at Francisco. Francisco smiled back at him. “After that kiss, I don't think I am either.”
Jonathan didn't seem very amused, though everyone else was. “Get over it Jonathan,” Colin said. “Come have a drink with us. The city beckons!” He made a sweeping gesture toward the lights.
“Did you give him his pottery?” Francisco asked as they paused at Colin's car, congregating around the driver's side door.
“Oh God, I'm all aflutter,” Jared wiggled and ran his hands over himself. “Some pot, just for me!”
Colin smiled and unlocked the back door as Jonathan and Francisco cackled. He dug into the bag sitting on the seat, and pulled out a wide bowl with handles, painted with bright, colorful stripes. He turned and held it out to Jared, presenting it as one might present Alexander's chalice to him. Jared eyed it.
“It's hand made,” Francisco said. “And hand painted.”
“And breaks over a guy's head real easy,” Jonathan said.
Jared took it and peered into it, then looked up at Colin. “What in the name of hell am I gonna do with this?”
“I was gonna put beer in it, if you didn't want it,” Colin shrugged. “See if I can chug like Alexander.”
They laughed, and Jared wrapped his arms around it. He gave Colin a little smile. “Well, thank you.”
“So are we going out or what!” Jonathan said, moving away from the car. “We meeting you guys back at the hotel?”
Colin looked at Jared. Jared gazed back at him. “Are we going out?” Colin asked.
“Let's.” Jared smiled. “I'll bring my pot so we can fill it with beer.”
Colin watched him walk to his car, the bowl dangling from one hand, his hair shifting on his shoulders, duffel bag thumping against his hip. There was one thing Colin had never been able to deny even in his most steadfast moments, and that was that Jared took your breath away even when he was at his most mundane. He wondered just how the rest of his time in Thailand was going to be spent.
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