Señor and Mr. Smith

At the pinnacle of Ritchie’s career directors groveled and fans flocked to see him. Now, however, he was about ready to prostitute himself for the next available movie, tv show, or hell, commercial gig he could find. He’d considered seeking a book deal, but second guessed anyone’s interest in a washed up - “seasoned” as his wife would lovingly say - actor, so the idea continued to linger. While Ritchie and his wife, Jayne, were by no means destitute, and were still “rich” by most people standards, if he didn’t get a job in the near future, their finances would be tight. He was accustomed to a certain lifestyle and parting with his house staff would be a hard pill to swallow. Jayne repeatedly told Ritchie that she loved him despite the money. He believed her because they survived on ramen in college. Now, thirty years later, they were both still happily married. Jayne’s only complaint about Ritchie’s lack of a job was that he moped around the house 24/7. He became slightly more optimistic though, when he received a call from his agent advising him of an upcoming movie that advertised itself as a “fresh take” on Mr. and Mrs. Smith.It was purported to be a revitalized version of the classic spy movie troupe where the husband and wife were sent to eliminate each other.

On the drive to the audition, Ritchie attempted to keep his expectations low, but the possibility of becoming the next Brad Pitt excited him. Unlike previous auditions, he had not been provided with a script because the director was apparently trying something new. When Ritchie arrived, he was ushered into a waiting room that held roughly fifty other men. Normally, he would people watch. Today, he was too overwhelmed, so he focused on his phone instead.

“Ritchie Sampson and Henry Martin.” A voiced called.

Ritchie cursed under his breath and considered walking out. Henry had just finished a movie. It wouldn’t be fair, thought Ritchie, if Henry stole the role. Too many years ago, Ritchie had befriended a poor Spanish boy, Enrique Martinez. Enrique had had a hard time making friends, so Ritchie had taken him under his wing.Ritchie had helped Enrique with school work, and in exchange, Enrique had taught him Spanish. In elementary school, they became mejores amigos (best friends) and did everything together. In high school, however, they began to drift apart. Ritchie had not expected Enrique to be a copycat. Ritchie’s friends became Enrique’s. Ritchie joined the soccer team, and Enrique became a soccer star.Resentment festered when Enrique anglicized his name and told Ritchie he was an aspiring actor as well. Hollywood fell in love with Henry. Even in Ritchie’s successes, Henry’s shadow loomed.

Ritchie stood and sized up his competitor. Henry might be American, but his roots made him a Hollywood god and the Spanish equivalent of Fabio. Ritchie ran his hand through his short hair. Jayne called him a silver fox; he didn’t believe her. Maybe he should start copying Henry. Maybe he should dye his hair obsidian too. While Ritchie was slim, Henry was muscular, and Ritchie mentally added go to the gym to his to do list.

Ritchie and Henry followed the voice down a hallway and into another room. There were a few people behind a table, and in front, were two chairs facing each other. The pair took their seats “center stage.”

“¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?” Henry muttered.

“Aw, didn’t expect to have some competition, did you? Ritchie smiled.

They stared silently at each other until one of the assistants spoke.

“Mr. Martin, you’re going to read the part of Charlie, and Mr. Sampson, you’re going to read the part of Leo, his husband.”

“Wait, what?” Ritchie responded. “I thought this was Mr. and Mrs. Smith?”

“Didn’t you hear? It’s a fresh take on the movie. Think of it more as Mr. and Mr. Smith.” One of the faces behind the table replied.

“This is great.” Henry laughed. “I cannot wait to tell my husband. ¿Qué vas a hacer, Ritchie?”

Ritchie was silent.

“If you’ve changed your mind, then the door is that way, otherwise, let’s start,” the face said.

Both men remained in their seats.

***

When Ritchie’s agent told him the good news, he didn’t know how to feel; it was foreign territory. His embarrassment stemmed from insecurity rather than homophobia. In his many years of acting, he had never been cast as a gay man, and he was afraid he wouldn’t do the role justice. When he learned that Henry would be his husband, Ritchie considered throwing in the towel. Jayne convinced him to give it a chance.

On the first day of filming Ritchie and Henry only spoke to each other through the script. They avoided each other during breaks. The scenes performed that day did not involve the dreaded kiss, although, the director was agitated because they were not connecting with each other.

The second day of filming started like the first until, as they were rehearsing a serious scene, Ritchie flubbed his line. He restarted and flubbed it again. Henry cracked a smile. The third time Ritchie messed up, Henry started laughing. Initially annoyed, Ritchie broke down and laughed too. Later on that day, Henry completely forgot his line and had to have someone read it to him. They laughed again.

“The blooper reel is off to a great start.” Ritchie chuckled.

On the third day, their fake marriage was still on the verge of a divorce. This day, they had at least acknowledged each other with a hello. While they had stunt doubles to perform the harder stunts, Ritchie and Henry still had some of their own. In one particular scene, Ritchie had to chase Henry across some rooftops. These rooftops were part of the set and, therefore, not real, but had some gaps that the couple had to jump. Henry jumped first and successfully landed. When Ritchie jumped, however, his foot got caught and he fell. There was a puffy mat at the bottom, but Ritchie landed hard enough that it knocked the wind out of him. When he came to, Henry’s face was the first one he saw.

“Dios mío! Are you okay?” Henry asked.

“Si, si, I’m fine.Just a little shaken. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Ritchie smirked.

Henry grabbed Ritchie’s hand and pulled him to a seated position.

Ritchie squeezed slightly before letting go. “Gracias.”

After Ritchie’s fall, they stopped filming for the day. He was told to go home and rest. Assuming he was cleared by the medic, he could resume tomorrow. Ritchie had not planned on telling Jayne about his incident, but she was already waiting for him when he arrived home because Henry had been worried. Jayne, of course, rambled on about how she worries about him doing stunts; the director shouldn’t make him do any…yada yada yada.

“I’m okay, dear. It’s okay.” Ritchie wrapped her in a hug.

Later that evening, Ritchie paced back and forth in the living room. Jayne asked him what was wrong.

“I have to kiss Henry tomorrow.” He said.

“Honey, you’re overthinking it. You’ve kissed people on set before.” Jayne said.

“This is different.”

“Because he’s a guy?”

“Well, I don’t know. If it were a different guy, maybe…I can’t kiss Henry!” He said.

“Just pretend it’s me.” She said. “We can practice.”

He laughed. “I can’t do that! I certainly don’t mind practicing though.”

The practicing had been fun, but hadn’t relieved Ritchie’s anxiety. He walked into rehearsal sweaty and shaky. He paced around the set moving his limbs pretending to warm up. He saw Henry, but kept his distance like a scared bird. Henry sensed Ritchie’s apprehension and didn’t approach. Pretty soon it was time for the scene. The set had been transformed into a living room. Ritchie sank into the plush beige couch. Henry carried in a tray of grape juice in wine glasses, grapes, and cheese. He set the tray on the coffee table and sat down next to Ritchie. The actors had been told to improvise the small details leading up to the kiss. Normally, Ritchie excelled at improvisation. This time, his mind had turned into much; his heart was hammering. Henry attempted to feed Richie a grape, but it hit Ritchie’s lip and fell to the floor.

“Sorry.” Ritchie said.

“It’s okay.” Henry said.

They were successful on the second try, but the scene was still clumsy.

“Relax.” Henry whispered.

Ritchie was jealous of how easily Henry fell into character, and Ritchie almost believed that Henry loved him. Henry’s eyes danced in the dim light as he stared at him.

Damn. He really is a sexy son of a bitch. Ritchie thought as he blushed. Suddenly, Henry’s hand was on Ritchie’s thigh and he inhaled sharply. It was a little strange, but Ritchie was committed. It was his turn, he decided, so he reached up and brushed a strand of Henry’s hair out of his face. They both leaned into each other and almost bonked their heads. Henry’s suave last minute head turn saved the scene. The kiss started softly and then became more desperate as if they wanted to devour each other. They kept going until they heard the director yell, “and that’s a wrap!”

***

The theater was packed for the premiere. Henry and Ritchie sat in the middle with their respective spouses at their sides.

“You know, I never did thank you.” Henry said.

“What do you mean?” Ritchie asked.

“For putting up with me. I knew acting was your thing. I just wanted to be like you.”

“That was years ago. It doesn’t matter now.”

“It does though. Just know that I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for you, so I’m very grateful.”Henry said.

“I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about wanting to act too.”

“I deserved it.” Henry said.

“No, you didn’t. Frankly, if I didn’t have you to compete with, I would be half the actor that I am today, so thank you.”

“How about we kiss and make up?” Henry laughed.

“Been there, done that!” Ritchie laughed too. “Does this mean we’re made up?”

“Sounds good to me. Mejores amigos?”

“Si, mejores amigos.”