Work Text:
UNCHAINED MELODY by Natasha Barry
RPS Ryan/Simon. RYMON: AMERICAN IDOL. A speculative imagining of Season 2, second story in the series 1-8. Posted to Squidge/Makebelieve in 2009, edited 2024.
Simon Cowell was enjoying a near-perfect life. He had money and the promise of more wealth to come, and he’d achieved fame in the biggest market in the world, the United States. Fame, and the influence that went with it.
Most of all, he had a lover who fulfilled his fantasies, since he was warm and sensual and not dependent upon him, even though he was several years younger, as well as stunning to look at, so there were no shortage of admirers for young Ryan.
Not being the boy he was years ago, it would have been easy for Simon to say that time had passed him by for fortune and love, but everything he most desired came late in life to him, perhaps at the time he could best appreciate it. That was something he struggled to explain to his young lover.
Weeks ago, as if he’d sensed his mood, Ryan had asked, “What is it?” during their Miami hotel stay.
This season – during the audition phase in that city – Simon rerouted them from the IDOL assigned lodgings to a luxury hotel near the beach. It was a risk, as there was bound to be talk among the crew, as to the reason behind their sharing a suite apart from the others, but the view from their balcony justified the gamble.
He didn’t know which site he favored more, the gorgeous Atlantic this far south – so different from the gray seas to be found at the British Isles – or the wide-set green of his partner’s eyes. Perhaps the two mingled were unstoppable.
“Life is beautiful.”
Ryan said, “The movie?”
He laughed. “It’s being with you in this city. Maybe I should buy a place here? What do you think?”
“Do you need Miami when you have Barbados?”
“You’re right. You keep me practical. And that means having you come to Barbados with me next time.” Sadly, with the increase in their personal fortunes, the distinct drawback was the amount of personal time at their disposal.
“If I can.”
Simon realized it was too vague, this ridiculous romance of two men of different continents. “We’ll take it each day as it comes.”
“Sure.”
The agreement came too quickly for Simon’s taste.
Though he’d fancied himself in love before, he knew this time the initial R was cut into his heart, as if Zorro had carved it there.
With Ryan came beaches and oceans and sea breezes and sunsets and Cristal and snug bottoms and silk sheets. But also a level of insecurity.
He stepped up to Ryan, putting his arm along the man’s waist and drawing him in closer, so Ryan snuggled with his head resting against Simon’s own, wrapping his arms around the stout waist.
It was the moonlight with Ryan and Simon couldn’t be happier even as he felt the sigh of contentment from Ryan himself.
This was the one thing the excitement of boy band sex and rentboys couldn’t do for you, because with Ryan there was never the want or the need to say good-bye in the morning.
The idyll provided by the otherwise frustrating auditions was broken when the show resumed in Los Angeles for that major cutting back of the competitors.
As usual, the judges were elated at confronting those sequestered, pretending to send home contestants that were otherwise staying. Of course the counterpoint to that was delivering the bad news to the ones not being put through to the next round.
A lot of press and excitement and publicity greeted this second season, more than had the first, given its immediate and resounding success, which had been a surprise to the participants. With the firm success of the show and the tension only sweet between himself and Ryan, Simon specifically as well as the IDOL family was a happy one, all basking in the glow of their honeymoon. This season, there was none of the insecurities plaguing the on-air talent as occurred the prior year.
This was the number one show in the U.S., though that couldn’t last forever. Yet they were enjoying the fruits of that success and in varying degrees were bankrolling that success into other arenas.
And Simon wasn’t alone in that, not professionally or personally. Though Terri was present for most of the public social occasions with Ryan and also lived in Simon’s house, she proved to be a pleasant companion, so even Ryan got along with her. In fact, Simon at one point had to tell Ryan to stop kissing his girlfriend, as it would only cause talk. Officially, Ryan had a girlfriend as well, another one along for the ride.
“I’m terrible at romancing women,” Ryan confided in a sit down with Terri while in Simon’s house. “It’s so hard for me to focus. If a girl says it’s taking me thirty seconds for me to make up my mind I wouldn’t call her a liar.”
Simon was amazed. “You’re not ashamed to admit that.”
“Women are complicated and deserve more. I don't have time.”
Terri was trying hard to contain a laugh. “Like you’re so great with women,” she teased Simon.
“I know, but I can fake better than that.” At least he thought he must, really. He often had women friends.
Recently, he’d changed his hair style and altered his walk, in order to be less queenly.
Terri tried coaching Ryan on how to treat a woman, which Simon found hilarious. When Terri started describing how to properly go down on a woman, Ryan’s face pulled in several directions at once and he got up and sped away, “Bathroom!”
“Does he need a beard?”
“It’s probably too late for him. He’s hardly passable as straight,” Simon told her. “It’s obvious when he likes a woman it’s because she’s like a sister to him.”
His relatives back home were in on his success, as his mother visited him in the States in order to meet the new boyfriend her son bent her ear over, and Ryan introduced her to America when she sat in the audience.
“Lovely young man, but rather delicate, isn’t he?” was her remark after spending time with Ryan and himself. Ryan had gone off and the two of them were left at his rented home, Terri having gone off to fetch takeaway.
“It appears that way.”
“Is he a dancer?” She knew all about dancers, of course, having been one herself. “Deceptively slender, but tough as steel,” she recalled.
“Ryan wishes he were a dancer.”
“Ryan has a good sense of humor; I see why you were drawn to him.”
It was Ryan having problems with his family’s acceptance of the romance, not Simon.
With his cigarette between the fingers of one hand and his phone in the other, Simon would often be on the soundstage an hour before air-time, sometimes attending the run-through, otherwise keeping a watchful eye on his California-blond lover, Ryan Seacrest, while conducting his transatlantic business over the phone. If anyone asked, he didn’t mind if he passed for the lovesick fool he undoubtedly was. But if someone were rude enough to inquire his presence, Simon’s reply would be off-hand: “I’ve a meeting with Nigel” or someone else he’d spotted earlier, it didn’t matter. If Ryan stopped and asked, “What are you doing here?” Simon’s reply would be a shrug, sometimes a wink. As long as he wasn’t kicked out of the building because of the lingering cigarette, he was able to stand and appreciate his lover’s beauty, especially those sharp green eyes and the fact Ryan may be of an Irish name but he wasn’t the pale, freckled wreck that lineage entailed.
Sometimes they risked it, if they’d had lunch together, arriving at the show in the same car, but not often, as normally Ryan was at the radio station and they’d continue to the IDOL stage separately.
Someone slapped him on the back and he turned to confront Randy, his fellow judge on the show. “Countdown to the finale,” said Jackson.
It was a reminder Simon was particularly keen on the contestant Ruben, a big man with a low-key but pleasant personality. He wanted the singer signed to his record company, but knew an IDOL win would ensure sales that were otherwise negligible. He needed Ruben in that finale, even if he lost to the rising threat of Clay.
Clay was almost a sure thing, never a judge’s favorite, but he’d become the one the audience favored, the unsung hero coming from behind, just as the year before the audience discovered Kelly. So the only threat to a sure-thing finale of Clay and Ruben was if Kimberley continued coming on strong. He had nothing against another male-female finale as they had that last year (though it galled him his own favorite, Tamyra, hadn’t made it to the finals), but he felt Clay was a done deal and so that left only one vacancy and he needed it to be Ruben. He couldn’t take another year of his favorite being squandered by the audience.
“Who do you think is going to win?” Right now, that was the only thing on his mind.
Randy shrugged, but, “I like Ruben, but Clay has a lock on the crowd. He has a hell of a voice, can’t fault them for that. He's working with a style coach, too, trying to emulate Ryan.”
“What about Kimberley?”
“She’s cool, classy. She’s more suited to church, I think, maybe gospel. I like the other Kimberly,” referring to Caldwell. The media could have termed this the year of the Kimberlys as there had been so many reaching the upper echelon of the competition.
“That’s what I think, about the black one.” The blonde was Caldwell, Randy’s wildcard pick for the year. Simon disliked having to keep track of the contestants’ surnames, until they got into the final ten he had a problem even with what they were called. “She’s ambitious, but…“ He shrugged, leaving it unsaid he thought the business better left to those whose ambition made them cut-throat. He had the feeling Clay fit this bill better than anyone among the current crop, which again made him worried the young man with the deliberately deceptive homespun charm would win against the others. With his pleasant demeanor and the surprise factor of his voice, Clay was proving to be a repeat of that fairy tale quality which crowned Kelly last year.
In step, he and Randy moved to stand near the judges table as the run-through pushed forward, a less fanciful production of the forthcoming finished product designed to have the staging and timing locked in for the broadcast. As well, the contestants were singing live with the band as they would do during the show. It was a chance for the judges to sit in and make up their minds for the evening in advance of the show itself, since rarely did the performances alter from what was done in rehearsal. The timing was too tight, the arrangements set, and the singer dare not veer from what was already set in stone, lest chaos reign upon execution of the performance. Technically the judges didn’t have to attend, they could choose to be unspoiled for the audience performance, but it was customary to arrive before the show in case there were staging issues regarding themselves, though Paula was conspicuously late this time.
“I’m glad nobody’s complaining you and I aren’t punching each other out this year.”
“You frighten me.”
“Oh,” Randy said, “I’m a pussycat.”
“A panther, maybe,” countered Simon.
Randy chuckled, dropping into a seat at the judges table. He eyed the singer on-stage and then glanced around, complaining, “Where’s Paula?” as if it were the title of a hit show.
Simon was dismissive. “She won’t miss a live show.”
“I guess you’re right. The auditions are better when she’s absent, though.”
Simon shrugged as he was enjoying a cigarette, rare for him inside the venue, but at least he was allowed to smoke before the audience was brought in, as long as he kept away from the contestants and their fragile throats.
Speaking of throats, he kept an eye on his golden boy, Ryan, as the lithe blond appeared on-stage. It seemed he and Nigel were estimating the countdown, trying to figure in the time allotted for the judges to offer their opinions, then Ryan was continuing with the scripted introduction of the next singer who stepped out in full performance attire.
At least the fun part was every year the show was providing him a new surprise, which kept his interest alive. Last year it was Kelly the public discovered, this year it was Clay. Of course it would be easier if the Americans did whatever he told them to do. Of course when he said so, Ryan called him arrogant.
Ryan turned out to have a good eye, or ear, or instinct. He’d been a devotee of Kelly right off, and this year he’d told Simon he needed to watch out for Clay, not to mention Kimberley being top when it came to the girls. Ryan liked Ruben a lot, fortunately, making the big man his buddy, or Simon would be seriously worried he’d backed the wrong horse.
In public, of course, Simon couldn’t let it seem Ryan had special insight. In fact, in person he disparaged the young man’s notions left and right. It was for his own good, as he couldn’t let Ryan get ideas above his station. He was good as a host, and that took skills Ryan was busy perfecting. If Ryan knew how invaluable he could be as a judge, well, the rest of them might be out of business. Though it would be rather fun, albeit too distracting, having Ryan sitting in Paula’s chair.
Damn, but Ryan had been right about how the first and second season were shaping up. Maybe Ryan should be on Simon’s payroll. It must have something to do with his youth and all that radio experience. He was tuned in. Maybe that was it.
Considering this, Simon watched the younger man, who was totally focused now, and not on him. While at work, Ryan barely noticed him and that was too bad as Simon appreciated a wink or a smile of encouragement. A carefully worded sexual innuendo going over other people’s heads was good, too. They’d managed to perfect a good technique.
Last year was difficult for him, and when he watched the tapes back he realized he’d been a right bastard, always criticizing the hosts for doing their jobs. He’d told himself the criticisms were deserved, but that’s because he felt unappreciated, or that’s what Ryan told him. “You’re a big baby,” Ryan would tell him all the time, and Simon especially bent Julie Cowell’s ear over the litany of complaints, this imagined egomania of her son. Instead of shying away the charge, mum agreed with Ryan, causing no end of grief for Simon.
But last season had been a frustrating few months overall, dealing with Paula’s insecurity, Randy’s temperament and Ryan’s distance, not to mention worrying what his reception by the American public would be once the show aired. And there was the realization of his new status with familiar friends, the ones in charge of this show in the States. Even though this was a variation on his own show in England, here he was an employee instead of one of the bosses, though he was consulted as much as he’d ever been back on the old show. But that didn’t mean his advice was taken, as there were too many battles on that front. Maybe it was as well he hadn’t been granted carte blanche or he might have done something unforgivable in a state of pique – such as firing Ryan – or something eminently tempting – getting rid of the other guy, that Brian, right at the start of term, having never found him attractive or helpful. Fortunately everyone else came to see it his way and Brian was toast, with Ryan enjoying this year shining on his own.
But they had a few odd moments, when he insulted the hosts, which meant Ryan, and also Ryan would think Simon was insane for wanting to go to bed with him. “You’re like the guy who wants to fuck me and kill me,” accused Ryan.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t insulted Ryan at all this season, not so it counted. If anyone asked, he’d have to say he wasn’t in the mood.
The first season of the show was a new country for him, and there was a lot to get used to, but a warm body next to him in bed would have made all the difference. But Ryan hadn’t been easy to coax, despite his club-boy appearance the young man was a bit conservative when it came to introducing pleasure on the work front. Despite the introduction of their personal relationship last year, their status as lovers really took on life this season. Simply put, now he had him, Simon was determined to keep him. So he’d told his mother all about Ryan and when she came out to Los Angeles to view the show she was introduced forthwith to her son’s boyfriend.
“Well, he’s lovely,” she judged afterward. Julie Cowell had met a few of her son’s companions in the past and been satisfied with all of them. Simon was considerate of whom his mum was acquainted with. “You’ve always had good taste in men. But he is very young; that would suit you. You always were a rascal. But are you certain his family approves? There is quite an age difference.”
“We’re not settled,” meaning Ryan’s family hadn’t come into the picture yet.
"You’re not fooling me, my boy; I can see you’re besotted with him.”
“Well.” He’d laughed, because of course it was true.
When she sat in the audience of the show, Ryan introduced her and they kissed in the continental fashion and Paula accused Simon of beaming. “You are so in love,” she said after the show, a bit exasperated, and – he thought – envious as well. “Ryan’s gorgeous and you’re lucky. You had the good sense not to fall for some gold-digger.”
He never would; had always been too intelligent for that, however his wealth was newly acquired and he wasn’t young and foolish as he might have been. Wealth was worth hanging onto, and so was Ryan.
“You know, Ryan might be lucky,” continued Paula, obviously having given it some thought. "He is young enough he might have been taken for a ride, but with you that won’t happen.”
Now that was something to consider, that he would be the barrier keeping the boy from making a fool of himself. The young man was in his mid-twenties with a long work history behind him – and an even better work ethic – but he was perhaps too starry-eyed to be invulnerable from all the leeches out there.
As a companion, Simon thought what tipped the scales from a matter of lust to love was Ryan was turning out to have quite a split personality, as somehow the American from Atlanta had sprung forth as southern boy by way of House of Lords. At least that’s what he had to show for gravitating into Simon’s orbit, being a member of that inner circle.
Yes, it couldn’t be better for Simon on the work front or in his personal life, even with Ryan shoving the whole Simon-has-a-girlfriend subterfuge down the willing public’s throat. Somehow it was all too easy to get away with it, and there was scarce discomfort for them as they spent most nights together, Ryan forsaking him each morning.
Not that everything was perfection on the show front. Guest judges had come on board, and one particularly loathed by Simon, by name of Verdine White, who was an elaborately attired black dinosaur from the seventies disco era who greatly intruded upon Ryan’s personal space during the meet and greet at the top of the show. Ryan handled it well, and Simon was proud of him, but once Verdine was settled into the guest host’s chair, Simon immediately engaged in conversation with the man to his right. Mr. White thereafter made no more moves upon Ryan, at least not while the fuming Simon Cowell was in attendance.
With that hideously attired Verdine creature sitting beside him at the judge’s table – Verdine registering his dislike of Simon’s interference by inching his chair closer to Paula's while Simon tilted his chair to where he’d barely be described as at the table at all – Simon couldn’t wait for the show to be over.
After the show Randy was all, “Just what did you say to the man?”
“I didn’t confide anything about Ryan and myself. I only said he looked ridiculous coming onto the boy for all of America to see, and that Ryan would have moved away only he was too polite to do so.”
“Uh-huh.”
A couple of publications – both sides of the Atlantic – hinted the true status of host and judge but no more than that, and Simon figured quite a few Americans watched the show that night and inched away on Ryan’s behalf.
Eventually the Seacrests had to come out and check on their boy...
Connie, Ryan’s mother, was not happy with him in her son’s life, Simon knew. Her opening gambit was civil enough: “So you’re the young man my son has been telling me so much about.” There was nothing in the Atlanta woman’s tone, but her use of the descriptive “young” had Simon checking Ryan’s response, and Ryan’s eyes were widening. Still, that was the closest to an insult the woman dared.
“I’ve seen you on TV,” said Meredith Seacrest, stepping into the momentary silence as Simon shook her mother’s hand.
“Ah,” he said, delighted for the opportunity she offered him, “then you do have the wrong idea of me. I’m certain Ryan has assured you I’m not the ogre I seem. I have a job to do, and it’s a brutal business. We’re more civil on the show than we would be in a genuine audition atmosphere.”
It was Connie who responded with a frown in her voice and on her face. “Yes, he’s explained that. I must admit I was a little concerned with what Ryan got himself into when the show started last year. I never quite pictured what it’s turned out to be. A glorified talent contest evolved into something extraordinary. It seems to have taken over the country.”
“Shall we all sit down?” Ryan invited the group.
Simon had joined the threesome at the restaurant, an early meal being something Ryan was making time for between his radio broadcast and the IDOL live show.
Meredith was smirking before she ducked her head behind an ice tea she pretended to be engrossed in, obviously content to leave the conversation to the three of them. Perhaps in the Seacrest family she was the one never got a word in. Her hair was that indistinct brown/blonde shade, her features unremarkable. She was altogether lacking the vitality that drew eyes to Ryan. He had charisma. The sibling did not.
SImon only had brothers, so this sister-brother dynamic was new to him.
They’d ordered their meal and were waiting on its arrival when they continued with the conversation, aware the men’s personal relationship shouldn’t be gone over without being alert to the presence of fellow diners.
“Ryan’s given me a tour of L.A.. I like it here,” Simon offered. “There is definitely not enough sunshine back home.”
“So you’re here only as long as the show is in production?”
“Yes.” He could see where this was headed. “I return to England as often as possible since that’s where my business is based.”
“And how long do you expect this show to last? I know Ryan never sits still and he’ll juggle as many opportunities as he can.”
“I would love Ryan to work with me in England.”
“I have my radio show,” Ryan put in.
“Can Ryan make the money in England he can here?”
“Probably not. Presenters in the U.K. are fish in a smaller pond. I’m sure the international fame wouldn’t be worth the sacrifice. But ours is an ever-evolving situation, and Ryan’s fortunes might turn here, and then he’d be open to an opportunity over there.”
“I’m certain that would be good for the two of you, but I’d have to invest in an entirely new wardrobe if I were to gallivant off to London to visit my boy.”
“Where is Ryan’s father?”
“Oh, it’s easier for me to get away. So you are staying with the show as long as it lasts?”
“I expect so,” he assured her, knowing it wasn’t the lifespan of IDOL that intrigued the woman but the proposed duration of his relationship with her son. “But don’t tell anyone. That knowledge will weaken my bargaining position. It must always appear I’m reluctantly on-board, that I may leave on a whim.”
“While maintaining the illusion of being a professional?”
“Touche.”
“Ryan is loving the show, aren’t you, dear?”
Ryan snorted. “Don’t be fooled by his cavalier attitude,” he told his mother. “He’s got a house out here. The break between shooting isn’t that long, only a few weeks this time. There are minimal breaks scheduled between auditions, the Hollywood weeks and then the live shows. He’s here most of the year. And I think Simon was relieved to have an excuse to escape the London weather.”
“It’s not just the sun, Ryan,” Simon teased, “that I eagerly return to.”
“Still, long-distance relationships are so difficult." Her tone dropped as she realized she could be overheard. "Ryan’s father and I never had that problem. I think that’s why we’ve lasted. Time and commitment are both necessary to sustain a relationship. With distance, it’s all too easy to let go. When trouble comes it’s harder to persevere.”
“I completely agree.”
Hoping the reassurance was enough, Simon went on to satisfy the silent prompting from his boyfriend’s mum, filling in some of the blanks in her file on him, completing the picture when necessary.
He knew among his personal arsenal of weapons was the soft voice he had in normal conversation, he and Ryan being alike in their on-air personalities being different from how they normally conducted their lives. Ryan was as unassuming as himself on formal occasions. It wasn’t his commanding on-air voice, but Ryan’s personal appearance that drew eyes to him.
Connie continued, “I guess this IDOL business is more like the old movie era with the studios and their talent hunts.”
“Possibly,” Simon allowed, considering it. “I’m not versed on it.”
Here Ryan popped in to respond to his mother. “The studios would let the public be the deciding factor, in who they wanted to be stars and who they didn’t. You can say IDOL is an off-shoot of that, since people vote rather than buy movie tickets. But I’d say IDOL is a grander form of talent contest, except there is a promise of career longevity. Plus our idols need to have talent as well as star quality.”
Simon scoffed, “You’re not old enough to know all that.” But he was pleased. It was amazing the amount of facts his boy had stored in that bleached blond head of his.
Meredith piped in with, “Ryan always knows the obscure facts, he has a brain like an encyclopedia.”
“Yes,” Connie was saying, “your brother's not the airhead that show makes him out to be. I don’t understand that. I’m looking forward to meeting Simon Fuller and Nigel. Ryan speaks so much of them.”
“It was listening to the radio all the time,” Ryan said. "You can pick up all sorts of obscure data.”
“And paying attention to older men,” Simon put in, “who boast too much of their accomplishments.”
Ryan allowed that, but, “You said it, I didn’t. You can learn a lot from older people. Especially in this city. They’ve been there, and what knowledge they have, they like to pass on.”
“Ryan was always a good student,” said Connie. “Not many young men his age work as hard as he does. I’ve never seen such commitment, not even in his father.”
“At least last year’s winner is doing well,” said Ryan. “Kelly had been trying to break into the business with no luck until IDOL came along. With how long each season runs, I think we’re error-proof. There’s a good team behind this, and Simon is a part of that. He really is a good judge of talent; totally unsympathetic at times, but he’s playing a role. I’m there to hold the contestant’s hand, be the shoulder to cry on. It's balanced. But the audience has the final word. They hold the power, not us.”
Simon was nodding. “Randy and Paula are too easy on the contestants. I have to be the practical one to weed out the true talent, and function as the audience’s eyes and ears. It’s a challenge and it is interesting watching these contestants, picking them, seeing how they adjust to the competition, if they grow as artists or are completely limited.” He smiled, realizing he’d been lecturing enough to bore people. “Ryan has grown since last year. If you give him time, he’ll be running the show, at least the live portions, and we’ll be ceding to his expertise. I think he’s picking up enough knowledge he’ll be spotting the winners.” Of course, he'd already called last year.
Having been working her salad, Connie put down her fork. “Well, you certainly surprise me. Now I’m witnessing the performance Ryan is always assuring me of. You are a different person on that show. But you’re a different person than you were last year, always insulting Ryan and that other man, saying they should be fired and calling Ryan stupid. You seem to be contradicting yourself. But I would never let you get away with that. It's unprofessional and disrespectful: I have to admit to Paula being my favorite judge.”
“One woman to another,” Ryan pointed out.
“Well, she’s sweet and very lovely,” countered Mrs. Seacrest.
Meredith nodded agreement, finally picking up the conversation in progress. “Simon, you don’t say such nice things about Ryan on air.”
“This year?” he faltered, recalling, “I’ve been very nice to him. But nobody’s perfect, not even Ryan. And he can be very irritating. Not as irritating as Brian, but it would have been unfair for me to single out Brian when he and Ryan were doing the same job.”
Of course there was one occasion he’d been called on his reluctance to figuratively browbeat Ryan, when he insulted the hosts and made a point of putting Brian’s name before Ryan’s, since Brian was his main target. There was Randy remonstrating with him the proper order – by billing and Ryan's pay grade – was Ryan then Brian but he’d gone and done the opposite. They were at a precarious point in their relationship and it was occasionally awkward separating the personal from the professional. More than once he worried if his advice was taken, would both hosts be fired? Then Ryan would be lost to him forever, proving sometimes Simon was his own worst enemy. At least his on-air criticisms of Ryan were considered entertaining so the host was never in danger of elimination from the show. If he had been, Simon would have made his new contract conditional upon Ryan’s return. In fact, with the start of season two he and Ryan’s contracts were running the same duration. Simon wondered if Ma Seacrest knew that.
Fortunately Ryan was laughing at the notion of being irritating, otherwise Simon suspected he’d have either of the blonde women throwing their ice teas in his face.
In response to the implied criticism, he bent his head low and whispered, “We keep our personal relationship separate from the show. Witness the fact I'm present at this table.”
“Fortunately,” from Ryan, as if he altogether didn’t believe that.
Perhaps Ryan was remembering too many occasions judge Simon was taking too keen an interest in his attire.
“I can’t say I understand this.” Connie seemed to choose her words carefully as the waiter came round to sweep the plates off the table.
Ryan hadn’t been finished with his, at least there was food remaining, but he nodded agreement at the waiter’s subtle prompt.
Simon noted the angled stare the waiter was giving Ryan, and wondered if the young man was intent on an autograph or a phone number, but he’d been giving Simon the eye as well, so perhaps the waiter’s interest shouldn’t spark paranoia. Ryan had intentionally booked a restaurant the paparazzi didn’t favor, but it was still a good one that stars frequented. It was possible the waiter was new at his job and unused to celebrity. Or maybe he was another unsung singer.
As a non-professional woman, Connie Seacrest had a lot of time to focus upon her only son, who happened to be the prettier of her children, as Simon was reminded when he took another look at the mainly silent but seemingly attentive Meredith.
Simon knew all too well what was going through his prospective mother-in-law’s head: That Simon was far too old for her son, creating a social imbalance, as well as being foreign, with a primary residence a continent and an ocean away from a boyfriend whose career was on the rise, which meant many more opportunities of him being able to make a match with someone both wealthy and local. Ergo: Simon was simply not a good bet.
“Have you considered a career for yourself?” Simon asked Connie, thinking he was onto something.
“Oh, no, I had the children and their father, which kept me busy.”
“Oh, come on, Mom,” prompted Meredith, picking at the fruit compote which had been left as dessert.
“Well,” Connie conceded, “my friends always said I was so vivacious that a career as a model or on television would have suited me. Maybe being an actress, though I don’t think I had that kind of talent. Perhaps I could have been a spokesperson or I could have been the face of something.”
“Very similar to Ryan and his work?”
“Something similar to that.” She reflected, “Of course I never foresaw this television career for Ryan, not when he was set on radio. It’s amazing to watch my son on television.”
“You might have to give interviews,” he suggested.
She brightened. “You think so?” She told her daughter, “I shall always have to be well-groomed from now on, just in case.”
“You always are,” Meredith assured her mother, giving a wink to Simon.
It was nice he had one ally in the Seacrest brood.
They left the restaurant, Ryan about to put his mother and sister into the limo for their return to the hotel, while Ryan was grabbing a lift from Simon.
The small group had a moment of solitude while Simon was giving a peck on the cheek of both women.
“It’s very impractical what’s between you,” Connie came to her conclusion, voicing it softly for only the family’s ears, “and not about the you-know-what, it’s not about that. I am well aware of my son’s situation,” an oblique way of referring to his sexuality. “I would love for Ryan’s life to be a success in every way, but I don’t see how this relationship is good for him.” It seemed now their tete-a-tete was concluded, she was feeling the urgency. “It would have been so much better for both of you if this were some casual fling, something of convenience, something fun.” She assured Ryan, “You’re far too young to be serious.”
“That’s what I thought it was, fun,” Ryan was saying, “at first, anyway.” Then he bid his mother a wonderful time on their sightseeing tour, while he stepped over to Simon’s car which the valet retrieved.
For Simon, it was all too clear Connie Seacrest’s objections, when Simon was old enough for Connie to be married to. Obviously, she felt it shocking Ryan couldn’t find a man his own age when he was only in his twenties.
He waited until Ryan came out with, “That did not go well. I thought you’d win her over. Everybody else likes you.”
Simon was contemplative as he drove them towards the IDOL soundstage. “I don’t think she wants to be won over. She’s a mother, she’s allowed her concerns.” After all, he had a mother of his own.
“She thinks I’m with you for the wrong reasons. She doesn’t think I can trust you. You'll break my heart.”
Paula had her own piece of advice after hearing Simon’s tale of woe upon meeting Madame Seacrest. “Wow: the mother-in-law from Hell. If I were you, I’d stay a single man.” However, she had no personal complaint on that score, as that evening Mama Seacrest was charming to a fault to Miss Abdul, and it was something to behold as the two made like long-lost sisters. Except Paula later reported to Simon, “I thinks she wants a part on the show: Watch out she doesn’t request guest judge, mom night.”
Paula had more words of wisdom. “Maybe you could be the correspondent in Connie’s divorce, and then you could have Ryan on the side, with no one being any the wiser. Adopting the young lover, isn’t that what all the old gay men of property do?”
His expression betrayed the shock she’d been gunning for. He wondered if his face was revealing how done in he felt. This “marriage” business had never been so difficult before. Granted he hadn’t had a regular boyfriend in years, not someone to live with and plan his life around. And maybe – if he admitted to it – when he was Ryan’s age his boyfriends were the same age as himself. But as he'd gotten older they certainly grew younger.
This affair was different, especially when he felt Ryan wasn’t keeping up with his cultural references and – of course – most of the clothing Ryan wore should be left to the dustbin, the threads being far too flashy and only drawing attention to the young man.
Randy wasn’t as up on the situation as the rest of them: “Are Ryan’s parents getting divorced?”
The negation from Paula was long and drawn-out, the “No,” from Simon short and blistering. “You think I’m too old for him?” he asked Paula. He liked having a younger lover, and he was positive Ryan enjoyed looking up to him. Therefore the age difference suited them both.
Regarding his change of tone, she responded seriously. “I’ve seen worse examples of trophies, especially in this town. And Ryan isn’t like anyone else. He’s not some airhead, despite what people think, and he doesn’t like playing around. He's onto a sure thing. His entire life is made up of contracts, and being in a relationship with you is as good as being locked into a contract, as far as he’s concerned. And, let’s face it, baby, you’re not getting any younger and your chances will start flying; unless you want to pick up guys that are after your dough. That’s interesting for about five minutes. But if you want security and waking up to the same person every day, I can’t see where you can’t make it work. It won’t be easy all the time, but think of it as a business challenge. Some days you come up short, other days you have a run.”
He thanked her. The one reason he kept confiding in her, was because she gave a more reasonable perspective on things. Randy was no good at this sort of thing, as the big guy thought he and Ryan were fools for being involved with each other to begin with, saying it would lead to all sorts of hurt, as well as complicating their lives. Simon felt what Randy feared is what would happen to the show if he and Ryan were to break up with hurt feelings between them.
“I can’t wait until my mother-in-law returns home,” Simon admitted with a smile.
He worried even as the Seacrest women sat through a broadcast of IDOL and Ryan dressed soberly for that event, not in his usual more colorful style.
So he wouldn’t lose his place in line, or so Simon quipped to himself, he visited Ryan’s dressing room while mom and sister were backstage. Of course he could have been laden with offerings of bouquets, but he assumed Ryan would have seen to it his mum was inundated.
A moment only is all it took for his resentment to renew itself. He was wondering how many of Connie’s visits to Hollywood he’d have to endure, with her checking up on her dutiful son. Simon sat there holding his tongue, knowing it would increase her animosity if he interrupted her as she held forth, seeming the butterfly encased stiletto.
“Oh, hello, Simon,” she greeted him, having paused that long, then, “or should I call you my boyfriend? I’d rather like that. I was just filling Ryan in on the latest news from home. His father called and a friend of ours, well, her marriage is over. They were married for seventeen years.” She sighed. “Everything’s easy when you’re young. You are in love and feel there’s no conflict in holding that love together, and remaining faithful. We all feel that way at the start. Of course they had their children to keep them together, that’s a full-time occupation, and a parent hates to abandon them when they’re young. But as time goes on, and the romance is hard to find, well there has to be something more solid keeping any couple together. And they did have a few years difference between them, I remember she’s a good eight years younger. They were different generations to start, and that must have been an extra burden. I don’t think they would have stayed together longer than a few years if they didn’t have children. Now I don’t know what Helen will do. She’s not young, but she’s young enough, maybe she’ll find someone else. She hasn’t been on the job market in so long, it makes her rather dependent. Helen and I went to the same masseur,” Connie told Simon. “I bet he’s found a younger woman already,” she assured Ryan, “since the man never leaves the nest unless he has another nest to go to, and this divorce is his idea. I bet we haven’t heard all there is to tell about Helen and Nick,” she assured her children. “And I bet the new one’s even younger than Helen. No matter how many times Helen went to the gym it was never going to stop her aging, and I think he always saw her as he first met her, and eventually the mask slipped and fell. It’s not her fault, it’s inevitable. Fortunately your dad doesn’t look at me through rose-tinted lenses, that makes our marriage easier. More solid ground, I’d say, than those couples where plastic surgery is meant to make the difference. No matter what she did, Helen couldn’t stay young forever. Eventually Nick was going to see her for the middle-aged woman she was, and especially having had children, there’s only so much a woman can do.”
Ryan tried, “Maybe it was menopause,” with a glint in his eye and Simon had to hold back the grin. Instead he sufficed with a wink aimed in that green-eyed direction.
“Oh, I don’t think so. What people don’t tell you is how liberating it is, not to have to consider protection and birth control. I was relieved when the change came, and maybe the same to you,” to Meredith. “When there’s an age difference, it’s possible of course, but most relationships are doomed to failure. It can be difficult in the beginning when you have different social touchstones, but it only gets worse as you get older. And what about the young widow or widower? That’s a tragedy.”
Fortunately he hadn’t lit a fag, otherwise Simon was certain she would be coming out with cancer statistics. It was bad enough Ryan barely tolerated his smoking.
He made his stand. “I like Ryan; it doesn’t have anything to do with his age. If he were a friend, he’d be a good friend, but we happen to have more together than that.”
As if not to get caught in a tussle between the two most important people in his life, Ryan excused himself to the little boy’s room. While he was gone, Meredith kept the room from being silent by asking Simon about the various crew member’s jobs.
Fortunately it was late enough before show that as Ryan returned – so maybe all he did was his usual bathroom visit prior to curtain – the stage manager called him to the stage in ten and his family left to fill their seats in the audience.
A moment alone with Ryan had Simon admitting, “Your mother puts me through it.”
“We have convenience, at least during IDOL, but is there anything after IDOL?”
“I thought you’d stop questioning that.”
Originally their affair had been a loose convenience, for Ryan’s sake, as the younger man had been afraid to focus on anything other than his career. But casual is what Simon was lacking in his attitude after they’d begun their relationship. He’d responded to Ryan’s silent need for reassurance with overt romanticism, such as platitudes and gifts.
Ryan was taut as a wire most times, and sometimes in bed Simon would stroke him, soothing the young man’s nerves, coaxing him to relax and accept the comfort.
“You know I’ve never been open about my sexuality. I wasn’t important enough to matter, but there was always a part of me that said look don’t do it, if you come out you can never take it back. Some people think they know, but none of them can be certain. Mom knows all that. She knows about me. So I can’t have any unpleasant surprises for her. But this is the first time the press is calling and I have a boyfriend and he’s as much in the closet as me.
”I think she feels everything about my life is a shame, and she didn’t ask for this. She wanted a healthy, attractive son and she got me. And now I have a lover I can’t introduce to anyone, except he’s the guy that is supposed to be a lady killer. And I’m this slutty guy that’ll fuck anything.”
“She knows the truth.”
“But this is overwhelming, and she didn’t ask for this.”
“Neither did you,” Simon pointed out. Not to make matters worse, but, “And where is your father in all this?”
“It’s worse for him, about me. It’s taken him a long time to get used to it. If I got married, had a couple of kids, it would be better for them. They could pretend they don’t know.”
Simon thought Connie Seacrest’s preference was to be without the rival for her son’s affections, even if the ultimate sacrifice was grandchildren.
That was all they had time for then it was the start of the show. Ryan seemed fine throughout the broadcast, and the Seacrest family lingered after the show.
“Ryan’s had so many struggles,” Connie was telling Paula, who was lending a sympathetic ear, though Simon assumed his fellow judges were attentive in order to gain ammunition. “This PEOPLE honor will get him recognition, but I know he thinks back and remembers how he used to come home from school and park himself in front of the TV and eat.”
“I think he’s active now,” Paula said. “He’s too skinny. We get letters accusing him of being manorexic. I think there’s some would like him to gain weight, the opposite of the usual problem around here.” Her brown eyes shot toward Simon.
Simon was glancing over Randy’s shoulder, and he intercepted Connie’s stare. “Food is his enemy,” Connie was saying, absently. “Poor boy, but every ounce shows, worse than a girl.”
For his part, Ryan was talking to some contestants, including Ruben and Clay, even as the audience was clearing the studio.
Simon took a moment to wonder if tonight was when he and Ryan would be reunited in bed or if the younger man was locked into arrangements with his family.
Witnessing his distraction, Paula took the opportunity for another dig in his direction. “Simon definitely believes food is the enemy,” he overheard, “at least for women, as he’s always saying the girls need to lose weight. I argue with him all the time and the viewers are with me on this. He’s encouraging all these food disorders. It doesn’t seem to matter how big the men get, since Ruben is his favorite.”
But Connie Seacrest wasn’t playing that game. As her daughter smirked, Connie agreed. “A woman should be slim. A bad figure will have her husband looking elsewhere. And there’s no pinup of a fat woman, Simon's right on that score. So you’re saying he appreciates my Ryan slim? Ryan has to stay slim for TV. I know all about that camera putting weight on a person.”
If Simon was hoping for more couple time for himself and Ryan, he was left abandoned as Ryan proved unavailable to him not just that night but the next few days. Thereupon Simon rode out the wave of panic reminding himself Ryan was busy with his parent and sibling, not that he was out clubbing. After all, Ryan had warned Simon in advance that he wouldn’t be at his beck and call while Seacrests were in town.
There had been the reverse situation, after all, when Julie Cowell was visiting, though Julie at least was complimentary of Ryan, a bit in love with him herself, Simon thought, and like himself she’d been charmed by Ryan’s Irish ancestry, only to be amused when Ryan claimed to being Swiss. “Swiss?” both mother and son Cowells exclaimed in surprise. Only Ryan, it seemed, was serious. “With a name like Ryan Seacrest?” Simon had scoffed. Come to think of it, he still thought of Ryan as Irish.
It was nice to think back on their shared jokes, their mutual discoveries. But that was making do since he didn’t have the young man in hand.
NEW YORK
Fortunately, since he was in need of distraction, one of his routine business trips to New York came up or he’d have no relief from the misery of what was happening with Ryan and the fact he couldn’t get him on the phone.
Simon did two things to relieve his anxiety while in NYC, and one thing was to have his own rent boy by the hour, contracted through an agency that specialized in A-gays and celebrities. When that strenuous activity didn’t relieve sufficient stress – he kept thinking of Ryan in L.A. and wondering at the continued silence between them – he did the next thing that was on any gay boy’s list and that was to call his mum.
First off she strove to calm him down, then having been given a precise rundown on recent events, Julie came out with her own interpretation.
Connie Seacrest only had the one son, Julie reminded her son. So the mother-son relationship wasn’t as casual as the one between her and Simon as she had other sons. So followed her advice in a nutshell: that Simon needed to be patient, that if Ryan was worth it, certainly Simon could take his time about it, and that the young man had to sort things out for himself. The threat was whether Ryan's mother’s advice was more important to Ryan than Simon’s company. If Simon proved to be in arrears in mother’s love versus lover’s fealty, then Simon better find that news out sooner rather than later.
Simon both hated it and loved it when his mother was right, because at least there was that security to count on. But love and patience, and understanding: that’s what he had to give Ryan, even if Ryan wasn't asking for it. He’d spent a long time waiting on Ryan’s attention when they first met, to the point if he’d been less attracted, even an iota, he’d have given up.
In comparing the Seacrest and Cowell broods, there were many differences.
Simon had a brother and two half-brothers, while Ryan had only one sibling, a sister.
Julie had been a professional dancer, and knew this son was queer even before he did. However it hardly seemed to matter to anyone as Simon wasn’t beholden to carry on the family name.
Simon had gotten into the business through his father, whereas Ryan was doing anything but following in daddy’s footsteps.
Whenever Ryan confided to him details about his family and upbringing Simon was happy he’d been born into the tolerant Cowells.
LOS ANGELES
With the NYC business concluded and IDOL resuming next week, Simon was back in Los Angeles when Paula showed up at the judges table. It was midway through the run-through and nobody paid her any attention except her fellow judges who greeted her, both men quietly assessing her level of intoxication. However, she’d been happy lately and happy certainly agreed with her. But it paid to be vigilant and Simon realized there was something off about her and he suspected it had something to do with the romance she was having with a contestant.
For his part, he couldn’t imagine romancing a contestant – unless that contestant were Ryan, because that young man was irresistible. Simon smirked. So he was saved on that score, and Randy, of course, was married, which took him out of the running for foolish move of the year. With Simon and Ryan involved with each other, nobody had thought to make it clear – in writing – that judges – or host – should maintain a strictly professional relationship with the contestants. Simon figured this was one of the areas where the American version of IDOL was woefully lacking in commonsense.
Paula came up to Simon, patting his bicep in off-hand greeting. “Ryan’s looking great,” she slurred, having taken an all-encompassing look around the theater. “Those glasses suit him.”
Envisioning a shot glass – considering the source – Simon realized she was referring to the young man’s spectacles. Which was odd because Ryan wasn’t even in view, being off-stage, perhaps in his dressing room. “He’s tired from last night?” Simon hazarded a guess, which meant Ryan skipped the contacts, and not for the first time this year.
Glimpsing Ryan for himself, he’d thought the young man looking a porn star, and the graphic scenario which hit his imagination like a tidal wave would hopefully be played out in reality sometime later, with tossing aside those specs and stripping the young man to his undies and then -
But what had Ryan been doing to be so worn out?
“Where did you go?” asked Randy, interrupting his train of thought. He’d arrived just in time to catch the Brit daydreaming.
Paula grinned. “Or should we say what did you do?”
Simon was coy. “No more than the usual.”
He’d be damned if he was going to confide more of his personal life to these two, let alone his fantasies. Randy could be trusted but Paula had a big mouth. He was puzzled if the cause was her nature or her addiction or a combination of both. But when she was in a foul mood she tended to say things that were better left unsaid.
Randy was contemplative for a moment, then turned jocular. “Simon can’t keep his eyes off him,” referring to Simon and Ryan. “Not at all like last year,” he confronted Simon with the fact, “when you had a bit more restraint.”
“That’s what you were saying,” recalled Simon, still keeping an eye out for Ryan. He should be on-stage by now. “This season is better than last,” he said in an effort to generalize the conversation.
He’d gotten the lingo down, saying season instead of series, only they’d been working season one and season two in the same year with the IDOL schedule, the show being such a hit there was an immediate demand by the network for their return.
Last year he’d barely remembered the difference between being a presenter in the U.K. and being a host in the U.S. and while Ryan was often correcting and clarifying American English for him, he was often explaining Brit slang to Ryan.
The show was more drawn out this year, too. More episodes to produce and therefore more dollars for the network it aired on. The longer season was a quandary for Simon, who greatly appreciated the extra time in the States with Ryan, so that was a blessing – especially when he actually had access to Ryan, unlike recently – but the complication was that he was also needed at home in London.
Once they went live, Ryan seemed in a strange mood, seeming depressed and he and Simon were failing to connect.
With Connie Seacrest back in Atlanta, Simon decided he’d force the issue after tonight’s show, pursuing conversation with Ryan even if that meant following the young man back to his house.
When it came to the contestants the show proceeded smoothly, offering just that hint of chaos that kept Ryan invigorated and the audience entranced.
Fortunately, Clay’s urge to simper at Ryan was held in check, because Simon didn’t think he could handle more stress without storming off the show. Really, the contestant needed to make it less obvious he was gay and adopting Ryan’s hair style and making boggle-eyes at him wasn’t the way to accomplish this.
Ryan’s style looked good on Ryan – no matter what he said on the show to the contrary – but that same style wasn’t pleasant on everyone.
Fortunately before the show concluded he was tackled by a subtly invading Ryan who encroached on the judge’s table to whisper in Simon’s ear, “Tonight, after the show,” and the lithe young man lingered long enough in his presence Simon was grinning from ear to ear.
Hurrah! Some progress, Simon was thinking, his mood brightening. He was so much better dealing with Ryan – and Ryan’s issues – if allowed to speak with the man. At least Ryan had caved to the need to communicate, forestalling Simon. This was all good news, unless Ryan was about to declare their romance at an end. Simon should think about that. Because wasn’t that what Mama Seacrest’s purpose in visiting was all about? Of course she’d wanted to visit her son. But all those phone conversations where she tried to encourage Ryan’s independence hadn’t worked when it came to Ryan ditching Simon.
He faltered in reading Ryan’s face then became distracted as the show continued onto a commercial break and Randy began leaning his elbows on the desk, cross-talking over Paula, questioning their get together after the show even as Ryan stood by. Frankly confronted with the two of them, Simon didn’t know which way to look. “No, nothing,” Simon was saying, a bit confused, “Ryan and I have something to discuss.” He was hoping their talk would lead to a lock-down behind a dressing room door.
“You know you’re engaged?” Randy reminded him while glancing up at Ryan, as if he were reading Simon’s mind and causing Simon to laugh in the bargain. “Yeah, take it seriously, man. You got yourself a girlfriend. Official. You’ve got yourself engaged to that Terri. Ryan did that to you. If you leave with anyone, make it Terri.”
Yeah, the “engagement” was Ryan’s idea, mainly to have fun with the situation, and there was a side effect all right. When he asked Ryan why he kept mentioning the girlfriend – Terri – on all the shows, Ryan responded, “We have to keep shoving it down the public’s throat, right? You’re not gay, most especially you’re not gay with me. Whether I’m gay, who knows, right?”
Certainly this bearding business was a double-edged sword and trust Ryan to keep reminding him of that. Not that Ryan hadn’t his own official girlfriend, another obliging type. Though Ryan was capable of sex with a woman, even he admitted his performance would be rated adequate.
When it came to Terri, Simon was the one dragging her into interviews with him so he had to admit he was responsible for any overkill. Yet he pointed out to Randy, “But I feel engaged.” Only it was to Ryan, not Terri.
Ryan nodded, having been attentive to the exchange as the live-air countdown continued. “Not Terri. So I’m defending her territory, as she’s living through me, or me through her, I haven’t figured out.”
“Oh! Good thinking, Ryan.”
“Ryan’s cute,” Paula was saying, “he’s cool, he identifies with those kids. So,” to Simon, “is there a wedding in your future?”
“What?” Bewildered, as always when he tried to follow the road her mind was on.
“You and Terri, I know not you and Ryan.” She laughed. “I can just see him in a wedding dress, or you. Really, it’s you in the dress, I should remember that. Poor Ryan,” she sympathized, “having to be both the adult and the male in the relationship.”
“Paula,” Simon warned her, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He was relieved their mics were off.
“I’m being silly,” she excused herself. “I was trying to say, are you going to complete the picture and marry Terri?”
He frowned. “Most assuredly not. I’m already telling everyone I’m a bachelor forever, so when we break up no one will be surprised.”
Having heard enough, and having been provided the ten second notification to return from commercial, Ryan moved off to be in place for the next segment.
“She might want kids,” said the showbiz vet, and Randy also was staring at her, “and that’ll end things. It always does. Most of them get married though.”
“Who?” asked Randy.
Fortunately Ryan was introducing the next singer and the song selection so the judges’ mics remained on mute.
“The fake couples.” Paula was assured her audience. “Beards are more effective when they have a wedding ring.”
“No wedding ring,” Simon insisted, though he had a brief image of himself and Ryan, attired in their best suits, standing before a parson, exchanging platinum bands. Yes, that would be good, platinum rings. Ryan sometimes wore jewelry: he’d been wearing a chain of late. “I wouldn’t be any good to Terri, and what makes you think she wants a husband or children?”
Paula was aghast. “Is she a lesbian?”
He turned the tables on her. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I think I’ll make a pass at Ryan. In public, of course. He’s looking awfully cute. That’s a nice mention he got, being named in that Most Beautiful People issue. Do you want to kiss me, Simon?”
“No.”
Randy complained. “They ignored the rest of us,” about PEOPLE.
Simon winked at Randy over the top of Paula’s head. He really didn’t know what to make of her sometimes, but normally she was harmless and well-intended.
On the other hand, wrist watches, now that was a masculine accessory. He could put Terri to work looking for the proper watch for Ryan and himself.
After the show, Simon loitered in his dressing room until Ryan joined him. Ordinarily they’d have met up somewhere after the show, usually because Ryan was off doing a task for another job.
He got up to greet Ryan, appreciating the symbolism of his visitor’s locking the door.
“Hello, green eyes.”
“Hello, you.”
They embraced, but Simon knew it wasn’t meant to lead to anything passionate when Ryan pulled back after a moment, walking over to drop into a chair.
“It’s been a while,” said Simon, trying to bridge the gap between expectation and being rude.
“I haven’t been taking your calls.”
“I thought you bought a new phone and hadn’t provided me the number.”
His lover was addicted to acquiring the latest in electronic accessories. Ryan was so techno-savvy it was frightening to Simon sometimes, so he knew his man would appreciate the ridiculous implication.
“Same phone, same number.” Ryan smirked. “I should apologize, but I was with my mom and having to think things out.”
Simon settled on the seat next to him, hoping his presence would remind Ryan of better times, from before his family’s visit. “Your mother wants you to be happy.” He’d considered his words wisely.
“Of course she’s my mom. And she’s right, about a lot of things. But the truth is when I’m not with you. Maybe it would stop, rub off, if we weren’t together as part of this show, and when you’re in New York or London I figure you’re there, and get used to you not being here. And I work a lot, and I ignore a lot of things when I don’t have time for them.”
"Ignoring your needs isn’t healthy.”
Ryan sighed. “I feel like there’s you and there’s my mom, and there’s me, and sometimes I’m not sure where I am in this. I’m her son, your lover, your verbal punching bag, the host of IDOL, the on-air Seacrest, and somewhere in there I am my father’s son.
“You know how I talk to contestants and they want what they want and they have their varying degrees of confidence going in, but by the time I get to know the people it’s because they’re around a while, they’ve been on the show that long, and their confidence level is huge, because they all know who they are. Some people take pot shots at them, but nobody is booed, not in this theater. But they’ve got talent, and they’ve all got a history that brought them to this place. They all know who they are. And that’s what I’m missing: I am a missing person.
“I know what I want, I even know how to get there, but I don’t know who I am outside of what I do. That’s what blew me away about you. You so clearly know exactly what you are, who you were, what you wanted and weren’t afraid to do anything to get what you wanted, as if anything you wanted was what you deserved. Even if what you wanted was me. I don’t get that. I don’t get any of it. In a personal way, I feel I’m only here because other people have imagined me into being. Do you know what that feels like? I’m like that dog you’ve accused me of being. If someone isn’t patting me on the head for a job well done, I’ll disappear.”
“You need time off. And you need to be with me.” Because you can’t be trusted on your own, was the unstated implication. “The only thing that brought me to America was IDOL, and you were that last minute addition to the show. And you’re still here, and I’m still here. Fate brought us together, Ryan, even the few days without you has been an experience I don't want to repeat.”
Ryan collapsed into Simon’s arms, and Simon held the younger man in a protective embrace.
After a few minutes Simon relented. “Do you want to go home?”
“Which one?”
Simon heard the tease. How he loved this tone so much better than the stilted precise manner exhibited by the on-air host. Expertly delivered though it was.
Once in the car, Ryan frightened him with, “My mother, she’s thinking I should come up with a show about mothers and their sons. She thinks that has traction.”
In the near weeks, the current season was coming to a close and Simon suspected Clay would win the competition. It was all about the night Clay sang Simon’s favorite song, UNCHAINED MELODY. Having heard the dulcet strain tortured by several contestants over the past year, he was relieved as he learned attending dress rehearsal that it was to be the southern boy’s choice. He didn’t know if Clay was courting his favor, it having become known throughout the prior season that UNCHAINED MELODY was his favorite song. He neither knew nor cared if Clay was that confident or that calculating.
But if Clay won that meant Simon backed the wrong horse. For his own sake, Ruben needed to win.
There were no surprises in the live telecast and since Simon had attended the run-through he knew that Clay would sing well. In fact, Ryan asked him, “You think Clay is trying to win you over by singing that?”
”If he sings well, he will win me over.”
Ryan nodded and that was that, but Simon paid attention to the run-through and knew the young singer nailed it, really setting the bar for the competition. When the gauntlet was struck this late in the game it was unlikely there would be an upset. The only problem with all this is his favorite from the auditions was Ruben, and it would call into question his autonomy if Ruben failed to make it into the final, let alone if he failed to win. Given last year and his lack of confidence in Kelly, this would make two years in a row Simon Cowell's instincts failed.
When it was time for Clay to sing the selection live to an audience, Ryan was at the side of the stage awaiting the post-performance interview. Turning his head, Simon switched his attention from the performer to the host, willing Ryan to return his stare while wishing he could sing those words, even fantasizing he had written those lyrics, so that he could present them to Ryan as a gift. For a moment, Simon’s love and sincerity were laid bare, and once Ryan’s attention was caught, those green eyes forgot to blink.
Lost in thought even as his stare pinned his beloved on the stage, Simon contemplated the immediate future.
The competition was rapidly drawing to a close, and that meant Simon was soon bound for England. He loved his home, but this break meant weeks or months until he and Ryan reunited. Unless he persuaded Ryan to join him on holiday. And perhaps he could make frequent trips to the States in advance of the next IDOL phase. Perhaps they could meet in-between, in NYC, to split the difference. Certainly days or weeks together could be found if they made the effort.
Again, Simon realized it was damnably inconvenient having found his love in someone who lived in another country, across an ocean and a continent. A woman could be persuaded to toss away any career in order to follow her man, but that wasn’t Ryan, and if Ryan was like that he wouldn’t be a man to hold Simon’s interest, let alone his heart.
Simon couldn’t sing – or wouldn’t – and the worst he’d perform is a slight hum during his morning shave. So those dark eyes pinning Ryan in place were as close to a serenade as Simon could manage. Ryan must know Simon wished more than anything he could sing, and he would sing, if he could sing the plaintive melody as well as Clay.
Ryan was inattentive to the lyric, or so Simon assumed, as none of it would have anything to do with them. Except it would, and shortly, when a continent and a sea once again separated them.
Whoa, my love, my darling,
I've hungered for your touch, a long, lonely time,
And time goes by so slowly and time can do so much.
Are you still mine?
I need your love, I need your love, God speed your love to me.
Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea
To the open arms of the sea, yeah
Lonely rivers sigh, "Wait for me, wait for me"
"I'll be coming home, wait for me!"
Whoa, my love, my darling, I've hungered hungered for your touch, a long lonely time.
And time goes by so slowly, and time can do so much.
Are you still mine?
I need your love. I need your love.
God speed your love to me.
THE END