1 by Hue Tint & Shade

Author:Hue Tint & Shade [Tint, Hue & Shade]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-03-07T23:38:45.459000+00:00

• • •

Though there would be no custard-filled Bismarck waiting for him at the historic Illinois Theatre, Tommy was, of course, early. He’d parked in a municipal lot that probably cost more than the ticket itself, but it was a primo spot in a lot that was usually full, only two blocks from the old movie house. The sun had just set, and the perpetual Chicago Loop skyscraper-alley chill had settled into a cool harbinger of winter that made Tommy glad he’d worn the black wool suitcoat—even though his primary reason for choosing it had been to cover up the new yellow-patterned shirt that had looked great at the store, but entirely too trendy and clubby in the safe familiarity of his apartment.

The marquee of the grand old theater glowed in the twilight, yellow-white bulbs against yellow letters on a red field, but here and there a gap showed where a bulb was burnt out, or missing. As Tommy approached, the closer he got, the more apparent the theater’s age became. He stood before it, front and center, stared up at the marquee, and saw the Fall Indie Film Fest lettering on the Now Playing sign had been slapped up hastily, so the words hung low and off-center. And while he’d expected people to jostle him out of the way as he attempted to stand and collect himself in the entryway at a big event, the crowd was sparse enough to simply stream around him.

He was just about to convince himself that the film fest had been a bad idea, when a familiar voice, low, playful and entirely sexy, said just behind his ear, “Gorgeous old building, isn’t she? I’m so glad no one’s homogenized her into a Mega Cineplex.”

Tommy turned, and there he was, Nathan, decked out in a black leather jacket, stovepipe jeans and a bright red bandanna-like scarf. Taller than Tommy remembered. He glanced down. Beatle boots, burgundy snakeskin, with a heel. Maybe Sister Norma had been right. Maybe there really was something to be said for accessorizing with a bit of red.

Nathan kissed Tommy’s cheek, right out there on the sidewalk, then said, “We might as well head in.

Tricia’s always late—drives me crazy—so it wouldn’t exactly shock me if she missed half of her own premiere.”

Nathan looped his arm through the crook of Tommy’s elbow to head into the theater, and Tommy surreptitiously checked his watch. They were fifteen minutes early.

The lobby was a study in red and gold, with garishly tinted vintage posters from the forties and fifties adorning the walls. The fleur-de-lis patterned carpet camouflaged many of the cigarette burns and chewing gum stains, and though the foil wallpaper was worn at the corners, it still sparkled. A young man in a film fest badge tore their tickets in half, stamped their hands, and encouraged them to pick up a T-shirt or a keepsake program at the merchandise kiosk.

A set of double doors wide enough for them to walk through side-by-side opened into the theater itself, so there was no reason for Tommy to pull away from Nathan.

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