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Zac was doing fine. He really did.
He had had it worse.
He was fine with what he did for a living—honestly—but unfortunately, he couldn’t remember when was the last time he felt this good about himself. It had been years he didn’t dare say he was proud of what he was doing; not ever since his name was all over the pages and paparazzi became a part of his life.
Dave once mentioned his time at college during their interview together; close friends and somewhere kept away from the world. Zac had been through it all: having none of those, left stranded in the middle of lights and fame, completely lost, to now when he finally found his ground again. He was safe back home, away from the camera, far from the crowd. Not in Hollywood. Not at work. Not with someone involving the same career path.
Not until he met Zendaya.
The girl was extraordinary. Zac had met a lot of people and could get along with anyone on set, sure, but he had never met anyone like Zendaya. They met in the air with slings holding them up; body-slamming was definitely a great icebreaker. The girl wasn’t fazed in the slightest being this close with him, nor was she nervous. His face meant nothing. His body meant nothing. They cracked up looking at each other and he needed someone like this in his life; someone who looked at him and saw a boy struggling, not the Zac Efron.
That was before the Hugh Jackman appeared.
Zendaya was nervous around him. Zac, too, was nervous around him. The man was so perfect it shouldn’t be possible. Zac didn’t like the idea at all.
There was a phase when he wanted to know what everyone thought about him. There was a phase when he realized he didn’t want to know a damn thing and shut himself out. He had heard and read a lot of things about himself; good and bad, right and wrong, rude, exaggerated, all fucked up. People always expected something, either him flying or him falling—or him shirtless. Zac had tried his best to keep it cool. He tried to laugh it off, drink it off, forget everything. He remembered the time he just woke up in the same empty room with his empty self and wondered what the hell he was doing.
That phase was over. He was now sobered and hoped he wouldn’t have to go through that same shit again. He hoped Zendaya wouldn’t have to experience it first-handed.
He wondered if Hugh would understand, as a man who started it all.
By default, people expected everything from him. Zac hated to know that he might be one of those delusional people to Hugh. It was just one scary thought that slipped through his head during rough nights, but it stuck. Zac hated it.
If Zendaya was extraordinary, Hugh was beyond. The weight on Zac’s shoulders was lighter with him around. Everything seemed easier when he laughed. His eyes were hazel and they looked like the sun, the sky, the entire universe; Zac had no idea how that was even possible.
Hugh carried everything with ease; Zac knew it wasn’t as easy as it looked. Thus he stepped back and tried not to expect anything else from the man. Everyone expected enough of him.
The problem was: stepping back was incredibly hard.
All Hugh needed to do was glance at him, call his name, and Zac would follow. Everyone naturally revolved around him. Zac was sure he could be blinded looking at the older actor. He understood why Icarus tried to reach the sun.
Why he fell to the ground.
“You’re incredible,” Hugh said one day during lunch break. “Is this the fourth time you do a musical? God, I’ve always wanted to make one for years.”
Zac thought of the time they met at Oscar. He remembered the smile on Hugh’s face, the way he shouted, “The musical is back!” the passion behind those words—back where it all began.
“You did Les Misérables, though.”
“That’s a good one too,” Hugh agreed. “But not like this. There’s a slight difference for me; not so theatre-ish, something original. You did four.”
Zac coughed into his fist. “That’s...not a big deal.”
They were not that good either. Not to some people.
“No?” Hugh raised his brow, chuckling. “I admire you for that, you know? Look how old I am ‘til I got a chance to do one.”
Zac tried not to fidget as he laughed awkwardly. “You’re a sweet talker, aren’t you?”
Hugh was smiling, eyes crinkling in the nicest way Zac had ever seen from anyone. Zac thought of the Oscar, the same smile on the very same man’s face, seven years ago. It should have faded from his memory with time but it didn’t. It stuck. Hugh always stuck. Right there in the back of his mind.
Zac averted his eyes, looking at everywhere but the man before him, especially not at those lips. (What would they feel like against his?) Poker face wasn’t his best façade, though. It wasn’t like he could control his facial muscles or blushing system. This nervous, his hands could be all over the place and he, well, most of the time, couldn’t think straight.
(How would it feel to—)
Zac cleared his throat, again, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck.
“I’m not sweet-talking you, I’m just saying you did brilliant on set,” Hugh said casually, totally oblivious to the younger man’s reaction. “You’re almost twenty years younger than me and you’ve done this more than twice the time I could. I’m just stating the fact. Nobody has done this many.”
“Okay. First of all, if you’re calling anyone brilliant, that person is definitely yo—”
“C’mon, kid,” Hugh cut him off. “It’s you.”
Now that was too sincere. Too frank. Too much. Zac wasn’t prepared for this. Thus he smiled just to avoid looking like an idiot in front of this—legend. He couldn’t beat this man, not in his wildest dream, not in the slightest.
He liked it, the feeling, the fleeting moment of pride he got from Hugh’s praise. He tried to step back and found himself falling.
Hugh put his arm around Zac’s shoulders when they walked into the set. Zac felt like he was floating a thousand feet up in the air waiting to dive down.
He dived down to the bottom of the glass full of fake whiskey.
Hugh said the exact thing publicly.
Live.
Holy shit.
Hearing it once didn’t make it easier. How was he supposed to react to those words in front of millions of people around the world? So now everyone was going to see the look on his face, the blush, the way he subtly, hopefully, squirmed as praises wrapped around him.
It was just a simple praise. It shouldn’t have such effect towards him. But it was Hugh’s. Zac was helpless against him anyway.
They were still in Australia after the premiere. Zac intended to go to the beach right after; Zendaya and Keala were both in. He still wanted to but—damn it, Hugh wasn’t making anything easy for him. He didn’t want to talk about the live. He didn’t want to see anyone at the moment.
He hated to see Keala’s face drop as he told her he wasn’t going anymore.
“Why not?”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me—”
“Is everything okay?” Zendaya cut in with a frown. “You looked so excited about this beach yesterday. It was your idea. What happened?”
“Just a little headache,” he mumbled. “Just...ask Hugh instead, okay? I’m gonna be fine. A quick nap should help, I think.”
The girl stared at him.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I am.”
She kept staring then nodded regardless. “Okay, then.”
She knew.
Zac bet she could see right through him. She saw the line he was drawing and retreated respectfully. She truly was the best. If Keala weren’t here, he might drag Zendaya up the stairs and just talk. That wasn’t an option, though. He didn’t want to be a killjoy. The girls should go and have fun tonight.
He headed back to his room and dived into the bed, exhausted. Zac didn’t even know he fell asleep until there was a knock on his door. He started awake. Looking up, it was already late. The sun was gone.
Must be one of the crew, he thought, since he didn’t show up for dinner nor went outside. He wasn’t hungry at all.
There was another set of knocking.
“Yeah, alright. Coming!”
He scrambled to the door and expected a pair of eyes looking right back. Instead, his eyes were aligned with the newcomer’s neck he needed to lift his chin up.
Of all people, Zac wasn’t prepared to face Hugh.
“Hey,” the Australian greeted with a soft smile across his face. “I heard you’re not feeling well.”
His face was fucking burning.
“I-It’s nothing,” he stumbled over his words. “Are you— I— Uh— Is everyone back? I didn’t know you guys would come back this early.”
“What? No, I didn’t go with them. I was hanging around with Michael at the bar.” Hugh glanced around. “Can I come in?”
Zac could do nothing but nod.
Hugh sat on the couch right in the middle of the room. Zac’s head wasn’t functioning right. He stood dead on his feet for a few seconds before he could pull a smile back on his lips. A façade. A façade. He was fine. He could do this. His smile was bright enough and his voice wasn’t shaking as he said, “Do you want a drink?”
“It’s fine. I’m just here to see you,” Hugh answered. “You’re better?”
“Y-Yeah. I just—took a nap?”
Zac sat down next to him, still pretty much awkward. It was alright. He had been through worse, four or five years ago. He was fine now. He wasn’t that boy sunk to the bottom of the vodka bottle or something stronger, something worse. It was just a little headache, just overwhelming emotions he wasn’t used to. Just a simple praise he hardly got, not this easy. He was fine carrying the world. He had lived with the same old friend named the past for years and survived. He had dealt with it after all this time, regretting, letting go, living, trying, smiling, growing.
Then Hugh smiled at him, so gentle he could stop breathing.
“Well, that’s good.”
It hurt. Hugh’s voice was low, full with relief, tingling under his skin, shaking his core, reminding him of how badly he wanted to hear those words. Zac clenched his teeth, heart pounding, hope rising. He must step back. (What would those lips feel like against his? Did he have rights to reach out? What would Hugh think if he pleaded?) Thus he hugged himself and shifted his gaze away, keeping hands to himself.
(Why stepping back?)
Hugh ruffled his slicked back hair. It went out of place for the first time that night and Zac couldn’t care less.
He should care more about it.
Zac tried to avoid his hand. He tried his best not to lean into the warmth as Hugh gently pulled his head close until Zac’s forehead touched the man’s shoulder. (He was warm.) He tried his hardest not to give in when Hugh slowly ran fingers through his hair. It was perfect it shouldn’t be possible.
Zac closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He liked the way Hugh smelled; fresh and rich and clean and just—magical. Like magic that calmed him down. Purely magic. Zac shifted a little and his nose almost pressed into the crook of Hugh’s neck. (What if he kissed him?) For the briefest moment, Zac found himself going back in time. Back to before it all began. Back to when he was nobody in the middle of nowhere, wanting to be noticed, dreaming big and standing tall. Back to those days he fell so hard with broken fake wings stitched to his back—
“Is it the interview? You look tired.”
Hugh broke the silence. Zac didn’t move an inch.
“...Do you really think that?” he finally muttered. “What you said in the live, I mean.”
“I do,” Hugh answered truthfully without skipping a beat. “Think what?”
Zac bit his bottom lip. Who the hell admitted before asking for clarification?
(What if he kissed instead of answering? Why using voices when they had a better way to communicate?)
He didn’t know how to stop thinking.
Zac hesitantly, almost hopefully, brushed the tip of his nose against Hugh’s stubble. He opened his eyes and found the older man staring down at him inches away, eyes dilated, wild and dark. Zac didn’t dare blink. He didn’t want to miss a thing.
Hugh dragged his fingers down Zac’s cheekbone, leaving his hair more disheveled than it had already been. Zac could see a smile in those eyes this time.
“I haven’t seen you with your hair down in a while,” Hugh said. “You look even younger like this.”
“Yeah, I did that for a reason.”
“I like it, though.”
Hugh ruffled his hair again. Zac didn’t know what to do with his hands.
(It wasn’t fair. How could something like this be platonic?)
Hugh kissed his forehead.
(How could he?)
They kissed.
Zac wasn’t expecting it to actually happen but it did, so easily, so naturally, deeper than he could ever dream of. Zac groaned softly into his mouth, already dazed. It was everything. He felt everything. Hugh kissed him the way he kissed Zac’s ears with praises. He smelled like magic and his kiss was just the same. Zac felt drunk, intoxicated, helpless. He was melting. His wings were melting. Hugh was the sun and Zac was falling with every move of his lips.
“W-Why are you—” he was cut off by another kiss. “Why are you kissing me?”
Hugh hummed lowly in his throat, worrying Zac’s bottom lip between his teeth and Zac was almost gone.
“You’re kissing me back anyway.”
(Damn it.)
Zac was too occupied to notice that he was lying on the couch beneath Hugh’s body, panting hard as though he had run a mile.
Hugh kissed his way up Zac’s eyebrows and whispered, “You’re tired.”
Maybe. Maybe not. Zac didn’t know. Maybe he just hated himself. Maybe he just wanted to be a better man, a better actor, stronger, unbroken. Like Zendaya. Maybe like Hugh. It was always a maybe.
Maybe he just fell for—
“...Do you really think I was a veteran on set?”
Hugh answered with a chuckle, “Yes, I do.”
“I used to hate myself back then.”
“I know.”
“It’s not fair,” Zac mumbled. “You can’t do this to everyone. You can’t—be this kind to everyone.”
Hugh shook his head, still smiling.
“I don’t do this to everyone.”
They kissed again, chaste and simple, like breathing, like falling. They kissed until Zac couldn’t think of the world he should be carrying and saw nothing but the sun. Until he felt nothing but— Hugh.
“You’re not playing this fair,” Zac repeated absentmindedly. “You—You can’t make me fall harder for you.”
Hugh grinned. “Good confessing.”
Zac’s eyes widened as he realized what he had just admitted out loud. Blushing deep red, he stuttered incoherently with a bunch of “T-That was—” and “I just—” and “Shit,” which were all swallowed by another round of kissing.
It hurt. It didn’t feel as bad as he was used to. He had never stopped hating himself until now.
It was real. This wasn’t a lie. The heat was real and he was melting willingly under sunlight, knowing it was okay to fall. His wings were useless but he didn’t care; he was reaching out for the sun.
He dived down, thousands miles back to earth, and he knew the sun would have got him.
(Hugh was kissing back.)
Hugh pulled back to look at him in the eyes. Zac bit back a smile and failed. He dived down into the ocean and the sun was still there, never letting go.
He understood why Icarus tried to reach the sun. Zac was just better at falling down.