Only You by Jerry Cole (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📕

Bradley’s career was ascending at a rapid pace. Before lockdown had started, he’d auditioned for the lead role in a new TV drama called Firing Day. It was a dark, gritty show that Bradley just knew he was perfect for... and apparently the casting director agreed, because he got the role!

And then Covid happened.

Bradley was actually one of the lucky ones in regard to lockdown. After a week in, he got a call from Harmony herself who told him that the show would probably be going ahead, assuming that the whole Covid thing didn’t get any worse. Then, a month later when everything started to get better and the country began to open up again, he got another call in which he was told that the show was definitely going ahead. It was really happening.

The production was set to start in just over a month’s time. This actually suited Bradley perfectly. The extra time would be used to rehearse and... well, that was it. He had a job now. He was getting paid (a very nice amount of money). And finally, he and the rest of the country were allowed back out of the house. Things could not get better.

“Like I said, when the show they're currently filming is over, we’ll kick ‘em out and slot you on in.” Harmony hovered by the door to the dressing room, watching as Bradley slowly walked in, eyes moving over everything. “There’s a TV, shower and bathroom, wardrobe – you get the idea.”

“And it’s all for me?” Bradley spun back to face Harmony. “I’m not sharing it with someone – not that I care,” he hurried.

Harmony beamed her delight. “There’s that wanker actor I was looking for. And no, you don’t share. This is all you, babe.”

“Fuck me,” Bradley exhaled. Getting the show was amazing. His pay was even better. But as silly as it might have sounded, this right here, being given his own changing room, was by far the best thing to happen to him yet.

“No, thanks,” Harmony quipped. “Speaking of, there is a strict no sex policy while on set – that goes for all the studios and sound rooms. But having said that... I’ve also known a lot of people to disregard that rule entirely. So go nuts, is what I’m saying.”

“Ah... thanks?”

“You’re welcome!” she beamed. “Hey, you’re the talent. We’ve got to keep you happy.”

It was strange to hear, but Bradley didn’t mind it. He’d spent so long wondering what it would be like to be an actor, to be famous and successful and to make it. Now that he was here... he had to pinch himself.

“Oh!” Harmony jumped on the spot as if electrocuted. She then fumbled in her pockets and pulled out something round, shiny and metallic. “I bumped into the Prop Master earlier and he asked that I give you this.” She held her hand out, revealing what looked like some sort of badge.

Bradley frowned as he held his own hand out and what he now saw to be a fake policeman’s badge. It was gold and made of plastic but looked as real as any he had ever seen. On it was his character’s name, rank and number. Fuck, this was his badge!

“My badge...” He spoke like it wasn’t real.

“Yeah, he thought it might help with your rehearsals. Actors,” she laughed and shook her head to herself.

“I get to keep this?” Bradley asked, wide-eyed. It was such a silly thing, but he couldn’t believe it.

“Too right... Detective.” Harmony winked and Bradley grinned. Yep, this was now officially real.

Needless to say, when Bradley arrived home an hour or so later, he was in a rather good mood. This was helped greatly by the fact that now, after a brief period of awkwardness and tension, Sherman’s apartment was once again a happy place... for all intents and purposes.

If any proof of this was needed, it greeted Bradley as soon as he walked inside. Not Sherman. but the food he was making. The smell of garlic and onion frying together wafted from the kitchen and drifted into the living room; a clear indication that things had indeed changed.

“In here!” Sherman called from the kitchen. Bradley knew where he was – there could be no doubt – but Sherman still enjoyed announcing it every time Bradley came home, as if to emphasize the fact. It could have been annoying, but Bradley found it cute.

“Hey ho,” Bradley crooned as he stumbled into the kitchen just in time to see his boyfriend empty an entire chopping board’s worth of foodstuffs into a wok that was already heating on the stove top. “What is going on in here?” he asked, pretending to look shocked.

“Just a little somethin’ somethin’,” Sherman bragged. “For my little somethin’ somethin’.” He stuck his lips out as if kissing the air, and Bradley hurried forward and leaned into it.

“What do you call this one?” he indicated enthusiastically to the mass of veggies and what looked like chicken mixed together in the wok.

Sherman shrugged and started to stir. “Just a stir-fry – you haven’t eaten lunch yet, have you?”

“Are you kidding?” Bradley pretended to look hurt. “I just expect to come home now and be treated to one of your... creations. My day just wouldn’t be the same without a little food poisoning.”

For a minute, Bradley assumed Sherman was going to have a go at him for joking about how bad his cooking was – it was rather average, truth be told. But instead, Sherman beamed and then pressed his lips together tightly, as if trying to stop himself from crying. “I love how you call this place home now.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, but then leaned in and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. “It rolls off the tongue better than Sherman’s place.”