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return_to_nolaFunnily enough, Pride was starting to make New Orleans feel a little more like home to Seth. He had told his representation that he wanted to be involved in local festivities -- since he was filming here, since his strongest foothold of fame was as an out actor, since the town was playing his gay indie drama as a Pride event -- and it was affording him access to a stream of parties, lunches, and events. He was starting to recognize faces, queer organizers and journalists and performers, and he was starting to feel like he was finding his groove.
It probably also helped that his personal life had a new clarity: he had a new romance, he wasn't ignorant about, well, the Northstar of it all, and he was really pleased with the work he had done on the TV show in its first season.
Which meant that he was taking to this party as a VIP with ease: he circled the room, chatting with interesting people and vaguely familiar ones, making new connections and trading jokes with cool individuals.
He was letting a server re-fill his champagne glass when he saw a familiar face, but it was familiar in a specific, singular, and completely jarring way. Over there, not five steps away, was Bobby Drake. Something in Jean-Paul's secret heart leapt; he looked good, and he looked happy. And he was here, at a queer party, where he belonged.
Seth smiled at him, this Bobby-not-Bobby, and when he looked Seth's way, he raised his glass in a gentle hello.
It probably also helped that his personal life had a new clarity: he had a new romance, he wasn't ignorant about, well, the Northstar of it all, and he was really pleased with the work he had done on the TV show in its first season.
Which meant that he was taking to this party as a VIP with ease: he circled the room, chatting with interesting people and vaguely familiar ones, making new connections and trading jokes with cool individuals.
He was letting a server re-fill his champagne glass when he saw a familiar face, but it was familiar in a specific, singular, and completely jarring way. Over there, not five steps away, was Bobby Drake. Something in Jean-Paul's secret heart leapt; he looked good, and he looked happy. And he was here, at a queer party, where he belonged.
Seth smiled at him, this Bobby-not-Bobby, and when he looked Seth's way, he raised his glass in a gentle hello.
