Things I discovered about Mr. William Tennant:
-Only child. Very similar upbringing. Rich parents, lonely childhood. Spent most of the time with his books, films, acting.
-He was an Oxford man. Oxford. I couldn't believe it; and at the same time it wasn't a surprise at all. He showed me his diplomas, which he hung proudly in his office.
I tried not to think about the fact that, even if was barely for a minute, I had stood in his bedroom.
-Once-upon a time, I discovered, he had played Romeo. At the Globe Theatre, no less. There were photos of him on stage, performing; dressed in Renaissance costumes and wearing golden crowns.
With each page turned, the aged photographs granted me a small glimpse into the far away world that Mr. Tennant had once resided in. A time where his hair was just a little bit longer, his body a bit lankier, his eyes a bit brighter. They had darkened some since his youth.
Turning to the last page, there were several photos of the same girl that lived in the framed photographs. Burnished hair, freckled-nose.
I looked at Mr. Tennant, his mouth a straight line. We were floating in that same blue light, suspended in a place between silence and spoken words that neither of us would dare to say.
“Have you ever had your heart broken?”
The question drifted quietly into the air, evaporating immediately.
“Yes,” he said. No pause.
“When?”
“Twice,” he said. “Once when I was younger.”
He touched the photo. A part of me hurt; not because of him, but for him.
“And the second time?” I asked.
Mr. Tennant slammed the album shut, eyes heavy, touching his black tie and gazing into the projector's indigo glow with a look that said both help me and I can't be helped.
He wouldn't give me a response.