Brayden's Story
Crossroads Twin Cinema, the side where I saw Moonstruck and met Brayden.
This is a true story based on my memory. The names have been changed.
When I was 12 years old, I accidentally ended up on the wrong side of the Crossroads Twin Cinema in my hometown of Corinth, Mississippi. I was supposed to see “Police Academy 4” with my sister and some of her friends, but not paying attention, I walked into the wrong side of the theatre. When I realized my mistake and tried to switch to the other film, the usher emphatically said no.
“Once you’re in, you’re in.”
Perhaps this theater employee was my higher power in disguise, because instead of seeing “Police Academy 4” I had a film awakening watching Cher in “Moonstruck.”
I excitedly watched Cher pick up an Oscar for the film a few months later, and any chance I could, I started going to the movies alone, hoping for a repeat experience!
You can imagine my excitement when a few years later the fabulous Meryl Streep, Queen of the Oscars, had a movie playing in the very same theater I watched “Moonstruck.”
My parents dropped me off at the theatre, and making sure to enter the correct side of the twin cinema this time, I eagerly awaited what was sure to be another life changing masterpiece…
“She Devil.”
Needless to say, it was no “Sophie’s Choice.”
About halfway through the movie, I stepped out of the theater to go to the restroom, and when I came out I noticed another kid my age wearing a red baseball cap in the lobby. He was by himself and playing one of the arcade games.
He saw me staring at him and said, “Hi.”
“Hi there,” I said to my stranger.
***Let’s go ahead and get this part out of the way. I knew he was cute. This was the late 80s. and I was a post puberty 13 years old, and even though I had no real concept of being gay - the “closet” being something I knew nothing about staying in or coming out of – I did know that I felt butterflies when I saw him in that baseball cap.
So yeah, he was cute, and I wanted to talk to him. Equal parts crush and my undeniable desire to not watch another frame of “She-Devil.”***
“I’m Brayden,” he said.
“Brian”
“Good to meet you Brian.”
Brayden was from a nearby small town without a movie theatre, which brought him to Corinth that night. While we took turns playing the arcade game, we bonded over both having hard-to-prounounce last names, our newfound love of going to the movies alone, and great sadness that Meryl wasn’t getting an Oscar nomination for “She-Devil.”
The movie let out, which meant our parents were likely waiting outside to pick us up. Neither one of us really knew what to say or do at this point, so we said quick goodbyes, and went to our respective parent’s cars.
“You look happy,” My Mom said. “Did you like the movie?”
“Not the movie,” I said. “But I met someone!”
And as I started to gush about Brayden, I sensed something shift with my parents. In that moment I began to wonder - was my excitement normal? Were boys not supposed to get that stirred up about meeting other boys? I decided to keep the extent of that joy to myself and stopped talking.
As my parents started the car I suddenly realized that Brayden and I should have exchanged numbers. This was a pre cell phone era, and I wasn’t used to meeting people I didn’t know or might not never see again. I jumped out of the car and looked around the parking lot, but it was too late. I didn’t see him anywhere. But I did remember his name. I asked my Mom for a pen, and wrote his full name down on my hand. Brayden Thornton I will find you!
Pre-google, the only way to really find someone was the phone book. Luckily, if I am remembering correctly, the Corinth phone book had several of the surrounding cities in it as well, including the small town Brayden lived in. I started looking for the Thorntons (of which there were way more than I was expecting) and started making calls.
Call #1
“Is there a Brayden in this house?”
“No!” CLICK
Call #2
“Do you happen to have a relative named Brayden? Around 13 years old?”
“WHO IS THIS?” CLICK
Call #3
“Is there a Brayden in this house?”
“This is Brayden.”
“BRAYDEN…from She-Devil?,” I exclaimed.
“Is this Brian? Oh wow, you found me! I couldn’t remember your last name. Why didn’t we exchange numbers?,” Brayden asked.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. Oh wow. I found you!”
I was so, unbelievably happy.
Thus began a years long phone relationship that my parents, Super Nintendo, my sister wanting the phone, call waiting, almost nothing could interrupt.
We talked about movies and so many of our favorite things. I told him my dreams of leaving Mississippi for California or NYC, that I wanted to do theatre but my parents wouldn’t let me. Not yet, at least. Honestly, I did most of the talking. Brayden was shy and a county boy. He couldn’t imagine leaving Mississippi, but he totally supported me.
The Corinth Slugburger Festival (a carnival celebrating the depression era “delicacy” made famous in my home town) was coming up soon, and Brayden and I decided it was the perfect place for us to see each other again. I can’t remember if we hugged or shook hands when we saw each other, but we definitely rode rides and talked and ate slugburgers and nachos and drank Dr Pepper. It was amazing. Looking back, I think it might have been my very first date!
While getting ready to part ways we ran into my friend Annie, and she immediately took a liking to Brayden. I told you, he was cute! I found myself getting jealous and not quite knowing why. Of course, I stuffed it away, something I would do with my feelings for many years to come.
When I was 15, I did my first play at Corinth Theatre-Arts. I had first auditioned for “Children of a Lesser God” but didn’t get cast. Instead my debut was in “1776,” along with what seemed like half the men and teenagers in our small town.
It was around this time that I met Tom. I became almost instantly enamored by Tom, and he seemed to really like me as well. Interestingly enough, at the cast party for “1776,” I also had my first sip of alcohol. I can’t remember if it was Tom who offered it to me or not, but I now know it was the beginning of a perfect storm.
I don’t recall when or how Tom and I exchanged numbers or how I got his address, but I will never forget what happened the day I went to his place for the first time. I think I told my parents I was going to church. I remember it was daytime, and I was so excited even if I didn’t yet understand why.
It was that day that I had my first sexual experience. I was 15, and Tom was 25. I began a secret relationship with Tom that made me feel like an adult, even though I was not. Months into it, I finally told another teenage friend of mine backstage at the next show I did at CT-A, only to discover it was a secret that he also shared. I wasn’t the only one.
Mine and Brayden’s phone calls had lessened a bit over the years, but they had started to get more personal as we got older, delving into sex and talk of masturbation.
“Have you, you know…don’t make me say it.,” I said, covering my face with my hands.
“Yes, Brian,” he laughed. “I’ve done it too.”
I knew I wanted to see him again, and he seemed to want the same. He said that he and Annie and I should all hang out again, which was fine by me. I didn’t really care they were dating as long as I would get to see him.
Planning our next visit, I asked him how often he came to Corinth. He said that he had started to come more often because he had met another friend there, an older friend named Tom.
My heart sank. Tom. My Tom. The Tom who took my virginity. Tom who I thought I loved…even though there was that one time he took me violently against my will. Best not to think about that though. But then again this was the same Tom who had sex with my other teenage friends, sometimes turning me away when I showed up unannounced because they were inside. Could Brayden have been one of them? Could he have been on the other side of Tom’s door? Please no. Please no. Please, not Brayden.
I was so scared to ask it out right, but I had to know.
“Brayden, have you ever…you know…with Tom?” I asked.
There was silence on the other end. Brayden didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even hear him breathing. So, I continued.
“Like, one time, Tom and I watched porn and…we jerked off together,” I said. Of course there was much, much more than that, but it was all I could say at the time.
“Oh.” There was a pause. “He and I, ”Brayden started…
And then his voice changed. It became dark and empty of emotion.
“We didn’t do anything like that,” he said. “Brian, I have to go.” And he hung up the phone.
Even though he said they hadn’t, I knew they had. I knew it.
In a very Southern Way, we didn’t talk about Tom or sex ever again. Our phone calls also soon stopped after that. I went about my life, and I supposed he went about his. Brayden had broken up with Annie, and she and I really didn’t hang out anymore either. Tom moved or was run out of town more than likely, who knows, and I was getting ready to go to college, very conflicted about what I should study. I knew I wanted to be an actor but my parents didn’t support that.
One Friday near the end of senior year, my AP English class started to watch “Dead Poets Society.” I had an immediate crush on Ethan Hawke and related so much to Robert Sean Leonard’s wannabe actor Neil, whose parents wanted him to be a lawyer. Mere months earlier, when it came time to sign up for classes at Northeast Community College I had settled on Pre-Law English.
As we were watching the bell rang right when Neil’s parents found out he was secretly acting in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” with our teacher declaring we would finish the film on Monday. That wasn’t good enough for me! I had my parents’ car that day, and I drove to the VHS store, rented a copy of “Dead Poets Society” and eagerly started the end of the film once I got home. I was not prepared for the ending when, instead of doing what his parents wanted, or going his own way to become an actor, Neil chose to end his life.
I was unbelievably shaken. No. I could not be like Neil. Not like that. That could not be me. No matter what. It took me some time to get there, first changing my major to Music, but eventually, I did land on Acting as my degree and career.
Soon after, I graduated High School, eagerly awaiting the move to Booneville to start community college. I decided to go to the Slugburger Festival at the end of summer, one last hurrah to Corinth, and who do I see? Brayden. As soon as I saw him, all the butterflies came rushing back. It was so good to see him, and despite the uncomfortable ending to our last phone call, I could tell he felt the same way. He was there with a classmate, a cute boy named Sam who was black. For some reason I wasn’t jealous like I had been with Annie. Maybe I was just so happy to see Brayden, and Sam was so nice. The three of us rode rides and ate slugburgers, just like Brayden and I had done years before.
When I got home, I told my parents that I had seen Brayden again, and they told me that they didn’t want me to hang out with him again. For years I thought it might have had something to do with Sam and race. Gossip could fly in my hometown, even without cell phones. I had already stirred up a bit of controversy in Corinth earlier that summer when I wrote an op-ed for the paper about why the confederate flag might be offensive to people of color. Even before it was published, clients of my Dad’s threatened to take their business elsewhere if I sent it in. I’m very grateful my parents stood by my decision to write the editorial, even if it might hurt Dad’s business.
Now I wonder if it wasn’t about Sam at all, but instead because of the sparkle that showed up in my eyes when I talked about Brayden. A light that society said should have only been reserved for girls.
Summer was coming to a close, and I was getting ready to start classes at Northeast. Brayden didn’t call and neither did I. Perhaps he was also scared about that spark.
I ended up making a last trip to Walmart before heading out of town to my new dorm and life, and I ran into Brayden. He was different this time. Very different, even though it had only been a few weeks, maybe a month or two since I last saw him. There was a definite darkness around him, I can still remember that vividly, even though I didn’t have the full capacity to understand or ask what was going on. The only part of our conversation that I remember to this day is the moment he asked if we could please hang out again.
Over the years, I have replayed this moment in my mind. Over and over and over again. I have questioned my answer, placing blame on myself, my parents, Sam, Annie, Tom.
“I can’t, Brayden. I’m sorry.”
And that was that.
I moved into the dorms at Northeast and began my life as a college student. I loved decorating my room, putting up movie posters all over my side of the room, including one of “Dead Poets Society” right above my bed as a reminder to never lose sight of my dreams.
At Northeast, I started to open up about my sexuality for the first time to people in the music and theatre departments, meeting other mostly closeted boys, some of whom I began fooling around with. I can’t tell you how long it was after school started, but one night after a fun day with my new friends I went to sleep and had a dream. A dream that upon waking became a nightmare.
In my dream, I had left the dorm and was walking around outside amongst the trees behind the building. Even though the dorm was right behind me, I was lost. I then heard a voice calling - whispering my name. It was the wind, but it was also Brayden.
“Brian”
I jolted awake. My “Dead Poets Society” poster had somehow fallen on top of me, even though there were no rips in the poster, and the tacks that had held it to the wall were still there, I knew in that moment that Brayden was gone.
The next part of this story is the haziest bit for me. There are only bits and pieces in my memory.
First there was the call from Annie confirming what I knew from the dream. Brayden had killed himself. There was a shotgun. His parents found him. There was a note. My name was in the note. His parents not wanting me at the funeral. Me needing to know what the note said. About me. About Brayden and me. Was Tom also mentioned in the note? I vaguely remember going to the funeral anyway. I can still see Annie stopping me before I went in, although I don’t know how she saw me before I got into the church sanctuary and don’t remember getting to the church or even leaving. But I did leave. Me…immediately and for years compartmentalizing. Forgetting but also never forgetting. Having so many questions and never getting answers.
I went on about my life, graduating Northeast and going to the University of Southern Mississippi where I could start over, something I would do many, many times over the years.
I was almost completely out of the closet to friends, if not family, and I found a group of lifelong friends at the University. I graduated, became and actor and moved to NYC. I would not end up like Neil. No matter what!
One night, many years later at a cast party for a show I was doing in NYC near Halloween, someone suggested we should tell ghost stories. After listening to several uninspired attempts at spookiness, I raised my hand.
“I have one. And it’s true.”
That night, I told Brayden’s story for the first time. As best I could. I didn’t mention Tom or my suspicions about Tom and Brayden because I couldn’t quite put it into words yet, but I did, for the first time understand and share what had actually happened with Brayden and me in that theater lobby decades before, playing the arcade game while “She-Devil” showed without us.
I’ll never know if Brayden was gay or bisexual. But I certainly wonder. What might have happened if I could have openly told Brayden about my feelings for him and shared those feelings with supportive parents and friends? Could we have started dating? Could Brayden have been my first instead of Tom? Would Brayden still be alive?
I would like to think it was possible and would’ve been wonderful. I would like to think that together we would have been able to combat Tom’s advances. And if not, at least we could have been there for each other and told someone what happened.
But people didn’t talk about these things. Not in Corinth, Mississippi, not in the late 80s or the 90s and maybe not even now.
Instead I kept it secret for years, turning to drugs, and Brayden is dead.
Even though I will never know what could have been, I do know what was - that Brayden was not only my first crush, he was my first love.