Star.

"So that's it?"

"That's it," Eric confirmed. He looked at the stack of bills in disappointment, unsure how a decade of hard work had led them to this point. They were broke, every last dime lost because of some shit business manager they'd found after Marvin retired last year. Eric blamed himself, not Vincent, for trusting the guy. He should have followed his instincts, but instead, he'd gone with what Vince wanted. Eric knew better than that. Vince was all heart, while Eric lived inside his head. It was his job to make sure that they had the right balance.

Vince cradled his head in his hands and looked down at his scruffy tennis shoes. "Alright, we have like $1,000 in the safe upstairs. That's enough to buy two tickets back to New York. We can stay at your mom's house while she is in Florida," he decided. Eric had suggested it two months ago when things had first started to go south, but Vince had been too proud then. His pride was gone now. It was more important to make sure that E was taken care of and that they had somewhere to live. "I'll call Ari when we get there and see if he can find me something in New York. I can do commercials or get a play."

Eric hated that Vince's career was going to take several giant leaps backward because he hadn't been paying attention. "No, I'll get a job managing a restaurant or something. Antonio still has stake in Sbarro, I'm sure he'll hook me up with something," he argued. There was no way he was going to let Vince take the fall.

"Hey, c'mon, E," Vince said softly. He reached for Eric's hand and enveloped it tightly in his. "This is not your fault any more than it is mine. We had no way of knowing that Victor was going to end up in some huge fraud scheme. We're not the only people he screwed. It doesn't matter, anyway. We always said that we didn't need any of this. So we go back to Queens, who cares? I always kind of wondered what it would be like for us to be there anyhow. Let's just go home."

The smile playing on Vince's face was nothing short of brilliant, and even more importantly, it was completely genuine. The whole situation didn't shake Vince to his core like it did Eric. He truly was happy as long as he had E by his side. When the bright lights fade and Hollywood has forgotten his name, Vince will be happy to know that he will still be the leading man in E's life. "I love you, Vin."

"I know you do, you big sap," Vince teased before leaning over to kiss Eric. Now let's go pack up the few things that they can't take away from us and get the hell out of this town. I've had enough of Hollywood for awhile."

And so Eric follows Vince upstairs and packs his life's contents into a pair of small suitcases. They are at the airport within the hour and in New York in just under seven. The air is cooler in New York, with spring just finally arriving in early May. They ride from JFK out to Queens, and Eric lets himself into his childhood home with the key his mom keeps hidden under the fake rock on her porch. Vince smiles nostalgically at a framed picture of Eric at eleven while Eric starts coffee in the kitchen.

"We should probably call our moms at some point," Eric says to no one in particular while looking for his favorite mug in the top cabinet.

Vince leans in the doorway and watches him work, reading the tension in his hunched shoulders and wishing that he could ease it away with a touch or a kiss. Vince hadn't said it earlier but now he suddenly can't wait to say the words. He crosses the tiny kitchen and drops a kiss on the side of Eric's neck. "Love you."

Vince's arms slide around Eric's waist and hold him there at the counter just long enough to feel the onslaught of Eric breaking down. E turns around in Vince's arm and buries his face in his partner's shirt. He keeps apologizing over and over again, all the guilt rising to the surface. Vince soothes him until he hears Eric utter three little words, "I failed you."

"You didn't fail me, E," he says almost angrily, pulling back just enough so that he can look into those familiar blue eyes. "I wouldn't have had any of that if it wasn't for you, but that's not important. I don't need those things. I need you. You're the only thing I need. We'll figure this out, we always do. You'll take care of me, I'll take care of you. That's how it works, right? The only way you could ever fail me is if you gave up on us."

They both knew that would never happen, not if they had made it this far without killing each other. So they did what they had to do. Eric managed to find a job working at an agency thanks to a friend of Ari's and Vince picked up a six-week stint at a small play off Broadway. They lived off cheap takeout from the Thai place around the corner from E's mom's house when they wanted to eat out, but Eric tried to cook something most nights. Vince even did their laundry a few times when there wasn't enough money to send it out.

And then as quickly as it fell apart, the hands of fate intervened again and Vince landed a big romantic comedy opposite Natalie Portman that just happened to be shooting in Manhattan. Eric stayed at the agency until Vince received his first payment then camped out on set to network as much as possible and find the next big role. They'd eat lunch together in Vince's trailer while they ran lines and would go back to the house at night as they talked about their day. It was a nice little life, a far cry from the first go around.

"So that's it?" Vince asked nearly six months to the day from when he had first realized he didn't have a dollar to his name. He looked down at the contract and grinned, his bold signature scrawled across the dotted line. "We own the house, our debts are paid and you have a Mercedes. It's like none of this happened."

"We have a loft, a Volkswagen and a zero balance on the Amex card. It's hardly like nothing happened, but it'll do," Eric declared. He leaned back and allowed Vince to wrap his arm around him. It was the third time they'd gone from poor to rich, and Eric hadn't really missed the money all that much. "Ready for bed?"

"Yeah," Vince said. He stood up and stretched before grabbing their empty plates to put them in the kitchen sink. It had been spaghetti tonight, an E specialty. It had probably cost less than five dollars to make and tasted better than anything he'd ever had at a fine Italian restaurant. Life was kind of like that now – simple but content. He was still a leading man to Eric and that made him the biggest fucking star in the universe. Not bad for a guy from Queens.