Epilogue

Grayson shuffles inside a dark building, a loud door slamming shut behind him. As he scans his surroundings, the thought occurs to him that he's inside Felton High School. There's a path lined with lit votive candles along the floor, leading him down the first hallway of his old school. He passes the principal's office on his left, when the candlelit path turns a corner into what was once a room for study hall.

A table sits in the center of the room, several newspapers strewn about the surface. Grayson lifts the top paper, holding it up to read the headline in the glow of the candles.

AUTHOR DIES IN NEW YORK, HUSBAND DEPARTS TEN DAYS LATER

He tosses the paper aside as he fishes around for the next.

DRUNK FELTON MAN CHARGED WITH THE VEHICULAR HOMICIDE OF OWN SON

Grayson stacks the second newspaper on top of the first, with a third already in his grasp, poising it up to the light.

HEIR TO FINANCE MOGUL AND FORMER SENATOR ARTHUR WILKINS TO MAKE BIG SCREEN DIRECTORIAL DEBUT AFTER MOVIE RIGHTS OBTAINED FOR NOVEL: ‘brOKEN IN THE BAYOU.' TO BE FILMED LATER THIS YEAR

A fourth paper remains on the table. He reaches down to scrape it across the table, tilting his head to capture the headline.

INTERNATIONAL BEST-SELLING AUTHOR AND HUSBAND TO BE POSTHUMOUSLY HONORED WITH PULITZER PRIZE

He throws the last paper on top of the others before persisting down the winding path of candles, then around a corner hallway leading to the computer lab. Grayson is favored with a projector descended from the ceiling, its ambient light flickering against a white vinyl screen. There's a podium six feet away, housing a small remote. He approaches the stand to press the play button, whereupon the white jittery light smooths out into a moving, grainy color picture.

Grayson's mother hunches over her newborn baby, smiling tenderly. She blows a kiss while reaching her hand down into the bassinet. Within a flash, the screen transitions to a shot of a large, wooded area off in the distance. Grayson's parents bend down, clapping at the milestone of him taking his first steps. The video fast forwards to the moment he received his first bicycle on his fourth birthday. He straddles the seat, peddling off into the sunset.

Grayson remains in the computer lab remembering all the momentous occasions of his lifetime. After the many years of his childhood, the projector whisks his spirit to the first memory of a shy Julian Torres standing at the end of a bookshelf. The boy's brownish-orange irises warming over his timidity. In another instant, the screen transitions to the two of them half naked in a dark shed with streaks of rain treading down a small window. And within a matter of a second, Grayson is reminded of the happy milestone of strutting across a stage in a football field on his High School graduation day.

The projector sputters obnoxiously causing a pause. In another split-second, the screen transitions to him and Julian in his truck, their hands clasped together as the cityscape of New York City comes into view, as they cross over the Hudson. The memories skip ahead to the moment he kisses Julian at Wollman Rink on the night of his proposal, before flashing forward to their naked bodies facing each other in their bedroom with the dancing candle flame nearby. Sunshine and a sandy beach cloak the screen with a glance at them standing before God's roaring Atlantic Ocean and dozens of people, reciting their vows to one another.

Grayson stands in silence as the projector fades to black. He feels his spirit being persuaded to walk back towards the hallway and continue down the path of votive candles. Each flame pirouettes while he rounds the corner, leading him to a set of double doors at the library. Once he's inside, the flickering trail ushers him straight to the edge of two opposing bookshelves. No more candles can be seen, but he spots Julian appear from the other aisle of shelves. The man's face alight with an impassioned smile.

"Took you long enough," Julian says, outstretching his arms.

Grayson rushes towards his lover without a single moment to spare, even though the concept of time ceases to exist in his newly welcomed dimension.

"Meus amor," Grayson moans with relief, tracing his fingers across Julian's cheek. "It's really you?"

Julian tightens his embrace around Grayson. "It's really me, Saccharo Ferre," he replies, brimming with confidence. "Welcome home."

Their kiss lasts for an indefinite length. Grayson's hand lassoes his man's neck, while Julian's palm drums against Grayson's backside. The Puerto Rican sensation gently pulls away from Grayson's clutch, resting his hand over the architect's heart.

"Follow me, meus amor," Julian whispers, taking Grayson's hand.

They turn around, facing a wall off in the distance. Julian tugs Grayson down the aisle surrounded by shelves of stories and knowledge from a whole lifetime. Meanwhile, a brilliant white light flickers before them. Grayson follows his lover's lead into the blinding chasm. And with his very last step beyond its threshold, the weight of an entire era melts away as he joins Julian into eternity.

THE FUCKIN' END