garyalanhidalgo

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RomCom to Murder? Why My Next Stop in the Queerniverse is a 90s Mystery!

Kamusta, fabulous readers, and welcome to July!

All I can say is WHATTA JUNE! In case you’re not caught up, we traveled from New York City’s Stonewall Inn and its history-making riots to the literal end of the rainbow when Pride went global. Thanks to your optimism and insight, I didn’t miss a beat restarting GaryAlanHidalgo.com, among other things. Maraming salamat–thank you very much–for making my 4-part History of Pride series so memorable. If you’ve swept up the glitter and put away your Pride Spotify playlists for next year–ok, those can stay–I thought we could start July with a little peek behind the curtain with a project near and dear to my heart.

Already checked into The Hotel Cairo? Thanks! If you haven’t, what are you waiting for, sweetie? Hughie and Fabian are waiting! Hopefully, you’ve ridden the roller coaster of love, hate, and everything in between. Revived your belief in second chances. Embraced the healing power of community. A tall order, but I’m confident this romantic comedy can do it. I adore the romcom genre with its mainstays of witty banter, hope, and last-minute reunions. It’s the perfect playground for someone who’s mantra is Love & Laughter.

So, you might be wondering … why is my next stop in the Queerniverse a murder mystery? One set all the way in the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” 90s?

Defending Happily Ever Afters (On the Contrary, I Enjoy Writing Them)

Whether as a writer or reader, I will always root for happily ever after! Particularly a queer one with all our challenges, no matter the era. Exactly 10 years after marriage equality for same-sex couples in the United States was passed, it’s still not the standard HEA ending. Republican lawmakers want to overturn it. Somewhere, I’m sure queer couples still can’t get the wedding cake they want. Remember when some county clerks initially denied marriage licenses to same-sex couples?

Back to queer stories. For too long, our representation was limited, and we couldn't even be the main character. Instead, we were recurring characters in 70s sitcoms (All in the Family, Barney Miller), shock 80s villains (Dressed to Kill, Sleepaway Camp), and the 90s best friend (My Best Friend’s Wedding). 

The first gay romantic comedy I saw was 1999’s Trick, which coincided with my officially coming out. Both leads were out gay males. Check. They fall in love. Check. I laughed. Check. Check. Coco Peru and Tori Spelling, enough said. I appreciate coming out stories, but I was at a point in my life where I was ready to fall in love. I saw it multiple times at Sunset Plaza, bought the DVD using my employee discount at DVD EXPRESS (a dotcom, so 90s), and forced all my friends to watch it. Now it was 2022, and I’m no longer pushing 30! No! I passed 50! It’s all good! 

Writing The Hotel Cairo was my answer to my fears and doubts. I wanted to fall in love again like with that first gay romcom movie I saw. This time with two mature gay men. I’m neither of them, but (secret) I have all their baggage and heartbreaks! I played What if… the universe (prominent in the book) pushed them to find love again. Of course, Fabian, with another character, because angst, and Hughie already had a quick fling in the limo with his TV nephew from the soap, Autumn of My Discontent in Chapter 1. In between their near misses, misunderstandings, and HEA, I set out to build a sanctuary not only for the characters but for you too. Assure you that despite the drama, protestors, and wedding cake vandals, TRUE LOVE ALWAYS WINS! It’s even a line in the book (Spoiler Alert):

“You’ll help select our tuxes, keep our wedding rings safe, and naturally, provide me with emotional support for all my wedding jitters.” “Your what now?” He froze as he considered asking James whether his best man kissing his groom-to-be disqualified him from the proud honor. “We should celebrate.” Before he opened his mouth, Happy brought out a tray with three champagne glasses overflowing with celebratory bubbly. He handed them each a glass. “Since you’re the best man, offer a toast to James and Fabian.” “What words of wisdom will you share, Mr. Best Man?” James asked. “To James and Fabian,” he said, raising his glass, “true love always wins.”

This was inspired by 2015’s #LOVEWINS I tweeted (Bluesky now) everytime a country passed marriage equality. That was a joy!

Building Hughie and Fabian’s slow-burn romance from meet cute to HEA with lots of “will-they-won’t they” moments and snappy dialogue was a dream come true. It also filled me with hope. As a community, let’s hang on to #LOVEWINS or “True love always wins” when queer love and rights are challenged again. Says so much.

EXTRA! EXTRA! Love & Laughter Solve a Murder

So why switch to mystery and a series with Fantabulous! Here’s the secret, sweeties, Love & Laughter isn’t exclusive to romcoms. In fact, they’re probably the only way to stay sane in the darkest of times. And a series not a standalone like The Hotel Cairo because in my Queerniverse mission, I want to write genre fiction with queer characters tied to LGBTQ+ (a term we won’t use yet) history. A series is the best way to accomplish this. Besides, haven’t you heard, I’m a soap opera fan? I grew up on love triangles, long-lost children, multiple personalities, cliffhangers, and, of course, murder mysteries!

As for the 90s setting, when you can use “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” and Matthew Shepard as era bookends, there are so many intriguing and meaningful stories to tell. It was still a dangerous time for our community even with New Queer Cinema (My Own Private Idaho), Ellen, and Will & Grace in the timeline. It was still the height of the AIDS crisis. There was an edge to everything from fashion to music. But also a newness from the Internet and (for me) the LGBTQ+ community. I started to go out to gay bars in 1995 and came out in 1999. This era is near and dear to my heart!

Fantabulous! (yes stylized with !) is the queer bar that’s the heart of the series. Fantabulous! is also the series name and the title of Book 1. Yes, I’ve used it correctly. It continues the theme of queer sancturies, I started with The Hotel Cairo. But here, there’s no guarantee of a Happily Ever After. Someone gets murdered in Chapter 1. Groups that see their customers as less than human picket the bar at their memorial. The chosen family that runs the bar, headed by beloved 80s TV detective, Ian Hornsby, and his boyfriend, Ricky Luna, a Filipino chef, can’t just be in love. Not when there’s a mystery to solve and love triangles with dead lovers.

Now you know a little more why I’m trading the bright and safe lobby of The Hotel Cairo for the dark and dangerous dancefloor of Fantabulous! Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of Love & Laughter to go around in this Queerniverse...

Let's Talk Genre!

Check into the RomCom: If you haven't experienced Hughie and Fabian's journey, now is the perfect time! Find The Hotel Cairo on Amazon!

What Are Your Favorite Genre Blends? Do you love a mystery with a dash of romance? A sci-fi with comedic elements? Let me know your favorite genre-bending stories in the comments!

Get Ready for Fantabulous!: Sign Up for my Love & Laughter Newsletter to be the first to get cover reveals, release dates, and exclusive sneak peeks!

Follow the Journey: Let's keep the conversation going on Facebook, Instagram, and Bluesky!

Stay tuned, my fabulous friends. The next chapter of the Queerniverse is going to be a roller coaster.

Love & Laughter,

Gary Alan Hidalgo

[garyalanhidalgo]

Pride Unlimited! Our LGBTQ+ Stories Shared Without Borders

Kamusta, my fabulous global family! 🏳️‍🌈❤️🌍

Ever since I relaunched GaryAlanHidalgo.com, I’ve greeted you with Kamusta, “how are you?” in the Filipino language. As a Filipino-American, it was important for me to share my culture in small and BIG ways (stay tuned for the upcoming Fantabulous! series). I can’t believe this is the last full week of June. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading the history of Pride from the brick-throwing “NO MORE!” of Stonewall to the no less dangerous first protest marches. From the beginning, it was all about the power of visibility! If you attended a Pride event this month, congratulations! You’re continuing the spirit of Stonewall even as it has evolved to what it is today:

Protest + Partying = Modern Pride

It’s a simple yet elegantly messy equation we covered last week. Wherever on earth you’re reading this final June essay, I hope you had the best Pride Month. In 2023, 101 United Nations states supported LGBTQ+ visibility events, with at least 61 cities holding Pride events. Yes, from Christopher Street in New York City to the streets of Los Angeles/West Hollywood, Manila, Sydney, and beyond (more later), this post is all about Pride Without Borders!

A Rainbow Around the World…

Of course, started with a riot at the bar we’ve already visited. No matter how much I’ve written about it this month, it’s still so unbelievable. That solitary, demoralized plea for dignity at an NYC gay bar in 1969 grew into a global chorus, here and now, that cannot be ignored. Today, Pride is celebrated on every continent. That includes Antarctica (the beyond for most). If you’re in Antartica, I wish to greet you, especially, HAPPY (EARLY) PRIDE! It’s called Polar Pride and commemorates the contribution of queer people in polar research and operations in November. But you get the global picture.

All over the earth, Pride has been welcomed and adapted into many, many cultures and languages. In countless cities, it’s the familiar epic parades and parties honoring the hard-won freedoms of the LGBTQ+ community as a whole. While in more remote places, even in the United States, there’s less hoopla but just as much heart. Depending on where you are, your Pride may be more protest than party. It could even resemble the first post-Stonewall marches, including the danger posed just by showing up. Sadly, such a gathering may still not be legal in your area. Worse, being gay could be illegal even in 2025. Although your “Pride” looks and feels different from my “Pride,” you already know its origins and why visibility matters. That’s where its resilient spirit lives on to inspire, especially where LGBTQ+ rights remain out of reach. Rest assured, especially this month, worldwide visibility counts. It says no queer person is alone. That mattered to Stonewall’s marginalized of the marginalized turned rioters. To the protestors turned marchers in the precursor of today’s Gay Pride parade. Showing up is a celebration of identity, a demand for dignity, a party for protest. A shout of “NO MORE!”

No Need for Google Translate: We Speak from the Heart!

What genuinely connects queer folk beyond the borders are the challenges we face, in different degrees, just for existing. We have innumerable stories in multiple languages. But our shared human experiences stretch beyond geography, and as we’ve explored this Pride Month, eras.

It’s like the stories I write for the Autumn of My Discontent Queerniverse. I write about specific characters at specific times. 60-year-old actor Hughie Roman is in present-day Hollywood. Former teen idol Ian Hornsby is in 90s Venice Beach. What they struggle with as gay men. That’s universal!

As is our search, as LGBTQ+ folk, for love. Whether you've gone to a queer bar like Fantabulous! to find love, or, like Hughie, taken a ride to the Hotel Cairo with your logical Uber driver. However, he wouldn’t readily admit it, perhaps because the new hotel manager of the hotel you–you know–co-own sounded promising. You don't need a passport to go on the journey. The joy of finding that special someone who sees you, warts and all, is a given in any language. Spoilers Ahead in an excerpt from Chapter 4: Richard Hunter in the Flesh (the title’s already spicy):

He entered the room, sure he had enough time to remove the offensive garments. Fabian’s first thought was to turn on the lights so his guest didn’t walk into the bedroom, which in five minutes while he showered went from dazzling to pitch black. He reached for the light switch. Hughie Roman was drying himself off with a cotton towel when the overhead lights flooded the room. The hotel manager’s cheeks flushed red-hot at the brief glimpse of the actor’s nude backside, his creamy tan stretched from head to toe. The skin on most of his back glistened with shiny droplets that looked like he was sweating from intense activity. Hughie turned around, still not noticing he had company. He didn’t have a young man’s body with washboard abs like some celebrities. He may even have had a slight bulge, but it was neither fat nor flat. Fabian’s eyes traced the salt and pepper wisps of hair congregating in faint strokes across his armpits, chest, and tummy down to his … Fabian’s mouth dropped wide open as he finally covered his eyes … “Mr. Roman?”

At least, perpetual Daytime Emmy loser and recent gay divorcee, Hughie, is in good eyes…I mean hands with Fabian. Every culture knows regret and heartbreak, especially us resilient queers. We’ve all lost someone we love, whether through irreconcilable differences, time, or tragedy. We all know how it hurts. Moreso, when it comes to discrimination, which is why Pride is a universal symbol for hope. Better days? They are ahead. Even now. ESPECIALLY NOW

That’s the most incredible part of being part of a chosen family. The way Rusty, Happy, and the whole crew rally around Hughie in The Hotel Cairo, with unconditional love.  Says a lot considering he’s a 60-year-old soap actor who owns a hotel yet is heartbroken he’s never won an Emmy. Yet, beautifully, they understand. We understand rejection and getting older deeper than others. Maybe that’s why a trans woman and an 80-year-old gay man accept Hughie. Warts and all. Thanks to the universal truths of our queer experience, Pride going global says, “You are my family.” One and all.

Connecting Humans One Story at a Time

This week’s topic gets to the very heart of why I created a Queerniverse. I wanted to tell stories about our experience across the decades: characters with different backgrounds, with different lives, in different historical contexts, who are all connected by their shared humanity. As Pride 2025 winds down—and in some places, just revs up—my final wish is that this journey has helped you feel that connection, too. From a riot on Christopher Street to a rainbow flag flying in Antarctica, our stories prove that no queer person is ever truly alone.

Maraming Salamat—thank you so much—for taking this journey with me.

Let's Keep the Global Conversation Limitless!

Experience a Universal Love Story: If you haven't yet, check into "The Hotel Cairo"! Its themes of second-chance love and finding your sanctuary are for everyone, everywhere. Find it on Amazon!

Share Your Connection: What's a universal LGBTQ+ theme that always resonates with you, no matter the story's setting? Love? Found Family? Resilience? Let me know in the comments!

Join My Community: Sign Up for my Love & Laughter Newsletter for more stories, history, and exclusives!

Follow Along: Let's chat more on Facebook, Instagram, and Bluesky!

Looking Ahead: Thank you for joining me on this incredible Pride Month journey! Stay tuned as we gear up for the Fall 2025 launch of "Fantabulous!" – I can't wait to share it with you!

Happy Pride, my fabulous, global family!

Love & Laughter,

Gary Alan Hidalgo

[garyalanhidalgo]

Introducing Me, The Hotel Cairo, and a New Queerniverse!

Kamusta, fabulous reader! 👋

For anyone new to my little corner of queer fiction, I wanted to properly introduce myself. I'm Gary Alan Hidalgo, and yes, this shirt is my baby! ❤️😂

I'm an out gay author, and my passion is writing LGBTQ+ fiction filled with what I know can save the world: Love & Laughter! My stories dive headfirst into our rich, colorful, and sometimes messy queer history to explore where we've been, where we are, and where we're going.

This shirt features the cover of my standalone romcom, The Hotel Cairo, which is a swoon-worthy, LMFAO story about a sixty-year-old sacked soap star (I’m a fifty-four myself, so I get it!) who thinks he's completely done with love... until he meets the charming manager of a quaint B&B he forgot he owned. It's a story all about second chances, finding your sanctuary, and the hilarious journey to a happily ever after.

But sweetie, there's more! The Hotel Cairo is your first entry point into my Autumn of My Discontent Queerniverse – an interconnected world of stories linked by a fictional long-running soap opera. It's my playground for exploring LGBTQ+ history through the decades, from the coded 40s to the dramatic 90s (get ready for the Fantabulous! mystery series!) and beyond. My mission is to tell our stories��� the heartfelt, the hysterical, the historical, the real—and to connect our incredible community. I'm so glad you're here for the ride! ✨

You can check into The Hotel Cairo on Amazon here:

And find my blog and more at:

[garyalanhidalgo]

So Party, Love, & Laugh Defiantly!

Kamusta, fabulous reader and Pride activist aglitter! ✨🏳️‍🌈

This month passed by quickly while we explored the origins of Pride Month from righteous, raucous riot to out and proud parade. What began as the marginalized of the marginalized’s screams of “NO MORE!” at Stonewall turned the first protest marches nationwide in a still danger-filled era, then became rainbow-filled celebrations globally to stay visible. Today, the LGBTQ+ community enjoys the hard-won radical, life-saving power of visibility thanks to those brave rioters and marchers. To repay their sacrifice, our yearly Pride Month isn’t just about celebration but about showing up to stay visible. It may be a far cry from the first Stonewall riot and the first protest march. It’s still our duty as LGBTQ+ to be seen!

As for me, in the very early 2000s, every June wasn’t just the start of summer but Pride Month, but on a less epic neighborhood level (a must-read to understand the LA/Weho relationship) in West Hollywood, CA. Sure, Weho Pride brought out the crème de la crème of celebrity grand marshals and performers, organized by Christopher Street West. If their name doesn’t ring a bell, then do a refresh here. Having been to San Francisco and Seattle because of the Dotcom era, I knew Pride was celebrated nationwide, but now, out (and nearly 30!) me could never imagine Pride as a whole month, much less a whole planet-thing? WHOA!

So, 25 years later, in 2025, it begs the question: What is Pride now? Have the rainbows made us forget the dark clouds of rioting? Has going global meant it left our own backyard?

The answer’s as exquisitely complex as our community.

Partying as a Political Act: Love & Laughter is Resistance

If you feel guilty that you enjoy the party atmosphere of Pride, don’t worry. Not only is enjoying the party valid, it’s vital. Just as early-2000 me couldn’t imagine a Pride without borders, I would be no less happy the queer community is now a global one. I’m certain the Stonewall rioters and post-revolution marchers (still protesting injustice) never imagined the streets shut down for LGBTQ+ folk, celebrating openly with our chosen GLOBAL family, kissing your loved one in public without fear, more so, celebrating a same-sex wedding openly… Take it from Happy Holden, the owner of the town’s alleged gay bar, minority co-owner of the Hotel Cairo, and it turns out, so much more: Spoilers ahead! Turn back if you want to enter the hotel a virgin…yadda…yadda…

“Still, you must have been heartbroken watching the man you loved and wanted to marry, marry someone else.” “But I never fantasized about marrying Leo.” Happy’s voice trembled. “As committed as we were to each other, same-sex marriage wasn’t even an idea in our heads. Young gays like Berto may not remember a time when we had to fight just for the right to love.” “Or in Leo’s case, not allow his dream to suffer because of who he loved.” Hughie had respected Leo Cicero all the more.

But that is what they fought for, and too many times, bled for. Not necessarily a happily ever after, but a breather where you can feel safe and be happy for however long it lasts. For now, the people who still tell us we don’t deserve to love but deserve to die because we do, don’t get to be right. At least for now, we get to live like everyone, even if dark clouds are threatening. Those same people forget that after the rain comes the rainbow. So party, love, and laugh defiantly! 

Yes, “Love & Laughter” is my mantra now and forever, but I likewise loved partying, often too much (saving it for the upcoming Fantabulous! era). Right now, the dark clouds seem to be gathering again. Protests are getting louder and louder. I’m not ignoring that’s the reality, especially with more marginalized of the marginalized. We’re still included. That's why it’s more important than ever this June Pride to shine. To be part of an even greater rainbow. Because happiness is just as powerful in our struggle.

It’s the same tightrope that majority owner Hughie and new manager Fabian walk in The Hotel Cairo (out now, have you checked in yet?) as they finally find they’re on the same page. Both desire to turn the hotel into a sanctuary but face the political pressure and pious protests. Picture this:

“Thanks.” Fabian belched. “Guess I was really thirsty.” “Slow down,” he warned his erratically behaving companion. “You’ll be tipsy before the first act starts. Was there some trouble with the ad you posted? Is that why you’re acting so weird?” “Weird?” Fabian sounded disappointed that he’d reminded him of the real world. “I didn’t expect so many bands to turn down an audition because they’d have to play at a same-sex wedding. I should be grateful they didn’t make a big deal about it. In fact, they were very polite, explaining that they couldn’t do it because it disagreed with their Christian beliefs.” “You should be grateful?” Hughie raised his voice. “How can saying screw your kind be very polite? That was their Christian intention by turning us down.” “I didn’t want any trouble for the hotel.” Fabian’s voice broke. “Or you.” “I know. I’m sorry, I snapped.” “That still leaves us with plenty of talented wedding bands who want the job.” “You should be glad to be rid of the haters. You have enough on your mind, seeing as how you guzzled your champagne like you wanted to get drunk.”

That’s it. That’s the magic. A moment of connection, to stop and think, that doesn’t erase the trouble brewing around them. In a surprising reversal, it’s defeatist Hughie who schools defiant Fabian on the importance of not keeping quiet. In another switch-up, it’s Fabian who’s drinking a great deal, not so much because of others' “Christian” beliefs, but… Go find out for yourself in this standalone romantic comedy.

Stonewall Never Ended, It Just Got More Fabulous

Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities opens with the now famous, “It was the worst of times, it was the best of times.” Although set against the backdrop of the French Revolution, it perfectly captures 2025. Marriage equality happened a decade ago. Win! But the right is renewing its fight against same sex marriage. Boo! It’s a boo not a loss. Conservatives never really stopped fighting the same way that we never really just sit it out. The party is a necessity (the best of times), but never forget the protest part (the worst of times). There are also book bans targeting our stories, and laws targeting our trans siblings. Ensuring we use Pride to be a protest is as urgent as ever.

With rainbow flags as our battle standards, our parades are still marches. Of protest. NO MORE! In early 2000, LA Pride had an estimated half a million attendees. When we show up in epic numbers, we send a clear message to all: We are here. We will fight for our rights. We will not be erased! 

As simple as that. It’s the beauty of modern Pride, they didn’t have in the past. It’s a riotous party. That comes with much meaning. We can sing our Pride anthems to show our anger against injustice. We can dance to celebrate how far our chosen family has come. And we gather in great numbers worldwide, they can’t ignore our demand for justice for everyone still left behind. We should draw strength from being more than the first 200 Stonewall rioters or less than 1,000 marchers, the first gay Pride march in NYC. We party with a fabulous purpose.

And We Keep on Going & Talking!

Before the month ends, embrace the duality of today’s Pride! Get your glitter on. Dance until you can dance no more. Celebrate your far-from-perfect but always beautiful life. Then rest. And tomorrow, grab a sign, march, and shout because you don’t take anything for granted. In between, find some Love & Laughter, connect with other humans. That’s what keeps us going.

The Hotel Cairo is Relaunched & Ready for You! Check into a world where the fight for sanctuary is fueled by moments of pure Love & Laughter! Find it on Amazon!

Protest or Party? What does Pride mean to you in 2025? Do you feel the pull of one over the other, or do you find power in the blend? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Get the Inside Scoop: Sign Up for my Love & Laughter Newsletter for more history, exclusives, and sneak peeks!

Follow the Journey: Let's chat more on Facebook, Instagram, and Bluesky!

Come back next week: We go global as we learn about “Pride With No Borders.” How did our chosen family grow? It’s all about how our homespun queer stories of love, heartbreak, and loss connected…around the world.

Happy Pride, sweeties! Grrr…don’t stop fighting!

Love & Laughter,

Gary Alan Hidalgo

P.S. This is David Archuleta's first-ever Utah Pride performance. Apart from delivering such a powerful performance, he embodies the power of visibility we've

[garyalanhidalgo]

From Protest to Parade: Pride, Visibility & Our Queer Stories Out Loud! 

Kamusta again, my fabulous Pride warriors! ❤️🏳️‍🌈

Welcome back to our journey through the history and heart of Pride Month this June. We kicked off last week by lighting a candle (or more appropriately, a fuse) in honor of the Stonewall Riots. When LGBTQ+ folk reminisce that the first Pride was a riot, we aren’t exaggerating. As the Donna Summer and Barbra Streisand duet goes, No More Tears (Enough Is Enough), the marginalized of the marginalized were finally fed up! Why not? All they wanted was their dignity and sanctuary. It was about fighting for our right to simply be.

Naturally, you want to know what happened next? If you’re celebrating Pride in your part of the world, you can thank the Stonewall rioters. But how did that raw cry for justice born on the street outside a gay bar evolve into the worldwide phenomenon we celebrate now? Don’t worry, today’s Pride is just as fierce and heartfelt under all the glitter. It endures through shifting landscapes because of the queer community’s spirit to fight to be SEEN and the radical power it has.

Pride’s First Steps: Christopher Street Liberation Day – When Visibility Was a Weapon

Stonewall Inn, as a gay bar, went out of business shortly afterwards, but only a year after the Stonewall Uprising, a brave new chapter started. On June 28, 1970, the first marches commemorating the riots took place in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Chicago. In NYC, it was called “Christopher Street Liberation Day” to honor the location of Stonewall and what it genuinely was. I was born in 1971, but, sweetie, I still can’t fathom how much courage it took to march that day. Imagine, a year before, the riots started because Stonewall was unfairly raided and its queer customers, on top of being arrested, had their names published in newspapers. Yet thousands of LGBTQ+ folk like us stepped out of the shadows and onto the streets shouting with pride!

This certainly wasn’t the corporate-sponsored, rainbow-bedazzled float that’s passing by you now. A year after the historic uprising, the first march was still held to protest injustice. Therefore, it was just as much a political statement, every bit as angry, raw, and defiant as the rioters the year before. There was still inhumane discrimination and a lack of respect for basic human rights. Worse, participants risked the same brutal consequences from arrest to public shaming to violence. If you marched, you risked not just your safety but your job and your family. You may wonder, was it worth it? NYC had the largest turnout with marchers covering nearly 15 blocks. These marchers wanted to be seen. For them, remaining invisible was a death sentence.

The Evolution: From Protest March to Pride Parades (and back again?)

From that first one, marches became more frequent, spreading to more cities, and more people attended. Because queer culture had so many facets, these diverse subcultures influenced the amazing sights and sounds we see today, such as the unique fashion and the memorable music. Pride even got its iconic symbol of diversity, the rainbow flag, which deserves its own post or series. Designed by artist Gilbert Baker, an openly gay man and a drag queen, the rainbow flag first flew at the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Parade celebration on June 25, 1978. It soon became our universal symbol of diversity, unity, and hope as "Liberation Day Marches" gradually transformed into "Pride Parades."

When we step back further, we can see how Pride’s history reflects the LGBTQ+ community’s quest from protecting its priceless sanctuaries to showing (yes, proudly) that we exist, and own the power that visibility in the mainstream provides. Today, we shouldn’t forget that the fun, colorful parades aren’t just about celebrating our identity, our love. Moreover, we must remember we enjoy that freedom because all the queers before us demanded that right when society was less open-minded and we weren’t so out. While you and I are always fabulous, times may get rough. What to do? Stay visible, especially in June, because, sweetie, attendance is protesting, celebrating is resistance! Secret: The riots never really left. Just disguised as our powerful gay anthems and lively parades.

Fictional Characters March Too: Visibility in the Autumn of My Discontent Queerniverse

Queerniverse? LGBTQ+ people are more like multiverses unto our own! I know I’m having crises/incursions hourly. Anywho, this quest for visibility and the need to live openly, is a major theme that inspired my Autumn of My Discontent queer universe. The unifying thread is my fictional long-running soap, allowing each character in their own Dark Age, Age of Enlightenment, or Somewhere In-Between, to “find the light!” I miss Guiding Light!

The Hotel Cairo co-owner (out now! Haven’t you heard?), Hughie Roman, the soap’s fired star, swam the shark-infested waters of Hollywoof for decades during a Dark Age that was the product of a more repressed era in show business. As his story reveals, he was only “coaxed out of the closet…” (more below)

While I came out in the late 90s, I’ve met many Gen Xers who came out later in life like Hughie likewise to guard their careers. It was understandably a more complicated, less voluntary development compared to what younger generations experience. Nevertheless, Hughie “marched” too, albeit due to personal relationships and shifting societal norms, especially in Hollywoof. Not really a spoiler…

Herbie raised his iPhone and accepted his unseen audience’s condolences, well wishes for next year, and even a handful of date invitations. Hughie couldn’t help but notice his muscular arms and well-developed pectorals, which he hadn’t had when he screen-tested ten years ago for the role of Toby Hunter, Richard’s cad nephew. A fit of nostalgia came over him. Little Herbie, as the cast and crew had nicknamed him, had grown up on Autumn of My Discontent, coming out publicly not even a year later and becoming even more well-loved by soap fans thereafter. Hughie, on the other hand, was coaxed out of the closet in 2020 because his fiancé refused to marry anyone in the closet, especially someone who was, on a very, very slow news cycle, fodder for gossip, just because he was on television. As for Larry, all of Hollywood seemed to know he was gay. He’d even been the grand marshal of the West Hollywood Gay Pride parade. Yet for such an out and proud queer person, he lived his personal life out of everyone’s scrutiny. If someone cared who Lameo had dated or was currently doing, they were left to guess.

Thanks to the longevity of soap operas, the Autumn of My Discontent universe, by its very nature, can span decades, from its fictional 1930s radio debut to its “present-day” cancellation. This allows me to reflect on the ever-changing landscape of LGBTQ+ history and visibility. Queers in the late 1930s? I’m excited about that deep dive!

But The Hotel Cairo, although set in the “present-day,” is the start.

Our Stories Still Need to Be Shouted - Loud & Proud!

As an out gay author, my mission is to connect human beings through stories. In my Pollyanna world, even the coldest heart can melt when reading about and becoming fond of fictional queer characters, who show our heartbreaks, our happiness, our hopes, and our dreams. Our humanity. As readers and writers, we have the power to change the world, one reader, one book, one post, one word at a time. Even the villains have hope (huge spoiler):

“I know there’s no way to rebuild some bridges, but I’ve only come to treasure my time at the Hotel Cairo while I’m away. Young Poopy has done a stellar job in my former position.” “His name’s Berto Popov, not Poo—never mind.” Hughie wanted to hang up. Why he was still speaking to her was beyond him. “I’ll let you go,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m truly appalled at my behavior. My bitterness has colored my outlook, especially toward the queer community. I still have a long way to cure my homophobia, but I’m making progress slowly but surely.” “You can cure that?” “With professional help. I’ve learned it was never about my religious beliefs or who you loved. They were convenient excuses. I was channeling my pain.”

Sharing our everyday realities, including homophobia, isn’t comfortable but essential. It’s part of our history and our humor. Hotel co-owner, Xenia Xavier, is the co-worker, friend, or relative whose comments on your Pride pics on Facebook you dread too. Bwahahaha!

Let’s Celebrate Visibility!

"The Hotel Cairo" is Relaunched & Waiting for You! Experience Hughie's own complicated journey to love and visibility! You can find it on Amazon! A Spotify Playlist is also hiding in plain sight.

What does "visibility" mean to you this Pride? How has seeing LGBTQ+ lives represented (or not represented) impacted you? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

Get the Inside Scoop & Future Exclusives: Sign up for my Love & Laughter Newsletter!

Follow Along & Chat: More Pride history and musings happening on Facebook, Instagram, and Bluesky.

Next Week's Topic: We're asking the big question: "Beyond the Rainbow Glitter: Is Pride Still a Protest, a Party, or Both?" And, crucially, how do we find our essential Love & Laughter in the mix?

As we enter its second week, let’s continue to remember those brave marchers of that first Pride. Live your truth out loud, share your stories, and celebrate the power of visibility as individuals and as a community!

Happy Pride!

Love & Laughter,

Gary Alan Hidalgo

[garyalanhidalgo]

OG Pride Was Literally a Riot: Stonewall Inn, Resistance, & Our LGBTQ+ Sanctuaries

Kamusta, my fabulous friends, and HAPPY PRIDE MONTH! 🏳️‍🌈🎉✨

June is HERE! To celebrate, I’m posting on a hopefully laid-back Sunday instead of just another Manic Monday as usual (our new schedule). Can you believe today is June 1? There’s a definite glitter shimmering in the air, anthems proudly playing, and best of all, the marvellous buzz of community, celebration, and yes, righteous defiance (only a healthy dose). From my experiences of Prides past, it’s what makes this time of year so spectacularly inspiring.

Last month, I rolled out the relaunches of the refreshed GaryAlanHidalgo.com and my romcom novel  The Hotel Cairo (out now, btw) by dishing on everything from soaps to ageism to the radical act of love and laughter. We also received an introduction to the importance of queer sanctuaries. Without such places, the modern LGBTQ+ rights movement would have been a whole different story, a sadder one. As we welcome Pride Month worldwide this June, we have to start at a gay bar on Christopher Street in Greenwich Village, New York City: The Stonewall Inn.

Before the Rainbows, There Was Resistance

Before the rainbow flags, the loud and proud parades, and the legalization of same-sex marriage equality (which has Stonewall to thank too), we can’t forget that the first Pride was a riot. The Stonewall Inn (popularly known as Stonewall) had a whole other life before four mafiosos linked with the Genovese crime family reopened it as a gay bar in early 1967. Despite bribes from the owners, it couldn’t secure a liquor license and therefore operated as a private club. As it became a popular hangout with young gay men and other queer characters, outsiders found more and more reason to harass it. It all came to a head in late June 1969 after one such unwarranted invasion. 

Per The Stonewall Inn website, “...one steamy summer night in 1969…” in NYC during an era when being out was illegal, Stonewall Inn was so reviled by polite society and the authorities that the Mafia ran it since no legitimate business owners would dare. Nevertheless, queer folks embraced it. It was one of the few places they could meet with some freedom. That didn’t mean this sanctuary was left in peace. Far from it, police raids were frequent and often violent. Every visit was intended to shame and terrorize its queer patrons during and even after they “visited.” The harassment didn’t stop with being arrested, customer names were also published in newspapers, so they’d lose their jobs, ruin their reputations, and ultimately, destroy their lives.

By that fateful night of June 28 when the riots began, Stonewall’s LGBTQ+ patrons, including gay men, butch lesbians, street kids, drag queens, trans women of color had enough not just of the police raiding one more time but ALL OF IT! Instead of fleeing law enforcement like usual, this time, these marginalized of the marginalized, fought back. The streets around the inn erupted in protests while they clashed with cops. In no way was it planned. It was rage built up over long-term bullying that finally spilled out. More importantly, it was a demand that queer people be allowed to gather in peace, be left with their dignity, to simply exist without fear. And LGBTQ+ folk are ever-resilient. The Stonewall riots lasted for six days from June 28 to July 3, 1969.

No matter what its customers personally thought about Stonewall Inn, it was a queer sanctuary: their sanctuary. No wonder they defended it with their lives, which is what the Stonewall rioters surely thought was at risk. But it was more than defending the building but shouting “NO MORE!” to being treated as less than human. Hopefully, you can likewise appreciate that bigger picture as we celebrate Pride Month again, not just at 53 Christopher Street, Greenwich Village, Manhattan, New York City, USA, but fifty-six years later, on a global scale. That first proud “NO MORE!” that steamy, Saturday night was the spark that ignited the flame of the modern queer rights movement long before today’s pageantry and anthems. 

Sanctuaries Then & Now: From Stonewall to The Hotel Cairo to Fantabulous!

There’s no better proof our community needs its sanctuaries than Stonewall. Places where we can be our authentic selves without judgement and safely are a thread that runs throughout LGBTQ+ history. It’s also a theme I love exploring in my fiction, whether it’s The Hotel Cairo where the new hotel manager, Fabian Flores, wants to sell his passionate “Love is Welcome Here” initiative to anti-love co-owner, Hughie Roman or the upcoming new mystery series, Fantabulous! itself set in a 90s gay bar. Both represent very different queer sanctuaries likewise invaded by uncaring, ignorant forces that end in protest and unfortunately, violence. Nevertheless, both were built out of the desire for a space where love, in all its forms, can breathe freely. Spoilers ahead! Nuff said!

“Let the lovers go.” Mayor Blair stuffed bills leisurely in Hughie’s underwear, then Hunky Hector’s. “They may not be into public displays of affection, but have become rather horny thanks to you, gentlemen. Better they get a room soon. God knows there are plenty of vacancies at the Hotel Cairo.” “The Hotel Cairo is doing just fine,” Hughie said. “Fabian has big plans for its future.” “I apologize for running off at the mouth.” He laughed. “You must be very invested in your hotel. Among other things.” Fabian had overheard Hughie defend him to the mayor. Before he could thank him, James pulled him to the middle of the dance floor as a slow couples-only eighties song took over. “It’s Careless Whisper, one of my all-time favorites,” James said. “We probably won’t get to dance to this until our wedding.” “Wedding?” Fabian felt his bladder loosen. “You’re pale as a ghost. I didn’t intend to frighten you. I meant we’re the grown-ups. When will we get the chance to dance again? At least in public.” “I need to tell you something.” It was time to own up to kissing not just another man but Hughie. Things were already moving too quickly for him to postpone. James was already planning the first dance at their wedding. If the truth meant being dumped again, then Fabian deserved to be hurt. “I-I …” “You?” James held him tighter as they swayed to George Michael’s wounded voice. “I love you,” he said matter-of-factly as he watched Hughie and Barry disappear into the office. “He loves me,” James shouted at his out-of-the-blue declaration. “Everyone, Fabian Flores said he loves me.” Everyone inside the Casablanca clapped and cheered. Deep down, Fabian always knew they had no future.

I cheated! While this scene is in The Hotel Cairo, it does not take place at the Hotel Cairo but the Casablanca, an alleged gay bar in the same conservative town and state of the titular queer sanctuary-to-be. As one protesting resident compared ominously:

“His uncle lies with man too,” the Hell woman piously growled. “The Hotel Cairo is Sodom, and the Casablanca is Gomorrah. Our town will suffer rape, cultic prostitution, male prostitution, and pederasty.”

With such pious growling in their ears daily, the local queer community need more than one safe space to gather their thoughts and feel safe with their chosen family. The characters in both The Hotel Cairo (navigating the post-2015 marriage equality and gay divorcee world) and Fantabulous! (confronting a 90s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” and Matthew Shepard reality) mirror a quieter, everday type of resistance as well. Like you, they’re simply living their truths, seek connection, choose their families, and find love and laughter in a world that denies us what everyone else takes for granted. Thanks to our courage, we build communal and personal sanctuaries we fight to protect.

Pride is Still About That Fight

I first heard about Pride in the late-90s. It certainly was a must-attend celebration in West Hollywood where streets were closed for the main parade (Santa Monica Blvd. bye bye) as well as other epic events that were equally educational and strictly entertainment. I knew it was about being proud of who I was (finally!) and for the LGBTQ+ community as a whole. However, I didn’t know about Stonewall, which was the name of a lesbian bar where a friend took me to play pool. Not THE Stonewall. While twenty-something me enjoyed being in a safe place rather than feel out of place as in my conservative hometown, I was too caught up in the newness of the experience to care about the hard-won freedoms we enjoyed even then. I’m sorry I didn’t investigate how Pride came to be or the name that inspired the bar. 

This Pride Month 2025, let’s remember the courage of those marginalized of the marginalized who shouted that first “NO More!” in queer history. Thank you! Now, every time we create a space where Love & Laughter grows, where queer history is remembered, and where authentic LGBTQ+ lives are seen and celebrated, we’re honoring the Stonewall spirit beyond June and Pride Month.

Join the Celebration & the Conversation!

The Hotel Cairo is Relaunched! If you haven't checked into Hughie and Fabian's world yet, now is the perfect time! Find it on Amazon KDP! 

What does "sanctuary" mean to you? Share your thoughts in the comments below or on social media!

Sign Up for the Newsletter: Get all the latest news, more history deep dives, and exclusives

Follow on Social Media: Let's keep the Pride spirit going all month long! I’m on Facebook, Instagram, and Bluesky.

Next Sunday's Topic: We'll be tracing the evolution of Pride from protest march to parade, and why visibility still matters so much!

Happy Pride, everyone! Let's make it a month of powerful remembrance and joyous resistance!

Love & Laughter,

Gary Alan Hidalgo

[garyalanhidalgo]

Pride Prep: The Radical Act of Love & Laughter!

Kamusta, my fabulous friends!

Congratulations! We’re at the last corner of May, and Pride is practically knocking down the door. Together, we’ve opened our eyes to the queer POV on soap opera history, ageism, and the importance of queer sanctuaries. Thank you for coming along for the ride.

For our final Pride Month Prep conversation, I have to tackle something truly near and dear to my heart. It’s so key to me that I bake it into everything I write, including the essay you’re reading. It inspired my romantic comedy novel, The Hotel Cairo, which I hope you’ve already heard, gets a relaunch this June in time for Pride. That special ingredient is LOVE & LAUGHTER!

Of course, it’s also my motto!

More Than Just a Tagline

Why focus on love and laughter? Such an odd choice, especially when telling stories rooted in LGBTQ+ history and issues, which often involve a great deal of hardship and struggle. Because, sweetie, I’ve likewise learned, when it comes to the resilient queer community, we find happiness, seek connection, and allow ourselves to laugh, even in the face of adversity. You say trial and tribulations? I say LMFAO!

It’s the most radical act of all.

Let’s look back to historical eras we’ve touched on, like the 80s setting that gave birth to The Hotel Cairo’s soap-inspired secrets. It was a decade marked by the terrifying rise of the AIDS crisis, surging political hostility, and widespread social stigma. There was so much pain and loss to prioritize. That would be too easy. But it wouldn’t be the whole story. Not by a long shot.

Humor and Romance as Resilience

Despite the darkest times, queer people found ways to connect, built community, and yes, loved and laughed. As a coping mechanism, humor became our shield as we fought our way through the darkness. It helped us find the light. And as for love, we looked for it even while we were in hell. From momentary connections to lifelong friendships, we found love to remind us of our humanity, even if others looked at us as something less. Even when the world tried to tell us otherwise, queers declared for themselves that our hearts and our passions mattered just as much.

I’m not diminishing the suffering by making Love & Laughter the force of my fiction. It’s about acknowledging them while insisting on the resilience, the spirit, and the innate humanity of our community. Our history and more importantly, people have shown that when the going gets tough… well, LGBTQ+ folk still found reason to dance. We still built chosen families. We still fell in love. We still cracked inappropriate jokes. We still lived as if today were our very last. For many, it was. And speaking of those who lived fiercely, Spoiler Alert: I'm about to share a major character moment for Hughie Roman’s logical Uber driver, Rusty, that truly embodies this resilience.

“I’ve definitely been outed.” He sighed. “Maybe I should reconsider jumping.” “I’m just as pathetic as you, maybe more. Who’s been in love with the same guy since high school?” “Sheriff Hank?” he asked. “But you told him you didn’t go to school with him.” “That’s because Henry Holden Jr. went to school with Rustin Farnsworth.” She sighed. “I was Rustin Farnsworth.” “I’m shocked,” Hughie said, flabbergasted. “Your last name was Farnsworth.” “Stop teasing. If you thought being gay when you were in high school in the fifties was tough?” “Seventies,” he corrected her. “Imagine growing up trans in the Dark Ages right here in Hannibal. I didn’t really know what to call my identity. I just knew I was different, no matter where I went. At school, a lot of the kids and even some teachers teased me. You’d think at least when I got home I’d find some sanctuary from the cruelty. My parents may not have physically abused me, but the emotional abuse was far worse. Because it came from the two people I counted on to help me when no one else would.” “That’s why you’re the strongest person I know.” Hughie held her as she lamented her painful past. He hadn’t quite been the support system she had been to him. Rusty made being a true blue friend seem easy. “You could’ve told me when we first met. It must’ve been tough coming back here.”

Authentic Queer Stories Need Happiness

Far too long has mainstream media reduced queer lives to simple narratives: coming out trauma, victimhood, and always tragic. While these stories have their place and reason, they don’t represent the whole spectrum of our experience. Authentic queer storytelling goes beyond the heartbreak that comes with being LGBTQ+. They must include happiness like in The Hotel Cairo, which I made a standalone, for now, to preserve its (again, spoiler) HEA. It must include exciting but awkward first kisses, being ourselves around chosen family, the insane twists and turns of life, and even unapologetically embracing heartbreak with a smile.

Only Love & Laughter allows us to tell stories where we aren’t limited by our struggles but defined by our capacity to connect, find happiness, and find humor in the suffering. It’s unedited. It’s genuine. Moreover, it's us!

The Spirit of Pride

And as June arrives next week, isn’t that what Pride is ultimately about? To remind us. To protest. To also be happy and hopeful. To celebrate survival and that in the end, love wins. In the meantime, you’re allowed to laugh through your tears. Heck, it’s our queer superpower.

Again, The Hotel Cairo is more than a romcom. It’s a love letter to the spirit of Pride—a story jam-packed with romantic entanglements, LMFAO mishaps, and characters whose humanity defines them more than their flaws and impossible challenges. They seek love anyway. More often, they’re heartbroken. Only sometimes do they find happiness. But it’s worth the risk.

The Countdown is ON!

We’ve prepped, we’ve pondered, and now we’re ready. The June Relaunches of The Hotel Cairo and the refreshed GaryAlanHidalgo.com are finally here!

Final Check! Have you signed up for the newsletter yet? Don't miss the launch day alert!

Get Social! Follow along for countdown posts and more launch day fun! I’m on Facebook, Instagram, and Bluesky.

Spread the Word! Tell your own chosen family who love a good romcom with heart and history! The Hotel Cairo is now open!

Get in the Mood! The Hotel Cairo: Love, Laughter & Libations 🏳️‍🌈🍸Playlist 🎶 is the ultimate soundtrack for Pride prep or anytime you need a swoon-worthy escape. With a dash of 80s daytime drama and campiness, it inspired my book, or vice versa. Grab the book, a martini, and come listen and see if you can guess the connections!

Next week’s topic: I’m kicking off Pride Month by exploring its epic history from the Stonewall Inn to the world.

See you next Monday!

Love & Laughter,

Gary Alan Hidalgo

[garyalanhidalgo]

Pride Prep: Love IS Welcome Here! Queer Sanctuaries & The Hotel Cairo

Kamusta, fabulous readers! Hello, again…

Can you believe we’re already halfway through May (and 2025)? Nevertheless, Pride Month Prep is also in full swing! I’ve already delivered the queer dish on soap operas and tackled the thorny issue of ageism in Hollywoof and our own community. Thank you for coming back for something truly fundamental to LGBTQ+ history and experience: Sanctuary.

It’s that feeling of walking into a place and knowing…knowing…you can breathe. That you can finally be yourself, fully and unashamedly. That last adverb was critical for me. Someone who grew up in a conservative town that today still debates over pride flags. For much of the 80s and 90s, I edited my existence, pretending to have a crush on girls when I fell in love with boys. It wasn’t until I worked in Hollywood, my big dream, that I started to meet real-life out and proud queers like me among many, many allies who made coming out myself almost logical and natural. Yes, I make fun of Hollywoof and its foibles only because of my deep love for my first taste of, as the Hotel Cairo co-owner, Xenia Xavier labelled them:

“Hotel porter?” Xenia said skeptically to the paparazzi. “Don’t you recognize the seventeen-year-old actor who played Mr. Roman’s son in Autumn of My Discontent? I set aside my reservations about same-sex marriage ceremonies being the next evolution for the Hotel Cairo, but as we can all see, LGBTQXYZs are simply out of control, especially these outsiders from Hollywood.”

I waited to exhale until the mid-nineties, thanks to work. Sure, everyone was larger-than-life and even troublesome. That provided the contrast I needed to say goodbye to normalcy, to straightforward, to straight. I wouldn’t officially come out until later in the decade after I’d discovered and gone to gay bars in the queer hub of West Hollywood. It was where I could be me without fear or judgment. As you can see, it wasn’t overnight, even if I’d already accepted I was gay wholeheartedly. It was the rest of the world’s, my world’s, turn to accept it. And safe havens, especially made for queers, new and old, made it easier, safer, and as I’ve described, more natural to come out of the closet. No wonder, for generations, creating and finding these safe spaces has been a cornerstone to LGBTQ+ history and our community’s well-being and survival.

It brings me back to The Hotel Cairo and its upcoming June relaunch. Yes, that countdown.

"Love is Welcome at the Hotel Cairo"

Once More, Spoilers Ahead! Mostly, thematic, like one of the novel’s driving forces, being the hotel’s cute-as-a-chipmunk new manager, Fabian Flores. You have been warned. Anyway, his big initiative is Love is Welcome at the Hotel Cairo, as this excerpt teases:

“I wonder what’s next on the agenda?” Hughie impatiently whispered. “All love is welcome at the Hotel Cairo.” Fabian beamed with pride as he read the title of his five-hour presentation.

Of course, you won’t need to sit for five hours like Hughie Roman and the other shareholders to find out Fabian’s goal isn’t just about good hospitality. It’s a proclamation. It’s about purposefully creating an environment where all love stories are welcome. He wants all guests to feel safe, seen, and celebrated for who they are and who they love. For Fabian, it’s beyond business as usual. Despite its two gay owners and numerous queer staff, the Hotel Cairo is located in a conservative town in a red state. The third co-owner happens to be an enigma. As quoted, Xenia warns against Hollywood-types like Hughie but married, divorced, and quietly inherited some hotel shares from a Hollywoof best of breed. Meanwhile, the manager she handpicked envisions a sanctuary for anyone denied the wedding of their dreams even if same sex marriage was legalized all the way back in 2015. Too bad he needs anti-marriage gay divorcee, Hughie!

“Say no more. Let’s just enjoy our lunch. We’re almost there. “ “At least you get plenty of exercise by always walking from one place to another on this vast property.” Hughie ogled him from head to toe but suddenly stopped before Fabian noticed. “Keeps one deliciously fit.” “If you don’t mind, you may have some insights I could use for my presentation next week.” “Are you planning to make a YouTube ad and need my advice as an artist?” Hughie asked, flustered by the invitation. “Maybe you want me to star in it?”  “No, I thought you could share your experience planning your wedding. Do you have any advice?” As they stopped in front of the mansion, a self-loathing so substantial consumed him that he wanted to vomit.

The majority shareholder’s initial reaction to Fabian’s plans for the Hotel Cairo doesn’t bode well for business or for the remotest possibility of romance. If Mr. Roman would only embrace the spirit of “Love is Welcome,” he’d have a better stay.

A History of Havens: Why Queer Sanctuaries Matter

Fabian’s fictional love-in has deep and significant roots in real LGBTQ+ history. Decades of it. In the mid-nineties, I was lucky to live and work in liberal Los Angeles, but I grew up in a conservative area of Southern California where I went to a Catholic school through high school. Sure, everyone was friendly, but I wore armor even among the many acquaintances whom I’d later cross paths with in West Hollywood. Remember, we grew up in the eighties. We had to stay in the closet for our well-being and survival. But society’s hostility towards queer folks stretches back further to times where the vitriol was more venomous and the danger ever present. That’s why the legendary gay bars, like Stonewall, came to be. Queer people needed a space where they could just be. Stonewall Inn’s patrons famously fought back against police harassment in the 1969 Stonewall Uprising, a pivotal moment in the LGBTQ+ rights movement. At the end of the day, they weren’t just places to drink and socialize but where information was passed, where we found our chosen family, and where you could hold your partner’s hand fearlessly. Once upon a time, the only place for same sex PDA.

In researching the upcoming 1990s-set mystery series Fantabulous!, I was surprised to learn that Roosterfish, a queer bar I visited while living in Marina Del Rey at the time, opened in 1979. A forty-minute drive away, West Hollywood’s oldest gay bar was Mother Lode, also opened in 1979. While Weho’s LGBTQ+ community extended beyond the bars, including bookstores, coffee shops and community centers, all providing access to queer books, support, and history, 1979 Venice was not the artistic, touristy Venice of the nineties or today. As their history states, crime, drugs, and violence plagued Abbot Kinney. I can only imagine what a lifeline the queer bar was if you lived on their side of town. Back then, I had no idea just how important Roosterfish or any of the queer bars I frequented as a newly out gay man were in the fight just to exist, to love, and yes, laugh. So, the more things change…

We Still Need Queer Sanctuaries!

Just because we can get married now doesn’t mean everything is better. Yes, the LGBTQ+ community has had many victories we can be proud of. The history of queer people has always been about celebrating the victories, but we’ve learned, through just as many heartbreaking experiences, we never get to sit out. Today, 2025…they’re still banning books with LGBTQ+ characters…they’re still threatening marriage equality…they’re still disrupting plans for June Pride…

We still need our queer sanctuaries to be there. Whether it’s a welcoming historic hotel like the Hotel Cairo or the fabulous gay bar called (what else) Fantabulous! (coming soon in my next series!), safe spaces for the LGBTQ+community remain so incredibly important. They can be a neighborhood comunity center, an online group, or a messenger chat with the queer folks and allies you know–it’s key to our well-being and survival in a good deal of ways:

Find folks like us and form a chosen family.

Feel safe in being you and loving you.

Find essential resources and support.

To just relax, exist, and express without hiding or editing.

To embrace queer history: hard-won victories, heartbreaking failures, to just breathe in the courage of the past, to fight for the future

“This is my mommy, Pearl Aguilar, and her fiancée, Galatea Ellis,” Rosa proudly announced her parents. Straight away, Pearl Aguilar chuckled in an ear-splitting but terrific manner that froze Hughie in his tracks. “Excuse my excitement, Mr. Roman. Rosie gave me your autograph, but I didn’t think I’d ever end up meeting you before you went back to Hollywood. To think I met both Richard Hunter and Toby Hunter from Autumn of My Discontent. Today is my dream come true.” “Don’t forget you’re marrying the love of your life today too.” Gal sweated. “Forgive me, honeybunch, but Richard Hunter has been my crush since he arrived in Autumn Valley, seeking revenge on his ex-lover Kendra Kane.” “Rosa mentioned you’re an Autumn fan,” Hughie said. “I was a fan. I was furious when you went into a coma after your ex-wife shot you. I was hoping you’d wake up. If only she didn’t sleep with your doctor, so he’d pull the plug. I thought you at least deserved to win an Emmy for your last scene.” “Richard Hunter’s life sounds just as screwed up as ours.” Fabian grinned at Hughie. “That scene had me bawling. I almost threw the remote at the TV when they pulled the plug and the monitors went—” Pearl mimicked small beeps that lead up to a long, continuous one. “Can I hug you, Mr. Roman?” “Please, call me Hughie.” Hughie leaned down so she could give him a protective bear hug. “We’re family now.”

Pride is About Sanctuary Too

As we continue our Pride Prep, we can’t forget that raising our rainbow flags, gathering for the parades, and celebrating who we are as a queer whole and as LGBTQ+ individuals, is very much sanctuary too. Gay Pride has its own epic history I’ll save for a post next month. It commemorates the Stonewall Uprising but has become so much more worldwide (like I said, epic). Late nineties me first celebrated it in West Hollywood, so proud to be finally out and with my LA community. 2025+ me feels the same love on a grander, GLOBAL scale via social media.

The spirit of Fabian’s “Love is Welcome” campaign is the spirit of Pride. Every day, I write and hope to share another story, I go all out (pun intended) to capture the same spirit, including the blog post you’re reading here on GaryAlanHidalgo.com.

Let’s Keep Prepping!

June’s around the corner! Help relaunch The Hotel Cairo by reading it in time for Pride. If you enjoyed it, leave a review. If you had problems with it, I’d love to hear that too. Lets keep the momentum going:

Reflect: What spaces have become sanctuaries in your life? Share in the comments!

Sign-Up! My blog is only a taste of the LGBTQ+ content here. Get free online works, including deleted materials and new short stories direct to your inbox.

Follow Along: I’m on Facebook, Instagram, and Bluesky where we can continue the conversation. It’s like a 24/7 Pride celebration!

And Next Week? We’ll wrap up the Pride Prep series by talking about why we need “Love & Laughter” especially during tough times. Blog Post #1, I hardly knew thee. Are we really at #4 next week? Stay tuned!

Salamat/Thanks for being a part of this community, a virtual sanctuary we’re building together. Know that Love IS welcome here!

Love & Laughter,

Gary Alan Hidalgo

[garyalanhidalgo]

Pride Prep: Still Got It! Age, Love, & The Hotel Cairo

Again, Spoilers Ahead! I don’t give away the big plot twists like Fabian being exposed as a Brony, but I reference character backstories, some plot developments, and assorted themes from The Hotel Cairo to investigate this week’s topic. It’s your last warning. I respect your choice to stay a Hotel Cairo virgin. After all, you can only be that once!

Kamusta again, fabulous readers!

First, the most telling quote from The Hotel Cairo to set the tone:

“Spit it out, Lawson. Is it because I turned sixty?”

Welcome back to Week #2 of our May Pride Month Prep series! Last week we had a fabulous discussion about soap operas and their deeply tangled love affair with LGBTQ+ history. Talk about so much drama, right?! This week, we’re putting on our bi-focal reading glasses and grabbing our poison of choice (coffee for me) to tackle another juicy topic that hits close to home for many Generation Xers like me. To top it off, if the character you’ve played on Autumn of My Discontent since the mid-nineties becomes dead DEAD again–yeah, it’s a soap–just as you turn sixty, you could be a victim, both on and off screen, of ageism.

How does the script play out in the sparkly yet cutthroat world of Hollywoof? We’ll see it from recently fired soap actor Hughie Roman’s POV, who Autumn fans watched flatline after being comatose and on a respirator for months. He was nominated for a Daytime Emmy but lost. Chewed up and spat out by an industry he’s devoted half his life to. Because Hughie just turned sixty, he naturally blames his age. Will it prove a barrier to his Hollywood dreams? That’s what the above quote is actually about. If you’re a queer man of a certain vintage, you might be likewise worried how your age intersects with the quest for love and relevance. So, who better to be our reluctant poster boy for our dive into ageism than the eternally dramatic Hughie. Just this year alone, he’s become a gay divorcee, a sacked soap star, and in the opening chapter of The Hotel Cairo found out it all connected. A conspiracy disgusting enough to make you…something cake-related (and let's just say, it involves a public meltdown!).

Speaking of cake, don’t forget, sweeties, The Hotel Cairo and GaryAlanHidalgo.com are both celebrating our relaunches this June for Pride Month! Stay tuned!

"Is it because I turned sixty?" – The Agony of the Aging Actor

Picture it… Channeling the Golden Girls’ Sophia Petrillo, who, unlike our hero, Hughie Roman, aged with a sense of humor. After thirty years pouring his heart and soul into Autumn of My Discontent, he finds himself unceremoniously dumped. The role that defined him? Gone. His personal life? A can’t miss pity party. After working non-stop for three decades as only soap actors can, surely this thespian will work again? Well, his own agent hasn’t returned his many, many…many calls.

In one particularly telling (and, if I do say so myself, rather poignant) scene from The Hotel Cairo, when Hughie’s agent, Lawson, does finally call back, it’s just to remind him of his dwindling prospects.

“Spit it out, Lawson. Is it because I turned sixty?” “No. You know it’s never been about that. There was even a call from CBS for a prime-time family legal drama they thought you’d be perfect for. They’re taping a pilot soon.” “Fuck!” Hughie salivated over the prospect of a prime-time show he could devote himself to. If it became a hit and ran the one hundred episodes or more into syndication, then he’d be secure for the rest of his life. Angela Lansbury did it at fifty-nine with Murder She Wrote, Andy Griffith at sixty with Matlock, and Dick Van Dyke at sixty-eight with Diagnosis Murder. Hughie Roman could do it at sixty-five … sixty—whatever the name of the show was. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Law. You’ll always be the greatest agent of all time. I’ll send you one of the most expensive gift baskets you’ve ever received.” “I’ll be completely honest with you.” He exhaled. “They can overlook your behavior at the rival network’s party, especially setting a beloved TV priest on fire, but Practice Makes Perfect, that’s the name of the show, centers on a father and son law practice. With all the gossip about you sleeping with your last TV relative, they pulled their request immediately.” “That thing?” He dismissed the network’s concerns. “It’ll blow over, eventually. There’s always a bigger and better scandal coming soon. Is this because Herbie and I are openly gay or our age difference?” “It’s not always about that. It just wouldn’t give a show that they have high hopes will be the next Matlock or Diagnosis Murder the best start. Why don’t you extend your vacation a little longer? Come back a new man. When the time’s right, I can see about booking you a hemorrhoid commercial. It’s the same casting director who’s a Dick Hunter fan.”

Ouch, correct? Even as Lawson attempts to soften the blow by blaming Hughie’s “scandal” (why Little Herbie?), the subtext is loud and clear. In Hollywoof, growing old is a career death sentence. We’re not left in a soap opera cliffhanger there. And for an openly gay actor whose so-called indiscretion involves his thirty-year-old TV nephew–yes, another man–the collision of ageism, homophobia, and panic over “bad optics,” becomes Hughie Roman’s real-life Autumn of My Discontent when even playing a sixty-something TV lawyer becomes out of reach. FYI, a first draft of The Hotel Cairo was written circa 2021 long before Kathy Bates’ successful 2024 revival of Matlock with a gender flip. I’m certain Hughie today would claim that was the one that got away too. At least, he has the parting gift of a potential hemorrhoid commercial. So glamorous!

It’s time to take a step back. The desperation Hughie feels…is inescapable. He recites the names of actors over sixty who did succeed like a prayer to ward off bad luck. Angela…Andy…Dick… After all, he’s already drowned at this disastrous Emmy after-party where the following internal monologue bares a man grappling with more than losing an award:

Not only did Hughie Roman have a date with the open bar, but he had one ending scene to perform for the Autumn of My Discontent producers. After almost thirty years of unwavering loyalty, Richard Hunter and Hughie Roman had deserved more than the unceremonious send-off without so much as a scrap of dialogue or discernible facial expression. The industry and TV viewers should have seen him act up a storm and unequivocally know that Hughie Roman was a brilliant actor whose career was on the rise.  Even if resurrections were par for the course in a soap opera, when all was said and done, the powers that be remained adamant: “Hughie Roman, you’ve been more trouble than you’re worth.” Tonight, he would teach them to use such an auspicious actor as nothing more than a prop on what was to be his final, final death. He swore he’d continue the vicious cycle tonight—all at their expense.

The "Best Before" Date: A Queer Conundrum?

While Hughie’s meltdown is unfolding at one of Hollywoof’s glitterati-only events, the theme of ageism hits the LGBTQ+ community even harder. I know, we’re supposed to be inclusive and all, but let’s get real. Gay men, in particular, consider themselves over the hill when they hit thirty. I know, at twenty nine, I started buying beauty products that were anti-everything from eye bags to hair loss, promising to stave off the curse of the big 3-0. I couldn’t imagine turning fifty-four, like I am this year, much more turning Hughie's age of sixty (or the whole disabled thing I’ll tackle someday). For gay guys, the pressure to stay forever young and beautiful is intensely internal and societal. For better or worse, it’s ingrained in us to chase an ideal that’s realistically unattainable. Not now when twenty five years have passed since the 2000s, thirty-five since the 1990s, etc. We’re old! You’re as young as you feel. We’re less desirable! Beauty is in the eye… I’m throwing out cliches but they come with plenty of home truths. Queers should know the song I Am What I Am by heart. It’s a global gay anthem by the marvelous Gloria Gaynor, but originally sung in the eighties musical La Cage aux Folles (read on for a special treat). Whichever version you prefer, the song should be as self-accepting, authentic, and more importantly, unapologetic now as then. Do we still have “it”?

YES, YOU DO!

I shout that with all the Love & Laughter in my soul.

My personal motto is more than a cute tagline at the end of this post. It’s a mindset that arrived while writing The Hotel Cairo in 2021 and remained rewriting it in 2022, editing it in 2023, taking a break in 2024, and relaunching it this June. In all its incarnations, The Hotel Cairo has always been my love letter to that very idea. I dedicate it to everyone still waiting for your one true love, no matter how old or disillusioned you get. Love is just around the next corner even if it’s the quaint B&B that you’ve never visited with its leaky rooftops and wacky, LGBTQ+ staff. Your toe-curling, heart-stopping, and LMFAO romance will be waiting whether you’re forty like Fabian or sixty like Hughie. Yes, you can reboot yourself when life throws you tomatoes (and a flaming TV priest). And yes, you unequivocally and absolutely STILL GOT IT!

That comes with a lot of power. The joy and heartache of finding love and purpose aren’t exclusive to the under-30s. The experiences, including the scars, smarts, and even, cultivated cynicism earned over the decades? It isn’t baggage, sweetie. It’s flavor! It’s the spice that makes our own stories more sumptuous, more complex, and frankly, a lot more fun. Hughie Roman, for all his flaws and epic meltdowns, is on a journey to rediscover that even if he trips into too many scandals (and perhaps a cutie-pie hotel manager) along the way.

“My mortgage is due next week, and I have nothing left to sell. Except for my shares. I can’t lose my house too.” “I’m not asking you to do that,” he assured him. “I know by early next year, the hotel will be profitable. So not only can you pay off your debts, but you’ll have additional dividends by holding onto your fifty percent.” From only a couple of feet away, Hughie tried to avoid Fabian’s gaze and the boundless hope in his eyes that assured him without words, it would be okay. As if his optimism were enough to assure him of the future, he just described. Fabian searched his face, perhaps looking for reassurance as well. Hughie was certain all he’d find was his loneliness and desperation. Fabian then looked down as his hands quivered. He then surprised him and took his nervous hands in his. Their warmth soothed Hughie as he clasped tighter. Fabian slowly raised his head and asked, “Wouldn’t it be nice?” Excited by his touch, Hughie said, “That would be nice.” Confident this was indeed what he’d longed for, Hughie leaned in for a kiss he’d so far only dreamed of.

Keep Prepping for Pride! Let's Talk About It!

Discussing difficult themes like ageism, especially since it’s so intrinsically linked with our queer identities and our shared history is essential. Because our stories are diverse and complex, they deserve to be shared at every age and every stage.

We’ve come to the end of Blog #2 and survived. Let’s keep the conversation going as we prepare for June Pride and the epic relaunches of The Hotel Cairo and the refreshed GaryAlanHidalgo.com.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on ageism in Hollywoof or the LGBTQ+ community. Have you witnessed it? Felt it? Share your stories in the comments below or on social media!

Sign Up for the Newsletter: Get all the relaunch updates first! Plus, you’ll get exclusive content, like deleted material, short stories, etc. delivered straight to your inbox!

Follow on Social Media: Catch regular updates, teasers, and more Pride Prep! I’m on Facebook, Instagram, and BlueSky.

Next Week’s Topic: We’ll dive into the crucial role of Queer Sanctuaries–those safe spaces where “Love Is Welcome,” inspired by the Hotel Cairo itself and the upcoming Fantabulous! 

I appreciate spending time with you! As we await 2025 Pride, remember your age is a number. Love, laughter, and a damn good story? Those are timeless.

Love & Laughter,

Gary Alan Hidalgo

[garyalanhidalgo]

Let’s Prep for 2025 Pride: Soap Dish, LGBTQ+ History, and A New Queer Universe!

Spoilers Ahead! This inaugural post references a few character revelations and themes from The Hotel Cairo connected to LGBTQ+ history and the wonderful world of soaps. While I won’t spoil major plot twists like Hughie Roman’s middle name being “Dolly,” you are gently forewarned if you prefer to check into The Hotel Cairo a virgin.

Kamusta, fabulous readers, and welcome to GaryAlanHidalgo.com!

Say hello to May. Can you feel it? June is almost here, and the countdown to Pride Month has officially begun!

Are you loading up your glitter cannons? Curating your Pride playlists? As for me, this month, I’m getting ready to share our stories, celebrate our history, and connect to our colorful community throughout June. You’re invited to join me as your official Pride Month Prep hub!

And as we gear up for June 1, fabulous readers, I have some amazing announcements for you!

Get Ready for June Double Trouble!

Of course, only the fab kind of complications! So, mark your calendars with not one but two epic relaunches:

This Website! GaryAlanHidalgo.com is getting a content refresh. My goal is to do more than sell you my books. I’ll also unpack the treasure-trove of history and profound LGBTQ+ stories behind my creations. My vision is to build a genuine community of champions for visibility and positivity. Hence, I’ve adopted the motto Love & Laughter for my reenergized hub. Much like the eponymous Fantabulous! series, I wish for GaryAlanHidalgo.com to be a dazzling, lively, and safe space–our space!

The Hotel Cairo Reopens! Hughie, Fabian, and The Hotel Cairo’s lovable, queer staff invites everyone to check back into my cozy gay romcom. Ready to revisit fired soap star Hughie Roman and the undeniably charming hotel manager, Fabian Flores, his frequent nemesis and future lover-to-be? They’ll teach you to welcome love no matter how old or disillusioned you feel. Swoon-worthy, LMFAO fun is waiting for you now with a complimentary book club guide perfect for June!

As the Queer World Turns: Soap Operas, Our History, and Autumn of My Discontent

The Hotel Cairo’s Hughie Roman spending or, in his words, wasting thirty years on the fictional soap Autumn of My Discontent wasn’t just a random plot point. It was the building block to a much larger and queerer universe I’m building!

Harken back to the eighties when American soap operas were king. Daytime programs were bona fide appointment TV, especially to students like me and working moms like mine who worked graveyard shifts. Mom always woke up for The Young and the Restless. I rushed home from school for Santa Barbara, a new soap. Of course, thirty million guests watched Luke and Laura’s wedding on General Hospital.

Soaps were more than TV shows. They became cultural touchstones where the worlds of theatrical talents, primetime players, and future movie stars, including Meg Ryan (As the World Turns), sprang. And for queer folks? We were a complicated mirror to our favorite soaps. Sure, Dynasty had Steven Carrington who we sometimes cheered but often jeered–worthy of a future blog post series all his own. Long before primetime dared, The Young and the Restless’ Katherine Chancellor, played by the legendary Jeanne Cooper, pined for Joann Curtis in 1977 while GH tackled the AIDS crisis starting in 1994. I got hooked on One Life to Live because of its campiness during the eighties, such as its underground city Eterna storyline, but by the early nineties, I was riveted by Billy Douglas’, played by future movie star Ryan Phillippe, coming out. I wouldn’t officially come out of the closet until the late nineties but Billy’s storyline gave me much food for thought. Only now in 2025, have I learned then head writer, Michael Malone, wished to use legacy character, Joey, to tell the story, but the Powers That Be refused a character from the main Lord-Buchanan family to be gay. Imperfect? Yes. Visible? YES! 

This rich, intricate history of daytime drama is why I created Autumn of Discontent as the cornerstone for my own queer universe. I was inspired by real life soap Guiding Light, which began on radio in 1937, overlapped/switched to TV around 1952, and ended after seventy-two years in 2009. Autumn spans generations as well!

And here’s the epic part: Just as Guiding Light mirrored American life through changing times from radio to TV to, well, bye-bye, Autumn of My Discontent serves as the roots for many of my future LGBTQ+ stories. I’ve already planted the seeds of this new, queer universe in The Hotel Cairo. My upcoming mystery series Fantabulous! set in a nineties Venice, CA gay bar also connects closely with Autumn. As you can see, I plan to use the soap’s drama-filled history on and off the screen. This makes it a constant whatever era of LGBTQ+ history I’m referencing, even if the queer character is a 1930s radio listener. Nothing could be more appropriate or fun than mining both our and the soap’s history to explore the challenges and triumphs of LGBTQ+ lives through unique eras–the coded forties, the rebellious sixties, the heartbreaking eighties, the unexpected 2000s (2015 marriage equality, I’m looking at you!), and beyond. We can follow LGBTQ+ history through the sure-fire melodramatic lens of Autumn Valley’s chaotic and campy residents. What’s not to love?

The Hotel Cairo: Our First Stop in the Autumn Universe

The Hotel Cairo is your perfect start in this new queer universe built around the fictional TV show Autumn of My Discontent. The first published entry even opens smack-dab in soap territory at the Daytime Emmys where recently killed-off Hughie Roman has been ironically nominated. Think Titanic, just as tragic but career-wise, including a doomed love as he meets his nemesis/love interest, Fabian Flores, the hotel manager. Yes, Hughie encounters love and laughter, as promised, but the story doesn’t shy away from its specific historical context of its characters.

We learn of hotel founder, Leo Cicero, who fled Hollywood in the eighties at the height of his career because of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. We meet Xenia Xavier, the daughter of a conservative radio host, who signs onto a union of convenience, a lavender marriage to secure her future only to… You’ll need to read The Hotel Cairo to find out more but here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite.

“What drove Leo Cicero from an illustrious Hollywood career?” “In the 1980s, there was something worse than being gay to wreck a movie star’s career. It was being gay and HIV positive. Leo was diagnosed with HIV in 1984, a few months after he’d won his first Oscar. It’d been only three years after the first cases of HIV in the United States and one year after they identified HIV caused AIDS.” Hughie was in tears at the revelation. “Poor Leo.” “Only in hindsight did Leo realize he was one of the few lucky ones. He had HIV, but it never developed into full-blown AIDS during a time when there was no treatment. After he was diagnosed, Leo didn’t know how long he had to live. Worse, he knew it was a matter of time before someone found out. He left the industry because he expected to die sooner than later and wanted to preserve his sweet but short legacy as an actor.”

By sprinkling these historical truths into a romcom narrative honors the courage of those who lived it.

After decades as a soap heartthrob, Hughie Roman, is backstabbed by an industry he stayed loyal to. Worse, a job he loved. We likewise explore ageism whether it’s youth-obsessed Hollywoof or similarly perfection-obsessed gay society. Celebrating sixty, Hughie is not today’s typical gay romance hero. Neither is his love interest, Fabian Flores, who, at forty-two years old, officially classifies this a mature romance. It only adds another layer in the search for love and relevance as soon-to-be senior citizens, some sooner than others.

Fabian steered them to an even more antiquated section of town. At the turn, they had to wait for a green light, which made for an awkward silence.  “I hope I’m not getting too personal,” Fabian said. “Why did you sleep with that kid who’s all over social media? Were you drunk?” “I can’t blame it all on alcohol, although it made it easier. That night, I also lost my last chance to win an Emmy to validate the three decades I wasted on Autumn. I already lost my job. Couldn’t they give me one win? Guess it was Hollywood’s way of saying—you’re sixty, stop dreaming.” “I’m sorry you had to go through that. No wonder you looked for something … someone … to cling onto.” For once, they were actually talking on the level, like old friends. “Considering I’ve known him since he was nineteen, I wasn’t in my right mind even if it was the distraction I sorely needed. It’s also for the best that I cut myself off from the Hotel Cairo before my reputation hurts you.” “It’s that bad?” Fabian asked, concerned for a good reason. “Herbie is twenty-nine. He’s hardly a kid. I suppose Herbie needed a boost for his social media following only unfavorable publicity brings about.”

Ready For Our Close-Up!

This first week barely sets the stage for three more weeks of exploring the history and themes that make these LGBTQ+ stories tick. Officially join the Pride Prep!

Sign Up for the Newsletter: Be the first to know about my books (Fantabulous!, for instance) and other news. You’ll get free exclusive content, such as deleted material, short stories, etc. delivered straight to your inbox!

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Check Back Here: I have more Pride Prep blog posts to inform, entertain, and connect. Next Monday: Ageism in Hollywoof and beyond!

This month, let’s do our best to honor our past, celebrate our present, and fight for our fabulous future. June Pride is a big part of it!

Love & Laughter,

Gary Alan Hidalgo

[garyalanhidalgo]

Book Club Guide for The Hotel Cairo

Thank you for picking up my romantic comedy novel The Hotel Cairo (THC). My fondest wish is that you read it (first rule of a book club), enjoy it, and laugh a couple, throuple, or more times. I hope you feel the message to welcome love… period… full-stop… whatever idiom you identify with. This handy dandy guide is to kick off your THC book club party quickly with some ready-to-go discussion questions.

Times are undeniably tough for LGBTQ+ and our allies. Still, it's an ideal time to read and discuss queer books to entertain and enlighten.

Suggested Discussion Questions

Plot

What scene or event would you want to be at? Why?

What was your least favorite scene/event in the book? Why?

What plot twist didn’t you expect or saw coming a million miles away?

What scenes/events did the writer foreshadow? How?

THC is a 343-page LGBTQ+ romantic comedy. Did you speed-read to the conclusion or let it simmer like how you glare at your current crush?

Characters

If you could go out to a gay bar with one character, who would you ask? Why?

Which character was most like you? Why?

Which romantic pairing did you root for most? Why?

Which romantic pairing do you feel wouldn’t work at all? Why?

If THC were a soap opera, which love story intertwined with the Hotel Cairo would you want to see?

If THC were a movie, who would you cast?

Themes

How do you feel about the book’s original title Love’s Not Welcome at the Hotel Cairo (LNWATHC)?

How does it relate to the overall plot and theme of the book?

What do you think is the overall theme of the book, if any?

What are some additional themes of the book? How do they relate to subplots in the story?

Was THC thought-provoking at all? Did it teach you to look at certain kinds of love in another way? Did it inspire you to change your own definition of love?

What did the shorter THC title lose or gain? Should it have stuck to LNWATHC?

Setting

Which location in the book was the most memorable? Why?

Which location in the Hotel Cairo or anywhere in the book would you want to see in real life?

Which department would you enjoy working in? Why?

Which setting description came alive the best? How?

How do you feel about the world in the book? Are there other locations that would have fit the story?

Point of View and Narration

THC is told through Hughie Roman and Fabian Flores’ point of view, but if you could see the story from another POV, whose would it be? Why?

How original is this book in the gay romance market? What makes it unique?

What tropes does THC cover in the LGBTQ+ romance genre and the romance genre in general?

Did you feel that Hughie and Fabian indeed had peculiar POVs or were undistinguishable?

Did their motivations play out clearly in the narrative?

Backstory/Timeline

Did Hughie and Fabian’s backstory adequately set up the plot of the book or logically tie up its loose ends?

What backstory would you have wanted to witness first-hand? Why?

Was the timeframe of the book easy to jump into?

Where would you have preferred to start Hughie and Fabian’s love story?

How else would you rearrange the timeline? What would be fun scenes/events to add?

Foreshadowing

Were you able to guess the ending? How?

Would it have been more satisfying not to end the way it did? How would you end it?

Does the first scene/chapter foreshadow the last?

Humor

Which events/scenes did you LOL, LMAO, and ROFL (in order of humor)?

What is your favorite quote from THC? Why is it your favorite?

What other songs would you add to a THC playlist, aside from the ones mentioned in the book?

Did the book cover properly capture the feel of the story?

Did parts of the story seem unbelievable and done for humor?

Metaphor

Could you identify the symbolism present in the story? If you did, what message do you feel was trying to be sent?

What do you feel is the unifying metaphor of THC?

How does it play out throughout the plot, character, and setting?

LGBTQ+ Context

What LGBTQ+ social issues did THC touch? What broader social concerns did it touch?

What LGBTQ+ historical and cultural references were made in the book? Which did you want to read more about?

What LGBTQ+ social issues or historical and cultural references resonate with you the best?

What was the author’s purpose in writing The Hotel Cairo?

How do you feel about that purpose?

If you have further THC questions, please post them on this website. I’ll try to answer them when I get the chance or write a future post inspired by your question.

Hope you had a blast with your book club. Thanks again!

❤️ 🌈 Gary

[garyalanhidalgo]

3. The Hotel Cairo Is Private Property

Who knew Hughie Roman would be grateful to this Fabian person after ignoring his calls many times over the past two months? Accepting the Acting Manager’s invitation sounded like a long overdue holiday, but taking a rideshare to the Hotel Cairo was anything but. It truly was an act of desperation. 

He opened the passenger door of the black circa 1990s Jetta, and a cloud mushroomed off it from the thick layer of dust that camouflaged its countless scratches, dents, and bald spots.

“Hughie Roman?” the red-haired woman at the wheel asked as she lifted her sunglasses to reveal her pale blue eyes. “I’m Rusty Fontana, your rideshare to Hannibal. I tried to run your credit card, but it got rejected.”

Hughie reached for his wallet and said, “I can give you cash. Why do you look so familiar?”

“I must have one of those faces,” she said. “You know an average Joe. I mean Josie.”

At least Rusty Fontana’s charming company made the two-day road trip from Los Angeles to Hannibal feel shorter and less repetitious than he feared. His chauffeur hesitated to share additional details about herself. To compensate, Hughie shared more than Rusty, who’d never seen his show, probably wanted to know about her outspoken passenger for the next forty-eight hours.

“Where do you want to get dropped off?” Rusty asked as they passed by trees, then more trees, followed by even more trees.

Hughie glimpsed the white and gray building with four massive pillars that made it look like, to his ex, the Pantheon, and Hughie, the White House. For once, they had both been correct. The Hotel Cairo was the premier example of Greek revival architecture that deserved to sit in Los Angeles or New York, not here in this backwater setting out of The Last Picture Show or—he choked—Deliverance.

“I’m headed there,” he pointed out the Hotel Cairo to an exasperated Rusty as they got closer to the hill it reverently crowned.

“You’re staying at the Hotel Cairo?”

“Just until next week. It’s not quite like I pictured it.” As they got closer, he identified that the stucco white was actually dirty white, and bald spots scarred the roof where some gray shingles had slid off. Sure, they were minor wear and tear, but Hughie cringed at the thought as they diminished the hotel’s face value. “It’s seen better days.”

“As someone born three decades before they built that hotel,” Rusty said, “I won’t comment. Hey, at least they have running water.”

Hughie glumly noted that the fountains spread out across the grounds that, per the agent’s vivid description, once spouted water were now used as planters for common-looking yellow flowers. He would take it up with the actual manager soon enough, not just someone acting as manager.

“Speaking of running water,” Rusty said, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Mr. Roman.

“We’ve been stuck like glue for two days. You can speak your mind freely and please call me Hughie.”

“Alright, Hughie.” Rusty fanned her nose. “You may want to freshen up once you get to your room. Sorry, but I told you to wash up at the last three gas stations.”

“I have a thing about using public bathrooms.”

Rusty pinched her nose and scrutinized him from head to toe. “While you are quite handsome in a devil may care way, you smell like a—I forgot what’s politically correct for—bum.”

“I haven’t used a public toilet since I was in high school. Even then, I detested them. Who knows what nasty diseases you’d pick up?”

“Yet you don’t have an issue with stinking up my car. Thank God I keep Pine Air Freshener handy for my riders’ enjoyment. If you could reach for it below my seat and apply it per instruction to the rear-view mirror. I’d be much obliged. And feel free to wear one. Please, I keep extras.”

Hughie did as advised to hang one in the rear-view mirror. Then he panicked as the Jetta began to pull into the hotel driveway. Before the car turned to wind its way up the hill and arrive at the main building, he abruptly hit the vehicle’s horn.

“What the fuck?” Rusty cursed, not amused by the scare he gave her.

“Can we please stop here?” he asked.

“But the hotel’s still further up. Let me drop you off at the door even if you aren’t fit to mingle with the townsfolk. Main Street locals maybe, but this hotel is a four-star establishment. They have a higher class of riffraff.”

“Ahem,” Hughie said. “It’s a five-star hotel. They have a gourmet restaurant, health club, and spa. And the only local I’m gonna mingle with is the honor bar.”

Rusty scratched her head. “If you’re not careful, those things could run up an enormous debt.”

“I meant I’ll hit up the hotel bar.” Hughie sniffed his reeking armpits as he got out of the car. “After I take a shower and change.”

Because of their abrupt stop, they currently blocked the driveway of the Hotel Cairo. As he stretched beside the Jetta, he spotted an antique white and gold Rolls Royce as it rolled down the hill at the same time. Even in car-obsessed Los Angeles, the elegant automobile would have commanded a great deal of attention. This model, a 1938 Wraith, would have particularly earned his adulation.

Its engine may have purred like a cat, but its horn trumpeted like an elephant at him as he pulled out his luggage from the trunk of the more practical Jetta. With his luggage in hand, Rusty left Hughie in the dust, frightened off by the warning.

Having expelled at least one inconvenience from its path, the Rolls prepared to mow down its remaining obstruction. Face to face with the vehicle, Hughie angrily reminded himself that it was half his property and, therefore, whoever it was inside owed him some respect. He shivered as he looked into the icy-blue pupils of the attractive, middle-aged lady with dazzling flaxen hair snug in the backseat. She scolded her chauffeur, who winked at Hughie as they flew within an inch of his life.

Narrowly missing him, Hughie waved to get their attention, but the Rolls sped off the property in a huff. The vanity plates XENIA1 glared at him as he gave the Rolls one last look. He rolled his eyes while he stifled his envy.

Hughie dragged his Louis Vuitton rolling luggage and wheeled duffle bag, both matching Monogram Canvas, up the winding road to the Hotel Cairo. Surveying the sprawling property, this had indeed been his only worthwhile investment in thirty years of get-rich-quick schemes that included the late nineties Dot-com bubble and bust and cryptocurrency, whose concept he still couldn’t understand.

It wasn’t exactly that he was trying to get rich. Thanks to Autumn of My Discontent, he was rich longer than most actors managed. But alas, he got old. Everything went downhill from there.

Hughie felt guilty for not telling Rusty the truth. He didn’t want the hotel staff or their manager to see him get dropped off in her over-the-hill Jetta. Not that it wasn’t a fuel-efficient and comfy ride, Lameo Larry would say. It just wasn’t the right fit. He may be a loser back home, but Hughie Roman wanted to arrive at his hotel as a winner even if he had to pretend that he took a limousine from the airport after flying first class, of course. Obviously, the limo had a flat tire outside the driveway, forcing him to walk the rest of the way up. 

Thank God he brought Louis Vuitton luggage. It was still the unmissable mark of a celebrity.

* * *

At the peak of the steep last length of the driveway, two men lost no time welcoming him to the Hotel Cairo.

“Hello,” Hughie said. “Which one of you is—” Before he could finish his friendly how-do-you-do, a well-dressed man with gray-green eyes immediately punched his face with wanton disregard. With that, he lost consciousness for at least a minute, in which he fantasized he cuddled an Oscar like a long-lost child.

“Whoever the man is, you should never have hit him. You’re the lawyer. You should know better.”

“What’s this drunken bum doing with expensive luggage like this? He must’ve stolen it from one of your guests.”

“Don’t call him that. It’s disparaging. He’s an unhoused person with an alcohol use disorder.”

As the Oscar tore itself away from his forlorn embrace, Hughie groaned in relief, then rubbed his left cheek. The thickness of his beard had protected his precious face from any superficial damage.

“I-I-I’m ...” he said.

“Thank God, you’re awake.” One of them kneeled to check on him. It wasn’t the man that struck him. This man had beaming brown eyes that matched his carefully tapered chestnut hair. If he wasn’t already fully awake, Hughie would’ve mistaken him for an angel shielding him from the nasty piece of work in the blue blazer. “I’m sorry, sir. The Hotel Cairo is private property and James just wanted you to go. But he should have asked and not laid a finger on you. Is your jaw okay?”

Hughie turned his head to show off his chiseled jaw. The nice man saw he was okay, sighed with relief, and caressed his cheek with tenderness.

“Fabian,” the mean man shouted. “You don’t know where he’s been.”

“Fabian Flores?” Hughie stood up.

“That’s me.”

“As I was trying to say before your security guard pummeled me without mercy, I’m Hughie Roman. We spoke last Monday.”

“I am not the security guard,” the one named James growled at him, “and you aren’t Mr. Roman. But this is probably his luggage.”

 He unzipped the leather duffel bag and dumped its contents on the ground before Hughie or Fabian could protest.

“James, please stop,” Fabian said to his crazed co-worker. “Do you have any I.D. to prove you’re Hughie Roman?”

“Yes, I do.” Hughie reached for his wallet, but his back pocket was empty. “No, I don’t. I must’ve dropped it in the Uber.”

“You took an Uber here?” Fabian asked. He crouched on the ground and scooped up Hughie’s belongings.

Hughie saw a familiar wine-colored envelope sticking out among his unmentionables. He grabbed it and presented it to Fabian.

The hotel manager’s eyes dilated. “It’s our seal, and it’s sent courtesy of Carraway & Sons.”

“I still don’t believe him.” The man named James would’ve been handsome even by Hollywood’s lofty standards had he not had a disagreeable scowl. “He looks and smells putrid. Hughie Roman is a wealthy television star. Surely, he would’ve showered and dressed up before he checked into his hotel.”

James took the envelope from Fabian and pulled out the thick packet of papers inside. Finally, identifying an unmistakable sign made him laugh hysterically.

“What is it?” Fabian asked.

“It’s my father’s signature.”

“Now, do you believe him?” Fabian said like he definitely knew Hughie had told them the truth.

He caught the thoughtful hotel manager staring at him from time to time. Why was he so obsessed with his face long after he brushed his cheek while he’d been on the ground? Now that Hughie was on his feet again, Fabian studied his face even more conspicuously. It was as if he looked more familiar now that gravity hadn’t flattened his features out of proportion. Who did he see in those stolen glances?

Hughie’s mind raced as he heard James call someone on his phone. “Sheriff Holden, we have a criminal element at the Hotel Cairo.”

After a forty-eight-hour trip, being knocked unconscious upon arriving, and having his clothes scattered across the driveway, Hughie was out of steam.

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[garyalanhidalgo]

2. The Opposite Side of the World

“Please don’t let today be the day the roof caves in.”

As if to wake the dead, Fabian Flores banged his head on the indestructible birch desk so it drowned out the kerplunk of the early May drizzle hitting the Hotel Cairo’s roof. A couple of months ago, as the night front desk manager, he would have welcomed the sound as a treat, relaxing him as he waited for his shift to end, especially on Friday nights when he often faked a welcoming smile for the late check-ins, usually there for a romantic getaway. He envied those kinds of guests who packed light and carried their own overnight bags, even if the porters complained about missing tips. Tonight, as he sat in a relatively dry office, two months into his promotion, the Hotel Cairo’s Managing Director received it as a threat. He wished the Grand Old Lady of the state’s famous Cherry Hills could wait a few more months of patch-up jobs while they brought back her old strength.

Fabian sat at the desk for an hour, ignoring that his neck stiffened and legs cramped, engrossed by what he read and reread in the well-loved journal he’d just luckily found behind the bookshelf.

The Hotel Cairo’s founder dated the first page, May 6, 2016, then faithfully updated his thoughts up to 2020, when Mr. Cicero’s health took a turn for the worse. Fabian wished he had known Mr. Cicero longer, but he had only been working there less than a year before he died. Hard to believe that was almost three years ago.

Leo planned to expand their wedding services from hosting the usual one or two weddings a month like they had revolutionized their business conference bookings from an “upon request” service to daily conferences and even business retreats on the weekends. If the majestic Cherry Hills that surrounded them got by for business events, they offered an even more sumptuous setting for exchanging vows, especially in the Age of Social Media.

“What has you so bewitched?” James Carraway’s eloquent voice asked from behind the papers. “I just got done meeting with Xenia. I’m supposed to ask if you’ve contacted Hughie Roman before I send a private investigator after him. She’s eager to get him here to discuss several matters.”

The Hotel Cairo’s lawyer mumbled the last word. Fabian didn’t mind that one matter they had to decide was whether to keep him officially as Managing Director or put out feelers for a permanent one.

James asked the inattentive hotel manager, “How can you decipher those ancient hieroglyphs?”

“Because they’re Leo Cicero’s chicken scratch.” He stashed the book in a drawer.

He finally looked eye to eye with their hotel lawyer. James had gray-green eyes that didn’t blink as they stared back at him. His dark blond hair and five o’clock scruff contrasted with the powder blue linen suit and immaculate white shirt he wore. Fabian noticed he had the same style of blazer and pants in five other colors. Their tailored fit construction showed off James’ lean, muscular build.

Fabian couldn’t remember how long he had been staring. He swung his chair to face the window, away from the lawyer’s view. Did James notice him staring? Did he drool? He swabbed his fingers around his mouth, then looked at his reflection in the office’s only window, which had steamed up so he couldn’t see outside. Checking out his own reflection in the glass, James Carraway met the hotel manager’s deer-in-the-headlights gaze with a bright, flattered smile.

“How did someone like Mr. Roman end up with fifty percent of the Hotel Cairo?” Fabian asked, pretending not to notice his scrutiny. He gulped in desperation and spun his chair back to face James again, thankful the lawyer didn’t let on something was amiss. As a lawyer, James was, he assumed, skilled at faking his emotions.

“You know those Hollywood types. They have to spend their money on something big to brag about. It doesn’t get bigger than a forty-acre estate with a mansion.”

“But he lives and works on the opposite side of the world. Couldn’t he sink his millions into something closer that he could check on?”

“That’s right.” James rested his elbows, then head on the other side of the desk, gawking at Fabian. “Mr. Roman’s never been here. He bought the shares right after Leo passed away. Mr. Cicero left it in his will to sell half the hotel shares as a nest egg to pay for any future improvements.”

“I guess I should know that,” Fabian said, disappointed he hadn’t sought the information before. He should have familiarized himself with all three of the owners, even if Mr. Roman was an undependable no-show.

“I can fill you in on all the complexities of the hotel’s legal history,” James said, sitting back and fooling around with his tie as if the temperature had gone up. “Maybe you want to put a pause on filing? Is that what you’re doing? Why don’t we go for a drink instead?”

James was attractive and helpful, but Fabian drove himself to be discreet, not just because they were co-workers, but because he had more serious issues he needed to worry about.

“A drink?” he asked.

“Relax.” James picked up on his unwillingness. “It’s a business invitation. Is Rosewood Bar neutral enough for you?”

“You’re right. I need a drink.” Fabian changed his mind to James’ relief. “Do you mind me asking how old you are?”

“Forty,” James said. “Am I age-appropriate enough for a friendly drink?”

Fabian got out of his chair and put on his burgundy blazer with the prominent “T-H-C” in gold stitching. He was warming up to the idea of one drink with a coworker, but prayed it wouldn’t worsen into anything else the way things often did after a couple of drinks.

One undeniable benefit of no longer working the graveyard shift was not being asleep at home while the rainbow-colored sunset of the Cherry Hills unfolded outside the Hotel Cairo. Fabian had seen nothing so magical, as if Mother Nature had woven every color into the sky over the misty peaks that dotted the horizon.

“This is the first time I’ve been here at this hour.” He saw guests already entranced by the unmissable view while they enjoyed their drinks on the terrace or inside with them. “No wonder the bar still does so well.”

“I forget.” James led them to the bar, where they perched side by side on comfy bar stools. “As a night manager, you wouldn’t be here until midnight.”

“I’d also be stuck between the front desk and Mr. Cicero’s office unless there was an emergency at another part of the hotel,” Fabian said, as the lights and colors coming in from outside and filling the room overwhelmed him. At a baby grand piano tucked away in a corner, their regular pianist played a dazzling melody to accompany the enchanting time of day. “I actually shouldn’t give myself so much slack now,”

“Do I need to remind you to relax? Even Mr. Cicero would join us here for a drink after we concluded business for the day. He’d always boast about this peculiar view from the terrace, especially during sunset. That God created it for lovers.”

“I never thought it would be so incredible.” Fabian was dumbfounded by the specific words James used, not because he’d read it in Leo’s notes, but because James’ glances and grins lingered a little longer on him.

James nodded at the bartender after she had finished serving the guests who had just come in. Fabian’s face went from a little boy seeing his gifts on Christmas morning to the little boy who broke his mama’s favorite vase. The bartender rested a shiny silver bucket packed with ice and a bottle of champagne sitting inside, waiting to be uncorked.

“We didn’t order this,” Fabian said as the bartender turned to James for further instructions.

“Don’t worry.” James raised his hand and signaled the bartender to go ahead. “I arranged it earlier. A late toast to your promotion. Trust me, it won’t be a human resource issue.” His companion’s legal assurance had somewhat won over Fabian as he started to unwind. There was still something despite James’ adoring expression coupled with the room’s radiance that alarmed him. Maybe love wasn’t for everyone—especially not him.

Before he could refuse, the champagne flowed without caution into two exquisite flutes. The shimmering bubbles and diverting aroma tempted him before he sipped a single drop. He blamed himself for not putting an end to James’ true desire until it was too late. “If you say so.”

“I say so,” James said as he presented a full glass to Fabian and raised the other.

“Well, you aren’t my boss,” Fabian said. It was too late. He already tasted the connection he’d tested. It was something he hadn’t felt in forever.

“And you aren’t my boss.” James pinged his glass on Fabian’s. “Anyway, here’s to your promotion as the Hotel Cairo’s Managing Director.”

“Acting Managing Director.” Fabian tapped James’ glass back and sipped with diligence.

“Semantics,” James assured him. “Leo was fond of you and his ex-wife, who seems to be the only partner still interested in the hotel, handpicked you. It was a shame the hotel had to suffer under what’s his name for three years.”

“Mr. January was a nice man.” Fabian sought to be diplomatic. “He took care of business as usual, but not the hotel’s long-term prospects. Since we’re talking business, I’m curious. Who do you really report to?”

Fabian often wondered about James and Xenia Xavier, who were as thick as thieves.

“The Hotel Cairo, of course,” James answered fondly.

He hadn’t quit staring at Fabian since toasting his promotion. Fabian caught him doing it in the past when he tagged along with his papa for after-hours meetings with Mr. Cicero in his office. Fabian once expected the hotel lawyer to ask him out right away. He never did.

“That’s something we have in common.” Fabian sipped a bit more champagne after James poured a second round. “Our love of the hotel.”

“Then here’s to the Grand Dame of Hannibal,” James said, “the Hotel Cairo. May your shareholders finally meet so Fabian Flores can loosen up and go on a proper date. Not that we’re on one, of course.”

Fabian smiled at James and tapped his glass once more. Its resounding hum heightened the spell he was under. He said, “I hope Mr. Roman feels the same way about his hotel, then we can all pull together and bring it back to its fairytale days.”

“Fairytale days?” James inched his barstool closer, so Fabian now inhaled his fruity, woodsy scent and looked into the depths of his vivid eyes. “Didn’t Leo say that?”

“That’s what he called his happiest times here.” Fabian checked himself. He pulled away even as his associate sidled up without regard. He had to put a stop to it now. “Thanks for the champagne, but I should get back to work. I hope to get in touch with Mr. Roman before you send a P.I. after him.”

“Alright.” The hotel lawyer’s eyes eclipsed and his smile drooped. “Please keep me updated on Hughie Roman. And Fabian?”

“I will.” Fabian stopped in his tracks at the tender way James declared his name. “Anything else?”

James paused, his voice cracking. “Promise you’ll let me take you out to dinner soon. I’d prefer to take you to my favorite restaurants in the city or even downtown Hannibal, but if 24/7 is all you can manage time-wise, I’ll take it.”

Fabian’s pulse hurried. At least he had his back to James since he sweltered as the lawyer awaited his answer. “How about dinner at 24/7 tomorrow? I planned to go over the restaurant numbers with Chef Milos. We can have dinner afterward.”

“Alright,” James yelled. “It’s a date.”

Fabian spun around, grimacing a bit.

“Business date,” James corrected himself as Fabian rushed off. He eyed the half-empty bottle of champagne sitting in front of him as if it was urging him to finish up. “Business date.”

* * *

The office door squeaked open, and Fabian half-expected Leo to greet him.

He looked at the tarnished brass wall clock with the Roman numerals hanging to the right of the desk. It would no longer be business hours on the West Coast, or evening yet. He would try to call Hughie Roman again before James sent a P.I., which might only drive him further away.

He dialed the number that after two months, he’d committed to memory. It rang six times and still no answer. Fabian was about to hang up when a distant, exhausted voice eventually answered, “Hello?”

“Mr. Roman, I’m glad I finally reached you,” Fabian blurted. He feared losing his breath before Hughie Roman finally lost interest and hung up. “This is Fabian Flores, Acting Managing Director of the Hotel Cairo.”

“Acting Managing Director? What happened to the last guy who called last year?”

“I want to invite you to attend the annual shareholders’ meeting next week.”

“Next week?” Mr. Roman sounded annoyed already. “That doesn’t give me much notice. I may have auditions booked then.”

“Sir, I’ve been trying to reach you for two months. I wanted to give you a lot of advance notice. I’ll have Redwood Lodge prepared for your stay. It’s the hotel’s largest cabin home and is reserved for the majority shareholder. In case you forgot, that’s you.”

“I haven’t forgotten I own fifty percent of the Hotel Cairo. Believe me. I haven’t forgotten. I’ve been meaning to visit your hotel, but could never find the time with my busy shooting schedule. I’ve appreciated that it’s making money and, of course, the regular dividends prove useful. However, they aren’t nearly enough for me to hold on to my shares.”

“Maybe the opportunity to triple your investment would convince you to hold on to them a little longer.” He heard the other man read off some numbers. He must’ve used his fingers and toes to do the math. 

Mr. Roman finally answered, “Triple would be nice. How long would it take? I don’t have time on my side these days, Fabio.”

“It’s Fabian,” he corrected the weary voice. “And neither do I. All I ask is that you come to the partners’ meeting so I can make my presentation in front of all the shareholders. Please.”

“So the other partners will be there.”

“There’s only three of you.”

“Would they be interested in buying my shares?”

“Why don’t you visit us first before you decide?” Without meaning to, Fabian had grasped a handful of his hair.

“Then you can ask Miss Xavier or Mr. Holden face to face if they’d be interested in increasing their ownership.”

If he hadn’t had doubts about the survival and the success of the hotel before, he had plenty of them now. Hughie Roman sounded sleepy and even broken, although it was just early evening in his time zone. Maybe he had a long day of shooting. He shouldn’t forget their majority shareholder was an actor. Maybe a successful one who was too busy to return his calls. He had to be to buy half the Hotel Cairo.

“Good idea.”

“Let’s discuss everything before you make an …” Fabian thought he had finally convinced Hughie Roman to at least give him a chance had it not been for one careless adjective. “Impulsive decision.”

“Impulsive?” The once passive voice was now full of vitality and worse, defensive. “Who says I’m making an impulsive decision? I’d like to talk to your lawyer instead of you about selling my shares then.”

“I meant to say final.” Fabian’s voice cracked as he tried to redress his incorrect choice of words. “Final decision. If I haven’t convinced you that it’ll be worth holding onto your shares, then I’ll gladly do everything to help you sell them at the best price.”

The word sell was a dagger in Fabian’s heart. He refused to even entertain the thought.

Fabian Flores prepared to fight.

“Fine. I’ll go to your shareholders’ meeting. Expect me there by the end of the week. I’d benefit from a mini-sabbatical before the shindig.”

“That sounds better, Mr. Roman.” Fabian rejoiced in the opportunity to win over Hughie Roman before he did something foolish with his shares. “I’ll email you the details.”

“You do that, Frodo.”

“Fabian.”

“I’m sorry, Fabian,” the actor said the correct name. “I’ve been trying to be better at remembering names.”

With that, Mr. Roman hung up.

There was something else about Hughie Roman and their conversation that made Fabian Flores certain Leo Cicero would have loathed the man determined to sell his legacy.

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[garyalanhidalgo]

1. The Autumn of My Discontent

The Primetime actor announced with a pause for dramatic effect, “And the Emmy for Supporting Actor in a Drama Series goes to …”

At least if it wasn’t Hughie Roman, it wouldn’t be multiple Emmy winner Herbert Peters either.

“You should’ve won,” Herbie buttered up his fellow loser, his come-hither blue-gray eyes, sensual lips, chiseled face, and James Dean hair perfection.

“No,” Hughie said. “You deserved to win. Your clip absolutely broke my heart. What episode was it from?”

“It was from your funeral,” Herbie choked up. “I mean Uncle Richard’s funeral last month.”

“I’m sure Uncle Hughie has better things to do than keep up with our show,” their co-star, Larry Mallory, cut in and affirmed his Lameo nickname well-earned. He was ever owl-like with his dark round eyes, beak nose, and unceasing hoot. “We have the same agent. You’ve surely auditioned for a bazillion gigs by now, maybe for Primetime TV shows, streaming projects, or even big-budget movies like our Little Herbie. World’s an oyster for someone as handsome and talented as Hughie Roman.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Hughie asked. Although he accused Lameo, it was Herbie’s reaction he watched out for.

When Herbie had turned a deaf ear to him and instead filmed his reaction to his first loss since time immemorial, Hughie’s chest caved in from the confusion. Had he misjudged his TV nephew’s kindness as a kinky come-on? He was even more embarrassed to admit it’d been because he found the attention of a younger queer man sexy. Someone like Herbie, who was more in his element as a gay nineteen-year-old back when they first met than Hughie had ever been in his entire life, even at sixty.

Herbie raised his iPhone and accepted his unseen audience’s condolences, well wishes for next year, and even a handful of date invitations. Hughie couldn’t help but notice his muscular arms and well-developed pectorals, which he hadn’t had when he screen-tested ten years ago for the role of Toby Hunter, Richard’s cad nephew. A fit of nostalgia came over him. Little Herbie, as the cast and crew had nicknamed him, had grown up on Autumn of My Discontent, coming out publicly not even a year later and becoming even more well-loved by soap fans thereafter. Hughie, on the other hand, was coaxed out of the closet in 2020 because his fiancé refused to marry anyone in the closet, especially someone who was, on a very, very slow news cycle, fodder for gossip, just because he was on television.

As for Larry, all of Hollywood seemed to know he was gay. He’d even been the grand marshal of the West Hollywood Gay Pride parade. Yet for such an out and proud queer person, he lived his personal life out of everyone’s scrutiny. If someone cared who Lameo had dated or was currently doing, they were left to guess.

“I’m not flirting with you,” Larry said. “I’m currently in a loving, committed relationship. I was just trying to be a pal.”

“I meant it as a joke,” he assured him. He peeked at his watch and decided the network after-party at the Beverly Hills Hotel’s Crystal Ballroom was where he should be right now. He saluted Lameo before he took off. “See you at the party. Gotta fetch the Lamborghini. Still drive a Mini Cooper?”

“Yes, a Mini Cooper Electric SE Hardtop.”

“I’ve heard of it. Rui wanted a car like that one when we were together.”

“It is a fun drive.” Larry grinned as he glanced at a message on his iPhone. “My date’s on his way to the hotel. I’ll see you there.”

“See ya,” he said, overjoyed he’d relish a brief break from the tiresome man. What desperate Yo-Yo would date Lameo? The droll answer was apparently joining them at the party.

Not only did Hughie Roman have a date with the open bar, but he had one ending scene to perform for the Autumn of My Discontent producers. After almost thirty years of unwavering loyalty, Richard Hunter and Hughie Roman had deserved more than the unceremonious send-off without so much as a scrap of dialogue or discernible facial expression. The industry and TV viewers should have seen him act up a storm and unequivocally know that Hughie Roman was a brilliant actor whose career was on the rise. 

Even if resurrections were par for the course in a soap opera, when all was said and done, the powers that be remained adamant: “Hughie Roman, you’ve been more trouble than you’re worth.” Tonight, he would teach them to use such an auspicious actor as nothing more than a prop on what was to be his final, final death. He swore he’d continue the vicious cycle tonight—all at their expense.

As he prepared to take his leave, Herbie suddenly blocked his way. He was no longer playing for his invisible audience as earlier. He had a pained expression, perhaps still about losing. Hughie’s heart went out to him. He’d felt just as heartbroken the first time he’d lost and every time after that. He couldn’t help but give his TV nephew a sympathetic hug.

“What can I say, kiddo? You’ll win it next year.”

He welcomed his reassuring hug. “I hope they figure out what a mistake it was to let you go.”

“That’s really sweet of you to say.” Hughie slapped Little Herbie’s broad back and was gobsmacked as the younger man’s rock-hard erection brushed his crotch without apology.

“I miss you so much.”

“Herbie?”

“Yes?” he said without emotion while he’d kept him hostage in the awkward embrace.

“You have a hardon.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” Herbie pulled away as his entire face turned scarlet. “I got excited when they were reading out the winner.”

“That was half an hour ago,” Hughie said as he glossed over the younger man’s excuse. “It’s alright.”

They both fumbled back even if the cringeworthy encounter seemed to have gone unnoticed in the emptying theater.

“I don’t know what to say.” Herbie was beside himself.

“Are you going to the party?” he asked and pushed aside his own undeserved guilt. “Do you need a ride?”

Before he finished his sentence, Hughie caught himself in time. To his out-and-out relief, Herbert Peters hadn’t even heard his TV uncle's offer to ride in his Lamborghini. He mused how much had changed since they met. It had always been such a treat for Little Herbie.

As he drove across town to Beverly Hills, Hughie Roman, with little deliberation, did away with calling him Little Herbie any further and all future overtures—no matter how innocent—to ride with him.

* * *

As soon as he’d arrived at the Beverly Hills Hotel, Hughie darted for the Crystal Ballroom just off the hotel’s busy lobby. An eager mash-up of local and national media mingled with the attention-hungry stars from Autumn of My Discontent and the network’s other daytime programs.

Hughie had tired of his first open bar once a reporter had requested that his TV ex-wife reenact her Emmy-winning line. Filled with gratitude, she cried her eyes out and said, “Doctor, please pull the plug.”

He would’ve scurried off somewhere less pretentious for his next drink had he not caught the familiar scent of the Ethiopian Frankincense he’d slept and awakened to for at least two years. Even now, it had filled him with hope. Understated and very personal, the rare scent was therefore out of place here among the Hollywood glitterati. He’d first breathed in that earthy bouquet of wood and citrus when he took a summer off Autumn to do theater at the Pasadena Playhouse in 2019 and fell head over heels with the play’s then forty-five-year-old co-star, Rui Mamo.

His ex-husband stormed into the noisy ballroom and searched the room for someone. He stood under the ballroom’s namesake chandelier, which had always reminded Hughie of a delightful bouquet of roses all lit up. Once he’d caught sight of the man he had once loved, he tried to wave, but his hands had gone limp. Rui was still as dashing as ever with his rich chocolate complexion and theatrical goatee. His mind raced, wondering why he was here. This would be the first time since the divorce he would see Hughie too. 

Time had stopped as Rui finally took notice, and waved and smiled at him—his eyes filled with so much love like in the good old days. He had wanted to wave back, but grabbed his martini instead and polished it off. Not that Rui Mamo was an evil ex-husband, but another drink temporarily stifled the unresolved feelings and embarrassing scenes his presence could still provoke.

He could only stare as the lanky man crossed the crowd to be with him at last. Once upon a time, he’d promised Rui that if he ever won, he’d thank him foremost for loving him. A short and simple speech that perhaps Rui still remembered. Maybe there was indeed hope that they could find their way back to each other.

His tummy fluttered at the romantic notion that tonight would not be a complete tragedy after all. If he had wanted a winning chance to get him back, he needed to get hold of himself. Hughie Roman hightailed it to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face and, after too many drinks, pee.

“Rui?” Hughie regarded him with quixotic eyes. “I’m touched that you’re here to celebrate my birthday.”

“Happy birthday. Sorry, I was busy with planning yesterday I forgot to greet you.”

“What planning?” He’d tried to act naively. “Are you going home to Africa to visit your family?”

“Not until after the—” Rui tried to answer before Larry nudged him in the ribs.

“Why’d you hit my husband? I meant ex-husband. Just because you’re helping with his birthday surprise doesn’t give you carte blanche to touch him.”

“I’m not here for your birthday,” Rui said.

“Then you’re here because you heard I lost again.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s not that either.”

Hughie had become more and more frustrated that no one was saying what he’d longed to hear. “Then why are you here?”

“Surprise,” Larry whispered.

“Surprise,” the cast and crew of Autumn of My Discontent shouted on cue while an army of servers rolled in a six-layer cake lit up by birthday candles flickering under powerful gusts from the hotel air conditioning ducts. With great care, they ground the massive cake, which accommodated ten candles per tier beside the dessert buffet.

Was this one concluding middle finger from his ex-Autumn family? Family is who you can turn to when your life is a disaster. Surely, that included tasty ex-husbands.

His heart flooded with hope, Hughie wrapped his arms around Rui and swore never to let go of the only good thing left in his miserable life. “I’m sorry I failed you so much when we were married. You being here tonight is the best thing that’s happened to me since you left. I still love you.”

“What the fuck?” Rui muttered.

It wasn’t the response Hughie had expected after such an honest declaration of true love. Why wasn’t he reassuring him that he wasn’t crazy, that he returned, without question, the same feelings the divorce had forced them both to hold back? Just to make sure Rui knew he loved him, body and soul, Hughie held on even tighter. “It’s your turn to say you still love me too.”

Rui tried to squirm out of his bear hug. “Please let me go.”

“I was thinking about that little bed-and-breakfast we bought for our retirement. Maybe we can start fresh there soon. I now have all the time in the world for you.”

Rui had pulled away far enough so he could grab Lameo’s shoulders. He seemed to be almost begging for something. “We have to tell him now.”

“Larry? Where’s that date you were bragging about?” From as early as he could recall, Hughie Roman had always been the last to know, or in one very important matter, he’d been left out entirely.

Rui had nearly freed himself after holding on to Lameo’s torso like an anchor. “We have to tell him before he makes a fool of himself.”

“You mean an even bigger fool.” Hughie wasn’t in favor of releasing his ex, but Rui had fought for dear life.

Larry finally spoke, “He just lost his job, lost the Emmy, and—”

“And I lost you to Father Flannigan?”

Hughie clenched his fists. He could only think of one way to settle all his pent-up frustrations and nagging questions. With one terrible punch to his jaw, he knocked out his so-called BFF, who fell backward into the gorgeous birthday cake the show had presented him. That’ll teach them they couldn’t just put him out to pasture.

He turned to Rui for a congratulatory embrace, but his ex-husband had already darted to Larry’s side, wiping away fluffy white icing and cake bits from the fallen man’s now soiled tux.

“Grow up, Hughie Roman,” Rui said. “You’re a sixty-year-old baby.”

It had broken his heart one more time.

“How long has this been going on?” he asked unapologetically while they plucked a few now extinguished birthday candles from Larry’s suit. “I’ve been wondering all this time why you walked out on me. It was Father Flannigan all along.”

“Stop playing TV detective.” Rui shook his head. “And his name is Larry, not Father Flannigan or Lameo or Mr. Vanilla.”

“It’s my favorite flavor,” Larry cooed as he sampled some of the heavenly birthday cake smeared on his coat.

“Hughie never means it as a sign of affection, honey.” Rui stood up between them, protectively anchored to the floor. “You don’t deserve an explanation, but we’ve only been seeing each other since Valentine’s Day. After the divorce.”

“And neither of you could have told me? You had to save it for now? Here?”

“I’m sorry,” Rui said. “We should’ve told you sooner.” 

“I thought we were BFFs?” Hughie asked. He’d always been accomplished at roasting Lameo Larry with his own guilt.

“I’m sorry, pal,” Larry said. “I promised Rui I wouldn’t say anything until after our wedding.”

“Wedding?” Hughie screamed bloody murder and vaulted towards Larry. It wasn’t about betrayal anymore. He wanted vengeance. “Wedding.”

To get to Lameo, he’d have to get Rui out of the way first. He took a deep breath and thrust out his chest as he stared into Rui’s outraged eyes. His ex hadn’t blinked. He was now filled with the same need to get even. The same Rui Mamo, who had always quoted his idol Michelle Obama: “When they go low, we go high.” Hughie smiled smugly as he shoved him out of his way.

Their suits were covered in icing, but Rui and Larry had remained flopped on the ballroom floor beside each other as two gay wedding cake toppers Hughie had just plucked off and dumped. The two men rolled over to look into each other’s eyes, then burst out laughing.

Hughie scowled. They had no reason to laugh after what he had done to them. It was as if nothing else mattered as long as they were together. He cried, “I’m sorry.”

“We owed you that for keeping mum. I didn’t want to go tonight, but Larry insisted we try to remain your friends. He’s been worried about how lost you seem. Seeing you tonight, I’m worried about you too.”

“I don’t want your pity,” Hughie said. “From either of you.”

“You know neither of us would cheat on you,” Larry said as he held onto Rui. “Let’s not get into it here.”

Hughie lowered his head in shame. All the party guests had stayed quiet as the drama had played out, but he quickly noticed the flashes from mobile phones and various devices still pointed at them. It only reminded him that others had forever captured his heartbreak for all the world to see. Even the writing staff of Autumn of My Discontent kept their ears glued to the air for future storyline material.

His other BFF, Ben Jerry, the show’s head writer, had been taking mental notes but shook his head disappointedly at Hughie once he’d glanced in his direction.

“Hughie?” Rui stopped him.  “I have to talk to you.”

“Get out of the way. I already apologized. By the way, did Ben Jerry know about you and Larry?”

“Who’s Ben Jerry? The ice cream?”

“No, the head writer. I thought he was my best friend.”

Rui had stifled his laughter. “If he’d really been your best friend, then you’d know his name is Gerry Hemmings. You were the best man at his freaking wedding.”

“Thank you for the information,” Hughie whimpered. He gave him the cold shoulder, even as Rui tried to reach out. “I’m done with this show, and Rui, I’m done with you.”

“Larry told me the studio has been getting a lot of legal-related calls.”

“It’s none of your fiancé’s business. See, I’ve accepted your joyous news.”

“Never mind me. Is that why the producers really fired you?”

“And it’s likewise none of your business.”

“Despite everything we’ve said and done to hurt each other, I still care about you. Larry and I both do.”

Hughie acknowledged his good intentions with a cool nod. “It was part of the reason. They also think I’m ready to retire, considering I’m reaching retirement age pretty soon.”

“You? Retire? That was never your plan until you married me.”

“It’s why I bought shares in that quaint bed-and-breakfast. It was my promise to make more time for you when I eventually did.”

Rui brushed off his nostalgia. “The Hotel Cairo was never a little BB. It was much too big an investment on your part for me to have split in half. It’s all yours. You should sell it to pay off your debts.”

“Sell it?” He became teary-eyed, recalling their hopes and dreams when things had been good. “We dreamed of running it once. Just the two of us.”

Before he walked off, Rui grabbed his shoulder once more. “Good luck and happy birthday. And please don’t sleep with Herbie. I saw the way he looks at you.”

“Why would you think I would do something that stupid?” he replied to no one.

As much as he’d wanted to hit the party’s open bar to drown his troubles, he hadn’t the resolve to rejoin the celebration and its superficial guests. Especially not when the only two people who’d given a damn about him there had left together.

He stormed off to the valet where the other guests who’d been waiting in line encouraged him to skip to the front, thrown into a panic that an unkempt man was allowed in their presence.

“I’m sorry for dripping cake all over your red carpet,” Hughie said as he passed them. “The network was celebrating my sixtieth birthday.”

“Happy birthday, Mr. Roman,” the friendly valet manager said.

“Can you get my car?” he said excitedly, despite the ordeal he’d experienced. “It’s the white gold Lamborghini with the license plate HUEY1.”

The manager scrolled through his iPad until he had located Hughie’s record. He replaced his happy birthday smile with an apologetic pout. “I’m afraid there’s a minor issue with your vehicle, sir.”

“Don’t tell me you scratched my car.” Hughie threw his hands in the air. “It’s a five hundred thousand dollar car. You can’t just treat it like you would a Mini Cooper Electric.”

“No, Mr. Roman.” He picked up his walkie-talkie, confirming something with the garage. “Maybe we can chat in private in my office?”

Hughie longed for a drink. He shouldn’t have to be bothered by the problems of others. He had enough troubles of his own. “I’m sorry, but I have another party to go to. You need to tell me what happened here, not in your office.”

“Sir, your Lamborghini’s been repossessed,” the valet manager informed him as close-lipped as possible. “They left a number for you to call to settle your debt if you wish.”

It’s not like he hadn’t expected it to happen at some point when he’d stopped paying off the ninety-one thousand he still owed. It was still turning out to be the worst night of his life. Despite the exasperated looks everyone had given him earlier as more cake remnants fell off him, Hughie directed himself to the ballroom. At least there would be free booze there for the remainder of the evening.

Before he succumbed to his pitiful fate, a knight in shining armor stopped him. “I can give you a ride home. I still have the limo. I’ll take you wherever you want.”

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