Jon straightens in his seat and raises his eyebrows, waiting.
“I was … really shitty to you. My therapist calls it misplaced anger, which apparently is a thing. Who knew?”
Jon is lingering by the TV, clearly unsure of what to do, or what to even do with his hands. I get it. I am not exactly sure Angel has ever apologized before.
“You said you hated me,” says Jon.
“I don’t hate you.” Angel chews on his lip. “I love you. I love all of you. I was just … everything was so fucked up. I was angry, and fucking terrified, and I thought you were just doing it to hurt me. I didn’t get it. It took me weeks to get it, actually. I guess I had a lot of time to think.” He gives us a weak smile. “It’s not an excuse, and you don’t have to forgive me. I probably wouldn’t forgive me. But I’m so fucking sorry for what I said.”
Jon looks at him for a long while, scanning him from head to toe. His expression is so unreadable, I actually start wondering if Angel pushed it too far. Maybe this was unforgivable to Jon.
Then Jon’s expression crumples. “I missed you,” he says. “It’s so good to see you, man.”
Angel springs to his feet—as quickly as he can with his limp—and the two of them pull each other into a rough hug.
Arms around Jon, Angel looks at us over his shoulder. “And you two. Shit. I know I wasn’t cool on tour, and I know I lost my shit, and that messed with you both. I’m sorry about that, too. Fuck, I’m sorry about all of it.”
“It’s okay,” says Ruben. “But thank you for the apology.”
“Yeah, thank you. You shithead,” I add with a grin.
Angel steps away from Jon. “The thing is, the drugs, it wasn’t even for fun. It started out as a way to stop feeling so criticized and controlled all the time, but it got out of hand, and I couldn’t stop. Once you get a break from it it’s so hard to go back to dealing with it sober.”
I don’t want to do drugs, but I get it. If I could take a pill and stop the feeling of constant, overwhelming pressure, if only momentarily? I can see the appeal.
“Hey, serious question,” I say, turning to Angel. “When you were high, you said something about wanting to be called Reece. Is that what we should be calling you? Because we can?”
He seems taken aback. “I did?”
“Yeah.”
He considers this, then shrugs. “I don’t know. I actually like being called Angel. I just don’t love that I didn’t get a say in picking it. I was just told I had to.”
“Are you sure?” asks Ruben. “We can call you whatever you’d like.”
“Oh, no, I’m sure. What kind of pop star is called Reece? But anyway, let’s watch the video now, no more confessions from me.”
Jon laughs, and he hits play.
The camera zooms past the word “Overdrive,” showing a sleek, neon-drenched city at night. And then there’s a shot of Jon, Ruben, and me, in our futuristic racing jumpsuits, getting ready for the race to start. Jon is talking to a ridiculously hot racer. Ruben is sitting in his front seat reading a book called How to Win at Racing, while I am tinkering with my engine, my jumpsuit hanging down so I’m just in a black tank, and I have grease smeared on me.
“You look hot,” whispers Ruben.
“So do you.”
He snuggles against me as it cuts to Angel, who has just reached the racetrack, seemingly late. His suit is all white.
“First time?” asks a guard, whose eyes are obscured by a shiny visor.
“Um, yeah,” stammers Angel.
“Boy, you sure you’re in the right place?”
“Er, yes?”
“Well, you better hurry up, the race is about to start.”
Angel rushes past a lineup of cars, to an all-white Mercedes. The camera lingers on the logo for a beat. Angel climbs inside, and closes the door, just as the flag girl walks out.
Angel makes eye contact with her, there’s a beat, and then the song starts.
I watch the rest of the video in a kind of awe. It’s amazing. They’ve edited all the individual pieces we shot together into one sleek, cool piece of art. It’s the perfect Saturday video, fun and exciting and, let’s be real, a little silly. The CGI is also seamless, which makes me wonder how much they spent on it. It’s got to be a fortune. They usually spend the most on the video for the first single, but this might be the most expensive video we’ve ever made.
The video ends on the “candid” scene we shot at the end of the race, and they used the take where Ruben and I totally avoid each other. It’s the one moment I don’t like in the whole video. Would it have been so bad if we had stood next to each other?