“Well, I mean it. I should do this more often, it feels great. I’m like, unstoppable.”
He laughs, finally smiling. “That sounds like a lyric you’d write in your notebook.”
“Ouch. Fair, though. Know any words that rhyme with unstoppable?”
“None come to mind.” He takes a deep breath, and his shoulders relax. “Thank you. You have no idea how badly I needed to hear all that.”
“So, we’re back on?”
“Zach, we weren’t off. I just needed to know you were walking by my side, not being, like, dragged along kicking and screaming.” He smiles, and steps closer. “Although, is it just me, or does this feel like the part in a movie where the music starts swelling and we make out in the rain?”
I glance around. There’s no music, just the faint chirping of crickets outside. I’ve always loved the sound.
“Oh really?” I ask. “So, should we, you know, do that?”
He grabs me by the shirt, pulls me to him, and kisses me.
* * *
Now that Ruben and I have decided to come out publicly, we made the joint decision to tell the rest of the band our plans.
It’s the morning after my big declaration, and we’re in Ruben’s bedroom with a Zoom call set up. Jon is already waiting, but Angel hasn’t requested to join, even though he’s seen the link in the group chat.
“You’re sure about this?” he asks.
“Completely. Are you?”
He nods.
Angel accepts the call, and then Ruben starts the meeting.
“Oh hey, nice hair,” says Angel.
“Thanks.”
“What’s up? Surely you didn’t just set this up to show us a haircut.”
I clear my throat. “Er, no, um, we have news. We’ve decided we want to come out publicly, even if Chorus won’t let us.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah,” says Ruben. “It’s become pretty clear they aren’t going to let us do it on their terms, so we’re making our own.”
“Right,” says Jon.
“But we wanted to check with you all first,” I say. “Because this will impact you all.”
“I’m so in,” says Angel. “I say you fuck ’em up.”
“Jon?”
Jon’s brow creases. “I think it’s a great idea. You should be able to be yourselves. It’s garbage that they asked you to keep your sexuality a secret.”
A rush of relief fills me. I knew Angel would be down to do something this chaotic, but Jon is much more of a risk when it comes to this sort of thing.
And then he surprises me further. “I have an idea,” he says. “If we’re going to do this, we should do it right.”
We talk it over until we’re all on board.
“It’s perfect,” says Ruben. “I’m in if you all are.”
I offer my hand, and Ruben grabs it. I don’t need to say anything. It’s obvious I am completely and utterly in.
That just leaves Angel. He grins. “Let’s wreak some havoc.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
RUBEN
The crowd’s been lining up in Central Park for two days.
While we get our hair and makeup done by Penny—who goes out of her way to lament how bedraggled we’ve all let ourselves become without her regular care—our team sends hundreds of bottles of water into the crowd. It makes it look like they care, but realistically, they just don’t want anyone collapsing from heat exhaustion or dehydration on their watch. Of course, neither do I, but I have a feeling that while my feelings stem from “god, that would be horrible,” theirs are closer to “god, that’d interrupt the whole concert.”
We’re set up in a heavily guarded tent behind the pop-up stage, surrounded by standing fans, harried staff hissing into headsets, and the low hum of nearby generators. Zach and Jon have ditched their jackets, laying them over the back of the nearest plastic chairs. Luckily for Angel and me, the two of us have been styled in T-shirts for the concert. The afternoon sun has a bite to it today, but at least we won’t be out in it for too long. We’ll go out, participate in an interview, perform “Overdrive” for the first time, launch into a quick message from Jon to the fans, then two more songs. Easy.
At least, that’s the official plan. Reality is going to play out somewhat differently.
I poke my head out of the tent to catch a glimpse of the crowd. I can’t see much through the security detail, but the chatter tells me they’ve started filing in to stand in front of the stage. My stomach plunges. It’s the first time I’ve been nervous before a show in years.