In fact, the interview is the first time I’ve had someone properly acknowledge my existence since Jon left me alone in the gym.
Jon and I are sitting on a cream-colored couch, with Angel and Zach taking the armchairs to either side. Against the wall, Erin’s sitting and scrolling on her iPad, Keegan’s bouncing his crossed legs as he scans the room, and Penny’s watching us eagerly. Our interviewers are two women in their twenties, both dressed head to toe in couture. They’re sweet and, luckily, don’t seem to be trying to lead us with their questions like some others do.
There’s not as much banter as there usually is, today. The Tension is sitting over us like a blanket sucking away our oxygen, putting out our fire.
Jon’s the best at ignoring it. Right now, he’s rhapsodizing about our history. He takes a lot of the “band-centric” questions. He’s spent a lifetime in training, after all.
“I actually didn’t bond with Angel at first,” he says. “Ruben was my best friend, and he sort of squeezed me into the group for the end-of-year concert.” He mimes shoving something into a small hole, and the interviewers laugh.
“They didn’t want to perform with the son of a famous producer?” one of the interviewers asks, eyes glinting. Ooff. Talk about a touchy subject. But Jon doesn’t flinch.
“They didn’t know! I kept it a secret, fake name, everything. That’s why I know they like me for me.” He winks.
“Except, maybe, Angel?” the other interviewer asks.
Angel puts up his hand. “Can I say for the record that Jon is my boy?”
“Your boy?” she repeats, uncertain.
“I’m totally cool with Jon. He’s all right.” He goes over the top with this “admission,” and Jon makes a heart with his fingers to hold over his chest.
The interviewer grins and leans forward. “Now, when you boys all met, they knew you as Reece. That was your name at the time, yes?”
“Yes. Still is, if you ask the government. But what do they know?”
Jon smiles to himself.
“Why did you change it?”
“It’s actually a funny story. One day, a girl sees me on the street and she faints, right? Just, boom, woman down, middle of the sidewalk. And she comes to and says to me, oh my god, you’re so gorgeous, I thought I saw a real-life angel. And the name stuck.”
He deadpans the whole thing. It’s a running joke to the fan base that he gives a different story every time he’s asked about the origins of the nickname, and I’m pretty sure these women are in on it, because they don’t look taken aback at all.
“So, you two are good friends?” one of them asks, and I notice the change in tone immediately. I grimace.
“Yup.”
“Is everyone friends? We have heard some rumors that maybe there are some who do not like each other as much.”
Well, that was delicately put. There’s no way this question got through by accident. If Chorus didn’t want us to comment on the rumors, it would’ve been a blocked question. They obviously want us to use this question to shut the rumors down.
Jon takes this one, of course. He doesn’t seem even a little surprised to hear a question so dangerous. It makes me suspect his dad asked him to discount the rumors before we came. Like this very exchange was planned. “There’s just no truth to that at all. We’re like a family. Closer than a family. We chose each other, you know? We’ve always been compatible, but being on tour brings you closer together in ways we couldn’t even predict before this. Forced proximity, I guess,” he jokes.
Do I look as alarmed by that as I feel? Because if I’d been drinking a glass of water I would’ve spat it out.
I sneak a lot at Zach, and he’s lost all color, like he may faint.
Zach and I are both sitting in stunned silence, so Angel jumps in. “I don’t even know which rumor you’re referring to,” he says, hamming up the bewilderment. “Zach, do you know what on earth these lovely ladies may have heard? I’m lost.”
Zach startles, and chokes on the first word. “No idea.” He clears his throat, and Erin hands him a water bottle. He takes it but doesn’t drink. “No, but in all seriousness, it’s kind of a silly rumor. I don’t think any of us would be mad at each other just because some of us got on a list.”
It’s another one of his digs that’s only hurtful in context. I can’t even retaliate, because I’m the only one who knows the real meaning. We wouldn’t be mad at each other about that. I don’t like him because we made out and it meant more to him than it did to me, and he made it weird.