7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Axel
A s I sat at the table in our bus sipping a cola, I eyed the two ginger ales next to me.
One for Ed.
One for Thornton.
Because I was under no illusions that Ed would confront me without his new sidekick. Which bugged the shit out of me because this wasn’t Thornton’s business. Hell, it wasn’t even Ed’s business. Except Ed had a funny way of determining what was his business and what wasn’t. He frequently ventured into territory that should’ve been private.
And I let him.
Because he’d been right once. Eight years ago. About us needing to get clean.
He’s been right about a shit ton more than that, and you know it.
Resentfully, I took another sip.
Ed and Thornton boarded the bus, and both approached me, each looking so very serious. I wanted to make a joke but now didn’t feel like the right moment for that.
My best friend handed his new boyfriend a ginger ale. Then he snagged his and plopped down next to me.
Thornton sat next to him. He pulled out his phone, swiped a couple of times, then placed it before me.
Orienting myself took about five seconds. “You son of a bitch. You had no right—”
“Probably not—” Thornton the asshole cut me off.
Which only made me madder.
“Doesn’t matter.” Ed sighed. “We can leave the ethical and moral debate for another day.” He hit pause of the video. The video of me and Mr. Threadgold. Talking and, if memory served, mere moments before we were about to kiss. And as much as I wanted to watch that kiss—to try to put it in perspective by being the observer—I just couldn’t.
Ed just had to keep going. “He’s our teacher, Axel. This is all kinds of wrong.” He took a long breath. “Was this going on in high school?”
“What?” I needed to clean my ears out because clearly Ed wouldn’t be suggesting I’d kissed our high school music teacher. While back in fucking high school. I gaped at him, truly horrified.
After a long moment, Ed let out another breath. “Well, thank fuck.”
“I can’t believe you thought—”
“The man’s almost twenty years older than you, Axel. And, try to deny it all you want, you were a vulnerable kid. Hurting. In a lot of pain—physical and emotional.”
Oh you did not just fucking go there. You did not just say that in front of a stranger. In front of a man here to dig up my deepest and darkest secrets. Our deepest and darkest secrets.
Completely and utterly uncowed, Ed continued. “And it would’ve been very easy for someone to take advantage of you.”
“Well, you too.” First, because that was the truth. Secondly, because I so badly needed to deflect this off me. Throwing the steaming pile of shit back in his lap felt vaguely fair. If a little offside.
He merely raised an eyebrow.
“And anyway…” I tapped my finger on the table. “He’s only fourteen years older. I’m an adult. He’s…a slightly older adult.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“What?” Fuck. He doesn’t get it. I have to make him understand. “There isn’t a this. ” I scratched my scalp. “Like he saw me and called me over.” No sense mentioning we’d arranged to meet. Or that I’d poured my soul out to him.
“What is he doing here?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Another lie. Jesus, you’re going to self-combust, you’ve told so many of them.
He rolled his hand. Like he wanted me to continue. To keep digging this hole he intended to push me in.
“And, like, we got to talking. Just talking.” I emphasized each word. “And I thought about how great having him here was. And how we’d just been talking about him this morning and, voilà, here he is. I mean, that’s great, right?”
Ed’s stony expression remained.
So I kept going. At this rate, I was going to dig a hole to China. “And, like, we got to talking. To reminiscing.”
“Like about when you were his student?”
Ouch. That tone could’ve cut glass. “Sure.” Inwardly, I winced. “But like more about our career. He’s followed us closely. And even seen a couple of concerts. He was at the PNE last week. Isn’t that cool?” Because if I made it about us and not about me then maybe Ed would back the fuck off.
Or not.
He pursed his lips. “No, not really cool. More like stalking.”
“It’s not like that, Ed. I swear.”
“You don’t know what it’s like, Axel. You had your tongue down his throat within five seconds of seeing him again. Hell, not that it fucking matters, but I didn’t even know he was gay.” He arched an eyebrow. “Or that you were.”
Oh crap. Maybe that was the real source of the pain. That he’d always been so honest with me about his bisexuality and I’d done nothing but lie to him all these years. In my wildest imagination, I’d never imagined I might wind up with a guy. Those urges…well, if I could be satisfied with a woman and not face all the rampant homophobia, then why bother.
Maybe because you’ve never met the right man?
Oh, shut up.
My inner voice was really pissing me off tonight.
Ed waited.
So I turned the table. I glared at Thornton. “You shouldn’t have taped me. You had no right.”
Bastard shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, you’re going to be onstage at one of the biggest music festivals in the States. Hellsbane was barely known last year. Look at them now. If you nail your performance tomorrow night, you might just hit that level of stardom.” He held up his hand. “Now, I don’t care about your sexuality. You might’ve noticed I’m not exactly out—I don’t want it to be the focus of my work. I don’t want to be the gay documentary filmmaker.”
If he was trying to appease me, it wouldn’t work. He might also be trying to appease his own guilt…but I wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily. I didn’t care that he was right. That people would perceive him—and his work—differently.
People suck.
Then his words struck me. “What are you trying to say?” I tried to glare. “I’m not gay.”
Ed stared at me, blinked a couple of times, then continue to regard me. “But—”
“That was…just a kiss. You know, like…”
“You seem to be saying like quite a bit during this conversation. Being articulate has never been a problem with you, Axel, so I’m worried.” He tried to grab my hand.
I yanked mine back. “I have to go.”
“Go where?” Ed glanced around.
“Somewhere other than here.” I rose, then met his gaze. “You just don’t get it.” I pounded my fist on the table, nearly knocking over the soda cans. “You’re both so far out of line. Filming me.” I pointed to Thornton. “And confronting me.” I jabbed a finger at Ed. “Fuck you both.”
I stomped to the front of the bus, down the stairs, and right out the door.
That righteous anger carried me all the way back to the main stage. One of the bigger named groups was performing their rehearsal. What are their names? Oh my God, I can’t believe you forgot. I wanted to argue I was entitled to forget at this point.
How fucking dare they? First Thornton with his fucking camera. Then Ed for feeling he had the right to confront me. Fuck them both.
I want Hugo. I need Hugo. To warn him. To have him comfort me . To have him either share my righteous fury or to tell me I was overreacting and blowing things out of proportion—both of which were entirely possible. Even I could admit I was too close to the situation to see it rationally. Surely Thornton wasn’t going to include the footage in his documentary. Everyone would see what a sleazeball he was. And surely Ed wasn’t going to tell everyone else.
As far as they all knew…I was straight. And yeah, Ed coming out as bisexual today was a big deal. Just like if Pauletta ever found the courage, that would be a big deal too. Maybe, with the way she kept looking at Mickey, she might come out as pan? Or was that potential relationship just a flash in the pan, much like Ed and Thornton’s was? Because no way were those two going to last. Fucking like rabbits was one thing.
They thought I didn’t know.
But I totally did.
Was I going to wander all night? I didn’t know where Hugo actually was, so that didn’t help. I made my way back to the food truck, but he wasn’t there. And why would he be? I’d kissed him. He’d panicked. I hadn’t gone after him. Then I’d been almost late for rehearsal. Not actually late…but Pauletta drilled into us from the beginning that better ten minutes early than two minutes late. So we were always early. To do anything less was to disrespect the woman who’d brought us this success.
Fuck this shit.
I’d sneak back into the bus and head to bed.
Sneak? Who are you kidding?
Okay, especially if Songbird and Big Mac were playing cards, entering unnoticed would be a challenge. But I could claim a headache—which I was totally starting to get—and head to the back. Maybe a quick shower and then early to bed. Tomorrow night was going to be the biggest night of our careers. More sleep rather than less would help with the nerves. Performance nerves.
Or so I told myself.
Because in no way was the churning in my gut due to the best kiss I’d had in my life.
One that might’ve just cost me everything.