Chapter 19 #2
“I’ll keep that in mind," Luka replied, knowing he’d never have the guts to ask Arnaud for that. “I learned because you’re Hikaru’s closest friend. He doesn’t speak French when we’re alone, but I know you do when you’re together.”
“So you’re nosey.”
“Yes, that too.”
Arnaud barked a laugh. “Incredible. I love that, I am glad you are honest with me.”
“I don’t know why I wouldn’t be.” Luka shrugged. “Why get caught in a lie when the truth is simple?”
“Because people like to suck up, make themselves seem better than they are," Arnaud said. “It’s a problem for us. People are always on their best behavior, and it’s fake as hell. Nice when people are just normal.”
“Hikaru said so, too," Luka agreed. “He said he liked me because I called him a shit head like the second day we were talking.”
“You did?” Arnaud snickered. “Of course, they would like that. They’ve always been a brat, but you should have seen him at eighteen when we met.”
“How did you meet?” Luka asked, trying not to think of Reno being any more obstinate than he already was.
“I cold emailed him, actually," Arnaud replied. “I grew up surrounded by music because of ma mère5. We would sing together a lot, and she encouraged me to keep trying to find the right people to make music with. So as a teen, I would sit online and dig around for unknown artists waiting to get discovered. If I found someone whose style and sound I liked, I’d just email them and see if they wanted to be friends.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, why not? I was doing a lot of vocal covers of popular songs and had a bit of an audience on YouTube, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t link back to myself and verify I was a fellow musician and not some creepy fan.”
“I guess that does make a difference.”
“So Hikaru was playing in this little band with his old mates in school, doing the whole visual shock thing. Super over the top, I don’t think he ever wasn't in a dress, and you should have seen his hair. I’ll show you the photos sometime.
Some of his classmates had gone to see a show, and a recording ended up online that I was lucky enough to find. My man could shred, even at seventeen.”
Luka huffed a laugh. “That’s not surprising.”
“He played the guitar like it owed him his life. I knew we needed to be together. I sent him an email.”
“What’d he say?”
“That my voice was unreal and I was super hot.”
“No way.” They turned the corner, and the line for the club came into view.
“Yes way! They’d always been open about liking boys and girls, and got really lucky not to feel any shame about it.
I, on the other hand, un idiot inconscient6—blind to my own interests.
” Arnaud started digging around in his pockets for his wallet.
“Amelia had a good laugh once she saw who I’d picked to be in my band.
She said, ‘Arnaud! Mais t'es complétement con ou quoi7? You surround yourself with the world’s hottest men to spend every day with, and you expect me to think you don’t want to suck their dicks?
’ and I think my face lit on fire. She is so cruel to me,” he said in the most wistful way.
“You sound happy about that.” Luka raised an eyebrow.
Arnaud gave him a sheepish smile. “I like it when people are a little mean. It makes life fun to get to argue and tussle a bit. Amelia and I grew up together, and as kids, we wrestled and fought. That didn’t really change, even when our wrestling one day ended up with sex at the end.
She matches me, my forever playmate,” he said as he pulled some cash out.
“But, she called me out for how I looked at everyone in my band, caught me red-handed before I even knew my hands were painted. She told me to get it out of my system and see how I felt. Turns out I’m a flamer, passif8, I love cock, and Amelia and I will share when I am in town. She loves watching me bottom.”
Luka felt his face heat, unsure why Arnaud was sharing all of this with him. He didn’t get the chance to stutter out a reply before Arnaud continued.
“So I found Hikaru, ouais9? After about a year of emails, he graduated from school and came to visit me in Nice. He met T-yan, and soon decided to move to London with us to make music.”
“How’d you meet T-yan? He moved before Hikaru?” Luka started towards the end of the line, and Arnaud caught him by the elbow.
“I’ll tell you inside. Come this way—Par ici10.
” He tugged, and Luka stumbled a little as they moved to the front of the line.
Arnaud handed the cash to the bouncer who only took a moment to recognize who he was and then waved them inside.
Over the music, Arnaud leaned into Luka’s ear and said, “Drinks?”
Luka nodded and then followed Arnaud to the bar, thankful to have someone so tall to track through the crowded club. The pop music was booming, and the dance floor was packed. Already, he wanted to take his hoodie off and press himself into the undulating crowd to join them.
At the bar, Arnaud pulled him forward, helping by pushing a few people out of Luka’s way, and when Luka ordered, Arnaud left cash for the bartender before Luka could even reach for his wallet. He was starting to understand he didn’t really need to bring it at all.
Arnaud handed him a shot of whiskey, tipped his own shot glass against it, and said, “Santé11!” then downed it and chased it with a mixed drink. Luka took his own shot, grabbed his drink from the bar, and hurried after Arnaud toward the dance floor.
Already, Arnaud had someone pressed against him as he held his drink high so it wouldn’t spill, and Luka had to shake his head. It must have been a bit ridiculous to be that attractive, to have people flock to him instantly everywhere he went.
Luka sipped on his drink, watching Arnaud dance with a man not much taller than Luka, and had to take a moment to marvel at what his life had become. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get over being in with Voltage, even if it were starting to feel more natural by the day.
He wondered, too, why Arnaud seemed so much more open and comfortable being in public than Reno did.
It was possible that Arnaud was less instantly recognizable with his dark hair and his tattoos covered by his jacket, but Luka had a bad feeling that there was something more to it. There was a sharp pang in his chest, just for a moment—he wished Reno were there with him.
He turned his attention to the DJ booth, watching as he hyped the crowd up, and shelved his longing for later.
He’d get to go home to Reno later, after all.
He played with the tag on his collar, then ran his fingers over the smooth, warm metal.
When a tall man brushed against him on his right and another appeared on the left, Luka let himself move to the music instead of getting swallowed by his own thoughts.
“Luka!” Someone called out to him, and he turned, spotting Rosé waving.
“Darling, how are you? I heard you were sick!” She wore an extremely flattering light purple wig, and her dress looked like it was made from strung crystals.
“You don’t look sick, but baby, you need to color your hair.
Wait a moment!" She bent down and pushed his hair away from his face, inspecting his roots.
“Are you blond? Like, honest to goddess, blond?”
“Yes.” Luka pulled away, trying to fix his hair. “Don’t remind me. I didn’t expect to be here this long. I didn’t pack any of my hair stuff.”
“Come over this week, I’ll play hair stylist for you,” Rosé said, and Luka’s eyes widened. It was the first time any of the girls had invited him to anything outside of partying.
“Sure, I’d like that.” Luka raised his glass to hers and then took a drink. “I think I’m staying. I told my boyfriend I would.”
“I’ve gotta buy you a drink for that! Boyfriend! Finally. Maybe soon you can bring this mysterious man around and introduce us.” She motioned for Luka to finish his drink. “Come on, sweetheart, let's get you a refill.”
Luka went with her to the bar, where she ordered him a drink. She asked him questions while they waited, about his week, his art, how he felt about still being in London.
“I’ll miss my roommate's cat the most, I think,” Luka admitted, sipping from the new drink and keeping an eye on the top of Arnaud’s head over the crowd. “My roommate, too. They’re fantastic.”
“I’m sure you can visit them," Rosé said, sounding sympathetic. “Well, if you’re staying, there’s a trans art market happening in a few weeks. Come with me? Maybe you can meet the people running it and get a booth for your things?”
“Oh, I don’t know if I have enough to sell, yet. Maybe when this new comic is finished, and if I can find a publisher.”
Luka appreciated the way Rosé seemed to take an interest in his work, in his life, unlike the other girls she hung out with. The rest of the group was alright, but sometimes he felt like they were shallow.
“Wish me luck, I should have it done in the next few weeks.”
“Good luck, darling.” Rosé clicked their glasses together again. “You’ve got the talent.”
“Thank you." Luka sipped from his drink, then said, “I’m gonna go find my friend before he gets cruised too hard. I’ll catch you later.”
Rosé laughed and waved goodbye to him before he slipped back onto the dance floor.
He pushed through the crowd, trying not to spill his drink, feeling pleasantly warm and happy.
He pressed up beside Arnaud, who celebrated his return by getting him to dance, his hands on Luka’s shoulders, moving him to the beat.
Arnaud had so much energy, it was infectious.
They stayed on the dance floor, dancing and singing along, until the DJ took a break and the speakers started playing top 40s jams instead.
Arnaud pulled Luka off the dance floor and to the outside patio bar, where he ordered them another round of drinks and some water.
“I thought you said you were too serious,” Arnaud said, once he’d downed half of his water in one go. “It looks to me like you play just fine.”