Chapter 21
Even after several years of success on the charts, Luke can’t quite believe it’s come to this, can’t quite believe he’s actually made it.
He thinks about what got him here–the time at NACA, the subsequent performances at local music festivals like Jamboree in the Hills, the slow but steady growth, the long hours and the relentless touring–and he’s proud of what he’s done.
He wasn’t discovered like Mikey was; he worked his ass off to get here, damn it.
At the same time, it’s not all sunshine and roses.
He has to pose as a good ole boy a lot of the time, and while he kind of is, there are days when it gets a bit tedious, pretending to be the redneck type when really he’s just more of a country boy.
The fact he’s still in the closet makes things worse.
He’s conscious all the while of just what Mikey’s doing when it comes to his career.
He’s aware of his party boy reputation, of the whirlwind relationships with fellow pop stars like Mindy Mace, of his success first with the Heartthrobs and then his solo career.
And, of course, he’s aware he’s doing it without Luke.
No matter how many years go by, Mikey’s still there, the one person Luke wants but can never have.
What did you expect? He asks himself every time he thinks about Mikey. Did you think he was just going to shut down and spend the rest of his life pining for a love he can never have? Life isn’t a movie, Luke, so it’s time to grow up and stop acting like it is.
The truth is, though, Luke has always been painfully jealous of the life Mikey’s living. Even though he’s bisexual, he never acknowledges his attraction to men, and he moves through the world like a straight guy.
Fortunately, they almost never move in the same circles, which is just fine with Luke.
Luke is aware, of course, he also moves through the world like a straight guy because, for all anyone really knows, he is.
He’s never come out as gay–not to his family, not to his friends, and certainly not to anyone in the industry.
Instead he makes do with secret little affairs with guys he knows he’ll never see again.
He always makes sure he’s somewhere where people won’t know who he is, usually somewhere international.
It’s always easier to go incognito in places where people don’t know him.
These little hookups are never anything serious. It is, in the end, just sex, which is okay as far as Luke is concerned. Sure, he’d like to have a relationship he could actually have in the open, but it’s just not worth the sacrifice of his musical success.
The system works well enough for him, but he finds himself wishing for a different life.
Maybe someday, he thinks.
He’s in the middle of recording a new album, so he gets up early, throws on some clothes, and goes to the studio, hoping to get in some good recording time.
This one’s been a bit rough. The words just aren’t coming, and the notes just aren’t fitting together in the way he’s used to.
He knows it’ll come in time; it’s just one of those things you have to get through in order to come out stronger on the other side, but it’s still annoying.
It’s been a long time since Luke has had to deal with this kind of creative struggle.
He’s in the middle of a session–finally starting to get lost in the music–when his producer starts tapping on the glass, trying to get his attention.
This immediately makes him nervous, because Chris usually just lets him do his thing while he’s recording.
He knows not to bother Luke unless it’s something really, really important.
It’s not just important. It’s devastating.
Somehow, some enterprising paparazzi website has managed to get hold of a video of Luke making out with another guy in an alley.
There’s no denying it’s him, either, because there are several close-up photos, too.
The sad thing is he barely even remembers that particular hook-up.
It was some guy he met at a bar in some tiny town in England, and after the two of them made out Luke had promptly left him behind, going back to the U.S. without a second thought.
“Are you okay, man?” Chris asks. “Should I call Terry?”
Terry’s his manager, the one who’s pretty much responsible for all of his PR and for making sure his public image never gets away from what they want it to be.
He’s going to be so pissed when he sees this, and the thought of having a conversation about the situation makes him want to crawl into the nearest hole until everything blows over.
But he knows he can’t. Terry’s not going to let him, and he’d be ashamed of himself if he took the coward’s way out.
You gotta face the music, a voice says in the back of his mind, sounding a lot like Aunt Patty.
Thinking of Aunt Patty reminds him: he’s also going to have to talk to his family about this, which might be the worst part of the entire debacle.
This can’t be happening, he thinks.
But then Terry calls, and the news goes from bad to worse.
Every news station has it, including the ones back home in the Ohio Valley.
They’re all falling over themselves trying to figure out the identity of the young man Luke Carter has been caught kissing, and they’re all even more desperate to get a comment from Luke.
His phone starts buzzing, and he can see right away it’s various members of his family, and then there are the texts, all of which are basically some version of the same thing, the same damning question: is it true?
Luke notices none of them actually seem to care about how he’s feeling. They just want to know if the man they thought they knew is really the thing they can’t forgive.
Then comes the text he’s been dreading. It’s from Aunt Patty.
It’s just two words, but they’re the most ominous words he can imagine.
Call me.
He doesn’t, not at first. He doesn’t think he has the stomach for it, at least not until he has a few drinks.
In the end, he has more than a few. He’s more than a little drunk by the time he finally gets around to calling her back, and on some level he knows this is literally the worst way he could handle the conversation.
He ignores his better judgment; he’s gotten very good at doing so, lately.
When there’s something he doesn’t want to deal with he just…
doesn’t. It’s not a perfect method for coping with things, but it’s the one he’s going to keep using until he can’t anymore.
“Hi,” he slurs into the phone as soon as his aunt picks up. He hates the sigh from the other end of the line. She’s dealt with enough drunks in her life to know the sound of a young man who’s had one–or three–too many.
“Honey,” she says, “I’m gonna cut right to the point. Is it true?”
Luke swallows hard, because he knows he can’t lie to Aunt Patty. She deserves to know the truth, even if it destroys their relationship..
Which he’s aware it probably will.
“Yes, it’s true,” he says. “I’m gay.”
The silence on the other end of the line tells him all he needs to know.
He’s known this was going to be the result of his coming out, which is why he hasn’t done it before now.
He wishes he could get ahold of the photographer who caught him kissing another dude–no, he wishes he could get ahold of whoever told him where he was going to be–because if he did, he knows exactly what he’d do…
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Aunt Patty says. The worst part is he actually believes her. He doesn’t think she’s mad at him. He thinks she’s disappointed.
Luke isn’t sure what he wants right now.
He isn’t sure if he wants to yell at her and demand she love him for what he is, or if he wants her to hang up on him, or, or, or…
his thoughts just sort of blank out, and all he can do is sit on the other end of the phone and wait for her to say something else.
“I can’t approve, but I hope you’re safe,” she says.
“Is that all you have to say?” he finally manages to choke out. “You hope I’m safe?”
He’s so close to falling apart. The tears are almost choking him. The words are jumbled all around in his head. No matter how hard he tries to get them into some kind of shape, to put the many things he’s feeling into a coherent sentence, he just can’t.
“What do you want me to say?” she asks. “You’re a homosexual, and you know what the Bible says.” She sighs again, and in his mind’s eye he can see the look on her face, can see the way she’s looking off into the distance, trying to find some way of making sense of what’s happening.
“Luke, I can’t give you what you want,” she says. “I…I can’t see you. I’m not even sure I want to talk to you, not as long as you’re living in sin. I…I just want you to be right with God.”
The words cut him deeper than if she’d cussed him out.
He wants to tell her he knows what his relationship with God is like–it’s pretty good, thank you very much–but he knows it would be a waste of time.
Aunt Patty has always had a very stubborn and inflexible way of looking at things, and she’s not likely to change, not even for her favorite nephew.
“I have to go,” she says. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”
Luke is crying now, the tears streaming down his face, and he’s trying to hold back the gut-wrenching sobs trying to tear out of him.
Something tells him this might be the last time the two of them speak, and he doesn’t want it to end like this.
He wants something else from her, but he still can’t quite figure out what it is.
Whatever it is, though, he knows in his heart she’s not going to be able or willing to give it to him.
The question is: can he be okay with that?
“Please,” he says.
“Goodbye, Luke,” she says, and the phone beeps as the call ends.
Things happen very quickly after that. Luke knows he should probably stay and try to fix things, or at the very least talk to his team, to see what they think he should do.
However, he doesn’t. Instead, he drops everything and, throwing a few clothes in a duffel bag, he gets in his truck, drives away from Nashville, and never looks back.
Luke knows exactly where he’s going. He’s going to head back to West Virginia.
He knows there’s a whole bunch of shit he’s going to have to deal with there–including grappling with what the rest of his family are going to think about what’s just happened–but for the moment it’ll be enough to just be back in his home state rather than in Tennessee.
It’s probably just as well, since he really hasn’t managed to make many friends in the capital of country music.
He’s lucky he had a good accountant, though, someone who was able to make sure his money was wisely invested.
This money has allowed him to buy a nice little cabin up on Fish Creek.
It’s far enough from town it shouldn’t be too hard to get out of the public eye, but close enough he can get his supplies without too much trouble.
It’s been a while since he’s been there but, as soon as he pulls up the driveway he heaves a sigh of relief.
He’s home.