Chapter 11 #2
Benji hadn’t let loose like this in ages, not since the first time XYZ performed at Unbound, the musical competition that had nearly rocketed them to fame.
He and Joshua spent hours dancing that weekend, in between fucking around in the tent whenever they got a chance.
And maybe, looking back, Benji preferred the dancing to the fucking around, but he’d been too happy to have Joshua there for the competition to complain.
Dancing to club music made Benji feel alive and free in ways few other things did. And writhing around with other half-naked men helped him embrace his preference for men over women in a safe space, with no expectations of taunts or bullying.
The liquor soaked into his limbs, keeping him loose and moving.
A colorful shot of something in a long tube ended up in his hand, so he drank it.
Fruity and sweet. He didn’t say no to a second one, and hot damn, he felt great.
Floaty and happy, with nothing weighing him down.
Not even the distance voice insisting he find his friends before he completely lost himself in booze.
Nope. He felt too good to bother, writhing and moving, semi-aware of his dance partner—partners?—touching his waist and back and butt. The touch felt nice. Soothing. The lights and music got dimmer. Further away.
Everything got further away.
His throbbing bladder urged Benji back to awareness, and he groaned loudly as the world rushed back in to ruin his perfect sleep. Bed. He was in bed. Someplace. He smelled coffee. His head throbbed, which made moving the pillow that covered it a very bad idea.
“I think Sleeping Beauty is waking up.”
Andy.
Thank God.
He only dimly remembered those first few shots at the bar, but the rest of his night was a blank. He was in bed, skinned down to his boxers, but he was with his band. At their hotel.
“Dude, you must have really needed to get something out of your system,” Bobby said, somewhere in the room beyond the pillow. “I’ve never seen you that hammered.”
Someone shifted on the bed next to him. “Are you sure he’s awake?” Danielle asked.
“He moved and he groaned.”
“Could be a nightmare.”
“I’m awake,” Benji said. “Can someone please shoot me in the head?”
“Poor baby.” Danielle patted his back over the covers. “We have coffee, aspirin, and a McMuffin ready to do battle with your hangover.”
He grunted. With a little help from the mother of the group, he got up and into the shower without his brain squeezing out of his ears.
The hot steam helped a bit with the throbbing in his temples, and after he’d dried and dressed, he settled in with coffee and food to ease the aspirin down.
Everyone was still puttering around the room instead of heading out to explore Providence, which was weird. And a bit alarming.
“What?” he asked, when he caught even Bobby staring. “Do I have egg on my face?”
“How much do you remember about last night?” Danielle asked.
I remember my boyfriend calling and telling me he kissed another guy. Fun times.
“Getting those first shots at the bar,” Benji replied. “Dancing. Not much else. Why? I didn’t climb onto the bar and embarrass myself, did I?”
“No.” She twisted her fingers in her lap. “We were all trying to keep an eye on you, but during last call you got lost in the crowd.”
His heart fell through his feet. “Shit, what did I do?”
“You were wasted, so it wasn’t really anything you did.
Someone who looked a hell of a lot like Joshua had you cornered by the wall.
He was kissing you, and he had his hand down the front of your pants, and, um, you were calling him Joshua.
” Danielle’s face was a mix of embarrassed and worried, which only made him feel worse.
Benji covered his face with both hands, unable to shake a new sense of wrongness. He’d gotten totally wasted and let another guy grope and kiss him. Fantastic.
The bed bounced, and Danielle wrapped herself around him from behind in a firm hug. “Are you okay?” she asked. “I’m sorry we didn’t keep a better eye out. We’ve never seen you get wasted before, but we shouldn’t have let that guy get his hands all over you.”
“Did I kiss him back?” He had to know.
“Well, I guess, but you really seemed to believe he was Joshua. I gave the guy a piece of my mind, for sure, about screwing with guys who are too drunk to know what’s going on. Asshole.”
Danielle had defended his drunk, dumbass self. Benji wanted to crawl back under the covers and hide. “I’m never drinking again.”
“There’s more,” Bobby said.
Benji’s head snapped up. Bobby was standing by the other bed, arms crossed, not happy, but also not exactly angry. “How can there possibly be more?”
“Some photos ended up on Instagram.”
“What?” His stomach pitched, and the food he’d eaten started crawling back up. “Photos of what?”
Bobby sighed. “Of that guy with his hand in your pants and his mouth all over you.”
“Fuck!” Benji launched off the bed, but he didn’t have anywhere to go. The small hotel room wasn’t big enough to pace very far. Maybe he could hide in the bathroom until it all went away.
“Eddie is trying to do some damage control,” Danielle said, “but the pictures have been shared and re-shared, and they popped up on an indie gossip feed this morning.”
Benji clutched at his hair, needing the bad news to stop. One epically stupid mistake had created an avalanche of bad publicity. God, if this ruined the band’s upward trajectory, he’d never forgive himself.
What about Joshua? What if he’s seen the photos? He’ll think it’s some sort of revenge over his kiss with Van.
“I am so sorry, you guys,” Benji said. The gentle throbbing in his head and the roughness in the back of his throat was nothing compared to the pain squeezing his heart.
“Hey, we’re not mad at you,” Andy said. “None of us.”
“You should be. Fuck, what if this hurts our reputation?”
“We aren’t going to throw you under the bus,” Danielle said.
She moved to stand in front of him, her expression sharp.
“The only crime you committed was drinking too much, and that’s not even a crime, so stop feeling guilty.
You don’t remember what that guy did, so how can it be your fault?
You didn’t ask anyone to photograph you and spread it all over the Internet. ”
Benji loved her for those compassionate words, but it was still his own fucking fault for getting hammered in the first place—especially in a public club, an environment he had no control over. At least in Virginia Beach, Van had been there as a stable, sober support person.
I wish he were here now.
That startling thought made his belly swoop in a weird way. No, he didn’t want Van. He wanted Joshua. Joshua would make it all seem less awful—after he pitched a fit over Benji putting himself in that position in the first place.
Is it cheating if you don’t remember doing it?
“Damn it,” Benji said. “I need to call Joshua before he finds out from someone else.” He wanted to call his parents, too, mostly to get some moral support.
They followed his career though the Fading Daze website, and a few social media pages, and he couldn’t imagine his mom’s reaction to photos of him being groped by a stranger in a gay club.
“You want privacy?” Danielle asked.
Benji nodded. “You guys mind?”
No one minded. After a few minutes, the room cleared out of everyone except Benji and his bruised heart.
His phone was starting to die, so he plugged it in, and then plunked down on the carpet near the outlet.
Morbidly curious, he plugged his name and Fading Daze into a browser to search. See what kind of damage he’d done.
A few hits on their performance last night, but it took a little digging to find the Instagram pictures.
At least they weren’t coming up in the top ten hits yet.
That was bare consolation once he saw the pictures, though.
Three of them, seemingly taken in succession.
The lighting wasn’t great, and in the first one his face was obscured, but you could clearly see the aggressor’s hand down his pants.
The next one made Benji want to barf, because the other guy had started kissing his neck, leaving Benji’s face turned toward the picture-taker.
Crystal clear, and he abhorred how much he seemed to be enjoying himself.
The third showed him tilting his face back toward the unknown guy in his arms, seemingly preparing to eat his face.
A chill spread throughout Benji’s body. Words were one thing, but there was a reason why people started saying “pictures or it didn’t happen.” This was physical proof of what he’d done.
His phone lit up with Joshua’s picture. He was already calling.
“Fuck my life.” Benji braced himself for angry words, and then answered the call. “Hey.”
“Jesus, Ben, are you okay?” Joshua asked, the mad panic in his voice confusing Benji.
“I don’t think so.” The question was so odd, though, that he wasn’t sure if Joshua had seen the pictures, or if he thought something else was wrong.
“Lincoln saw the pictures online this morning, and he showed them to me. Christ, I want to hunt down that handsy prick and snap his balls off.”
Benji stared at a small stain on the opposite wall. “You aren’t mad at me?”
“For what? Getting drunk? No, I’m not mad about that.
Some asshole put his hands on you when you couldn’t consent, and I need to know if you’re okay.
” Joshua sounded so incredibly upset and helpless that Benji’s mind flashed to him as a ten year-old kid, unable to say no to an adult he trusted, and carrying that invisible scar for the rest of his life.
Of course Joshua wouldn’t be mad at Benji.
“Hey, I’m okay,” Benji said. “I don’t remember it at all, and I hate that I got blackout drunk, but I’m okay. Mostly I’m worried about the gossip and if this could hurt the band.”
“I don’t give a shit about the band right now, Ben. I care about you.”
“I know, and I love you for that. I wanted to call you first and explain what happened, but I overslept, and then I had a killer hangover. Danielle and the guys were great, though. They’ve got my back, whatever the fallout.”
“So do I.”
“I know you do. More than anyone else, I’m kind of pissed at the guy who took the photos and posted them. But I guess that’s what happens when you front three sets, and then go mix it up with the locals.”
“People can be assholes.”
“So true.
“So how do you think this will play out?”
“I have no idea.” Benji pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maybe nothing will come of it, but with social media, it’s only a matter of time before rumors start. Probably Eddie will have me make a statement on our site owning up to the mistake, saying you and me are solid.”
Joshua’s voice audibly caught. “Are we? Solid?”
They hadn’t really settled Benji’s feelings over Joshua’s kiss with Van.
In light of Benji’s current situation, he couldn’t find any more anger over it.
Joshua had blindly supported Benji today, when he had every right to see it as a betrayal, or revenge.
“Yes, we’re solid. I forgive you for kissing Van. ”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’m not sure I was ever mad, exactly. Mostly confused and disappointed, but it’s not as if he had his hand down your pants.”
Joshua growled. “Not funny.”
“It’s kind of funny.”
“Someone who isn’t me had his hand on your dick, Ben. It’s not funny.”
Another wave of guilt hit Benji hard. “Sorry.” On the heels of that guilt came a small splash of fear, because Joshua was right.
He’d gotten himself into a bad situation that could have been much, much worse if he hadn’t had such good friends nearby to get him out of it.
“I think I owe Dani flowers. She’s the one who rescued me from Gropey Guy. ”
“I’ll send some to your next hotel room, courtesy of both of us.”
“Thanks. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“Pissed off an ancient Aztec sun god?”
Benji burst out laughing, grateful for the respite from so much seriousness. “You are such a dork.”
“And proud of it. It’s good to hear you laugh.”
“It’s good to laugh. But I’m not falling to pieces over this anymore. What’s done is done, and all we can do is move forward. From all of it.”
“You’re right. I love you.”
“I love you more. And I still trust you, Josh.”
Joshua sighed. “Thank you.”
“Do you still trust me?”
“I never once stopped. But Benji?”
Benji grinned. “Yeah?”
“The only guy allowed to grope you is me.”
“For the rest of our lives.”
Or for as long as I can keep pretending this thing with Van isn’t real.