19. Unhappily Ever After
19
UNHAPPILY EVER AFTER
Gabriel
I wake up from a deep sleep. I don't know what woke me up. It wasn’t a bad dream and nothing around me seems an obvious source of disturbance. I glance at the clock and groan. It’s only five a.m.!
Six more hours until your big gay press conference , my subconscious adds helpfully.
I groan a second time. I don't want to do this! It's not like I'm even gay. Worse, I'm still clueless about what to say. Last night Elisabeth and I sat together for hours hammering countless politically correct answers into my brain. None of it seems to fit me, but what else am I supposed to say?
What would the press say if I turned up at the conference and simply said, “I gave a guy a blow job. He gave me one. It was good. Bye.”
My thinking hasn’t progressed beyond that.
Not true! my subconscious adds, shooting me a sequence of images for good measure.
Images of Magnus. His challenging smile just before he teased me. Him throwing his head back and his tinkling laughter ringing out. Him talking intently with Klaus about some new form of gene therapy that’s incomprehensible to me.
My stomach tingles pleasantly as these memories pass before my mind’s eye. And none of them have anything to do with sex. There's something that goes way beyond that for Magnus and me. It has right from the start. But now isn’t the time!
I push the memories aside and swing my legs out of bed. Lying here is pointless. I’m not getting back to sleep anytime soon.
Ever since the first pics of Magnus and me were released, my cell phone has been permanently lit up like a Christmas tree. Now, I’m used to ignoring it. I have all notifications on mute, and for the time being, I pretend it simply doesn't exist.
Walking into the living room, I'm surprised to find someone else is awake at this godforsaken hour too. Hovenberg is sitting on the comfortable ratan settee out on the terrace.
I hesitate. Nico and I developed quite a good relationship during our time on the national team. I had actively sought him out — it was one of my duties as co-captain of the team after all. But we’ve never been exactly close.
Now he’s with Daniel, though, and getting ready to tell the world about it today. This isn’t a storm-in-a-teacup kind of thing. The press interest in them will be intense and persistent. And Daniel is one of my closest friends.
I grab a cup of coffee and step out onto the terrace. Hovenberg turns around, surprised. He probably wasn’t expecting anyone else to be awake this early either.
"Morning," I say a little stiffly.
His clear blue eyes stare into mine. His hair is so light blond it seems white, and with his finely cut features no one could deny he’s a handsome guy. Not my type, though.
Since when do I gauge a guy’s attractiveness? And since when do I have “a type”? I think before another image of Magnus rises before my mind’s eye.
"Can't sleep either?" asks Hovenberg, interrupting my thoughts, thank god!
I shake my head and sit down on a chair. "I still don't know what to say today." The confession slips out of my mouth unintentionally.
"Not to knock your confidence, but you probably won't need to say much at all."
I look at him in surprise.
"As I said, no offense, but Daniel is much bigger news than you ... or me," Hovenberg concludes with an apologetic smile.
For a moment, the sentence hangs between us. But he’s right!
Sheer relief washes over me. There will be some media coverage of me in Terengia and Sweden, of course, but Daniel will be the first player in the NHL to be openly bisexual. I’ll be a footnote to most of that coverage. That thought didn't occur to me at any point yesterday when we were talking things through. I’ll be forever in Daniel's debt.
My gaze wanders back to Hovenberg. His eyes twinkle with amusement. I have the feeling he knows exactly what thoughts are running through my head right now. Since when has he been this perceptive? And why have I never noticed this about him before?
As he seems to know what I'm thinking anyway, I steer the conversation his way.
"Are you nervous?"
Hovenberg turns pale.
"You don't have to do this," I say gently. Although it's an empty suggestion. Daniel will mention who he's with, so whether Hovenberg is alongside him today or not, he won’t escape attention.
"Yes, I do," Hovenberg says firmly. He hesitates for a moment, but continues, "I can't tell you what it would have meant, when I was growing up, to have an openly gay player to look up to. Someone to give me a window on what life could be like when I dared to be myself. I owe it to all the teenagers out there now who felt the way I did back then."
There is so much pain but also so much determination behind these words that I’m speechless.
What have you been through, Nico? I’m forced to wonder.
We spent our entire youth together. We went to the same school, played against or with each other in ice hockey teams, and until today, I had no clue about what he might have been living with all those years.
It certainly puts my problems into perspective. Maybe this damn interview won’t be so bad after all. If I'm messed up about what I’m feeling right now, how are teenagers coping, especially with all those raging hormones?
No matter how ambivalent I feel about being a role model for queer athletes, after Nico's words, I see why it's necessary at least.
Then Nico says, "And most of all, I owe it to myself!" The defiance, the courage, and determination in his tone is palpable. And my respect for my former teammate soars.
Magnus
New day, new city.
I walk listlessly behind Susan and Klaus. I’m not made for the cruise life. Although my current state of mind doesn’t help.
Last night, I couldn't make a decision about whether to message Gabriel or not.
No decision is also a decision, the voice of my old psychology teacher whispers down the years. Although I never grasped its full meaning until today.
I can’t decide what to do, so Gabriel hasn’t got a message from me.
Was that right?
Was that wrong?
I don't know.
My guilty conscience about not checking in with my "friend" is a little soothed by the thought that Gabriel is ignoring Susan’s messages. He probably wants some space.
Or to talk to someone other than his sister, my subconscious inconveniently adds.
We’ve made it to the center of Ilhéus when Susan stops. She was desperate to see the neoclassical S?o Sebasti?o Cathedral, and I’ll reluctantly admit it is impressive.
Although I think we’re the only passengers from the Fascinata who didn't head straight for the gorgeous white sandy beach the city is famous for. I mean, it's only sixty miles of perfect sand, sea, and sky, how could that possibly be better than some old cathedral? Sheesh!
My mood must be at rock bottom because normally I don't mind a bit of sightseeing. Especially when I’m with Susan because she's always so enthusiastic about everything we visit and scouts out the best routes and tips. Plus, it’s a nice change from lying around the pool all the time.
After we’ve looked in every nook and cranny S?o Sebasti?o has to offer and taken countless photos, Susan takes us to a small café in the shadow of the cathedral. We order Cafézinho, the national drink of Brazil, which tastes like sweet espresso. As we sip from the tiny cups the drink comes in, her restraint evaporates.
"You didn't contact him." It's not a question. She knows me far too well. "If you don't want to message him — fine! But if that’s your choice, for god's sake stop moping."
Damn, that hit home. My gaze dips to the round table and I fight back tears. A hand gently rests on mine — it’s Susan's.
Her voice is soft as she continues, "I don't know what happened between you and my brother. I thought you both seemed so happy."
I shrug. I don't know either. If you’d asked me before he left, I'd have said we were happy, too. But since then, I've had to face the truth that it was all an illusion. I was available. We were both horny. The chance of anyone recognizing Gabriel was minimal. So why not take a trip to the wild side?
"You know Ilhéus has an airport," Klaus adds with a hint of encouragement his voice.
"You could surprise Gabriel," Susan adds.
Woah, yeah, what a great idea! If I can’t even work out what to say to Gabriel in a measly text message, how would it go down if I were to rock up to his place and shout, Sorry I ruined your life ?
But then how could they possibly understand what it would be like to rush after a guy who made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with me.
I shake my head firmly. Susan takes a deep breath, probably to argue, but is interrupted by the beeping of her cell phone. I catch the display out of the corner of my eye and it shows a notification from Gabriel's management team. She taps on it and then paraphrases the message for Magnus and me.
“Apparently, Gabriel, Daniel Miller, and Nico Hovenberg are giving a joint press conference.” I hold my breath as Susan presses the attached link.
Gabriel
Daniel and Nico enter the room first and I follow, my hands balled into fists to disguise the fact they’re shaking slightly. The others are getting settled on their chairs as I reach for my water bottle and down half of it in one go. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Elisabeth’s worried look, and I try to smile reassuringly at her. I’m not sure it works.
The three of us are sitting front and center while Daniel’s head coaches and my team sit at the either side. After some empty rhetoric from the L.A. Kings' press officer, Daniel’s coach takes over. I only get half of what he says, but he seems to be doing a good job. The mood is relaxed — there are even a few laughs. Then Daniel starts speaking, but his voice is drowned out by a buzzing in my ears that’s getting louder.
I have to get out of here! But I can't. I can't just jump up and run out. So, I stay put, fight down a wave of nausea, and wait my turn.
Then I hear my name called and my breath catches in my throat.
"... in those exciting pictures. Do you want to tell us a little bit about your boyfriend?"
No! That’s the last thing I want to do! I mentally scream. And my boyfriend? Magnus is not my boyfriend.
I take a deep breath and try to sound confident. "You know how it is. Sometimes you meet someone and you just … hit it off. We had fun."
All eyes are on me. Cameras are clicking. I can feel a bead of sweat running down my back.
Did I say the right thing? I wonder.
That wasn't one of the lines we’d practiced, but my brain has gone blank. I can't remember any of the statements Elisabeth drilled into me yesterday.
"A lot of the pictures show you dancing with each other. Do you want to tell us anything about that?" the same reporter asks.
Somehow, I manage to squeeze out a laugh. It sounds a bit unnatural to me, but convincing enough to others, and at least this question is reasonably easy to answer.
"That’s my sister for you. She signed us up for a tango course without asking us first." I realize I’ve just thrown Susan to the wolves.
It gets a laugh from the room, though, and I see a few heads nodding in understanding. I'm not the only one who has interfering siblings in their lives, obviously.
"Family ..." the reporter replies with a broad grin and a shrug, before turning serious again. "Did you always know you were bi?"
Am I actually bi, though? That's the million-dollar question. If I just say “yes,” this could soon be over. Instead, I fail to stick to the script again.
"Sometimes you meet a person you just hit it off ..." I lamely repeat.
"So, you would describe yourself as pansexual?”
The question stumps me. I’ve never heard that term before! I know what the letters in LGBTQIA+ stand for, but there’s no P in there. Maybe that’s what the + is for, but I’m clueless. My shirt is now sticking to my back with sweat, and I have no idea what to say.
Daniel seems to realize I'm floundering and distracts the reporters from me with an off-the-cuff statement that has something to do with labels, although I don’t catch the details. I doubt I'll ever be able to pay off this level of debt to him.
For a second time, I reach for the water bottle in front of me and drain what’s left. Hopefully the press conference will be over soon!
"No!" Daniel's tone focuses my attention. "You need to listen better."
One of the reporters looks stunned while the others are scribbling notes furiously or finger-tapping their note apps.
"For a start, it's not funny at all that the first three gay hockey players to come out are from the small country of Terengia," Daniel continues. "And secondly, it's not true. Only one of us is gay. As I said — listen up!"
Daniel is starting to get mad, and I'm not sure that's a good thing. My gaze wanders to Elisabeth, but she has her hands clasped in front of her chest and is smiling. So, at least one of us is happy at how this press conference is going.
"And actually, we are far from the only ice hockey players from the LGBTQIA+ community. Have you heard of the Los Angeles Blades? It's a team based right here. They were the first openly queer hockey team in the U.S. Do you know when it was founded? Back in the 1980s. So, no, we're not the ‘first’!"
The reporter who must have asked the question opens his mouth to say something else, but Daniel raises his hand and keeps talking.
"I know, I know ... Now you're going to say you meant 'the only professional hockey players,' but think about it. The Los Angeles Blades, as well as teams like them, were created to provide a safe environment for LGBTQIA+ hockey players to pursue their passion. And that safe space is needed.
“During my first year of college here in America, I sweated blood at the thought of what my peers would say if they found out I wasn't straight.
“Our home country of Terengia, like some other Northern European countries, protected the rights of LGBTQIA+ people way before lots of other places. So our youth team coaches made sure that no homophobic or racist expressions were used. I felt safe. I could be myself. But lots of people in too many countries don’t have that protection — even now. That’s why you’re sitting across from three Terengian hockey players today. It’s no coincidence."
Daniel's impassioned speech gets a smattering of applause while my mind turns over what he’s said. Is he right? Was it easier for us in Terengia than it would have been elsewhere? Having only discovered a few days ago that I'm maybe not as straight as I thought, I'm having a hard time feeling privileged.
And Daniel’s portrayal is a little rose-tinted. There were homophobic comments on the ice or in the locker room. Hell, I think I even shouted "faggot" at a friend once or twice. We were all young once, and we thought it would make us seem tough.
He got one thing right, though. Our trainers and schoolteachers went ballistic if they caught you doing it. My lungs still burn when I think of the penalty laps we’d have to do. Not that it solved the problem. Because hatred doesn't start in school, it starts in families. You only have to look at Nico to know that Terengia is not heaven on earth for all LGBTQIA+ people, even though it’s better than other places in the world.