Chapter 9 #2
He plays the introduction, and I do my best to sell the song they want me to perform. That I’ve chosen to sing. Once I’m done, I sit in my plastic chair and Gabby goes up to work with Marty.
‘What’s going on? Why have you changed your song?’ Zeb whispers to me.
‘Just … thought it was for the best.’ I’ve chosen pleasing Marty, which means disappointing Zeb. I’ve only just about convinced myself though, so I don’t think I have a winning argument to change Zeb’s opinion yet.
‘Why though?’ Zeb continues, but a sharp look from Marty shuts him up, and he doesn’t push it again while we’re in rehearsals.
I dash off once we’re sent on break, to avoid any further questioning.
I’m filling up my water bottle in the kitchen, in my own little world, when there’s a touch on my back. 156
‘Tarun?’ I ask when I turn and find him tapping nervously on his thigh. ‘Are you alright?’
‘I need to chat with you please. In private.’
‘Okay,’ I say, and he doesn’t wait a second longer to leave the kitchen, making me follow him through the corridors.
‘Olly? Where are you going?’ Zeb asks as I head straight past him in the corridor.
‘Sorry! Tarun needs to chat about something.’
‘We need to talk about what’s going on with your song.’
‘Not right now, okay?’ I say, spotting Tarun a few metres ahead of me.
I follow him to the left and into the secret Studio Seven toilet, leaving Zeb’s display of consternation behind. After I’ve entered, Tarun locks the door behind us.
We’re not on top of each other, but the small bathroom pulls us the closest together we’ve been since his panic attack. He’s not in the same state as he was then, but his hands are trembling and he’s focusing hard on his breathing.
‘Just … give me a minute,’ he says between inhales and exhales. I wait, not certain whether it’s more polite to give him eye contact and encouragement or privacy.
The shaking of his hands subsides, and he looks up at me. ‘Okay. Oisín said he apologised to you. Is that right?’
‘Umm, yeah. When we spoke outside this morning. Has something happened?’157
He nods, looking down at the floor. ‘I need to tell you something.’
‘Okay?’ I ask, wondering what could have made him so concerned. He’s not worried about my reaction to something, is he? If Oisín has already started playing games with him…
‘I hadn’t said anything, because of whatever happened between you two last year – he says you had a crush on him, you say that’s not the truth – I dunno but … Oisín and I made out at the after-show party for Les Mis.’
My stomach lurches. I expected pretty much anything but that. ‘Oh?’
He still doesn’t look up at me, focusing on the toilet behind me. ‘It was just a tipsy fumble in the garden late at night, and that was like two months ago, and then we hadn’t seen each other between then and the competition starting. So, I wasn’t sure if he liked me the way I like him but…’
I stop hearing his next words. He likes Oisín. He’s kissed Oisín. The literal trademarked ideal leading man. If that’s Tarun’s type, I’ve got no chance.
How could I have got my hopes up that he might like me back? Of course, he’s going to fancy the hot, muscly dancer rather than me.
‘…but he thinks our kiss was good and that he likes me, and I just … I never thought this would happen to me!’158
‘You’ve always liked him?’ I ask, needing to know.
‘Aye … I mean, he’s literally Marius. How could you not? I didn’t think he even knew who I was, or hated me for being his understudy, but then his lips were on mine and … well I thought I’d fucked it. But now he’s saying we should pursue it. What do you think I should do?’
I swallow. ‘Why are you asking me? I don’t know anything about dealing with boys!’
He laughs, finally looking up at me. ‘It was either you or my mum. Your advice will be better than hers; I know it. You’re the one friend I can ask about … gay stuff.’
And there’s the word. ‘Friend’. It’s one I should be grateful for: it’s a massive win from where we started the week.
But with it comes the crushing realisation that the boy you like isn’t even thinking of you as an option.
And you want to be happy for him, that all his dreams are coming true, while dealing with the fact he’s – unknowingly – putting a dampener on your own.
But I can’t let my feelings for Tarun, and baggage with Oisín, ruin this for him.
Oisín kissed Tarun before they even knew they’d be competing against each other, which I take solace in.
It tells my brain that I can’t run away with notions that Oisín is only pretending to like Tarun to get ahead in the competition.
It feels wrong, but Tarun knows what he wants.
Oisín. All I can be now is a good friend. 159
Tarun
‘I’m happy for you,’ says Olly, after what feels like never-ending silence. ‘You must be made up.’
I scan the locked bathroom to make sure there’s no one lurking.
‘I mean… It’s just a bit much for my head. Like, it was one thing to kiss him, but now, to talk to him, flirt with him… There’s so much I don’t know about him! And I know he’s not perfect… Look at what he was saying about you.’
Olly considers his reply, taking a second. ‘Forget about that. That’s just the competition… If he says he likes you, let this be your chance to get to know the real him.’
He has such a kind heart. ‘You think?’
‘You might as well. Not every day someone you fancy comes knocking.’
‘Aye, but how? I can’t ask him on a date, can I? Bring him a rose when we have our sandwiches at lunch? There’re finalists around all the time, and I can’t deal with all the attention if people find out that I’m gay… That I like him.’
He clamps his teeth onto his bottom lip, deep in thought again. ‘I could swap my ticket for the show tonight with Oisín, so the two of you can sit together. A mini date, if you will?’160
‘You’d do that?’
‘Sure!’ he says, smiling broadly, but it’s not as easy as the normal grin he gives me. There’s something he’s holding back.
‘Are you certain?’
‘You’re my friend, Tarun. If this will make you happy, it’s something I can do easily for you. And what better place for a first post-make-out date than a West End show?’
I step forward and wrap my arms around him. ‘You’re the best.’
It takes him a moment to hug me back, but when he does, it feels warm and safe, my face buried close to the words Merrily We Roll Along printed on the chest of his t-shirt.
‘No problem,’ he says, patting me on the back, and the hug breaks apart as quick as it began, to my disappointment. ‘I should run to my session with Elaine.’
And he goes, his full break taken up with my gay panic, giving me a wave bye once I’ve unlocked the toilet. I’m ignoring the knot of anxiety in my stomach. It’s probably just my crush on Oisín … or the fact that Olly’s not telling me everything. But if he wanted to share, he’d tell me.
I pull out my phone to check if there are any notifications before I head back from break. There is still a steady stream of likes coming in on my photo of the 161Thames from last night, but one notification makes my stomach twist in knots.
Your Mum said you were staying with Nani in London
Didn’t think Nani would let you be out in the centre of town so late though? Keeping your nose clean and not breaking any girls’ hearts, I trust? :P
Dad’s replied privately to the photo, acting like I’m the ladies’ man he wants for a son rather than an anxious, queer mess. How he can be so blind to the truth gives me tummy ache. If he knew what I’m really up to in London – that I’m not staying with Nani at all – he’d be fuming.
I shut his messages, more certain I should take up Olly’s offer and push through to see if this really could be something with Oisín.
Mum was right at the start of the week: this is the perfect space, away from Dad and the culture he’s brought me up in, to try being the real me rather than the version he wants me to be.
Back in rehearsal, Oisín’s eyes keep meeting mine all through our session with Marty, and it puts my anxiety at ease. He’s got a good heart, I know it.
At lunch, I wait until he’s by himself, carrying his pre-prepared salad back to the studio.162
‘Hey,’ I say, coming to an awkward stop in front of him, but he grins.
‘Hi, handsome,’ he replies, and I have no choice but to melt.
‘Do you fancy sitting with me at the theatre tonight? Olly’s happy to swap seats with you.’
‘Like a date?’ he asks.
‘I guess, if you’d like?’
‘I would. A lot…’
He steps next to me and kisses me softly on the cheek. The feeling of his lips takes me back to that night in Rachel Quigley’s garden. The way he kissed me … touched me… Like I might be worthy of his attention and attraction.
Maybe after tonight, I’ll get to feel that again. I’m going on a date with fecking Oisín McIlhenny!