Chapter Eight. Adonis by Day, Annoyance by Night
Chapter Eight
Adonis by Day, Annoyance by Night
“ I’m Bhavani,” the stunning staff member introduces themself, and extends a hand to shake mine. “You’re Nat, right?” Bhavani continues.
“
“Natalie.”
They smirk. “Felix told me about you.”
He told them about me? What could he possibly have to say? All he knows is I’m Deaf, I corrupted my integrity for $40,000, and I have pink hair—and he only recently learned two of those things.
“I told them about Aves! You were … incidental,” Felix rushes. “Nat’s my ASL tutor.”
Bhavani casts a suspicious glance in his direction. “Well, it’s nice— —meet you, Nat … alie.”
Bhavani guides Calum into a chair and starts slathering sunscreen onto his suntanned, olive-toned face and neck.
“Felix, Will, your outfits— —always fire. Lachlan, Mateo, you need to change— —something more DAYDREAM-y. And bring Cal clothes, please!” Bhavani calls as the pair obediently slink down the hall.
Part of me knows celebrity images are curated, but seeing it in real life feels like I’m being let in on an industry secret.
Nothing is inherently wrong with Lachlan’s vintage David Bowie T-shirt and black skinny jeans or Mateo’s shirt with a cartoon drum kit that reads IF YOU HIT MY DRUMS THERE’LL BE REPERCUSSIONS, but they’re definitely a departure from the boyish, and usually designer, outfits DAYDREAM are pictured in online.
“What music video are you filming?” I ask.
“We’re taking— —bunch of clips— —different cities— — make a tour montage as a thank-you to our fans,” Felix answers. “Dunno what song we’ll use yet.”
“Hopefully a new one, if— —approves!” Calum singsongs.
“That’s cool. But you guys don’t have a social media manager?” I ask.
“The label offers ‘suggestions,’ but we film— —upload everything ourselves. We’re basically singers, models, brand ambassadors— —influencers,” Felix explains with a frown.
“That’s … a lot,” I say.
“You’re telling me,” Will chimes in, dabbing dog drool off his white-and-black-striped button-up shirt. “Two months ago, they wouldn’t— —release our new single, ‘Cloud 9,’ until— — ten different videos with over a million likes using— — sound bite.”
Before I can reply, Lachlan and Mateo reappear in different outfits. Lachlan throws a pair of long jean shorts and a green GIVENCHY T-shirt at Calum.
“You had to pick the jorts?” he groans in protest, then disappears into what I assume to be a bathroom to change.
Lachlan sits down and opens his Notes app. “Let’s make today efficient. What videos— —popular right now?”
The way he’s taking charge and organizing everyone, it feels like he could be DAYDREAM’s manager, rather than Necktie. Lachlan gives me Dad Friend vibes, someone who knows how to handle each of the boys.
Their speech fades into background noise as they discuss day-in-the-life videos. A dull headache thumps against my skull, and I recognize it as oncoming auditory fatigue—debilitating exhaustion that stems from listening for long stretches.
The only time I had to deal with auditory fatigue before was during mainstream high school.
It wasn’t often, since I focused on my interpreter instead of trying to understand speech.
But after an early flight, the airport mobs, and spending the morning in an apartment filled with Hearing people and auditory overload, it was bound to happen.
I zone out and stare at a corner of the living room where nine guitars, an electric keyboard, and red drums are placed underneath a low-quality, framed picture of the band onstage at a high school dance.
They’re in terribly uncoordinated grunge outfits, holding instruments or microphones, and barefaced with pimples and sad, teenager stubble.
Beside the setup, a small tank houses two orange goldfish oblivious to the mayhem around them.
“Why do you guys have nine guitars?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity.
Immediately, all the boys’ eyes land on me, and I freeze, under the impression I asked something horribly offensive.
Felix chuckles. “Six of ’em— —Cal’s basses. But don’t call a bass a guitar around him. Ever.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Just trust me. No guitar talk with Cal, OK?” he signs the last word, and I flash an “OK” back, still confused.
I spend a few more minutes spaced out, but I’m drawn out of it when Felix finishes getting beautified and gently places a hand on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he signs, concern etched on his features.
“I’m overwhelmed,” I admit.
He repeats the sign, arcing both hands over his head. He flicks an index finger by his ear and shakes his head, “I don’t understand.”
“O-V-E-R-W-H-E-L-M-E-D,” I form each letter slowly.
“Sorry. I don’t understand,” he repeats before hanging his head. Long, blond locks fall in front of his face and hide his embarrassment.
Before I can re-engage him, we’re being herded down to the parking garage by three bodyguards, including Sunglasses.
Our group is split between two SUVs. Lachlan, Felix, Ginger, and I are in one, the other members in another.
Sunglasses and a second bodyguard sit in the front of our vehicle; I sit in the middle of the back seat, Felix on my right and Lachlan on my left.
I place my backpack on my lap and move my feet to create room for Ginger.
Sunglasses pulls out of the parking garage, and I have to shield my eyes. The bright sun is decidedly unhelpful for my growing headache.
Lachlan extends a pair of DOLCE & GABBANA sunglasses toward me. “Thanks,” I sign.
While we’re stuck in traffic, I Google pet stores in Miami so I can buy dog food there. Felix glances at my screen before rooting around in his fanny pack and eventually emerges with Post-it notes. He scribbles something mostly unintelligible, but I make out “dog” before he shoves the pad back in.
After fifteen minutes, he pokes my knee. “ASL … I learn … A-V-A…” he fumbles the signs. “If I learn ASL signs … damn it,” he bites, frustration coloring his usually upbeat tone.
“You can voice,” I sign slowly. The car is quiet and we’re so close, having a verbal conversation will be easier.
“There are some specific things I wanna learn. Like how to tell Aves about my music stuff and ask her how her tennis tournaments go or what school drama is happening. I dunno. Conversational stuff.”
“My first suggestion is to never get involved in middle school drama,” I reply using SimCom.
He laughs. “But sure. I can tailor your lessons to include relevant topics. You actually remembered quite a bit, so we can skip straight to Lesson Four, so read up to chapter three. We’ll focus on fingerspelling first.”
Even when he attended the occasional lesson with his family, his fingerspelling was abysmal, but he’s clearly in need of a refresher.
“You’re reading an ASL book?” Lachlan interjects. “Isn’t that hard with your—”
“No, no, it’s no biggie,” Felix cuts him off. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But you really stru—”
“It’s fine, Lach,” Felix enunciates in a voice more forceful than I’ve heard from him, shutting the conversation down.
The energy becomes uncomfortably tense. My focus shifts between them, curious about why Felix snapped and why Lachlan turned away from us, choosing to stare out the window, frustration visible on his face.
The interaction leaves my mind as we park at a beach. Outside, Calum immediately strips out of his shirt. Bhavani rushes after him, shoves his discarded shirt into their backpack, and fixes his tousled hair.
“You and the dog can hang here.” Felix places a towel on the sand for me before joining his bandmates by a beach volleyball net.
I sit on the towel, and Ginger suspiciously noses the sand and glances at me, eyes alight with curiosity.
I reach over and remove her vest so she can enjoy the beach off-duty.
Neither of us has been to a beach like this before.
Most beaches back home are full of rocks rather than the soft, sandy ones in movies.
She starts rolling around, and sand sticks to her fur.
I chuckle when I imagine getting sand all over their penthouse when I brush her later.
While Ginger happily digs holes, I grab my sketchbook.
My pencil moves across an empty page, and soon a rough sketch of the tranquil waves and fluffy clouds appear in my book.
Pops of red and yellow from towels and swimsuits and strokes of green from lively palm trees beautifully complement the array of blues.
I’ve always been drawn to art. Maybe it’s because Deaf culture is rich in artistic expression or because my first language is a visual one, rooted in movement and physical storytelling. Either way, my sketchbook is an escape for me. My happy place.
While shading a wave, I glance to where the boys are filming with a GoPro. They’re laughing and running around while playing a game of beach volleyball that seems to be driving Calum up a wall, since nobody follows the rules he’s shouting at them.
After the game, the boys pull new swim trunks over their current pairs, and Bhavani changes their hairstyles.
In the sand, Calum shows Felix how to distribute his body weight on a surfboard. Will squats, stands on his toes, and even lies down to get the perfect angle as he films them on his phone, presumably for one of the TikToks.
If I didn’t know otherwise (and if we’re ignoring the fans who’ve surrounded them and the bodyguards keeping them away), I would’ve never guessed these guys were stars.
As they squabble like best friends, film goofy clips of themselves, and splash seawater on each other, they seem like completely normal boys. Well, as normal as teenage boys can be.