Chapter 27 Alexander #2
Lucy hands me the impressive plaque. It’s a photograph of me standing on stage, the sold-out crowd from Madison Square Garden behind me, with all the incredible stats Paul listed underneath.
I place the plaque down on the bar and quickly hug Paul and Lucy before turning to everyone.
“I’m not big on speeches, as many of you know,” I say.
“But I just want to take a moment to thank each and every one of you for all the hard work you’ve put in over the past year to bring this show to life.
It takes a village to raise a child, and many of you here have literally helped to raise me.
Not only into an adult, but up through the stage and out into the crowd.
” I nod at the toaster-lift operator as I grab a Fuji water from the bar.
“You are my heroes. You are the ones who help to bring my dreams to life every night on stage, and I can’t thank you all enough for everything you do. ”
“Alex, Alex, Alex,” the crew chants as I wrap my speech up and hold my water up in the air.
It feels wholesome being surrounded by everyone. My parents look on, my mom clutching her hand over her heart while my dad’s arm is thrown over her shoulder. Connie and Laurie toast each other with their drinks.
My eyes well up, but I blink it away and take a sip of water.
I’ve done it.
I’ve made it through the tour, despite all the hurdles.
I let out a deep breath.
Now I can head back home to America. Switch off and just be Al for a minute.
“How you feeling, kiddo?” my dad asks when he reaches me, ruffling my hair.
“Exhausted. I just wanna get back to the hotel.”
“You don’t fancy another night at that Box nightclub?” He lifts his brows.
“Not on my watch,” my mum interjects, whacking him. “Let’s get you back, son.” My dad rolls his eyes as she loops her arm into mine, and I nod to Rob.
I feel a bit guilty for slipping out, but I’ve said my bit and spoken to most people in the room. Plus, this wrap party is more for them than me. And right now, there’s somewhere else I’d rather be.
It’s almost 12:30 a.m. by the time I make it back to the hotel. Rob calls ahead to make sure there’s extra security at the back door so I can get inside quickly and straight to where I want to be—with Christopher.
As much as I enjoyed the last show, my mind was back here with Christopher. I dreamed of us in each other’s arms, gliding across the dance floor while the music played.
Christopher had said he’d wait for me when I texted that we were en route to the hotel, but my fans ambushed the car when we left the arena. It took Rob calling the security from the venue to clear the way, and it delayed us by half an hour.
Rob follows me into the ballroom, but the room is vacant. Empty glasses of wine and champagne sit alongside half drunk bottles of beer on the tables. The DJ booth is already packed down; someone left their blazer hanging over the back of one of the chairs.
I reach for my phone and call Christopher, wondering if he’s already back in the room, when I hear a ringtone coming from another suit jacket, this one hanging from the back of the chair he was sitting at earlier.
Hmm.
I hang up my phone and make my way over.
He can’t have gone that far without his jacket.
Rob offers to head back out to the main entrance of the ballroom to look around, while I sit down in Christopher’s seat.
I pick up an unused fork and cut into a slice of wedding cake, left untouched on a small plate.
The sponge and strawberry jam and cream gives me a sugar rush as soon as I take the first bite.
“There he is,” I hear Christopher call out, arms wide, as he enters the room.
Rob laughs behind him as Christopher stumbles through the tables toward me, looking slightly worse for wear. His bowtie hangs down on either side of his collar, right above his unbuttoned waistcoat.
“Sorry I took so long to get here,” I say, getting up from the table. I feel a little underdressed in my black jeans, white vans, and white T-shirt.
“No worries. I had to put my mother to bed. She was all over the place by the end of the night.” He rests his hand on the table when he finally reaches me before planting a wet kiss on my lips.
Rob glances at me and I give him the thumbs-up before shooing him out of the room. I want a moment alone with Christopher, just us two.
“How was your last show?” he asks, grabbing my hand. He pulls me to the dance floor.
“It was good,” I say, nodding at the back of his head.
“Only good?” His face scrunches up when he turns to face me.
“Well, I’d rather have been here with you, if I’m honest. I was thinking about dancing with you, and I’d hoped I’d get a moment with you tonight, but it seems we’re out of luck.” I nod at where the DJ setup was.
“Fear not.” Christopher raises his finger. “I have the answer.”
He dashes back over to his chair, waving his phone in his hand as he returns. He types something on the screen before he places it on a table next to the dance floor.
“Sir,” he says, bowing. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” He stretches his hand out toward me.
My chest feels like a shaken soda can—too much fizz—nowhere for it to go.
I reach for his hand as he extends his other to press play on his phone.
“Let me be your hero,” he whispers in my ear as the opening line of Enrique Iglesias’s Hero plays. I rest my head on his shoulder as he tenderly holds my sprained hand in his. His other arm goes across my back.
I soak in each moment as we gently glide across the dance floor.
Our feet move slowly in time; the sound of his heartbeat is soft in my ear.
My chest rises and falls in unison with his.
He spins me outward, as the song hits the instrumental part, before rolling me back in, catching me in his arms and leaning in to kiss me. The taste of lime is on his lips.
I tilt my head backward as he holds me, and decide I could get lost in his arms, in those hazel eyes, forever. He pulls me back up and in for another kiss, but I jolt as I hear a creaking sound behind us, snapping me out of the moment.
In a panic, I look at the door I came in through, but it remains closed. I know that Rob is outside guarding it, so no one can enter, but paranoia still creeps into my head.
“Did you hear that?” I ask Christopher.
“Hear what?” he asks, turning back toward me.
I shake my head. It must be my ears playing tricks on me, or maybe it’s the tinnitus.
I lean back into Christopher, placing my head back on his shoulder, and for a moment I let myself dream of a life where we can be just two guys dancing together and no one bats an eyelid or makes a fuss.
As the last line of the song plays, Christopher slows to a standstill, grabbing my face in his hands and singing along with the last line. He goes in to kiss me, before stopping himself. His shoulders and chest jerk and a pale look comes over his face.
He lets go of me and runs toward the table, but stops just short and vomits all over one of the chairs. He reaches for a napkin to wipe himself clean before turning back to me.
“Come on,” I say, heading over to him. “Let’s get you back to the room.”
I help him to the door and pick up another napkin, just in case he goes for round two. It’s nice not to be the one who’s a hot mess for a change.
Another hour has passed by the time we get ready for bed. Rob had to call on local security to help us back to my room, to avoid any suspicion. And Christopher takes an extra-long shower before I jump in after him.
“God, your fans are extra loud tonight,” Christopher says, drawing the curtains closed before climbing into bed with me.
“Here, put these on,” I say, giving him my earbuds from the bedside table.
He grabs them, letting out a yawn as he puts them in.
“I’m going to set my alarm for eleven. That works for you, right?” I scroll down through the alarms I have stored, and switch on the appropriate one.
“My flight is at three,” he says, snuggling down into the pillow.
I turn and plug my phone into the charger, switching off the lamp before turning back and snuggling into him. For once, I’m the big spoon to his little spoon. I breathe in the scent of his hair and wonder how I got here.
I had almost given up on everything.
Then Christopher came along like the breaking of dawn, brightening the darkest of days.
“Thank you for saving me,” I whisper into his ear.
The soft exhale of his breath tells me that he’s already fallen asleep.
I roll back slightly, letting go so I can study him. I try to memorize every detail, the mole on his back, the curvature of his spine. The way his hair falls naturally to the left. I take a mental snapshot, wanting to remember this moment, before rolling back up against him.
“Thank you,” I say again, kissing the back of his head.