Chapter 15
Afew days have passed. On Sunday, the Dusty Brooms played a small, private, acoustic concert for Maurice’s birthday in his hotel room.
At their new hotel in Marquette, Dennis actually booked a presidential suite for himself and Maurice this time, as a birthday present for the photographer, and so that the band could have more space for their little private party.
Gene could see Maurice was having fun, but he often mentioned how he wished Kenneth were there.
Gene remembered Kenneth as Maurice’s best friend, the model who was in his school project photos.
He even noticed Maurice on the phone a few times throughout the night, possibly calling Kenneth or someone else he was close to, like a girlfriend.
Today, on Tuesday, the Dusty Brooms play a show for their tour at the Lakeview Arena in Marquette.
They perform well for the most part, but Gene has been feeling strange ever since Ray got together with Carol.
It made him a bit hesitant to even get close to Ray, staying a bit further away from him while on stage, only coming near when he needed to sing the harmony.
And when he does, their faces so close to each other, singing into the same mic, no matter what, no matter fucking what, his cheeks burn up, and butterflies flutter in his chest. Even when he’s upset with Ray, he can’t shake off that feeling.
But such a sensation conflicts with his thoughts.
It makes him a little uncomfortable, and once the chorus is over, he strums the rhythm, walking to the back of the stage more towards Pat and her drum kit.
He even turns his back to Ray, facing Pat, letting the beat flow through him, focusing on nothing but the music.
Yes, all I need is the music. Help me forget. Just let me feel the groove.
Once the set and encore are over, the crowd screams and cheers.
And just like always, he walks to Ray’s side, Ray grabs his hand, lifts it up, and they bend gracefully in a bow.
But Gene can’t look at Ray’s face. No, the warmth of his hand feels so strange.
He keeps his gaze on the audience. Once Ray lets go, Gene’s quick to unplug his guitar and head off backstage.
Why is Ray acting like nothing happened? When he’s the one who kicked me out?
In the greenroom, Gene hurries to put his guitar back in its case.
Carol is waiting here with some of the venue staff, along with Dennis and Maurice.
Since they’d started rooming together, Gene and Maurice have become closer friends, he’d like to say.
They’ve been talking about things they have in common, like how they both went to the same art school.
He even found out that Maurice can sing and play guitar too, but he’d just never had an interest in joining a band, keeping it merely as a hobby.
“That was a great show, Gene!” a familiar voice catches him from behind. He turns around and sees—it’s Ray.
“Oh, heh, yeah. You sang wonderfully.” He tries to smile, but he knows his expression must look awkward.
“Keep up the good work, man. Alright?” Ray gives him a smile back, and Gene can see that his is genuine. How can he give me such a sweet smile after everything? It twists Gene’s gut. He feels a little nauseous. Maybe he’ll ask Maurice if he has any more weed on him.
“Yeah. You too.” He turns away, not wishing to look at Ray any longer. He knows what’ll happen next: Ray will be off to say hello to Carol with that too-sweet voice of his, wrapping his loving arms around her and giving her a sloppy, passionate kiss. He’d rather not witness that.
But yet another voice comes up, shortly after Ray walks away. “Hey Gene, everything alright?” It’s Santiago.
“Yeah, I’m alright.” He looks up, chuckling a little to himself as he sees how Santi’s bushy mustache is in a desperate need of a trim. “You played great, man. Your solo on ‘Wild Girls’ was far-out.”
“Thanks, Gene.” Santiago itches the back of his head, messing up his curly black hair. “But I’m really asking you, as I noticed you played a little differently today. Are you sure things are fine between you and Ray?”
Gene’s breath hitches. “Yeah. Didn’t you see, we both said hi just now?”
“But you still haven’t been staying with us in our room, like before.”
“Well, that’s because Carol doesn’t want to be near me. Not because of Ray,” he tells a half-truth.
Santi shrugs. “Well, alright, if you say so.”
“It’s been fine. I’ve been making friends, rooming with Maurice. Right?” he says just as Maurice walks up into their circle.
“Yeah, for sure,” Maurice says, adjusting the strap of the camera around his neck. “You guys want a photo?”
“Oh, the two of us?” Gene asks.
“Yeah, of course!” Maurice chuckles.
“Alright then,” Santiago says.
And so, Gene throws his arm over Santi’s shoulders, Santi does a peace sign with his hand, and Maurice brings his camera to his eye, snapping a shot of the two guitarists.
Back in their hotel room, Gene steps into the bathroom and takes a shower.
He shares this room with Maurice, Dennis, and the roadies, but currently only Maurice is here, on the phone in the bedroom.
He’s not sure where the others went, but they’re probably off exploring the city since it’s their last night before they head out again.
That, or they’re simply drinking in the bar downstairs.
Once Gene is done, he dries off, puts his pajamas on, his earring in, and he brushes his straight, shoulder-length black hair.
He’s not planning on going anywhere else tonight, so he figures he can dress comfortably.
He can hear Maurice’s voice through the door, still on the phone.
It’s a bit funny—he notices Maurice is on the phone every night, though he usually doesn’t catch enough of the conversation to really know who he’s talking to.
Gene steps out of the bathroom, into the bedroom, seeing Maurice sitting on the edge of one of the flower-print beds. He’s holding the phone’s handset up against his ear, twirling the cord slightly with his free hand.
“It just feels so strange being away from you for so long, y’know. And there’s still almost a month left of this trip,” Maurice says into the phone. “I miss you so much.”
Is he… talking to a girlfriend? It sure sounds that way, with the loving tone he’s using to whoever he’s speaking to.
Maurice chuckles a little. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I am still having a lot of fun. I love traveling with these guys.” Gene smiles at that. “But you better be prepared for when I come home. All this time without seeing you… I’m going to ravish you, darling.”
Gene feels his cheeks heat up unexpectedly. Oh, he’s definitely talking to a girlfriend, alright.
Maurice laughs again. “Sorry! Sorry! You know I can’t help myself.” It’s then, there—Maurice looks up, and notices Gene standing by the bathroom door. “Ah, you’re right. I guess I’m not alone. Um… I’ll call you later, alright? I love you, darling.”
Maurice smiles at the phone, listening to the other person on the line, then he hangs it up, placing it back on the receiver on the nightstand.
“That was your girlfriend, huh?” Gene asks, a smirk on his face. “I wasn’t sure if you had one.”
“Oh, uh…” Maurice’s cheeks instantly flush red. He bites the scar on his lower lip, he fidgets with the sleeves of his wool cardigan, and stays quiet for a bit longer than Gene would expect.
“Was that… not actually your girlfriend, then?”
“No, it’s not my girlfriend. I don’t have a girlfriend,” Maurice answers that easily.
That makes Gene even more confused. Is it simply someone he’s seeing, that he’s not formally attached to? But he said he loved her; that doesn’t make any sense…
Maurice sighs, long and steady. “I guess I can tell you. I don’t think you or any of the band would judge me for it; you guys seem cool. I figure at one point or another you’ll all find out anyway.”
Gene steps closer, then sits down on the bed next to Maurice, looking up at him. “Yeah, go ahead. I promise I won’t judge you.”
“Alright.” Maurice swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “That was actually Kenneth on the phone. You remember him, right? He’s my boyfriend. I’m… I’m gay.”
“Oh. Oh! Oh, I… I see…” Gene blinks. It hits him—it all makes sense.
How on Maurice’s birthday he kept wishing Kenneth were there, how Kenneth was almost always the star of his school photographs, and how friendly they were when Gene met them together…
But Gene would never think to assume such things about two men.
No, he originally thought they were just best friends…
“Is that… weird to you?” Maurice asks, caution in his tone.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Gene reassures, shaking his head a little. “I’m just surprised. I… I don’t believe I’ve ever met someone who was gay, now that I think about it.”
“Yeah, we’re pretty rare, I guess, compared to straight people.
” Maurice chuckles, fidgeting with the sleeve of his cardigan again.
“Most of society doesn’t approve of people like me, y’know.
But it really shouldn’t matter who one loves, should it?
I don’t understand why it’s considered such a bad thing.
Not when there are actual criminals going around…
murdering people. No, I just want to love who I want to love. You get me?”
“Yeah, I get that.” Gene nods. “It… it shouldn’t really matter, right? Love who you want to love.”