Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
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JOHNNY
I’ve had one too many glasses of champagne and, if Calum’s giggling is any indication, he’s even worse. The number of little red SOLD stickers showing up on the graphic artwork lining the walls tells me Toni can afford the extra bottle.
In the six months since his last art gallery showing, Toni has been focusing increasing amounts of time on what was supposed to be a side business to complement his day job as a graphic designer.
The number of people attending his second show proves how popular his work is becoming.
Ned is in ecstasy boasting about his talented partner, his enthusiasm only topped by Toni’s best friend, Rodney.
Watching the two of them compete for Toni’s attention is enough to keep me and Cal in stitches.
“I like this one,” Calum says, pointing to a small print hanging in the hallway of the converted house. With three cozy, brightly lit rooms, and a larger foyer, there are plenty of available walls. Toni has filled them all. “It’s Fifth Circle, isn’t it?”
I look closer at the image. There are four male figures, standing in varying positions.
They’re against the wall of a building that looks suspiciously like The Jam Shed.
The subtle lines of a drum kit can be seen through the open door on their right.
Hints of bushland fill in the background.
“I didn’t know about this,” I murmur, feeling myself blush even as I’m smiling. “That’s so cool.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Calum says before disappearing into the crowd.
Assuming he’s using the bathroom, I examine the print of me and my three band mates for a few more minutes.
Ned is definitely the one furthest to the right.
He’s staring straight ahead, as if beckoning the viewer to come a little closer.
Plus, there’s no mistaking the tilt of those limber hips.
Oz is next, arms wrapped around himself as he looks towards the ground.
Gavin is loose-limbed and grinning. I’m on the end.
My body angles towards the other men, but my head is turned away, looking off to the left.
Something about the position evokes a sadness in me.
Even here, in digital art form, I seem torn between the band and the somewhere else I’m supposed to be.
Can everyone see that in me? Am I so obvious?
I’m leaning in close to the picture, staring at myself like a befuddled narcissist, when a hand places a red SOLD dot on the picture’s frame.
I jerk upright, to see Calum standing beside me.
“You bought it?” I ask, my eyebrows lifting.
He nods, but there’s an odd expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Toni gave me a ‘family discount’.” He puts air quotes around the words.
“Is that bad?”
“No.” His baffled smile wars with his frown. “I’m just… surprised, I guess.”
“Why? You’re our manager. That makes you family.”
He starts to speak, but nothing comes out. Then he shakes himself free of whatever he’s thinking. “Anyway, yes, I bought it. Fifth Circle is my first band.”
“That makes us a forever kind of special, right?”
His smile is pure indulgence. “Yes, Johnny. You are forever special.”
I laugh low in my throat. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says as we wander back across the room. “I know when you first started the band it had five members. Yes?” At my nod, he continues, “I assume that’s where the fifth in Fifth Circle came from?”
“Yeah. In hindsight, we probably should have chosen a name without a specific number in it.”
“Who was the fifth person?” Calum asks.
“Michael. He was our keyboardist. Things didn’t work out and he left.
” Draining my glass, I place it on a nearby table.
“Let’s look in the next room.” I escape through a doorway.
With a quick glance around the new room, I pause in front of a large print of a nude male.
He’s reclined on a bed, back arched, arms tied to the rail above his dark head.
One leg is bent at the knee, the conveniently raised thigh concealing his family jewels from view.
Calum joins me, his mouth dropping open as he takes in the enormous print. “Damn, Toni’s good.” I nod my agreement. “You think it’s Ned?”
I snort a laugh. “I hope not.”
“You’d rather Toni drew someone else this way?”
“Modelling for fine art is a timeless and honourable profession.” I turn my back on the erotic painting. “If it prevents me knowing a little too much about my best friend’s sex life, all the better.”
Calum gives a low chuckle as we continue around the room. A few minutes later he grabs us fresh glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. I reach for one, but he keeps it just out of reach, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Will you tell me what happened to the keyboardist?”
“Fine,” I say, holding my hand out. Once I have the glass in hand, I shrug. “There’s not much to tell. I’d known Michael for a couple of years in passing, but we didn’t really get to know each other until I put the band together. He was a good guy. We became friends.”
After a lengthy pause, Calum gestures with one hand, his eyes eager. “Until?”
I clear my throat, take a sip of the bubbling sweetness in my glass.
“I can’t say exactly when things changed, but we started hanging out together more often.
Sometimes, after rehearsals, we’d head to a local pub for a beer.
Shit like that.” We come to a halt in a quiet corner of the room, our backs to the wall.
“One day, we were hanging out, having a laugh, when I realised he was flirting with me.” It’s so stupidly clear to me now, although at the time the realisation floored me.
“It was low-key flirting, but it was definitely there and I… I was enjoying it.” It didn’t matter that I hadn’t done anything wrong.
I was ashamed to have let things get so far.
What if I’d led him on without realising it?
“The whole thing freaked me out,” I tell Calum. “I liked him—and, yeah, I suppose part of me was attracted to him—but I was a married man.”
“What did you do?” Calum asks, his brow furrowed.
“I pulled back. Stopped spending time with him outside the band. The long conversations and shared jokes. I put a stop to all of it.” I swallow hard.
“When he asked why we weren’t friends anymore, I didn’t know what to say.
I told him I needed to spend more time with Ellie. Which was true, and that’s what I did.”
I fall silent, unable to meet his gaze.
Calum watches me in that way he does. “There’s more.” The words are quiet. They’re not a demand. They’re a statement, an invitation.
“One night after rehearsal, he followed me back to my car. We argued. He tried to kiss me.”
Calum’s body turns rigid, and his jaw clenches. As if he wants to reach backwards through time, to the night Michael came on to me and put himself between us. “You stopped him.”
My nod is short, but definite. “I’ll admit to being clueless, sometimes.
I screw up in all sorts of ways. But I am loyal.
” I meet his gaze then. “My place was with my wife; I always believed that. I never would have cheated. Not the way she—” I stop there, not wanting to get into the breakdown of my relationship with Ellie.
That’s not what this conversation is about.
“Anyway, Michael quit the band. Said he wanted to go in a different direction. Gavin and Oz never questioned it. We did talk about getting a new keyboardist for a while, but it never went anywhere.”
“Did you talk to Ellie about what happened?” he asks.
“And tell her what, exactly? A friend tried to kiss me and I turned him down?” I shake my head.
“There was no point in upsetting her. All she knew was, I poured myself into loving her and she responded by loving me back. We were happy, for a while.” I suck down a gulp of champagne, but the sweetness has lost its appeal.
My skin prickles under the weight of Calum’s gaze and I glance his way. “What?”
“I don’t know, I just…” His eyes are warm with concern. “I hate the thought of you going through all that alone.”
“That’s on me, though,” I argue. “My friends would have had my back if they knew the truth.” But they don’t, which makes me feel like the worst friend in existence. They think they know me. I thought they knew me. Right up until I realised how long I’ve been lying to them.
There’s no question they would support the shit out of me if I told them I’m bisexual.
Hell, they’d probably want to throw me a coming out party, complete with rainbow streamers and cake.
I would love them all the more for it, but at the same time it would make hiding the truth from the rest of the world that much harder.
If the world knew, then eventually my parents would find out.
I don’t have to imagine how they would react.
I saw the way they looked at me the day they realised I wasn’t smart enough to be a doctor.
I saw it again when I defied their demands to give up the guitar.
When Ellie left me. When our divorce came through.
Every time I put off buying my own pharmacy.
They have no interest in knowing the flawed and conflicted man they brought into this world.
They only want the parts of me that align with their vision of the perfect son.
The further I deviate from their ideal, the harder it is for them to love me.
And this final truth I hide—the deep, all-consuming love I’ve come to feel for the man at my side—may be one deviation too far.
I don’t want them to look at me and see a mistake where they once saw a miracle.
“Do you miss her?” Calum asks. “Ellie, I mean.”
Taking a moment to draw my thoughts back from the dark turn they’ve taken, I think about his question.
“No, I don’t,” I tell him, truthfully. “We stayed together too long for the sake of making other people happy. But I do miss having someone to come home to, someone who’s there for me and I’m there for them.
The intimacy that comes from knowing someone that deeply, being that connected, it’s unlike anything else.
” I smile sadly, wondering if I’ll ever get another chance at that feeling. “I miss being somebody’s someone.”
“I’m sure it will happen again. When you meet the right woman,” he adds before draining his glass.
I used to think so. I really did. Now, there’s only one person I want to experience that with. He’s the one person I can’t have. “What about you?” I ask, more than ready to shift the focus away from me. “Have you ever felt that way about someone?”
He scoffs. It’s a bitter sound. “I haven’t had the time for serious relationships.” He looks up at me once more, the clouds clearing from his face. “I’m a master at the hookup, though.”
I let out a short laugh. “How do you do it? Going from meeting someone to being inside their body in the space of an hour?” I make a face of displeasure. “I don’t get the appeal.”
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Calum says. “And scratch the hour. Try ten minutes. You’d be surprised how much heat can be generated with someone who catches your eye in a dark club.”
“It seems so… impersonal.”
He looks at me, his eyes all soft and a gentle smile curving his lips. “You really are a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”
My mouth drops open. “I am not.”
“Oh, yes you are.”
I turn away, my cheeks warming. “Yeah, well, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
Calum smirks. “When it comes to you, Johnny, I’m tempted to try everything.”