Chapter 43 #2
Until you accept the truth you hate.
Last year, in that hotel room, I thought these words were about Cassie, about her inability to accept who she is. But as I sing them now, I’m singing to myself.
I’m also talking directly to my stubborn self as I sing the chorus on my own because that’s what we do in the original recording. It sounds different without her sweet harmony, but this way I can really drive the words home to her. I can really tell her what I want.
She seems to listen intently, her mouth twitching occasionally, as if she wants to smile but there is something holding her back. Whatever it is, it doesn’t stop her from hitting her cue as she launches into her own final verse.
I hear, fighting talk
Maybe we should stop, take a walk
Femme Fatale, evergreen love
What I want is to rise above.
Those words. Those words, and the way she delivers them to me, are what have me hoping against hope that the future could be something I’ve not dared to imagine. That it can be as sweet and good as what I know Cassie believes in.
But of course, we can’t guarantee that. I can’t guarantee Cassie anything but that I will love her through whatever happens next. I will love her no matter what.
I’m itching with the need to say all this, and I’m so grateful it’s her solo chorus, which means that we only have two more choruses to sing together and then the song is over.
The song is over, but everything else will begin. And I know exactly how to do it.
My grin is unstoppable as I watch Cassie sing.
What I want, is to know my love is true
What I want, is to stop feeling so blue.
What I want, is a love that's only mine.
What I want, is you for the rest of time.
I freeze. Did I really just hear her say that?
What I want, is you for the rest of time.
As if to confirm my suspicions, Cassie’s hand reaches out and finds mine.
My whole body is limp, so she takes it easily.
As she begins to sing the chorus again, still alone because I’m not yet back in my body, she lifts my hand and brings it to her lips.
She kisses my knuckles between words and keeps my hand there, connecting us so very intimately in front of hundreds of people – hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, if you include those watching on TV at home.
There is noise in my earpiece. Swearing. Questions. Panic. I pull it out of my ear in a brisk movement that has me returning to my body and to the moment.
I start to sing with her, and I lead her hand over to my mouth. I kiss her knuckles the same way she did mine.
And then it’s our final chorus, and I bet the producers are losing their goddamn minds right now, along with half the audience.
Well, fuck them. Fuck all of them.
This song was never for them. It was for us and all the brave people like us.
I move the microphone stand in front of us and step close enough that I can wrap my arm around her body, pulling her against me.
The stupid fucking spikes on my dress must press into her, uncomfortably so, but she doesn’t seem to care.
I stare into her blue eyes, and I see nothing but joy and hope and my future.
We sing the last line together like this, our hips pressed close on one side, our bodies barely facing the audience.
What I want, is you for the rest of time.
I’m aware that some people could still explain this away.
It’s just me and Cassie. Two rockstars who have found a friendship in each other.
Maybe the most cynical onlookers would think it’s a publicity stunt, to discount all the so-called “Battle of the Bangs” coverage.
And I’m okay with that. I know there’s more to it.
I know that as Cassie’s thumb strokes me through my dress – spikes and all – she’s telling me that there’s so much more between us. That she wants more.
And so do I.
But as the last line ends and we’ve kept it as Cassie sang it, she leans in closer.
Closer and closer until her mouth is just a short inch away from me.
She stays there, and I immediately know it’s a question.
She’s asking for permission. She’s asking me if I want this as much as her.
She’s asking if I’m ready to set the world as we know it on fire.
My answer is a wicked grin because that’s exactly what I want. She is exactly what I want.
I close the gap between us, and as the final chords of our song play, we kiss.
We kiss deep and slow and long. We kiss as the lights fade and the curtains close.
We kiss as the applause finally comes, stilted and nothing like the thunder we walked on stage to.
We kiss until we’re hidden away from view.
We only stop kissing when I hear Kenny Rogers, this year’s host, exclaim, “Well, I think we’ve seen it all now,” to the audience to explain as if our kiss is something unnatural, freakish, disturbing.
If I wasn’t so determined to stay glued to Cassie’s side, I’d be storming through the curtain to tell him what I think about that.
But then Cassie breaks our kiss, pulls back and smiles into my eyes, and fuck that guy and his lame-ass music. Fuck everybody else in the world. I’ve got my girl.
“What the fuck!” Kevin Briggs approaches us and grabs both of our arms, whisking us off the platform.
Once we’re huddled together at the side of the stage, I realise that Martin is also here, and he looks just as shocked as his boyfriend.
“What the fuck was that?” Kevin says, and I hear now that he’s not only in shock, he’s also smiling and laughing in, yes, disbelief, but also amazement.
“Well, you said you wanted to change the world,” Cassie says, and I have no clue what she’s talking about and why she’s even talking to Kevin right now. He’s not her manager anymore.
“Yes, but … wait!” Kevin holds out his hands. “Does this mean…”
“Yes, Kevin. Will you be my manager?”
“What about Lisette?” I ask, trying to catch up.
“Yeah, what about Lisette?” Martin steps up.
“We’re still in our trial period. We’re both allowed to break the contract at any time for the first three months. And something tells me that after tonight, she won’t mind me doing so one little bit.”
Kevin has his hands on his hips, and he’s shaking his head. “You’re really doing this,” he says, his eyes ping-ponging between Cassie and me.
“It’s already done,” I say, and I find Cassie’s hand with my own.
“Not necessarily.” Martin points a finger at us both. “We could easily explain it away. A publicity stunt. And we could have fake boyfriends for you both within the week.”
“Fuck that,” I say with a scowl.
“No, thank you,” Cassie says as sweetly as if she’s been offered a drink she doesn’t want. “No more lies. No more hiding.”
“Jesus, fuck,” Martin says. Or maybe it’s Kevin. What I do know is that they’re both alternating between pinching the bridge of their noses and rubbing their foreheads.
“So do you accept?” Cassie asks Kevin. “To be my manager and navigate this storm with me?”
Kevin glances at Martin, who shrugs, but then I notice their hands find each other.
“I guess so,” he says.
“And you’re not going to kill me?” I ask Martin, who gives me a very rare proud smile.
“Pia,” he says. “Of all the batshit crazy things I know you are capable of, I never expected this one. But also, I never thought I’d be this in awe of you. Of you both. Really fucking inspiring.”
Emotion threatens to overwhelm me, and I’m aware my heartbeat has not slowed since Cassie’s lips touched mine. It certainly doesn’t settle when Cassie uses our joined hands to turn me so I’m facing her.
“How about you, Pia? You ready to see this through?”
I don’t know if she’s talking about the aftermath of our kiss or spending the rest of our lives together, but I know my answer. I’ve never been surer of an answer.
“I’m so fucking ready,” I tell her. “I’m just sorry it took me a little while.”
She shakes her head, all that golden hair moving in soft waves. “That doesn’t matter now. All that matters now is that we do this–together. That it’s what you want.”
I use my other arm to bring her body against mine for another sweet kiss, although I keep it short, which is much easier to do now I know we have a lifetime of kisses ahead of us.
“I’ve never wanted anything more.”
“Same.” She beams up at me. “You are what I want. What I will always want.”