Chapter 27 Jane
Jane
Riker and I have a tradition of spending the holidays together, so crashing at his place over the week of Thanksgiving is perfectly natural.
I truly hate going home, and he hates having to choose which parent to spend the holidays with, now that his dad is in Beaverton and his mom is in Coeur d’Alene.
It’s just far enough to travel for him to have to pick only one but upset the other parent for being in the vicinity but not actually visiting. Keeping the peace is impossible.
Meanwhile, I have a long history of telling my parents I’m working and can’t spare the time. This year, they didn’t even ask if I’m coming for the holiday.
I don’t know if I should thank or curse Gossip Daily for that.
But since I left Keeley for the “space” I thought I wanted, I’ve been a shell of a person.
It’s…not pretty. Into the Dragon Realm has given me plenty to work on, but I’ve been functioning on autopilot.
Wake up, drink coffee, work until I drop.
Riker pushes me to call up my old therapist, and I schedule two emergency sessions to try to work through all of my feelings.
After the first, they got me in touch with a psychiatrist to get on some antidepressants, which I haven’t needed in years. But it turns out self-medicating by overscheduling myself isn’t working.
My friends are with me, though. Valerie and Caleb come by to work on a new Glitter Bats song they’ve been writing with Riker, and I jump in to help. During one of our breaks, Valerie breaks out some chocolate and volunteers to go through my DMs.
At first, I tell her no. There can’t be anything good in there. But when she doesn’t relent, insisting she’ll find the positive ones, I reluctantly hand over my phone. And then I marvel at the fact that they’re not all bad.
It’s kind of incredible, actually, the solidarity.
There are kind words from fans, especially queer fans.
But I’ve also been contacted by other people in entertainment who had similar things happen to them.
Jaxon Cole, the actor from Riverwood who Mary Kate mentioned, sent me a message to check in and share his story about being accused of “queerbaiting” for playing a gay character until he came out on his socials.
I even hear from a New York Times bestselling author who tried to keep her private life private, until someone uploaded photos of her with her girlfriend at an event that wasn’t open to the public.
Everyone promises I don’t owe the world an explanation.
Still, I wonder how it might be different if I had decided to come out, years ago, when I first left life with my family behind.
Maybe then, I wouldn’t be so lonely. There’s this ache deep in my soul where Keeley’s warmth used to live, and the absence leaves me hollow.
As much as I try to go through the motions, I know my friends can see it in my eyes.
I’ve picked up the phone to call her a hundred times, but I still don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to get to where I want to be, and until I figure that out, it’s not fair to expect Keeley to walk on eggshells around me.
That’s why Riker is dragging me to an instrument shop, navigating through Black Friday traffic like it’s not actual hell out here. Fortunately, the cars start to move as we get closer to the shop.
“I don’t want a new keyboard,” I tell him as he pulls into the parking lot a little too fast, and I wince as he skips the curb with nothing but a self-deprecating chuckle. Ignoring this, I continue my protest. “I want my old keyboard.”
“I know it’s nostalgic, Janey, but you’re going to need a new one eventually.”
I lean against the headrest, folding my hands in my lap. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can be trusted to make any major decisions right now.”
Riker raises a brow as he puts his truck into park. “You, Jane Mercer, think you can’t handle decisions? Since when do you doubt yourself?”
I sigh. I doubt myself all the time lately. “We’re just looking, Riker.”
But it feels so weird to be doing this without Keeley. With how much time we’ve spent together over the past few months, choosing something for my house alone feels…wrong.
I want her to be included in it. Crap, maybe I even want us to share an address. But that’s the last thing I should be thinking about, because I have a lot of choices to navigate before we can have a life together.
Riker glances at his phone. “Shit, they don’t open for another ten minutes. Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I say. Riker begins to scroll as we wait, but I can’t bring myself to open any apps. I’m still scared of what I’ll find.
The media frenzy has slowed a little, but Gossip Daily didn’t take any of the articles down.
Still, when Ryan Tate and a couple of other journalists started getting called out for homophobia, they quickly changed their topics of choice for a few weeks, going back to gross old standbys like “Hot or Nots” and rehashing dirt on favorite early-aughts stars.
There’s even a full article dedicated to speculating whether Bianca Martin’s friendship with Landon Banks’s latest ex-wife is all a publicity stunt.
I feel guilty that they’re still talking about other people like they’re objects, but I can’t deny the relief of no longer being in the hot seat.
And it wasn’t because of anything I did. I have one person to thank.
“Mary Kate really white-knighted for me,” I say softly, staring out the window as a couple of new cars pull into the parking lot. “I appreciate you reaching out to her that day.”
Riker glances up from his phone, his cheeks turning pink. He brings a hand to his neck, sheepish. “It was nothing.”
My throat tightens. “It’s not nothing, and you know it.”
He shrugs, the movement so exaggerated on his large frame that I nearly laugh. “I just sent a text. She did all the work.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re friends with her. She was really kind to me when it mattered.”
Riker nods, a small smile tugging on his lips. “She’s like that.” He might be playing cool, but he goes all puppy-eyed when Mary Kate is mentioned, and it’s kind of adorable.
“Can I ask you a question?” I say.
Riker raises a brow. “That was a question, but you can ask another if you must.”
“Not that it’s any of my business, but…you and Mary Kate…
why isn’t that a thing?” Every time she’s around, she gravitates toward him like a magnet, and he responds to the pull.
Whether it’s red carpets, or fundraisers, or even just group interviews, their banter always turns any conversation into The Riker and Mary Kate Show and the rest of us are just guest stars.
He leans back into the driver’s seat, propping up a knee and acting casual. “It’s just flirting. There’s nothing going on.”
“Yeah, but that’s not what I asked. I asked why it’s not more. You’re obviously into her.”
He frowns, staring at the gear shift. “I’m into a lot of people.”
“Riker,” I say.
“I don’t know, it’s complicated,” he says all in a rush. “I obviously really like Mary Kate, but I always figured it would be a conflict of interest, so I never went there. We’re just friends.”
“And that’s enough for you?”
Riker’s jaw sets. “It doesn’t matter if it’s enough for me. Mary Kate has said a hundred times that she doesn’t date people in the industry. I can’t tell her how I feel because anything between us would ruin her career.”
I rest my elbows on the dash, looking over at him in frustration. “Isn’t that up to her to decide? Why would you choose not to be together when you haven’t even tried? Isn’t it worth taking a chance?”
Riker raises a brow. “You tell me.”
All the warmth drains from my cheeks, and I snap back up in my seat. “What?”
Riker opens his mouth. “Janey, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me to say. But you’re kind of projecting and I know you’re struggling, and…sorry. Never mind.”
“No, tell me what you were going to say.” God knows I could use perspective right now.
“It feels like you’re waiting for permission to have what you want.”
Oh my god.
Is this really what this is? Am I just people-pleasing myself out of my own happiness? It doesn’t feel that simple, and yet, it makes so much sense.
“You might be right.” I gape back at him, mind racing.
Suddenly, I’m seeing my situation with so much more clarity.
“When I realized I wanted to leave the church, I already knew I was bi. But I was quiet about living life on my own terms. Leaving home for LA made my parents so upset, but whenever I went back, I put my good-girl mask on in order to keep the peace. With something like this…I won’t be able to do that anymore, and it scares the hell out of me. ”
He nods. “That’s understandable.”
“I feel like I’ve spent the last ten years holding my breath.”
Riker softens. “I can’t speak to how you feel about being out, or being public, now that the media has already pulled this bullshit and outed you. But you’re allowed to choose Keeley, if that’s what you want. We’ll be right there with you to figure out the rest.”
My head spins. I want that to be true, but I’m still terrified at what that would mean. Once I tell my truth to the world, I can’t take it back.
But there’s a part of me that just wants to be known.
No more secrets. No more fears. I want to be my authentic self, and let people take or leave it.
I don’t want to let fear of my family dictate my path anymore.
I’ve been talking to the therapist about this too, about how my identity is no one’s fucking business, but they also remind me of the good I could do, if fans saw themselves in me.
I just don’t know what that looks like.
I open my mouth to respond, but just then, both of our phones buzz. It’s the Glitter Bats + Wade text chain:
Wade: Sorry to bother you over the long holiday, but I just heard from Label Records. Landon is making a final decision now. Expect a press release by the end of the day. I’m sorry to not have more news than that.
“Press release? What does that even mean?” Riker groans.
“I don’t know, but I’m nervous. Want to go help me pick out a keyboard?”
“Distraction it is! Let’s go,” Riker says.
So we enter the store just as it opens. I get sidetracked at the drum kits, imagining what they might look like in my music room, but finally I let Riker drag me over to the keyboards.
Miraculously, there’s the same make and model as my original Korg, and it’s in perfect condition.
I decide to buy it on the spot. As we check out at the register, I’m grateful that, during this awful month, at least one thing has gone my way. I have my keyboard again.
But as soon as Riker and I stop by my house to drop off the instrument, the press release hits.