17. Will
SEVENTEEN
WILL
New Orleans is one of my favorite places. Great food, great music, great vibes—it’s one big party all the time, and the people here are chill. There’s a reason why we do our annual charity concert here.
This year though, it’s just not hitting the same.
Instead of the food and foliage, all I can smell is rot and rain.
Instead of feeling the music and energy of the city amp me up, I feel overwhelmed and on edge.
The rest of the band is feeling all the good vibes this city has to offer, but I’m ready to move on already.
Ari is going on a date.
An actual date. He said those exact words, “it’s a date”, when Alonso invited him out for dinner and drinks tonight.
Jesse said it when he asked what Ari planned to wear on their date .
Naz said it again when he insinuated Ari may need to prep for his date because after seeing Alonso on set today, he’s convinced the rumors that Alonso is hung are true.
Then Ari drilled it into my skull one more time when he disappeared into his room to get ready for his date with a stupid grin on his face.
I’m getting really tired of hearing how perfect this guy is. As if I don’t already know.
The whole band had the pleasure of visiting Alonso on set earlier today.
He’s filming nearby for a highly anticipated period film.
And of course, Alonso looks ridiculously handsome in his costume of a frilly shirt and stupidly tight pants.
Being on a movie set should have been cool, but I spent most of the visit considering how I’d rather drown myself in the swamp rather than watch Alonso make googly eyes at Ari.
Thank fuck the weather’s been in a shittier mood than I have, and the sky opened up, sending everyone running for cover.
Not before Alonso kissed Ari on the motherfucking hand and asked him out, though.
In the rain. In his stupid romantic outfit, wet hair flopping perfectly over his forehead.
I’m pretty sure everyone within a mile’s radius swooned, except for me, who was looking around for a gator to kiss on the mouth to try to keep from screaming.
He’s been getting ready for an hour now. What is he doing in there?
Just as I’m thinking it, the door to Ari’s bedroom opens.
Jesse lets out a low whistle from where he’s sprawled across the arm of the couch, phone in hand. “Damn, girl.”
Naz slow-claps appreciatively. “Yeah, okay. I see you.”
I don’t. I can’t.
I can’t see anything other than his halter-back dress shirt, the same one from the night we’re supposed to be pretending didn’t happen. The one that made it impossible not to touch his smooth, soft skin.
Ow . My chest clenches as my heart either skips a beat or triples up. Whatever happens, it doesn’t feel good.
Once my tunnel vision clears and I’m able to take him in completely, I see that he’s paired the shirt with black skinny jeans and his favorite pair of Docs.
The front of his hair is pulled back, the rest left loose.
A few strands frame his gorgeous face, his makeup is perfectly subtle, just enough to add a little color to his natural glow and accentuate his sensual allure.
It’s the perfect mix of dressy and casual.
He’s so fucking sexy it hurts.
He’s dressed like that for him. Alonso is going to see him in that shirt, and he’s going to touch him. How could he not?
He’s going to touch what’s mine.
I seem to have moved closer without meaning to, standing only a few feet away from him now. “You look… amazing,” I say, trying to keep my breathing steady. My nails dig into my palms to keep from reaching out and running my fingers down his shoulder again.
A bright smile spreads across Ari’s face, his plump lips parting to show off his dazzling smile. “Thank you. It’s not too much?”
Only for my heart.
I shake my head. “You’re perfect.” As true as they are, the words feel inadequate. “Will you be cold?” I ask, still far too aware of all the bare skin on display.
Ari turns around to reach into the garment rack the styling department left here earlier. My eyes track the line of his spine until he shrugs into a cropped oxblood leather jacket.
Please don’t take that off.
Ari studies my face as he pulls his hair out from the collar, brows pulling together slightly so the overhead light catches on the subtle shimmer of his nude eyeshadow. “Are you okay?”
There’s a pause. A small one, but loaded. In the span of what can only be a couple seconds at most, I have an entire internal debate, convincing myself to pick him up caveman-style and tie him to my bed before I talk myself down and mentally and physically take a step back.
In that same pregnant pause, I feel Ari searching my eyes. It feels like he’s waiting, giving me a chance to say something.
But there’s nothing I can say.
I’m delusional enough to think he might look disappointed.
With a resigned nod, Ari takes a step back and turns for the door. His arm reaches out, long, delicate fingers wrapping around the handle, pushing down in slow motion. Eric is standing outside, waiting to accompany him to his destination.
“Ari—“ I say before I can stop myself.
He spins around, looking at me expectantly. Almost hopeful, even.
My breath catches, and I think better of my instincts. He deserves to be with someone good.
“Don’t forget to take an umbrella,” I say uselessly.
I can see the large umbrella that Eric is holding in plain sight.
“There’s a big storm moving in.” Still useless.
We are all very aware of the storm. Now I just look like an idiot, or worse, he thinks I think he’s incapable of taking care of himself.
Ari nods, forcing a smile. “Right. Thanks, big brother.”
I feel that from the base of my throat all the way down to my balls. It mostly hurts really fucking bad, but there’s a little throb down there to remind me that I’m fucked in the head.
The door clicks shut.
“Have fun,” I whisper to the empty space.
When I’m finally able to tear my eyes away, Jesse is leaning against the hallway entrance, watching me with an expression that’s a little too perceptive for my comfort.
“You alright, man?”
“Yeah I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You don’t like Alonso very much,” he points out.
“What? No. Alonso is… fine. He’s fine.”
“Uh-huh. So what’s,” gestures his hand in a circle, “all that about?”
“All what?”
Jesse rolls his eyes. “Dude. What’s going on with you and Ari?”
My mouth opens. Then closes. I’m pretty sure I’m going to vomit. Maybe I’ll actually puke or maybe I’ll word-vomit all the fucked-up shit I’ve done and been thinking all this time.
I try for a half-truth since deflecting is unlikely to get me anywhere. I have to bide my time for that. And also, I do need someone to talk to, even if I can’t tell him everything.
“I think we’re growing apart.”
Jesse’s head cocks, then he frowns. “I can see that, but maybe it’s just time.
If anything, you can look forward to not having to rush home from a hookup or you could take time to think about yourself for a while.
Take a minute to breathe or something. You’re wound tight and have been for a long time. ”
There’s my opening for a distraction.
“What about you? You seem good. Less burdened or something.”
Jesse nods. “Yeah, man. Things are good.”
“Still hanging out with this new guy?”
His smile could light up this whole damn city if the power went out. “Maybe.”
“I’m happy for you,” I say honestly. “Although I guess now I have to rely on my own charm to pick up women.”
He laughs and playfully hits my shoulder. “As if you even have to try. Stop worrying about Ari and pay attention, you attract hot people like flies to shit.”
“Thanks?”
“Anytime man. Right, well, I’m gonna turn in.”
“Isn’t it still pretty early?”
“It’s never too early to send a dick pic, my friend.”
I snort. “Noted. Have fun.”
“You too.”
I stare at the door for a few more seconds.
Then I go back to the living room to watch reruns of Ted Lasso with Naz, but I can’t focus.
Eventually, I go to my room and pace in front of the window, watching the rain fall.
After a while, there’s a break in the rain, so I decide to go for a walk.
I grab a hoodie, a hat, and an umbrella and slip out before anyone notices me gone.
I don’t know where I’m going. I just walk.
Up and down side streets, and main streets, and creepy alleys.
The rain starts again and doesn’t relent, but still I keep walking, getting lost several times before finding a familiar street.
I walk until my legs ache and my thoughts slow, and I think I might be able to relax enough to sit still.
But on my way back to our hotel, I see him. Them. Ari and Alonso.
They’re standing huddled together under a big black umbrella outside one of the nicer hotels. Again, it’s a picture-perfect scene torn straight from a romance movie. The rain falls, reflecting the light of the streetlamps, and the city glows wet and gold around them.
They’re standing so close together I can’t see a sliver of light between them. Alonso hovers over Ari, cupping his cheek, leaning in. Ari pushes to his toes. And they kiss.
It’s not a quick, sweet goodbye kiss. It’s not hesitant. Nor is it rushed and hungry. Their mouths move together naturally.
Alonso’s hand drops from Ari’s face and slides around his waist, settling at the base of his spine. He pulls Ari to him, and Ari’s arms come up around his neck. Alonso’s hand touches bare skin just before the umbrella tilts to shield them better.
I stand there, heartbroken and feeling invisible, and watch the only person I’ve ever loved choose someone brave enough to choose him, too.
All this water all around me, and I’m drowning in my own misery.
I wait for hours for him to get home. Hours spent cycling through all the stages of grief and self-destruction. Hours, I know without a doubt, that Ari is in bed with Alonso.
At some point, I stop waiting for him to come home and just sit in the dark, staring out the window and watching the storm.
Every time lightning cracks across the sky, I imagine Ari’s head falling back and a cry of pleasure falling from his open lips.
Like the storm is a soundtrack to the perverse visions running through my mind.
I’ve seen enough of Alonso’s movies to imagine a pretty explicit scene between him and Ari, their perfect bodies slick with a sheen of sweat, the sounds of the storm barely drowning out the sounds of skin slapping, breaths gasping, and moaning.
Even in my fucked-up nightmares, they’re beautiful together. Alonso is perfectly gentle and knows exactly how to touch Ari, how to praise him for taking his massive perfect dick so well.
I’m so deep into my spiral, I almost miss the door opening. Whispers come from the entryway, Ari thanking Eric and Eric telling him to drink some water before bed. Does that mean Ari’s drunk? Or did he have to sit up half the night and listen to Ari fuck some dude dry, too?
I hold my breath and force myself to stay still, to wait until Ari goes to bed. Now that he’s home, maybe I’ll be able to settle.
But the kitchen light flicks on, and I can see Ari quietly shuffling through the contents of the small fridge before pulling out a bottle of water. When he turns to the side, his profile all but confirms everything I’d been imagining.
Ari’s soft mouth is red and puffy. His cheeks are rubbed raw with beard burn. His neck is equally red. His shirt is crooked, and his hair is a disheveled mess.
He looks thoroughly fucked, eyes glassy but not unfocused.
I’m stone sober and dead inside when I say the stupidest thing I could possibly say at a time like this.
“Where the fuck have you been?”