If This Gets Out(116)

I shuffle upright, so I’m beside him, and he shows me his phone.

It’s the Billboard email, with the recently updated Hot 100 chart. I knew it was coming out this morning, but I’ve been trying not to think about it. Ruben is practically humming, though, which makes me think this isn’t going to be as upsetting as I thought. I scan the list. “Overdrive” is number one, but seeing it stings. I may have given my vocals to it, but it doesn’t even remotely feel like my song anymore. Geoff may as well be listed as the artist.

Plus, its success can be attributed to the endless news coverage we’ve gotten lately. Our relationship has been dissected by pretty much every major magazine and site out there. The New York Times did a piece on it. It’s still being talked about almost nonstop, twenty-four-hour news cycle be damned. I guess that’s just what happens when two boy band members reveal they’ve been dating in secret. It demands attention.

I’ve been trying my best to avoid all the online discourse, which is about me but is being used as a launching pad for a variety of other things, like criticism of the boy band formula in general and many much-needed examinations of the music industry.

A lot of it is good. The fight is good. But right now, this early, I just want to be with my boyfriend. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.

So I offer his phone back. “Great. Maybe Geoff can buy himself another yacht.”

“Look down,” he says.

I scroll.

“End of Everything” is charting at number four.

I stare at it, like if I even blink, it’ll disappear. “End of Everything” isn’t a single yet, it was released as an additional track with “Overdrive,” as Chorus and our label wanted to see how the public would react to it before deciding on a second single. It’s not supposed to chart. It hasn’t even had a music video, and it hasn’t had any real label push. Yet there it is, the fourth most popular song in the country.

It’s all from the fans.

“Keep going,” says Ruben.

“Guilty” is at number nine, which could be a record as that song came out more than two years ago, and now it’s in the top ten. Normally, only holiday songs appear on the charts years after they’ve been released.

“What is happening?” I ask.

Our lead single charting well could be attributed to the scandal. But this, having two songs, one that hasn’t got any radio play and one that’s two years old, in the top ten? It’s something else entirely. I do a keyword search.

Zuben.

Zuben’s song.

Zach’s song for Ruben.

Then I figure it out.

“People must think I wrote ‘End of Everything’ about you,” I say, the realization dawning on me. “They’re buying it to show support.”

“Oh my god. You’re right.”

“But I didn’t even write it.”

“Your name is on the credits, so I guess that’s all they need to hear.” He laughs wryly. “You’re not done, by the way.”

I scroll down.

At number twenty-one is “Unsaid.”

And then coming in at thirty-three is “His, Yours, Ours.”

“Signature” is at number fifty-eight, higher than it’s ever reached.

We have six songs charting right now. Our fans are dedicated and hardworking, but they’ve never done anything like this. This is undeniable. Huge numbers of people are showing up for Ruben and me as a couple.

Ruben’s phone screen changes. It’s a call from his mom.

His expression shifts, dimming just a little. I already know it, and I know this isn’t going to be good enough for her, for some reason, because even when Ruben does something completely extraordinary, like getting six songs to chart, it’s somehow still not good enough. He goes to answer it.

“Don’t,” I say.

We’ve spent a lot of the past week talking about setting up a healthier boundary between him and his mom. I know it’ll be a long process, but we’ve got to start somewhere. Hopefully I can help him with it like he has helped me with my assertiveness.

He glances at me, like: I wish, and he swipes to accept it, putting her on speaker.

“Ruben,” she says. “I take it you’ve seen the Hot One Hundred?”

“Hey, Mom, Zach’s here.”

“Oh hi, Zach. I take it you’ve seen the chart?”

“I have.”

I mouth the words hang up to Ruben.

“‘End of Everything’ is overperforming, which is good. I just wish it were a better song, Ruben, we really should’ve ironed out the flat you hit on the bridge…”

Ruben swipes across, ending the call.

“Oh god,” he says, tossing away the phone as if it burned him. “Oh fuck.”

“Hey,” I say, laughing. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not, she’s going to kill me.”

“She was ruining it. You did great, Ruben. Full stop.”

“You know I’m going to have to call her back, right?”

“Yeah.” I lean closer, and start kissing his neck. “It can wait, though, right?”

His eyelid flutter closed, and he moans softly.

“She’s going to be so mad at me.”