If This Gets Out(21)
“You’ll always be the sexiest man on earth to me,” Ella says to Angel, and Angel looks not-so-subtly pleased. She pours an extra few shots in his glass, as a “congratulations for being sexy” prize, I guess.
“I mean, we’re right here,” Zach jokes to me, but I have a feeling there’s truth hovering beneath his lighthearted tone.
“Yeah, you’re breaking our hearts, Ella,” I join in.
Ella laughs, tinkling and light. “From what I hear, I’m the last person who’d have a shot at breaking your heart, Ruben,” she says. “You might have more luck with Levi over there.” She nods over to an unfamiliar blond guy standing by the bathroom door with Ted. “Shall I introduce you?”
I can’t say I’m surprised she knows. Once someone’s out to their team, their sexuality tends to be a bit of an open secret in the music industry, but the unspoken agreement is that what insiders know stays on the inside. The amount of money that gets spent per year on bribes and lawsuits shutting down front-page outings is eye-watering. It keeps the media in line, more or less. At least, as far as photographic proof goes. And any other celebrity will swear up and down that you’re straight if they’re asked about you—not least because they generally have plenty of dirty secrets of their own. But it’s more than that. It’s a community thing. A morality thing. An us-versus-them thing.
Too bad I don’t actually want it to be a secret.
“Let’s see where the night goes,” I say, and she scrunches her nose at me cheekily.
Zach shoots a sharp, sideways look my way. He’s historically been funny about me seeing guys. Zach’s kind of a less-wired version of Jon when it comes to following the rules; he doesn’t want drama, and he worries that I’ll get with the wrong person and they’ll go to the media or something and cause a scandal. Essentially, he doesn’t trust me to be discreet. I prefer to think of it as flattering that he’s protective over me, rather than irritating that he doesn’t trust my judgement.
That, and it’s hard to be annoyed at him when I’ve never told him that I even want to be out, not in so many words. As far as he’s concerned, he’s on my side, protecting my secret, not Chorus’s.
“Who’s going to break Zach’s heart, then?” Angel asks, tapping on the bottom of Zach’s cup. Drink. Zach obeys.
“Honestly?” Ella says. “Pick of the bunch. Who would you like to break your heart, Zach? I’m sure no one here would turn down the challenge.”
The colors in the room seem to lose their vibrancy, all of a sudden. I hop up. “I’m gonna go check on Jon,” I say.
“I’ll come with you.” Zach half rises, but Ella pulls him back down, giggling again. “I’m sure he can make the trip alone,” she says.
I weave in and out of the people crowding the room—a few more have poured in since we got here—and almost run into a group coming through the door. Many more and they won’t be able to squeeze in.
Just as I’m about to leave, the door opens and Jon enters. “The hotel’s gonna say something to Erin,” he says as he sees me. “It’s way too loud in here.”
“Probably. But what did you expect?”
Jon sighs and makes a beeline for Angel, and I tail him. Zach’s by the window, talking to a girl with flowing black curls. Her legs are crossed at the ankles, and her head’s tipped so far to one side her neck must be aching. She seems captivated by him. And so she should be. It’d be wonderful if she’d go get captivated by someone else, though. Literally, anyone else.
Ella waves to get my attention. She’s with the blond guy she mentioned earlier, Levi. I hold a hand up to tell her to hang on, and someone places a drink into it as they pass me.
Sure, why not? I knock it back, then tune into Jon and Angel’s conversation.
“We don’t want to get a rep, Angel.”
“Oh, no, not a rep for being too fun; girls hate that,” Angel says, bouncing on the spot. He’s obviously taken something. His energy is a touch too frenetic.
“Just a little quieter? Please?”
“You,” Angel says, “are not our manager. How about you just have some fun and leave the sorries to me, yeah?” He grabs Jon’s hands and moves them back and forth, trying to get Jon to dance. Jon rolls his eyes again, but he’s smiling reluctantly.
Just as I finish my drink, someone taps me on the shoulder. It’s the blond guy. Levi. “Refill?” he asks me.
I accept it, a smile spreading across my face.
Levi, it turns out, is an Irish model, which explains his ethereally beautiful face. He’s also a lot better at handling his alcohol than I am, which I find out when I try to keep pace with him and quickly lose the ability to stand steady. He steers me to a free spot on the bed, and we sit while he tells me about a time he almost got arrested with Ella and Kellin. As we talk, we lean against each other more and more, and he starts brushing the side of my thigh with his thumb. Everything feels warm, and slow, and soft. Like those caramels.
The party’s steadily growing louder as people knock back more shots and, I assume, whatever stash Angel took from is passed around. One group is loudly filming a video for Instagram while they play a drinking game that apparently involves banging on an end table and screaming every time someone speaks. Not far from them, a couple of guys and a girl have lost their shirts and are running around trying to procure an extra shirt for the girl. Someone else is playing trap music through their phone speaker, and it’s clashing with the music on Angel’s speakers so badly I can barely hear myself think.