by HJ Welch
Everyone seemed to know each other. It wasn’t just the former members of Reyse’s band, Below Zero, but their other halves appeared to have become friends when Reyse wasn’t looking. Ashby and Elion in particular looked like the best of friends. Reyse watched as Blake congratulated TJ again. Then they were joined by Raiden Jones, who had most likely just reappeared from sneaking off to an ancient broom closet with his new husband, Levi. The three guys gave cheers, clinking their glasses together.
“Oh, just go over and say congratulations,” Bella said, cutting through Reyse’s thoughts with a huff. “You’ve barely said two words to any of them all day. What’s the point of flying over here if you’re going to ignore them?”
“I’m not ignoring them,” Reyse mumbled, crossing his arms. Bella blinked at him. He deflated somewhat. “Okay, so…maybe I’m not entirely sure what to say. But that doesn’t mean I’m avoiding my friends.”
“You say what people usually say at weddings,” Bella said in a blasé manner, flicking her slender fingers. “‘Congratulations,’ ‘Don’t you look happy,’ ‘the ceremony was gorgeous,’ – that sort of thing.”
Reyse rubbed his chin. “Ah, yes,” he said lightly, but it was difficult to keep the slight melancholy from his voice. “But then people want to ask difficult questions in return, like ‘How are you?’”
“Hmm,” Bella said. She patted his hand sympathetically. “That is a tricky one.”
“Oh shush,” he said good-naturedly.
“I’m serious,” she said. “I do understand. It doesn’t matter that you’re number one in the charts or the box office.” She sighed and looked out over the sea of happy, mostly paired-off people. “They want to know when you’re next.”
They both looked down at her ringless left hand. Reyse felt the same twinge of guilt he always did at some point when they went out anywhere as a ‘couple.’
“That’s not what you want, is it?” he asked. Because he would consider it if she did.
“No,” Bella told him softly, mustering up a smile. “Forgive me, darling, but I’d like to marry someone who actually loves me.”
“I love you,” Reyse said quickly.
She patted his hand again. “I know, dear. I love you, too. But…not like that.”
She turned to watch TJ and Ashby. Even though they were speaking with different people, they were still holding hands. Like it was impossible to be parted, even for a second, on their special day. As Reyse looked on, TJ flicked his gaze toward Ashby. That single look contained so much love and affection it made Reyse’s heart ache. Both for his friends’ happiness and for what he himself was lacking.
Had lost.
“Do you think a man will ever look at me like that and not want to shag me?” Bella asked with a heavy sigh.
Reyse considered his words before he answered. “So you really never feel like…?”
“Nope,” Bella replied before he could finish his awkward question. “Sex just doesn’t interest me. I suppose I could, every now and again. If I wanted children, let’s say. But just for fun?” she wrinkled her nose. “Give me a snuggle on a sofa with hot chocolate any day.”
Reyse laughed gently, then gave her a one-armed hug. She had always been open about being asexual with him. Not to the public, of course. But it was what made them such a neat and tidy couple.
Neither was remotely interested in bedding the other.
Reyse raised his glass of bubbly toward her. “Here’s to you finding someone to actually Netflix and chill with,” he said with a wink.
She smiled and clinked her own glass with his. A small ding rang out over the cheesy nineties music that currently had most of the wedding party on the dance floor. “Cheers to that,” she said, taking a sip. “And what shall we wish for you, hmm?”
Reyse shook his head and placed his glass back down. “Let’s wish that you ‘dump’ my ass kindly when you find your Mr. Right, and that my next record goes platinum. Again.” He grinned ruefully at her. “Fuck, I’m such an ungrateful brat.”
They both laughed, but he could see she wasn’t going to let it go.
Bella glanced left and right. There was no one around their table, and anyone nearby was currently being distracted by TJ’s manager. The large man was loudly telling a story in his gravelly voice that Reyse was absolutely sure he shouldn’t be sharing about a certain well-known TV star. Even though the venue was nonsmoking, he was standing under a cloud of smoke as he entertained the small throng of women with his juicy anecdote. No doubt he was looking for wife number four among them.
Satisfied they weren’t being listened to, Bella leaned in close to Reyse. “No Mr. Right for you, sweetie?”
A lump formed in his throat almost immediately at even the mention of such an idea. “Nah,” he said, not meeting her eye and forcing a laugh. He should have known the question was coming. After all, Bella was one of the few people on the entire planet who knew the truth. But it still hurt all the same.
Bella huffed and scowled, an almost comical expression for a face that sponsored makeup lines and perfumes across the globe. “You absolutely could, you know?” she insisted. “It’s not as if it’s illegal or anything.”
Reyse gave her a patient look. He knew she meant well, but they’d had this conversation both at her premiere for Fallen Angels Club and Prince James’s birthday party last year.
“Sun City Records is a ‘family friendly’ company,” Reyse recited, using heavily sarcastic air quotes. “And everyone knows the gays are dirty perverts out to get the helpless children with their glitter and sodomy.”
Bella snorted so badly into her Champagne a passing waiter almost stopped to help her. But she was able to wave him off. “Seriously, darling,” she said, mopping off her chin stealthily, “do you really think they would, what? Drop you?”
“And keep the rights to not just my back catalog, but Below Zero’s as well,” Reyse said. “In a heartbeat.”
He didn’t even attempt to keep the bitterness out of his voice. At the moment, the Below Zero records were under a different contract, so when the rest of the guys had come out it hadn’t been a breach of anything. Joey had been out when the five of them had still been together, after all.
But Reyse was the goose that laid the golden egg. Sun City had his balls in a vise. If he fucked with the label, his manager, Kevin, would get such a fucking kick out of burning everything to the ground out of spite. He would kick Reyse to the curb and keep every penny he’d earned them, all with a grin on his face.
Reyse smiled at Bella and hugged her around the waist with one arm again. “It’s fine,” he said firmly. “It’s not like there’s anyone on the horizon. I can think about love when I’m old and no one wants me to make music anymore.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I’ll make a great sugar daddy.”
“Eww,” she said with a chuckle, pushing him off. “No, you need to be having sex, now. While you’re impossibly hot. Just…find someone who can keep a secret.”
That sounded awful to Reyse. Not only the idea of sneaking around, but also trusting someone enough that they wouldn’t run to the press the second they were done fucking.
No. Staying away from men was safest. But he shrugged at Bella and told her “maybe,” in the hopes of making her feel better. He hated being pitied when he was one of the biggest pop stars on the goddamned planet. That was just nuts.
Besides, there were some men he had stayed away from for far too long. Bella had been accurate earlier. They were his friends and he needed to stop hiding in the corner.
“I think I’m going to give my congratulations to the happy couple,” he told Bella.
“Good man,” she said with a nod, taking another drink and finishing her glass. “I do believe I’m going to go back to the bar and see what I can do about getting shit-faced.”
“Splendid,” Reyse said with his English accent again.
“Oh, bugger off,” she told him with a light smack of her clutch purse to his arm.
&
nbsp; Reyse watched her go, sitting at the table alone for a minute while he steeled himself to go mingle. But it wasn’t going to get any easier the longer he waited. So he also downed his glass, rose, and began walking through the crowd.
He wished Joey were here.
It had been four entire years since all five of Below Zero had stood together in a room. Normally, that was Reyse’s fault. But having only just made Blake and Elion’s wedding for a couple of hours and missed Joey and Gabe’s entirely, Reyse had created a stink to make TJ and Ashby’s.
It was going to be their big ‘getting the band back together’ moment.
But Reyse honestly couldn’t begrudge Joey and his husband’s absence, even though he had been dying to see them. Sometimes, the stars aligned a little earlier than you planned, and you had to go where fate took you. Although Joey had been a bit cryptic as to why they had to fly out to China all of a sudden. Something about Joey doing a short job there. Reyse figured if he didn’t want to divulge the details, that was his business. It must have been important to miss TJ’s big day, so that was that.
All Reyse’s fears about stepping out and talking to his old friends were completely unfounded, of course. They were more like brothers than buddies. TJ’s face lit up immediately when he saw Reyse make his approach.
“Hicks!” he boomed, clearly on top of the world. “My man, this is for you.”
Reyse wasn’t even sure where TJ produced the two shots from, but he wasn’t surprised. The big guy seemed to always have a never-ending stash of tequila on his person. Reyse laughed and took the proffered glass. Getting too drunk even in a semi-public space like this generally made him nervous. But it seemed Ashby’s British friends were all high-level socialites and knew how to behave themselves, and his American friends were decent guys. TJ’s guests were either fellow movie stars or Below Zero, so Reyse hoped he could rely on some professional courtesy.
“Cheers,” Reyse said, holding up the dubious clear liquid. It burned his throat on the way down and he coughed, but it was still kind of fun to still be slinging back dirty alcohol with TJ Charles like the past four years hadn’t happened.
TJ clapped his arm around Reyse’s back and hugged him to his side. They stood for a moment by the old stone wall, watching people dance without a care and eat food from the buffet and chat around the tables and raise toasts to the happy couple.
“This is the best day of my life,” TJ said.
Reyse looked over at him. “Really?” he asked. He wasn’t throwing shade, but TJ had enjoyed a very successful career in music and now movies. He’d been all around the world and seen so much.
Of course, TJ didn’t take Reyse’s question as an insult. He just squeezed him closer with his muscular arm.
“Yeah, my man,” he said, nodding. At that moment he caught Ashby’s gaze across the room and the two smiled goofily and waved at each other. “I dunno. They say there’s someone out there for everyone. I doubt there’s, you know, just one person. But I do kind of think there is someone out there for you who, like, makes you the best fucking person you can be. If you’re really lucky, you might get to marry that person.”
He kissed the top of Reyse’s head. TJ was usually affectionate, but this was extra, even for him. Whether it was due to happiness or booze or both, Reyse had to say he enjoyed the intimacy. Even just between friends, he couldn’t remember the last time he was kissed by someone he cared for.
“You just can’t be afraid to let love in,” TJ concluded.
“Ain’t that the truth, y’all.” Raiden came up on Reyse’s other side and nudged him with his elbow. “Even if love starts out as your scary bodyguard who angry fucks you senseless.”
“Rai!” Reyse chastised while TJ guffawed.
Raiden just shrugged and grinned, though. Out of all the guys, Reyse had managed to see a fair bit of Raiden recently. They’d worked on a few songs together at Raiden’s studio over the past year, so Reyse knew he was joking to break the tension.
But there was no escaping the fact that when the band had broken up, there had only been two queer members. One out, the other very firmly not. Now, one by one, Reyse had been forced to remain in the shadows while his brothers were able to own their sexualities and find the loves of their lives.
He was fucking proud of them. But it didn’t make his situation any easier. Now, in interviews, presenters would joke that he was the only straight one left and asked him how that made him feel. And Reyse would have to lie.
The boys knew, though. They’d never talked about it. But they knew. So for a while, Reyse allowed himself to be hugged by Trent. He chatted about crap with Reyse before they were joined by Blake and a few people got excited and took photos of them all together.
His life was good. It was amazing.
He just had to let go of the idea that love was something he could pursue anytime soon. Through a certain amount of luck and an incredible amount of hard work, he was living a dream life with a career so many would kill for.
So he spent the rest of the night counting his blessings, dancing and drinking with dear friends, and not worrying about tomorrow.
Today, he was doing just fine.
2
Corey
Corey Sheppard cursed under his breath as he rode down the damn road for a third time, trying to see the numbers on these giant ass houses. Would it kill people in neighborhoods like this to stick a mailbox in their yard or something?
He was looking for one-three-nine-three. At around the start of the fourteen hundreds, he killed the engine on his motorcycle and pulled the stack of several pizzas from the top box on the back as well as the plastic bag of drinks, dips and sides. Then he began determinedly trudging along the sidewalk until he got lucky and spied one-three-nine-seven in the dark.
“Finally,” Corey breathed in relief.
He dashed along past two more houses and jogged down the front path. The yard was immaculate. There were marble ornaments on the lawn lit up with discreet spotlights and a Grecian column on either side of the front door. Corey pressed the bell, adjusted his Speedy Pete’s Pizza baseball cap and plastered on a smile.
“Hi!” he cried as the door began to open. “You ordered-”
“You’re late.”
Corey broke off from his usual speech and took in the stoned sloth of a skinny college kid that stood beyond the threshold.
“What was that?” Corey asked, still smiling even though he had a bad feeling about this.
The smell of cheap weed was wafting out from the house and Corey was proud of himself for not flinching. Jesus. Surely kids this rich would be able to afford the good stuff.
The guy ruffled his thick dark hair and blinked slowly, swaying from left to right as two of his equally sluggish buddies came to stand either side of him. The sound of music and more voices floated out into the night.
“You’re late,” Stoner said with a giggle. “Speedy Pete’s gives you the order for free if the driver is late.”
“Err,” Corey ground out, still smiling. He twisted his arm under the pizza mountain and checked his cracked-but-still-ticking watch. “Nope. I’ve got three minutes to spare, actually.”
“Didn’t you hear him, man?” one of the sidekicks demanded, leaning over Stoner to get up in Corey’s face. “He said you’re late. So hand over the pies.”
The three of them laughed and made to grab the boxes. Corey stepped back.
“No, no, no,” he said with a big grin despite the steel in his voice. “I logged when I left the store. Now come on, guys. Pay up. With seven pizzas, sides and a two-liter bottle of Coke it’s eighty-two, ninety. Plus tip,” he added purposefully.
Stoner held up his hands. “Sure, you wanna play it that way?” he asked. He fumbled into his pocket and removed his cell. “I’ll just call your boss up right now and tell him what a little bitch you’re being. I’m sure he’ll have no problem firing your rude, basic ass.”
More laughter from his witless buddies.
> Corey finally dropped the smile. “I wasn’t late,” Corey growled. He was bigger than these guys, but there were three of them and who knew how many more inside. Plus, he was on their property. He didn’t want to piss them off too much, but at the same time, what the fuck? “If you don’t pay, that’s theft.”
“Ohh,” Stoner cooed, pretending to be scared as he hit dial on his phone. “And who do you think your boss is going to believe?” he asked, holding the cell up to his ear. “You? Or me?” He held up his free hand to indicate his mommy and daddy’s enormous mansion, snickering as his buddies doubled up in hysterics behind him.
Corey cocked his head. “Fine,” he said. He let go of the stack of boxes, letting them slam on the ground. He was impressed the food didn’t bounce out, but it was worth it to see those jackasses stop laughing. “Have a nice night.”
He saluted to them and walked backward just as he heard Stoner’s call connect. “Hey, yeah,” he said, his voice all concerned as it drifted over the evening air after Corey. “One of your guys was late, then threw the pizza at us when we asked if it was free.”
Corey turned around and gave them the finger over his shoulder.
Shit. He didn’t need this. He and his boss didn’t exactly have the best relationship to start with. He could only hope that Ross listened to his side of the story.
Corey scoffed as he stalked back up to his bike, jamming his helmet back on and revving the engine back to life. Since when did Ross give a shit what Corey said? The greasy bastard. Corey was just a cog in his machine and Ross would care more about keeping customers like that Stoner asshole than protecting anyone like Corey.
Part of him was tempted not to even go back. He was probably fired anyway. But pride demanded Corey at least try and stand his ground. He didn’t know, he might be lucky.
Instead of chewing it over, Corey tried to stay positive as he rode back into the heart of the city. LA really was beautiful if you took the time to stop and look. A colorful neon jungle towering over gently swaying palm trees, the Hollywood sign watching over them all from above. It was a city full of possibilities.
