The Limelight

by Louisa Keller

  “Mhmm, you’re warm,” muttered Levi, snuggling closer.

  The room was quiet, and we were utterly alone. There wasn’t anything in the world that could quell the happiness in my chest, fizzing up like champagne bubbles.

  8

  Levi

  Boston, MA/New York, NY

  “What the hell?”

  I woke to the sound of Cooper’s voice. For a moment, I cast around for a reason that Cooper might be shouting me awake.

  What day is it? What time? Am I late for the bus?

  Then I remembered exactly where I was and why.

  “Uh, hi Cooper,” I said, sitting up but making sure to keep the covers tucked up around my waist.

  “What are you doing in here?” Cooper asked suspiciously.

  Oh shit.

  “I was…waiting to talk to you about something,” I said.

  I looked around the room and found that Porter was nowhere to be seen. Concern and relief battled within me. I wanted to know where he was, if he was okay, what was going through his mind. But I was also glad that Cooper hadn’t walked in on us cuddling naked.

  Dodged a motherfucking bullet.

  “Talk to me about what?” asked Cooper, his tone apprehensive.

  “Well, um, I wanted to ask about the…sleeping arrangements,” I said, casting around for a compelling question to follow up that statement.

  “Levi, I already told you, we have to share rooms. The label didn’t allot enough money for you to have your own room every night,” said Cooper, relaxing slightly.

  “Yeah, I know that,” I said.

  So far so good…

  “Then why are you here?” Cooper asked. “And why are you asleep in my room?”

  “I fell asleep waiting for you,” I lied. “And I came here to ask…uh…if I could maybe not be with Eddie and Dalton every night.”

  Cooper narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “Because they’re…you know, a couple.”

  God Levi, get it together.

  “Yes, I’m aware,” he said dryly.

  “And they should get some, you know, alone time. Not all the time, but sometimes,” I said, glancing at Cooper to assess his facial expression. So far so good…

  “They sent you to ask me that?” Cooper asked.

  “No, I…I was just trying to do something nice for them,” I said. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  Cooper didn’t have a chance to reply. Before he could even open his mouth, there was the quiet snick of a keycard unlocking the door, and then Porter was waltzing in with a paper bag in his hands and a grin on his face.

  “I brought you something, baby,” he said, walking straight up to the bed and kissing me soundly. He was clearly unaware that we had company.

  Well, that just blew my fucking cover.

  “Jesus Christ,” muttered Cooper, staring at us.

  Porter pulled back at once, his neck cracking as he whipped his head around to stare at Cooper.

  “Oh shit,” said Porter, the bag falling from his hands. It landed on the floor between the two beds, a variety of pastries spilling out onto the carpet. I took a second to mourn the loss of the pastries before I pulled myself back to the situation at hand.

  “It’s okay,” I said quietly, reaching out to grab Porter’s hand. I could feel Porter trembling, and it kinda broke my heart.

  Cooper was surveying us, his expression unreadable.

  “So,” he said. “Are you guys together then?”

  Porter looked helplessly back at me, his eyes wide.

  Oh god, I thought, this is too much for him.

  Taking a deep breath, I looked up at Cooper and said, “We are, yeah.”

  “Okay,” said Cooper. “We should probably talk about logistics.”

  “Logistics?” I asked, my hackles raising. “This is, quite frankly, none of your goddamn business.”

  I mean, seriously, logistics? That’s what he wanted to discuss ten seconds after he found out that Porter and I were sneaking around?

  “Levi,” Cooper cut in, his eyebrows drawn together, “I only have your best interest in mind.”

  “Best interest?” I repeated, my voice raising.

  “Yes, your best interest. You are on the precipice of launching your career, everything you do will be under a microscope before you know it,” said Cooper.

  “And you think that dating Porter is going to—what, throw a wrench in my career? You think I’m not going to make it big if I have a boyfriend?” I shot, my temper rising.

  “Shut the fuck up, Levi,” said Cooper, sounding hurt. “You know that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m not a fucking hypocrite. You have been openly gay for, like, a decade. Have I ever once implied that you should go back into the closet?”

  I shook my head, abashed.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  Cooper began pacing the room, walking tight circles across the garishly patterned carpet.

  “I’m just thinking about the insane amount of pressure that the limelight puts on relationships. I don’t want you to start something really great and then have it get smashed by the media and the gawking teenage fans and the paparazzi.”

  Porter, who had been watching Cooper and I arguing, his head going back and forth like he was watching a tennis match, finally spoke up.

  “You think anyone is going to care that Levi’s sleeping with his bus driver?”

  Cooper shrugged. “I don’t think it matters that you’re part of the tour. But anyone Levi dates from now on it going to subject to a hell of a lot of scrutiny.”

  I had a really shitty, sinking feeling in my gut. Somehow, I just didn’t think that Porter would be able to deal with all of that. Not when the…thing between us was so new and delicate or whatever.

  “So, what do we do?” I asked.

  “I guess that’s up to you,” said Cooper. “My gut instinct is that you should try to lay low. But I’m not going to tell you that you have to do that.”

  Thank fucking god, I thought. At least we don’t have to cope with Cooper bossing us around.

  “Right,” said Porter. He turned to me, his eyes pleading. “What do you think we should do?”

  Oh Porter, I thought. My dear, sweet Porter.

  “I think that we should live our lives,” I said. The words felt honest as they came out of my mouth, but the expression on Porter’s face made me wonder if I should have said them. “I’ve never let anything hold me back from expressing affection, and I’m not particularly interested in starting now.”

  Porter nodded, clearly turning it over in his head. At last, he looked back at Cooper and asked, “Can we have a few minutes alone?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” said Cooper. “We’re all supposed to make an appearance at a show in a dive bar tonight. I’ll text you when everyone else is ready to go, okay? Should be a few hours.”

  Once we were alone, I pulled back the covers and coaxed Porter into lying down beside me. I lay on my side, still completely naked, and Porter nestled up against my back, his jeans and t-shirt rasping against my skin. It was kinda nice, mimicking the position we’d been in during the shower, but this time it was all about comfort.

  We stayed spooned like that, holding hands and breathing deeply for quite a while. I wondered idly if Porter was going to fall asleep. It would have probably done him some good, to reset after such a tense interaction with Cooper. The silence allowed me to center myself, matching my breathing to Porter’s and letting my mind unspool all of the tightly coiled thoughts that I wasn’t quite ready to process.

  After quite a while Porter asked, “Does Cooper care that you’re gay?”

  I nestled further back against Porter and shook my head.

  “Nah, he’s bi, so it’d be pretty douchey for him to judge me.”

  “Oh,” said Porter. “He just seemed like…I’m not sure. Like he was upset when he saw us together.”

  “He was,” I said, “but not because you’re a guy.”
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  “Why then?”

  I sighed, wondering how to explain it.

  “Cooper has been through a lot of shit in his life. He’s the kind of guy who gets dealt a shitty hand and muscles through the pain and comes out the other side stronger for it. Which is, you know, admirable and stuff. But it means that he really, really doesn’t like to see other people go through painful things.”

  Porter shifted behind me.

  “What kind of stuff do you mean?”

  “Well,” I said, mulling it over. “His childhood was kind of rocky, which is why his parents sent him up to spend vacations with me and my parents. Just run-of-the-mill unhappy parents kind of stuff, you know. I think they divorced when he was like ten. And he worked really hard to pull through that and still do well in school and everything. He actually got a full ride to college because he did so well academically.”

  “That doesn’t sound all that shitty if I’m being honest,” said Porter.

  I nodded.

  “I know, just listen. So, during college he fell in love with this amazing woman, Stephanie. And they had this really solid relationship, all rainbows and butterflies, you know? They got married as soon as they graduated, and they started trying to have a kid.” I squeezed Porter’s hand, hoping that this wasn’t too much. “They couldn’t get pregnant, so they went to see a fertility specialist, and got all this testing done. And then some stuff was abnormal, so they had Steph go to the hospital and get a bunch more tests, and it turned out she had really advanced ovarian cancer. She died about a year and a half ago.”

  “Oh shit,” said Porter. “I’m so sorry. I mean, did you know her? Were you close?”

  “I did,” I said sadly. “She was great…you know, one of those people who just lights up the room when she walks in. She made everyone their best self. I spent a lot of time with her and Coop while she was sick. That was part of why I moved down to LA, so that I could be there for them.”

  Porter nuzzled up against my neck and whispered, “Thanks for telling me.”

  “Of course,” I said, reaching up to card a hand through his hair. “I want you to understand where he’s coming from.”

  “I appreciate it,” he muttered.

  Then we lapsed into silence. I stayed awake for a while, listening to his breathing, but eventually I succumbed to the tantalizing lure of sleep.

  New York City.

  Holy motherfucking shit, we were in New York City.

  We were performing in New York City.

  “Bro, we need to get going,” Dalton said as she strode past me.

  I was sitting in a little nook that I had found backstage, trying not to lose my fucking mind over the fact that we were actually backstage at The Metro Garden, prepping for a sold-out show. And there was Dalton, calm as can be, making her way toward the stage.

  “How long ’til we go on?” I called after her.

  She turned around and made a face at me.

  “Check your phone, my dude. Cooper just texted us.”

  So, I pulled out my phone—even though it would’ve been super easy for Dalton to just relay the message to me—and opened Cooper’s message.

  >>COOPER: Meeting in five, hit the stage in fifteen :)

  I took a deep, steadying breath and wondered where Porter was. He had dropped us off at the back entrance of the venue and then pulled away to find a place to park the bus. But that had been a while ago, and I really wanted to see him.

  I was kinda pathetic if I’m being honest. Things were heating up between us at a reasonable pace, but my feelings for him were catapulting forward in leaps and bounds that were probably wholly inappropriate given how short a time we had known each other.

  But whatever.

  I was falling in love. Screw the conventional timeline.

  I found Cooper, Dalton, and Eddie in the wings, huddled together. They were talking in low voices, so the roar of the crowd that awaited us drowned them out.

  “Y’all ready for this?” I asked, stepping into the huddle and elbowing Eddie to get her to give me a bit more room. She elbowed me right back, smiling.

  “Ready as I’m ever gonna be,” said Dalton. “I still can’t believe you managed to book us at The Metro Garden, Coop.”

  Cooper grinned. “I pulled some strings for y’all. You know I always look after my favorite band.”

  “Are we your favorite?” I asked, smirking. “You’re always telling us what a pain in your ass we are.”

  “Yeah, well,” said Cooper, a smile playing around his lips. “Maybe I say that to all the bands.”

  “Which part?” asked Eddie.

  “Both parts,” said Cooper.

  “Aw, Coop, you’re such a sweet talker,” teased Dalton.

  Cooper ruffled her hair affectionately. “I just wanted to check in before you head onstage. Everyone feeling good?”

  We all nodded, exchanging curious glances. It wasn’t like Cooper to act like such a mother goddamn hen.

  “Is there anything, uh, special about tonight?” asked Dalton. “Other than the venue being a fucking dream, obviously.”

  “Well,” said Cooper, struggling to keep his face neutral. “There is actually something you should know.”

  “What?” I asked, my heart sinking.

  Is something wrong? I thought. Oh shit, something’s gotta be wrong. Fuck fuck fuck.

  “Pigeon Kiss Media has an office in New York,” Cooper began.

  “Yeah, we know,” Eddie said.

  “Right, so one of the talent scouts is actually a fan, and he’s going to be in the crowd tonight,” said Cooper. “It might not mean anything, but if I’m being honest, well…let’s just say this guy has the power to get the ball rolling on a much better contract if he enjoys the show.”

  It’s funny, because I should’ve been over the goddamn moon. I really should’ve. But all I felt was a strike of fear, like a bolt of fucking lightning had struck me right between the eyes. A talent scout? A talent scout who was already a fan? This could be everything.

  Or, if I fucked it up, this could be the end of everything. Holy shit.

  Dalton and Eddie didn’t seem to have any of the same trepidation. They were freaking out in a happy way, cheering and hugging each other and asking Cooper a ton of questions.

  But me? I wanted to sink onto the floor and maybe breathe into a paper bag or something for a few hours.

  And I wanted Porter. His name began to echo through my skull, bouncing around and growing louder as time crept along.

  PorterPorterPorter…

  “Levi, are you—”

  “I’ll be back,” I mumbled, turning my back on the three of them and stumbling away.

  Panic, hot and black and cloistering, was beginning to get ahold of me. I could feel its claws sinking in, ripping my flesh and drawing blood. Fuck, I needed to get a grip.

  I pulled out my phone when I was alone, and with trembling fingers I shot off a text to Porter.

  >>LEVI: where r u?

  His reply came almost at once.

  >>PORTER: In the GA section, off to the right of the stage

  Well, shit.

  There was no way that I was going to get to him before the show, and there wasn’t much chance of him getting to me either. I drew in a shuddering breath and tried to think of what he had said before the other show to calm me down.

  Breathe in, one, two, three. Breathe out, one, two, three, four.

  Lather, rinse, repeat.

  I kept at it for a while, breathing along to the rhythm of Porter’s imagined voice in my head. And slowly—ever so goddamn slowly—the panic began to recede. Thank fucking god, because I needed to be onstage so, so soon. Fuck.

  “Levi?” came a voice, and I turned to find Eddie reaching out to touch my arm. “Are you okay?”

  I plastered a fake smile onto my face and nodded.

  “Of course.”

  She shot me a piercing look that made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t buying my bullshit. Which, I m
ean, was fair. But I continued on with the charade, and Eddie let me. She just kinda shepherded me in the right direction, and without any kind of ceremony she led me straight onto the stage.

  Bright lights, cacophonous cheers, the blinding attention of thousands of fans. Fucking fans, Jesus Christ. Whose life was I living?

  I threw on my rock star persona. It was all cool, sexy, aloof. The last dredges of panic fled in the face of Levi Montgomery, Rock Star.

  “New York goddamn City!” I purred into my mic. I could feel my body settling into its stage presence posture, and I took comfort in the fact that I could apparently lead a concert on autopilot. “How the fuck are you all doing?”

  The crowd roared, and I let the pulse of their joy crash over me.

  Somewhere out there was a talent scout.

  And Porter.

  God, I didn’t know whom I wanted to impress more.

  “This venue is very near and dear to us,” Dalton chimed in, and I swiveled to grin at her. The crowd ate it up, I could feel them salivating as they wondered why we loved this venue so much.

  “Are you really gonna tell them about that?” I asked, teasing the audience.

  Eddie rolled her eyes theatrically.

  “Oh, come on Levi,” wheedled Dalton. “They want to know.”

  I shook my head, pretending to be annoyed.

  There were shouts from the crowd, urging us to spill. I made a show of giving in.

  “Alright, alright,” I said, shaking my head. “Dalton and I weren’t exactly good kids.”

  “You can say that again,” said Dalton, grinning.

  “And when we were about…what, fifteen? We hitchhiked all the way down here from Maine.” The energy level in the crowd ramped up as we got into the heart of the story. “So, we had these fake IDs…really shitty ones, you know?”

  Dalton made a noise of mock indignation. “Shitty?!”

  “Bro,” I said, “the back sides were flipped upside down. They were shitty.”

  That got a laugh from the audience.

  “Fine, fine,” said Dalton, “but that wasn’t the only thing that got us caught.”