Worlds Away

by Alexa Land

  “It’s to keep out the riffraff,” Darwin said, knitting his brows as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, everyone who’s not like them. I know that type all too well. In fact, I was raised by a couple of ‘em. But I know how to get us in there, so come with me.”

  I assumed he’d lead us to the kitchen, where we’d all don cater-waiter uniforms, like they did in pretty much every movie involving someone trying to sneak into an event. Instead, he led us through an unmarked door into a no-frills corridor used by the hotel staff. It was a huge contrast to the posh, gold-toned public spaces the guests enjoyed.

  “The nice thing about working a crapload of miscellaneous part-time jobs,” he said, “is that you get to peek behind the scenes at a lot of different places. For four months last year, I worked maintenance at this hotel’s sister property. I thought it was interesting that every ballroom came equipped with one of these.” We stepped into a small room that was basically an electrical closet. “This is the nerve center for the ballroom. Lighting, heating and air conditioning, and music are all controlled from here. Then there’s this, which seemed odd to me at first.” He activated a little black and white screen, which showed the ballroom, and spun a dial, which piped in the ambient noise from the fundraiser.

  “Weird. I mean, I know every hotel has security cameras,” Josh said, “but why would you have this redundant security system?”

  “It’s actually not for security, it’s for the staff.” Darwin pulled out a stool from beneath a narrow counter and sat down as he said, “They can use this screen during an event to check and see how everything’s going without being obtrusive.”

  We watched as one of Huntington’s lackeys took the podium at the front of the room and began introducing Dick with a ridiculously glowing monologue. “Wow, that’s awesome,” Darwin muttered. “Huntington is a prince among men, truly. Just ask his hand puppet.” He glanced at Nana over his shoulder and said, “Do you just want to watch and listen, or do you want to ruffle some feathers?”

  She said, “Honey, if you’ve got a way to be a fox in that hen house, let ‘er rip! I’ll pay your bail if we get busted.”

  Darwin said, “Okay then, everybody try to stay quiet. They’ll be able to hear us as soon as I flip a switch on this control panel. Josh, will you please film this?” His boyfriend readily agreed, and Darwin smiled at him before accessing something on his phone.

  The man at the podium said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the next mayor of our great city, Richard Huntington!” The crowd cheered, and Darwin turned on a small microphone, then held his phone next to it. As Huntington strode toward the stage, the Imperial March from Star Wars began to blast over the ballroom’s P.A. system. Huntington looked furious as he took the stage. When he tried to speak into the microphone, Darwin tapped his phone’s screen, and Darth Vader’s deep, commanding voice invited the crowd to join the dark side. I had to bite my lip to keep from howling with laughter.

  But then, Darwin swung the mic up, leaned into it, and said, “Hi folks. Sorry to disrupt your party. It looks real nice, and I’ll let you get back to it in just a minute. But first, I want to share something with you that Mr. Huntington said to me earlier this week. If what you’re about to hear doesn’t bother you, then hey, go ahead and write that man a big, fat check, because clearly, he’s the right candidate for you. But if you think it’s wrong for anyone to speak to another human being like this, well, maybe think twice about giving him your hard-earned money.”

  He tapped another sound file on his phone, and for the next forty seconds, we all listened as Richard Huntington swore at and belittled Darwin. It ended with, “Why don’t you just kill yourself, you little freak?” It made my flesh crawl.

  Darwin turned off his phone, then said into the mic, “For the record, I’m an eighteen-year-old kid who happens to be transgender. I know that doesn’t sit well with some of you. But I’m hoping for one or two of you out there, that kind of hatred and bigotry doesn’t sit well, either. That’s all I wanted to say. Enjoy the party.” He flipped the switch, pushed the microphone aside, and got up from the chair with a sigh. “That probably won’t help at all, but the truth about who they’re voting for still needed to be put out there.”

  Josh put down his phone and wiped a tear from his cheek, then grabbed Darwin in an embrace and said, “You didn’t tell me you recorded it.”

  “I guess I wanted to document the type of stuff I deal with on a regular basis,” Darwin said, resting his cheek against Josh’s hair. “I wasn’t going to let you listen to that, because I knew it’d hurt to hear it. But then, I thought maybe some good could come of it if I showed people the real Huntington.”

  I muttered, “I’m gonna fucking kill him,” and took a step toward the door.

  “Not if I kill him first,” Nana growled.

  But Darwin stepped in front of both of us and said, “There are better ways to hit Huntington where it hurts. And right now, we just need to get out of here before security shows up.”

  I made myself shake out my clenched fists, and then I nodded, even though I was still seething with anger. Nana muttered, “You’re right. We need to get you boys to the suite before the fuzz rolls up on us and hauls us all to the pokey. But this shit ain’t over! Humpington’s ass is grass and I’m the fucking lawn mower!”

  When we reached the suite, we found Roger waiting for us, and Nana filled him in on what had happened. Meanwhile, Alastair grabbed Darwin in a hug and said, “I’m so sorry, mate. What that man said to you is inexcusable. I want you to know I’m going to research the other mayoral candidates and contribute heavily to the best one, to help ensure Huntington never reaches office. He’s a brute and a bigot, and no way should he be in any position of power.”

  When Alastair let go of him, Darwin looked at the floor and murmured, “Thanks, all of you, for, you know. Caring about what happened to me.”

  “Of course we care.” Nana’s dark eyes were misty. “You’re family! And I tell you what, I could not be prouder of you, Darwin, not only because you’re one of the smartest, handsomest, kindest young men I’ve ever known, but because what you just did back there was gutsy as hell.”

  “Plus, I almost pissed myself laughing at the Imperial March,” I said, in a clumsy attempt at lightening the mood.

  Surprisingly, it worked. We all had a good laugh and started talking about the perfection of that song choice and Huntington’s dumbfounded reaction. A smile spread across Darwin’s face, and pretty soon, he was chuckling with the rest of us.

  *****

  Alastair ordered us a huge feast from room service. He even included cake and ice cream, because he said we had reason to celebrate after ‘striking a blow against tyranny’. We all made ourselves comfortable in the suite’s beautiful red and gold living room and ate ourselves silly while we talked and laughed and enjoyed one another’s company.

  Roger’s phone jingled at one point, and he grinned when he looked at the screen. We learned he’d outsourced the poster job when we left him downstairs. A police officer had sent him packing when he tried to put up a sign across the street, so Roger paid a man with a delivery truck a hundred bucks to tape a couple posters on the side of his vehicle and drive up and down in front of the hotel. Apparently the driver and Ro had bonded quickly and exchanged business cards. The man texted him photos not only of the big truck, which he’d absolutely plastered in the ‘lick Dick’ posters, but also of the ‘gob-smacked’ faces of the well-to-do patrons who filtered out of the hotel. When I asked what gob-smacked meant, Roger let his mouth fall open and slapped his hand to his cheek. I chuckled and swore I’d try to work it into daily conversation.

  Later on, Nana called Josh’s dads and told them her great-grandson would be spending the night with her. Once that was done, she took a big bite of cake, put her stockinged feet up on the coffee table, and said, “This is fun! I haven’t been to a slumber party since…well, never, now that I think about it. We should do this more often!�
� She fell asleep five minutes later, snoring loudly with her head back and her mouth open. I carried her to one of the bedrooms and tucked her in under a fluffy comforter, then rejoined my friends. Alastair pulled a throw blanket over both of us, and I held him close as he snuggled against my side.

  “Today was wonderful,” he said softly. “We did so much good, between the work on the firehouse and taking a stand against a bigot. And I get to cap it off among friends, in the arms of the most handsome man in all the world. Every day should be just like this.”

  “Plus, there was cake,” Josh said, raising a dessert plate to us as if he was toasting. He grinned and rested his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

  Moments later, Roger’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, sat up and answered with a formal, “Yes, ma’am?” His expression grew grave as he listened to whoever was on the line. After a minute, he said, “Yes, ma’am,” again before holding the phone out to Alastair and saying, “You may want to take this in another room, mate.”

  Alastair looked perplexed as he put the phone to his ear and said, “Hello?” A few seconds later, he got up and wandered into the master bedroom.

  Roger was on his feet and looked like he was trying to think through a lot of things at once. When I asked who’d called, he muttered, “Alastair’s mum. She tried his phone first, but it kept going to voicemail.”

  “I think he left it in the car. Is something wrong?”

  “Alastair’s dad had a heart attack, and we need to fly home tonight. May I borrow your phone? I need to arrange our flight.”

  “Yeah, of course,” I mumbled as I handed it over. Roger paced beside the windows as he placed the call.

  When Alastair came back into the room a few minutes later, he looked so lost and pale, and my heart ached for him. I crossed the room and grabbed him in an embrace, and he murmured, “I have to go,” as he clung to me.

  “I know. Roger’s arranging the flight right now.”

  “I need my passport, it’s in the flat.” He sounded dazed.

  I said. “Mine is, too. I’ll pack a bag for both of us when we stop off there, it’ll just take a minute.”

  He looked up at me and whispered, with heartbreak in his eyes, “My father’s in grave condition. If I brought my boyfriend home, it would upset him and the rest of the family, and I just can’t do that. Not at a time like this, when it might actually have an impact on his health. I’m so sorry, Sawyer.”

  I totally understood what he was saying, so it shouldn’t have hurt. But it took some effort to sound positive as I said, “You’re right. Please just call me as soon as you can and let me know what’s going on.” Tears streamed down his cheeks as he stepped back from me and nodded.

  Roger ended his call and handed me the phone as he said, “You’ll take care of everything here, right Sawyer? Make sure Nana and the boys get home safe?” I told him I would.

  My heart broke into a million pieces at the raw agony in Alastair’s eyes. He took my face between his hands and kissed me. Seconds later, he and Roger were gone. I stared at the heavy, gilded door as it swung shut slowly in their wake.

  I’d never felt so helpless in my entire life.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You need to eat something, Sawyer.”

  “Not hungry.”

  “You need to eat anyway,” Gabriel insisted. “Otherwise, you’re going to get run down and feel terrible.”

  “That whole feeling terrible thing is a done deal.”

  “All the more reason to eat. I made my mom’s tortilla soup, guaranteed to cure whatever ails you.”

  He grinned at me when I glanced at him. Gabriel was in full makeup, since it was Friday night and he was scheduled to work. He wore black jeans and a slim-fitting black sweater, and the garment bag with his burlesque costume was draped over the back of the couch.

  After a pause, I muttered, “Yeah, okay,” and followed him to the little table in the breakfast nook.

  While we ate, he tried to distract me with stories about his mother and her relatives. They were migrant workers from Mexico, and devout Catholics who never quite knew what to make of Gabriel. When I asked about his dad, he said, “I barely know him. He and his family are a bunch of stuck-up, rich white people who’ve never wanted a damn thing to do with me. As far as they’re concerned, I’m just some mistake my dad made in his reckless youth. I hate the fact that my mom gave me their last name.”

  “I’m sorry they treat you like that.”

  “It sucks, but fuck ‘em. I don’t need or want anything from those people. They think I’m not good enough for them, but in truth, they’re not good enough for me.” He grinned a little and said, “When I was a kid, I used to tell people my last name’s Moriarty because I was named after the villain in the Sherlock Holmes books. I like that better than the truth.”

  “You’re better off without those assholes, and it’s totally their loss,” I said before eating a spoonful of soup, which was both delicious and rejuvenating. Ever since Alastair had taken off for the UK three days earlier, I’d been worried and distracted, and things like sleeping and eating properly had fallen by the wayside. Gabriel had been right about how much I needed a good meal.

  “For real.” Gabriel tossed a few jalapenos into his bowl and added a squeeze of lime as he changed the subject with, “So, are you skipping work again tonight?”

  “Yeah. I called Joan yesterday and told her I wouldn’t be in this weekend. Surprisingly, she didn’t fire me on the spot.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind and come to work with me? It might be good to keep busy.”

  “I just…can’t. Every single time I stripped, Alastair was in the audience. I always focused on him and pulled him into my act, and I just don’t want to do it without him. Besides the fact that I’m worried and distracted, the last thing I feel like doing right now is shaking my ass for a bunch of strangers.”

  “I’m worried about Alastair, too. He must have been so stressed out during his dad’s quadruple bypass. But…I guess I don’t understand why you’re still so concerned, Sawyer. I mean, you’re barely eating, and I hear you pacing around the apartment half the night, even though his dad made it through surgery and is going to be alright. Alastair’s probably relieved, but with each day that passes, you seem more worried, not less.”

  I put my spoon down and said, “That’s because I don’t think he’s coming back, Gabriel. His dad won’t be able to work for quite a while, and Alastair was supposed to return home in less than a year anyway. I bet they’ll expect him to stay and begin training to take over the company.”

  “Shit, I didn’t think about that.”

  “I hope to God I’m wrong. I’m not ready to say goodbye to him.”

  “You know what, Sawyer? You’d never be ready to say goodbye to him. Even if he’d left months from now as planned, you were going to end up devastated, no two ways about it. You can try calling it a fling all you want, and you can claim you just moved in here to be his roommate, but come on. You and Alastair are crazy about each other! When he walks into the room, you come to life! I can only dream about finding what you two have.”

  “I knew it was going to kill me when he went back home,” I said quietly. “I’ve always known that. But I thought I could just focus on making the most of every minute we had while trying like hell not to think about the future.”

  We talked for a few more minutes, and then Gabriel sighed and said, “I have to get going or I’m going to be late for work. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me and just hang out? I hate to leave you like this.”

  I told him, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright.” If only that was true.

  *****

  I paced around the apartment for the next hour or so, wishing Alastair would call. That was pretty unlikely though, since it was three a.m. in the UK. Plus, he was always at the hospital with his family and rarely had a moment to himself. He’d managed to contact me three or four times a day
since he’d been gone, but they were always just quick texts or calls lasting only a minute or two.

  When my phone buzzed in my hand, my heart leapt. But the message was from Kai, and it said: Hey. What are you up to? I assume you didn’t go to work tonight, since you seemed out of sorts when I talked to you a few hours ago.

  I wrote back, confirming my hermit status, and not twenty minutes later, the apartment’s intercom beeped. It turned out to be Kai and his family, and when I buzzed them in, little Isabella yelled, “Surprise!” She and her dads were all dressed in pajamas, and Izzy was clutching a big, white teddy bear, which matched the polar bears on her pink PJs. “We’re here for a pajama party,” she announced. “You need to put your ‘jamas on!”

  I stepped back and held the door open for them as Kai explained, “It’s an ambush pajama party. I know you’ve been feeling blue, so we’re forcing ourselves on you with junk food and a stack of Disney movies to try to cheer you up.”

  “Make yourselves at home while I change. Now, is this pajama level acceptable,” I indicated Kai, who wore a white T-shirt under a leather jacket, along with plaid pajama bottoms, “or do I need to go full Jessie?” His husband’s matched set of flannel pajamas were bright yellow and covered in a repeating pattern of cartoon dogs dancing with cartoon cats.

  “Hey, you do you,” Jessie said cheerfully.

  Since I normally slept naked, the best I could do was a pair of black cotton sweat pants. I paired them with some red wool socks and a red sweatshirt, hoping it would seem like I was making an effort at least, and joined my friends in the living room. Kai’s brows were knit as he pressed buttons on Alastair’s ridiculously advanced remote and kept alternating between the wrong menu and a black screen. Meanwhile, Jessie unpacked some snacks while Izzy tiled the coffee table with the movies they’d brought. She had the teddy bear in a headlock under her arm, and her expression matched her father’s, though in her case it reflected concentration, not frustration.