by HJ Welch
Maybe he could try bar work? There were plenty of gay bars around LA, some of them were bound to be hiring.
Unless…
Corey sat up on his bed, staring at nothing for several moments.
Here he was raging about the inequalities for LGBT people…what if there was a job he could do to help that? What if there was an LGBT organization in the area that he could do admin work for? Or web design, or marketing promo, or fuck, he’d make coffee for a place that was working for the betterment of queer people.
He opened a new tab on his internet browser, excitement tingling in his chest. He started by searching for LGBT charities and organizations in the city or a drivable distance away. Then he went page by page, seeing if any of them were hiring.
When he got through the first ten and realized none of them were advertising positions available, he went back through them and began dropping them emails on the off chance. He explained he was looking to give back to his community and would be willing to consider anything.
Then he found it. The Rainbow Roofs Trust, based right here in good old Los Angeles.
‘RRT is a voluntary organization dedicated to aiding lesbian, gay, bi and trans young people in the California region who find themselves in a housing crisis situation. Homeless, sleeping rough or unsafe living environment, RRT can help young people in their time of need. We can offer many forms of assistance, including finding emergency accommodation, mentor plans, helping youths developing key life skills and much, much more.’
Corey blinked, trawling through every inch of their website. They didn’t have anything to indicate they were hiring, but his heart was pounding in his chest.
This was the one.
If he could find a way to help kids like him, the way he’d never been helped when he’d been left to flounder in the foster care system, he considered that to be a pretty worthwhile goal. Hell, if he couldn’t find a job here, he wanted to volunteer for them, or something. They were accepting runners for the LA marathon in March and asking people to donate time to their food centers. Somehow, Corey was determined he was going to get involved with this organization.
Reyse was stuck under the thumb of people who believed he was less than them because he was gay. As much as it pained him, Corey couldn’t do anything to help him more than he had already. But he could help to build a better tomorrow for LGBT people. The more queer kids who grew up with support, the more parents and teachers that could be educated, the better tomorrow would look for the LGBT community.
Corey quickly typed out an email…then spent the next hour fretting over every word, tweaking it until he couldn’t see straight. He took a deep breath, clicked send, then immediately closed his laptop. As much as he would welcome an email back from any of the other places he had contacted, he had only sent them a vague couple of lines expressing his interest. He’d practically begged RRT for a chance.
He stared at the closed laptop for several seconds before lurching to his feet, grabbing his wallet and keys, thrusting his feet into his boots, and heading out the door. If he stayed in his room, he was going to go nuts.
By the time he reached the bar down the street, he felt vaguely able to breathe again. He ordered a beer and resisted the urge to check his emails or to Google Reyse Hickson. Neither subject was completely off his mind, but as Corey ordered a burger and fries and another beer he was able to slowly relax.
His life had possibility. That wasn’t something he had really considered before. He was still only able to pick at his fries, because there was no escaping the emptiness losing Reyse had left him. Not just yet. But the gaping hole in his chest was slightly smaller thanks to the hope contacting Rainbow Roofs had given him.
And when he finally cracked and checked his email, he was rewarded with a message from Rainbow Roofs, excitedly asking if he’d like to come in for an interview next week for an admin role.
Corey wasn’t generally an emotional person, but he did get a lump in his throat as he wrote back a reply saying he’d love to.
If he had to choose, he’d pick to be with Reyse. But if he couldn’t have that – which Corey honestly did know he couldn’t – he decided to take this heartbreak as the kick up the ass he needed to sort his life out.
If he opened himself up to other opportunities, if he became more involved with the queer community, who knew where his life would take him? He could honor his and Reyse’s time together by making life better for others. If Corey helped just one kid out there to be able to stay with the person they loved, then maybe their sacrifice would be worth it.
It wasn’t until Corey was back at his apartment, several beers inside him as he lay in bed, that he realized he’s admitted he was in love with Reyse.
His smile from the email faded.
Reyse was the only one he wanted to tell about his job interview, but he couldn’t. He wanted to cuddle up with Reyse and celebrate, just the two of them. He wanted Reyse to tell him he was proud of him.
Corey closed his eyes and felt the room spin around him as he brushed the tears from his cheeks. He didn’t appreciate it was possible miss someone so much it made you physically ache. He’d never known his biological parents nor his adopted parents, so he’d not been able to grieve for them.
But he grieved for him and Reyse.
In the morning, he’d remember that he was happy and excited about his new job opportunity. He was going to get on with his life, just like he hoped Reyse would. But for now, in the privacy of his own room, Corey cried, hard, like he hadn’t since he was a teenager.
Eventually, he calmed, running out of tears. It felt better to let it all out. He fell asleep, wishing Reyse sweet dreams, wherever he was.
Maybe, if the universe was kind, Reyse might just know Corey was thinking about him still. That he’d be thinking about him always, in one way or another. But for now, he let the darkness claim him, washing away his sadness.
23
Reyse
The T-shirt no longer smelled of Corey.
It was bound to happen. It had been weeks since they’d seen each other. But still, the realization made Reyse’s heart hurt.
Corey’s social media profiles were well hidden, if they existed at all. So even on a general browser, Reyse could find nothing of him. All he had left was one photograph and a generic white shirt that smelled more of Reyse than it did of Corey now. Still, Reyse wore it to bed every night, even after he’d washed it. It made him feel slightly less alone.
He’d also saved the photo as many places as he could while making sure it was still secure. If he got hacked like Raiden had a couple of years ago, it could be bad. But at this point, Reyse didn’t care. His security was top notch, but also as far as he was concerned, the damage had been done. It mattered more to him now to make sure he never lost that picture.
Sure, Kevin’s little stunt had put a Band-Aid on the issue for now. But blogs were still running daily speculation pieces about Reyse’s sexuality. Apparently, his fake-dating Bella wasn’t quite enough anymore, not once they’d realized that Reyse hadn’t dated anyone else at all in the past decade.
More than that, though, Reyse didn’t care. He and Bella were in the process of their fake-breakup whether Kevin liked it or not. Because there was no way he was putting Bella and her new boyfriend through the same hell as he and Corey had endured. Even if they’d postponed their ‘parting’ for the time being, just while the dust settled around all these articles. Reyse felt bad for delaying her and Tony’s relationship in the meantime. But the press was also dragging her for not being supportive enough and making up stories about more of his sordid encounters with men. Anything to get clickbait.
So Kevin’s new great idea was to have Reyse reschedule his interview with Kimmy Kovac, the nation’s favorite daytime talk show. Not ignore it all and work on the new record like Reyse wanted to do. No, Kevin wanted to make sure any hint of Corey was dead and buried. That sadistic asshole.
Apparently, the label’s PR people wer
e convinced that because Kimmy was a beloved lesbian, she could talk about Reyse’s gay ‘rumors’ in a safe environment without it becoming too tricky. She would be a sympathetic ear, allowing Reyse to tell his side of the story. He could explain that he had absolutely nothing against the LGBT community, just that wasn’t who he was. Then he’d present a big, fat check for some charity Kevin was going to choose for him, and continue to try and sweep Corey firmly under the rug.
As he drove out to Kimmy’s studio, Reyse cursed to the high heavens whoever had taken those fucking photos. Being a celebrity meant giving up a certain amount of anonymity, he had always understood that. There were a lot of things he was prepared to go without. But whoever had made a fast buck out of snooping on him and Corey had robbed Reyse of one of the best people he had ever met in his life.
In moments like this, he tried to convince himself he was crazy. That he couldn’t be sure he was in love after such a short amount of time. But his heart wasn’t lying, not after all these weeks apart.
He missed Corey like he was missing a part of himself. Like he’d lost a limb and now had no idea what to do with himself.
It wasn’t a long drive, so he closed his eyes and tried to meditate, or at least take deep breaths and clear his mind. This was an important interview. The kind that could decide the course of his career. He trusted Kimmy. He’d worked with her several times before and she genuinely seemed to have a good heart. All he had to do was follow her instinct, and allow her to help him lie through his ass.
Somehow, this felt like even more of a betrayal of Corey than leaving him and agreeing to that damn restraining order. But it had to be done.
Kimmy’s studio was all light blue and shiny chrome, her smiling face and the show’s logo plastered on every surface. PAs ran all over the place, ushering the guests around who would appear before Reyse, including a guy with a live hawk on his arm and a six-year-old girl who’d uploaded a version of herself singing Lolita Charisma on YouTube and gone viral.
Luckily, the audience was kept well away, so Reyse didn’t have to deal with anyone gawking as he was escorted to makeup. Kevin met him there, although he spent the entire time out in the corridor on the phone, angrily debating something with someone, looking like a jackass with his shades on indoors. Reyse was sure it wasn’t to do with him for once, so he tuned it out.
The makeup artist was a super sweet twinky guy who had better highlighter and brows than most people Reyse had ever seen. Reyse tried not to stare as a PA got him into a chair, then dashed off to deal with the hawk and their feeding time.
The makeup artist smiled warmly. “My name’s Billi with an I, and I’ll be looking after you today. Okay, sweetie?” He winked at Reyse.
Reyse wondered what it would be like to be that out and proud. He wasn’t inherently that camp – the only way his career had survived thus far – but he felt a mixture of envy and pride as he smiled at Billi with an I.
“If you can make me look half as good as you, I’ll be impressed,” Reyse said with a nod and a wink toward Billi’s flawless foundation.
“Oh, stap,” Billi said with a limp wrist, owning the gesture that Reyse had seen used in such a derogatory way for gay men so many times. Billi spun on the spot as he fetched facial cleanser and cotton pads. “She’s good, but she’s not a miracle worker, honey.”
Reyse laughed. He knew he was in safe hands with someone who wasn’t afraid to tease him.
He watched Billi quietly as he worked his magic while bantering easily with the rest of the makeup, hair and wardrobe team. Billi was absolutely nothing less than one hundred percent himself the entire time Reyse was there.
Completely camp. Completely gay.
“Howdy, howdy!” a voice rang out from near the door. Reyse looked up from his chair while Billi smoothed over his cream bronzer. Reyse couldn’t help but smile at the gangly ball of energy that bounded into the room like Tigger from Winnie-the-Pooh.
It was difficult to feel down around Kimmy Kovac. A small woman with a pixie cut in her midforties, she was already wearing her signature jeans, sneaker and button-down combo, ready for filming. Reyse was surprised she wasn’t wearing something crazy, but then he figured this was her version of somber in honor of the serious situation he was in.
Last time he’d been a guest, she had scared him with a gorilla costume he’d thought was a lifeless prop until she’d jumped out at him. The cameras hadn’t even been rolling. It was just her sense of humor to hide in cupboards and scare her friends and coworkers.
“Hey, buddy, how you doing?” she asked, lightly smacking his arm and pushing her black-framed glasses up her nose. She had a squeaky voice that added to her youthful, energetic persona. “Billi taking care of you?”
“He is,” Reyse said, smiling at his makeup artist. Billi squeezed his knee, then carried on working.
Kimmy perched on the edge of the counter where Billi had his supplies laid out. “I just wanted to say howdy, you know,” Kimmy said, nodding to herself. “Check you were a-okay. Nothing to worry about. I got all the questions from your, uh, manager-friend-person out there.” She waved her fingers out toward where Kevin was still ranting on the phone. “It’s tough when the boss gets mad, huh?”
Reyse licked his lips, unsure what to say. He felt strongly Kimmy was in his corner, but he was conscious of making things any worse with Sun City than they already were. However, he would be a fool to forget that she was speaking from firsthand experience. Back in the nineties, when Kimmy had been one of the first celebrities to come out of the closet, she’d lost everything. Her network had dropped her sitcom just like Sun City was threatening to do with Reyse’s record contract.
But she’d built herself up again, stronger than ever before. Her show was such a huge success now she gave checks away weekly to send underprivileged kids to college. She once gave her whole audience a damn car each. She launched entire careers just by featuring people like the six-year-old Lolita Charisma girl on her show. Her opinions shaped the way America thought.
“I’m just sorry this whole mess happened,” Reyse said evasively. “Thank you for understanding. I’d never want to offend the LGBT community.”
Kimmy blinked and grabbed his hand between her small ones. “Oh, hon, no. You didn’t offend – we’re not offended, are we, Billi?”
“No, ma’am,” Billi said, shaking his head.
“It’s just so funny how people get these ideas into their head, isn’t it?” Kimmy said, shaking her head. “But we’ll fix it, you’ll see. You just go out there and give ‘em hell. ‘Kay?”
Give ‘em hell? Reyse didn’t really feel like that. He felt more like a puppy with his tail between his legs.
But Kimmy was grinning at him, scrunching up her button nose. So he squeezed her hand. “Sure,” he said.
“There you go, honey, all done,” Billi said, spinning Reyse in his chair to look in the mirror.
Kimmy let go of him and hopped to her feet. “Okay, hon, I’ll see you out there!”
“Bye,” Reyse said as she jogged from the room. Then he looked at Billi in the mirror’s reflection. “I look great,” he said genuinely. “Thank you.”
Billi nodded. “You do,” he agreed, somewhat seriously, considering how flamboyant he’d been acting.
Reyse pulled the tissues from around his neck and stood up, offering his hand out to shake. “It was a pleasure meeting you today, Billi. Really,” he said.
He expected Billi to scoff and brush him off. But Billi took his hand, then placed his other one over the back of Reyse’s as well. “You too, baby,” he said sincerely.
Reyse walked out into the hall, aware he was frowning and chewing on his lip. Kimmy and Billi had been so supportive, thinking he was straight yet wanting to still support the LGBT community. But it was a lie, it was a fucking lie. He was as gay as either of them, just too afraid to admit it out loud.
Kevin scowled at him while still talking on the phone. The two of them followed yet another PA who
escorted them backstage, taking Reyse behind the entrance screen for his entrance.
He was so scared of losing everything…but that was what Kimmy had done almost two whole decades ago. She had been given the ultimatum of living as her authentic self or keeping her career safe. She had chosen to jump without a parachute, giving the middle finger to those who’d tried to hold her down.
Give ‘em hell.
Reyse couldn’t even tell the truth. How could he stand up for himself?
For Corey?
The lights changed and the music cued, giving him only a second to compose himself as the doors slid open, revealing him to a hysterically screaming live audience and half a dozen cameras, broadcasting live all across America. Later, it would go all over the world.
Reyse smiled and waved. Apparently, the audience had been given no clue they’d be seeing him today, judging by the way some of the women were crying and pulling at their hair.
The usual adrenaline kicked in, forcing him to react on instinct as he jogged to the center stage and hugged Kimmy before taking his seat on the couch. It was incredibly humbling to see people react to his presence like that.
He couldn’t let them down.
Yet, it was like he was behind a glass wall, not really able to fully process what was in front of his eyes, or what was coming out of his mouth. He told Kimmy it was a pleasure to be back, and he meant it, and they swapped a little chitchat about how Reyse would soon be recording his new album. At least he hoped he would, but he didn’t say that out loud.
“So, you’ve had a tough couple of weeks, am I right, buddy?” Kimmy asked.
She tapped Reyse’s knee and smiled. She always reminded him of one of his favorite school teachers from when he was in second grade. Fun, but fair, with a glint in her eye that said it would be a good idea not to mess with her or anyone she cared about.