Impossible Things (Star Shadow #2)

by Bolden, Beth

  But Benji still felt himself stiffen as panic lanced through him, all sharp, pointy edges.

  There were going to be other shows, he reminded himself, trying to jerk himself back to reality, there would be other final bows.

  He wasn’t losing everything he’d been building since he was ten. He wasn’t losing Star Shadow. He wasn’t losing Leo to grief and depression.

  He wasn’t losing himself into a never-ending battle to reinvent himself into something cooler and more relevant.

  It was impossible to forget the horrible, blinding panic he’d felt when the remaining members of the band had voted to disband in the wake of Caleb’s disappearance and Leo’s complete breakdown. Everything he’d been working so hard at, for so many years, gone in an instant. He’d gone a little crazy. Married Sophie, even though he’d had doubts. Hired a new agent, and re-dedicated himself to never fucking failing again.

  The five of them bowed, and Benji only managed it by moving with them as one entity, as they’d done for so many years.

  He should have long since gotten over his fear of everything falling apart, of failure, but it still hung around like a bad stench, popping up in the worst possible moments. Like this one.

  All he should be feeling right now was joy, but instead it felt tinged with doubt and uncertainty and sheer blinding panic.

  The lights dropped and the five of them separated, moving toward the back of the stage and their green room.

  Benji handed his guitar to a stagehand and hoped he could fade into the shadows for a minute, give himself a moment to breathe and recollect himself before heading into the starkly bright light of the green room. In there, he wouldn’t be able to hide at all.

  “Are you okay?”

  Benji glanced up and of course it was Diego. Of course it would be him who’d know that something was wrong.

  He cleared his throat, his tongue suddenly thick in his mouth. The panic hadn’t faded entirely yet, and he felt too close to the edge still, but Diego reached out and cupped his shoulder with his hand. The fear retreated a little more.

  If he couldn’t be honest with Diego, could he be honest with anyone?

  “I was just thinking of the last bow, the one we took when we didn’t know it was the last one,” Benji admitted.

  After a moment of hesitation—which Benji understood entirely, their friendship sometimes seemed like a walk through a minefield—Diego pulled him into a hug. His hands hovered over Diego’s shoulders before giving in and gripping him tightly.

  They stood there together for a long moment, holding on to each other. Benji let his head fall down to Diego’s shoulder, but otherwise they didn’t move.

  “It was hard, because we didn’t know it was over, but it was over,” Diego finally said, the sound of the stagehands beginning to take down the stage around them punctuating his words. “But it turns out that it’s not really over after all.”

  Benji didn’t want to say that some mornings he woke up and for a split second he still thought it was over. That he sometimes had to remind himself that he wasn’t on his own again, that he wasn’t struggling with a career that didn’t fit quite right, that he didn’t miss his boys so much he ached, that he hadn’t ultimately crashed and burned.

  “It’s hard to forget, sometimes,” he said, even though he hadn’t really meant to say anything at all.

  Diego pulled back, and even in the dim of backstage, Benji could see the empathy in his eyes. “You know, you’re more than your achievements,” Diego pointed out softly.

  It wasn’t like he hadn’t been told that before, but something about the earnest belief in Diego’s voice made him want to believe this time. The problem was knowing, with crystal clear clarity, what he was capable of. And never being able to settle for less than that, without that ugly voice yelling in his ear that he’d failed again.

  “I know.” Benji’s smile was wry. “Theoretically.” Reluctantly, he let go of Diego. Too long holding him, too long of them holding each other, and he was going to want even more than he already did.

  Diego laughed. “Yeah, that’s the whole problem. Theoretically. You’re rich and famous. You don’t need to work so hard all the damn time. You’ve made it, Benji.”

  All theoretically true.

  If only that voice would shut the fuck up sometimes.

  “Yeah,” Benji said, rolling his eyes. “I know.” He paused. He and Diego had been practically inseparable this tour, but it was ending tonight, and they had two weeks in LA before the recording sessions on the new album started. Even though they’d spent so much time together already, the idea of a two-week break from Diego hurt. It had never hurt before. Somehow, Benji knew, they’d crossed that point of no return. Friendship alone would never be enough again. Had it been the kiss? He could barely remember it, it had been so short and brief. Nothing like he’d always imagined. He’d wanted a do-over for the last six months, but maybe they needed more privacy for that.

  “Hey,” he started again hesitantly, “we should get together when we get back to LA.”

  Diego was leading the way back to the green room and didn’t look at Benji. “I’m not sure. I’ll probably be busy with Ana.”

  Benji knew how much he loved his daughter, and how much he’d missed her on this tour, even though his ex, Vicky, had brought her to as many tour stops as she could. So he didn’t know what to say to that. Even though it was probably true, it was hard not to see it as a brush-off. Diego was good with people; he wouldn’t give a brush-off that felt like one. He’d make it sound legit, all to spare Benji’s feelings.

  The question was why was he brushing him off, right after hugging and reassuring him? Benji didn’t know, and didn’t know how to bring it up, because they were walking into the green room, and Max was spraying the walls with a bottle of sparkling apple juice and Leo and Caleb were dancing to the Black Eyed Peas, their favorite post-show soundtrack.

  Benji let himself get pulled into the celebration, because resisting his best friends was difficult normally, but impossible now. But he still noticed out of the corner of his eye that Diego avoided meeting his eyes, and even skirted around the other side of the dancing group so that he wouldn’t be right next to Benji, touching again.

  It hurt, even though Benji tried to ignore it and told himself that he was imagining things.

  After the Black Eyed Peas finished singing about what a good night it was going to be, Max announced that a band he knew was playing in the area, and they should all go. Everyone agreed, and Benji gave himself a very stern reprimand that he was reading too much into Diego’s hesitancy. It was the end of a long tour. They weren’t as young as they’d used to be. He could be tired. Maybe he’d had plans to Skype with Ana and Vicky.

  He wasn’t avoiding Benji; he couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be.

  ———

  At the venue, they were led to the VIP section, and for once, Leo hung back instead of hanging all over Caleb.

  One thing Benji did not miss about Leo and Caleb being back together was how sometimes it felt like them, and then the rest of Star Shadow—and goddamn it, sometimes he missed his best friend, even though he was right there.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” Leo said. “I thought you’d be on top of the world. New album. New contracts. New management. All your doing.”

  Benji decided to use his excuse for Diego. It was technically true, right? “I’m just tired. It was a long tour and we’re not eighteen anymore.”

  Leo shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “You guess we’re not eighteen still?”

  Leo’s answering smile was wicked at the edges. He’d always been the most annoying friend Benji had ever had, and yet also the best. Sometimes he wondered if those two things weren’t correlated. “I mean, I guess I can let you get away with claiming exhaustion. You need us to airlift you to Mt. Sinai?”

  “You’re a pain in the ass.”

  �
�A pain in your ass,” Leo retorted with glee.

  Seeing Leo at peace with himself and with Caleb was like seeing the old version of Leo all over again. Before anything had gone wrong. Before he’d locked himself away.

  “I’m just happy you’re happy,” Benji said.

  Leo tried to argue by making a horrid face at Benji’s sappiness but ended up breaking into a smile instead. “Yeah, I am, aren’t I? Wow, I never thought I’d be back here again.” He glanced over at Benji, and then over at Diego, who was chatting with Max. “You should give it a try. The water’s fine.”

  Benji frowned. Leo always—well, almost always—meant well, but this was like salt in an open wound. “The water’s a bit chilly, if I’m being honest.” What he wanted was Leo to tell him he was crazy and that he was imagining things.

  Leo looked surprised, which helped, but his words didn’t. “Really? Well, you never thought this was going to be easy. Things that are worth it generally aren’t.”

  “No shit,” Benji said sarcastically.

  “You really are in a bad mood,” Leo said. “Did something happen? Do you want me to talk to him?”

  “God no. I’ve done enough damage, I can’t imagine what you’d do on top of it.”

  “Point,” Leo conceded. “I’m not exactly the most emotionally mature person on the planet. How about this? When it goes badly, as I’m sure it will at more than one point, I’ll willingly come with you to the gym. No complaints, even though I’ll hate every second.”

  Benji’s gaze narrowed. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  Leo raised his hands in mock surrender. “You know I’m shit at this.”

  Benji knew, which was why he didn’t often ask Leo for advice. Who did he talk to? Diego, who he couldn’t go to with this at all. What could he say? I’m sorry, but what do I do when I’ve been in love with someone for nine years and spent all that time pushing them away? How do I stop pushing and start pulling?

  It was a clusterfuck, that was for sure.

  Max approached. “This is supposed to be a celebration, not you two over here in the corner, gossiping. And for God’s sake, Benny, get that frown off your face. If you’re not careful it’s gonna freeze like that and then nobody will want to fuck you anymore.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Benji asked.

  Max nodded sagely. “It’d be a real damn shame too. Just when you were free to actually get fucked again.”

  He should have been offended that Max was so callous about his failed marriage, but he wasn’t, which said everything about his marriage that needed to be said. He’d never cared enough to even give a shit when people pointed out how much he hadn’t cared.

  Glancing up, he met Diego’s eyes. He was still over by where he and Max had been standing, and he was currently twisting the cap on a bottle of water over and over. He might pretend not to be involved or even interested, but he was. They’d always been drawn to each other like magnets, and that hadn’t changed.

  “I still think Benji’s pretty cute,” Leo said, reaching up and attempting to pinch Benji’s cheek. He swatted Leo’s hand away, eventually grabbing him by the wrist when he wouldn’t quit.

  Caleb meandered over, crushing peanut shells, the shredded remains joining weeks’ worth on the floor. Leo stopped struggling and glanced over at his boyfriend. “Save me,” he pleaded. “I’ve been taken prisoner by a horrible man who wants to compromise my virtue.”

  Benji rolled his eyes and tried to prevent the flush from rising on his cheeks. Leo was his best friend, and he’d never had any more than a stray sexual thought about him. But Leo casually talking about him being attracted to men in general still made him a little uncomfortable.

  “I don’t think it’s your virtue he wants to compromise,” Max pointed out.

  It was impossible not to glance up at Diego again. After Caleb had come over, he was now the only one standing over by himself, pretending to watch the mediocre opener, fingers clenched determinedly on the water bottle in his hand. His teeth sank into his bottom lip and, not for the first time, Benji thought about what it would be like if those teeth were his. Their one kiss had been so brief, so fleeting, so unlike anything Benji had wanted it to be, it was tough to see it as anything other than a mistake.

  But that didn’t mean he wasn’t dying to correct it, practically every second of every day. He’d found the courage once, but that had been born of fear and despair, not yearning, and now he wasn’t sure he’d ever find enough again.

  Caleb was the tallest guy in the band, but even though he had some muscle hidden on his lean frame, Benji didn’t feel exactly threatened. His personal trainer would have laughed if Benji had expressed doubt about being stronger than Caleb. Benji and Gray had been working together almost since the end of Star Shadow, when the last thing Benji had wanted to do was sit in his house and do nothing but contemplate the ruin of his career. Gray had given Benji something to work for, a goal to achieve, and now his black t-shirts and leather jackets hid a body that even Benji could be proud of.

  Still, he dropped Leo’s hand. He knew exactly what his best friend was doing, and he wasn’t going to play that game. “Your faux virtue is now safe,” he muttered.

  “Maybe from Benji.”

  Benji looked over and Diego was walking over, his words making it crystal clear that he’d been listening to the whole conversation. Leo smiled because Diego joining them had obviously been one of the end goals he’d been trying to achieve.

  “Yeah,” Max gave a short bark of laughter, “I think that ship’s already sailed, at least where Caleb’s concerned.”

  Only a minute ago, Benji would have been downright thrilled to have the conversation switch back to the subject of Leo and Caleb’s seemingly insatiable mutual lust, but now? It was hard to watch Leo flutter his eyelashes at his boyfriend, and Caleb’s slow, eyelash-singeing smile back.

  You are not jealous, Benji told himself firmly, but it was hard to identify the feeling swirling through him as anything else. You just want that, too, and you want that with Diego.

  “I hate being up here,” Benji complained. “I’m going to go downstairs.”

  Max raised an eyebrow. “You wanna mingle with the commoners?”

  Benji didn’t answer him. Instead, he directed all his attention toward Diego. “What do you think?” he asked.

  It was the second time in only a handful of hours that he’d been as direct as he dared with Diego. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t exactly a declaration of intent and it definitely wasn’t a declaration of love, but damnit, he was trying.

  And for the second time, Diego just shrugged. “It’s okay up here,” he said.

  It was obvious how interested the rest of the band was in this exchange, because for once, nobody interjected any snarky comments or interrupted and offered to go downstairs with Benji instead. Everyone just held their breath and waited to see what would happen.

  Benji wanted to believe he was above it, but he wasn’t. He waited with everyone else, hoping desperately that Diego wouldn’t turn him down again.

  “It’d be better downstairs,” Benji argued when Diego didn’t seem inclined to change his mind. His words weren’t true at all, and he hoped the transparency of the lie made it clear what his real, ulterior motive was.

  “Probably not, but okay.” Diego sounded reluctant and extremely dubious, but he’d agreed, and when they ducked under the red velvet rope at the top of the stairs leading to the VIP area, Benji swore he saw a flash of pleasure on his face. Like he’d been happy Benji had asked, except instead of showing it, he’d hid it.

  It wasn’t fair. Benji knew that he’d not only avoided Diego before, he’d given deliberately evasive answers and hidden his feelings not just once, but dozens and dozens of times. They’d done it to each other, for years, even. Still, there was something about this time that particularly stung.

  Maybe nothing had changed for Diego, but things were changing for Benji.

  He was done lyi
ng to himself, and he wanted, desperately, to stop hiding. He wasn’t sure how to move forward after those two realizations, but he was trying, goddamn it, and he wanted them both on the same page.

  At the bottom of the staircase was a bar. Upstairs, they’d been drinking water, mostly in deference to Caleb, but now to Benji’s surprise, Diego reached out and grabbed his hand for a split second, tugging it in the direction of the bar.

  Maybe that was what Diego thought Benji had been implying. That he wanted to go downstairs so he could drink, and he’d wanted company—and not Diego’s company specifically.

  The bar was crowded, and while Benji’s solo career had been a flop by any standard definition, he was still recognizable. The crowd melted away and let the pair of them through. Resting his elbows on the bar, Benji glanced over at Diego.

  He was rolling up the sleeves of his oversized t-shirt, the fabric thin enough that Benji could see his tattoos through it. The rose over his heart, the thorns swirling down his side, disappearing under the waistband of his jeans.

  Benji remembered the first time he’d ever seen the tattoo, and recognized his speechlessness as one of the first steps on the path toward whatever the fuck was going to happen with them. Even more incredible had been Diego’s confession that he’d drawn and designed it himself.

  Someday, Benji had promised himself, Diego would draw a tattoo for him, and it would be personal and meaningful and if he was really fucking lucky, they would’ve figured their shit out, and it would also be full of love.

  And not the garden variety of friendly, platonic love, but the heart-racing, fingertips-pressed-to-bare-skin, panting, life-altering, world-burning love that he’d always believed they were capable of together.

  “You want something?” he asked Diego as the bartender approached.

  “We’re in Texas,” Diego said with a wry twist of his lips. “Guess we better make it a whiskey.”

  “Two,” Benji said to the bartender.