by Lina Langley
Sometimes, Max couldn’t believe that this was his job. He enjoyed it so much and the fact that he was getting to perform for people in the first place was amazing. The show was good, the crowd went from great to amazing, and by the time that the crowd was asking for an encore, Max knew that he would come back. He could feel the love coming through from every member of the audience, from every single scream, every single shout.
The lights went off and Max sighed with relief. It didn’t matter how good the show was, the fact that it hadn’t been a fiasco was always a relief. He would still have to do the awful meet and greet, but once that was over, he would hopefully manage to get some sleep. If his back wouldn’t protest too much. He could feel how bad it was when he had been leaning down and playing guitar, but his adrenaline had been pumping. That meant that he wasn’t in pain while the gig was happening but he was likely to feel it later. At least he was tired.
The band was taken to the room where they were going to meet people. Luckily, it wasn’t that small, and it was part of the venue. It was a little sitting room with a sofa and a lot of chairs. He didn’t mind that so much. It was better than standing. His feet needed relief, but mostly his back needed relief. He was glad he wasn’t carrying anything on his back anymore. He loved playing his instrument, but leaning down and looking at it, whether on a bench or standing up, was sure to make him feel worse. In truth, he didn’t want to stay there and listen to people tell him how much they loved his music. It felt like an exercise in futility. Of course they loved his music, they wouldn’t be there to see him if they didn’t at least like it. Max didn’t need to know anything else about them.
After the show, he always longed for his apartment. For his bed, especially. The sweet relief of his expensive mattress, he thought, closing his eyes. He opened them again once the door to the sitting room was open once more. He heard the squeaking, the noise when a member of his crew opened the door, the giggling of the fans outside. There was usually an equal number of men and women, and Max could have easily taken his pick, but he had yet to sleep with a fan.
It felt wrong, like he was taking advantage of someone vulnerable. Plus, he was a persona to them, not a person, and that little letter made a world of difference. He looked around at the fans that were already filing into the room. They were giggling and smiling, looking at him, pointing at him. Max didn’t love to be gawked at, but he supposed it came with the job. He smiled at them as warmly as he could. He knew that he was supposed to be grateful for them but they wore him down.
His gaze darted around until it settled on one of the fans that had come in. He was standing in his place in line, not moving at all, not taking any pictures. He was with a woman and they were talking in hushed tones—rather, she was talking to him—but it didn’t look to Max like they were together. When he stared at them, he thought that they both looked quite similar to one another, in actuality. Maybe she was a relative.
Max could tell that the man was checking him out. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking, because the man was gorgeous. He wasn’t exactly the type of man that Max would normally go for, at least not nowadays, but he was gorgeous nevertheless. He wasn’t like the stars that Max had been with, who were often tall, lean, muscular. He was short and stocky, with a broad back and gorgeous long black eyelashes that covered glimmering eyes. His eyes were light, though Max couldn’t tell exactly what color they were from where he was sitting. All that he could tell was that they were bright, big and beautiful.
He didn’t want to beckon this man over because it felt wrong to use his influence like that. Plus, there was a chance that Max was wrong, because he could just be an admirer of his music. The way that people looked at him was often difficult to discern. Sometimes it was completely aspirational and sometimes there was something lustful about the way that they were looking at him. He hoped that this man fit in the latter category, but he realized that he wouldn’t know unless he spoke to him. It took him a considerable amount of effort, but he put his hand up and beckoned him with one of his fingers. He didn’t want the rest of his fans to think that he was singling someone out, but he was. He was tired. He wanted to go home. He didn’t care what they thought, he told himself, he had done his job and he had done it well. That was the most that they could expect from him, surely. He didn’t want to phone it in. He wondered if he was.
The cute man could still turn away from him. Some couples did end up looking like each other. But that wasn’t what was happening, because the cute man was pointing at himself and raising his eyebrows in a clumsy imitation of a questioning notion. Max didn’t want to laugh, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something so disarmingly charming and equally goofy about the way that he had done that that even though Max hadn’t intended to laugh at all, he couldn’t help it. He closed his eyes and smirked, which quickly turned into laughter. He tried to stop himself from laughing too much, because he didn’t want to make him feel bad. His night was already getting better, he just needed to talk to him. That was all that Max wanted to do, in any case. He wanted to make it clear that he was talking to him, so began to curl his finger in a way that meant that he could should come over. The man appeared to be struggling with the concept and Max couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Nothing would happen if he didn’t go over to where Max was sitting, but he had suddenly started to look forward to it, probably far more than he should have. He was being childish, and he was quite aware of that, but he didn’t even care. He just wanted to speak to this man, to talk to him. He needed to.
The man looked at the woman standing next to him. Max felt his heart drop to his stomach. If they were a couple, this could be passed off as little more than a misunderstanding, but Max would still feel disappointed by it. He had built this up to be something else in his head. The woman smirked, a conspiratorial look on her face, and nodded. The man’s gaze darted between Max and his companion before he hesitantly started to walk toward Max.
In theory, Max wanted to get up and go and greet him, because that was the least that he could do. He didn’t just want the cute guy with the sparkling eyes to walk up to his throne as if he was some sort of king or something. His back was, unfortunately, not responding. Most meet and greets were done on people’s feet and they didn’t take long, but Max had to sit down, and the rest of the band sat down with him. They were tired too. They didn’t seem to have a problem with accommodating him and sitting around him. Max normally loved it, except for right then, when he seemed like he was acting entitled as fuck to this man who was crossing the room to talk to him, awkwardly, slowly, but still crossing the room to talk to him nevertheless. It felt to Max like the man approaching him too far too long. His mouth was dry by the time the man stood in front of him. Max looked up at his face, expecting to see something like annoyance in those beautiful eyes.
They were blue, Max noted. Light, almost transparent blue, gray might have been a better description for it. It was no wonder that they looked like they glimmered from far away, they were something special. This man was something special, Max could see it in his face. He wasn’t the most attractive man that Max had ever seen, or at least Max was sure that he wasn’t supposed to consider him the most attractive man that he had ever seen, but something about the way his face looked, something about the way he carried himself, was breathtaking. There was something familiar about him, too, something that Max couldn’t quite put his finger on. He was about to open his mouth to ask the man if he knew him when he extended his hand to shake Max’s. Max shut his mouth and grabbed the man’s hand, squeezing softly. The second that their hands touched, Max’s heart started to beat fast in his chest. It wasn’t an inconsiderable feat considering how fast his heart was already going.
He couldn’t make sense of why he was nervous. He had met so many fans before, though he supposed not one had affected him quite like this one. It was hard to put his finger on it. Max couldn’t begin to understand what there was about this man in particular. He wished that he could.
He wanted to open his mouth and ask him but that felt like it might have been a mistake. He was absolutely positive that he was blowing it all out of proportion, that it was just what it was, and that this guy was just good at shaking hands. He thought that was it, in any case. Part of him hoped that was it.
The guy let go almost immediately but Max couldn’t help but feel the soft skin on his fingers and his hands, which lingered over his callused fingers. They were always worn away by the end of the night, but his hands weren’t particularly soft and he always had to apply ridiculous amount of moisturizer after a gig to make them feel anything even close to touchable. But the guy didn’t seem to mind too much. In fact, he held his hand for what Max thought was a long time. It wasn’t until the man’s cheeks were a dark crimson red that he let go of him, dropping his hand to his side. Max wondered, for a second, why he hadn’t felt a pull to move away from him.
Max cocked his head and smiled at him widely. He wasn’t sure what else to do, because the situation felt slightly awkward, but it was fine. This was exactly what Max had wanted.
“You were amazing out there,” the man said. His voice was high-pitched, quiet and soft, his speech slow and deliberate. Max wondered how he sounded when he was bored, if this was him when he was excited. He wanted to reach out and touch his skin, trace the line of his jaw, but he reminded himself that he didn’t know him, and as such, he couldn’t touch him. He appreciated the compliment, however, so he smiled widely.
“I’m so happy to hear that you had fun.”
The guy took a little while to reply, far longer than Max thought he should have. Finally, he nodded. His hair was a little long, dark brown streaks “It was more than fun,” the man replied. “I’ve… I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Max cocked his head, smiling at him. There was definitely admiration in his voice and he couldn’t help but feel more flattered than he should have. He tried not to overthink it, though his mind had gone into overdrive mode as he had been speaking to this man. “Thanks,” he said, wondering if his voice betrayed how nervous he was. He didn’t think that it did, but he couldn’t be sure. “I’m so glad you came. What’s your name? And your pronouns?”
“Eli,” he replied. “And he and they are both fine. Thank you for asking. What about you?”
“Max,” he said. “With one x, not two, if possible.”
“Not Maxx, but Max,” Eli said, his eyes bright. “Got it. Pronouns?”
“He, please. Thank you for asking.”
“And you.”
They both quiet for what felt like a while. “Eli,” Max finally said. “I think that suits you.”
“Thank you,” Eli replied. “I think. My name is Elijah but my friends all call me Eli.”
Max grinned, knowing that he looked ridiculous. “So I should consider you a friend.”
Eli looked back at the woman that he was with after taking a deep breath. It seemed to Max like he realized that everyone was watching him. All of the other fans were probably jealous of the attention that Max was giving him, but Max didn’t care too much. He hoped that Eli didn’t care too much either, but he couldn’t see his expression from where he was sitting, and for a second, he couldn’t help but feel concerned. If Eli freaked out by the way that people were looking at them, then any chance of Max getting to know him had just evaporated.
When he turned around to face Max again, he looked a little dazed, but he returned his smile, tight-lipped as it was.
“Of course, why wouldn’t we be friends?” he replied. There was a smile on his face, and Max couldn’t help but smile back. His tight-lipped smile turned into a full-on grin. He was sure that he looked stupid right then but he couldn’t help himself. He stood up, slowly. It was a function of his bad back but he was sure that it looked very dramatic. He could see that Eli also thought so from the way that he bit his lips, clearly to stop himself from laughing. At least he thought it was funny instead of stupid, so that was some consolation. Plus, Max was taller than Eli, which meant that he didn’t look ridiculous once he was done. Not much taller, just enough to have to look down at him when he spoke. He got closer to Eli so that he could whisper in his ear. “If you give me about an hour, I promise I’m all yours.”
Eli didn’t jerk away from him, but the movement wasn’t exactly quiet. He seemed startled by Max’s words and Max wished, for a split second, that he hadn’t been so forward. But he had and it wasn’t the time for regrets. He simply looked down at Eli’s face again and leaned a little bit closer to him so that no one else could hear him. “Unless you’re not interested. Or unless you’re only interested with your friend.”
Eli turned to look at him, shaking his head. “What?”
“Women are okay, but I don’t do three ways,” Max replied, just as quietly.
Eli shook his head and laughed. “No, first of all, gross. That’s my cousin.”
Max laughed. He didn’t want to let Eli know just how relieved he was. He beckoned her over, which earned him a wide-eyed glance from Eli. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I told you. I’m not going to do anything weird.”
“You’re a rock star,” Eli replied. “I think what’s weird to you isn’t weird to most normal people.”
“Fair enough,” Max said. “I’m just going to set her up with Lara, she’s the manager.”
“Your manager?”
“My event manager,” Max replied. “She’ll get her free passes and stuff. It’ll make up for the fact that I’m yanking away half of her party.”
Eli licked his lips. “Is that what you’re doing?”
“I certainly hope so.”
Eli smiled. “I’m not normally this easy to pick up, y’know.”
“I never assumed such a thing,” Max said, smiling at him then biting his lower lip.
“Your profession helps.”
“It’s absolutely the reason I got into music.”
Eli laughed. Max liked the way that he laughed, throwing his head back. His voice was still quite high-pitched, but quite melodic, more than Max had been expecting. “I believe you.”
Max grabbed his wrist. He hadn’t intended to, but his body felt like it was doing things of its own accord without any of his input. He wanted to touch this stranger. He wanted to do more than just touch his wrist, but this felt right. There was something about touching the soft hand on his arm that made Max feel like there were sparks going off from his spine and into his head.
Eli didn’t object. He didn’t move his hand away from him, he didn’t say anything. He just watched him, gazing into his eyes as if they were alone.
Max brought his mouth close to Eli’s ear again. “There’s a hotel we’re all staying at,” he said. “We’re staying here for a couple of days. Can I trust you with my room key?”
“You’re giving me your room key?” Eli replied, his voice just as quiet as Max’s.
“If you promise not to give it to anyone,” Max said. He shouldn’t have trusted this stranger. He knew that, but he still couldn’t help himself. He should have called the hotel; he should have told Lara about it. He didn’t know anything about Eli, only his name. He knew that this was a matter of security. He didn’t understand what had gotten into him or why he couldn’t stop himself, even as he slipped the key card out of his pocket and slid it into Eli’s, behind his arm so that no one else could see it.
Eli’s eyes widened. “I didn’t promise you anything.”
“I know,” Max replied. “Foolishly, I’m deciding to trust you.”
“That is very foolish,” Eli said. “I could be a papparazo for all you know.”
Max laughed. “There is so much to take pictures of in my room,” he said. “For instance, my bed. The linen is very white.”
“Excellent,” Eli said. “I’ll go get my camera.”
Max licked his lips as he looked down at Eli’s. “So can I expect to see you there?”
“I’ll be there before you are,” Eli replied. “And I promise I won’t look throug
h your drawers.”
“Now I’ll be disappointed if you don’t,” Max said, scrunching up his nose.
Eli smirked at him. “I aim to please.”
Max nodded. “My manager will tell you which hotel we’re staying at,” he said. “You understand. It’s a safety concern.”
“Of course,” Eli replied, his expression schooling. He seemed to understand just how seriously Max took this, regardless of how reckless he had been acting only a few minutes ago. “I would never do anything, by the way. I would never reveal where you are or tweet a picture of what your underwear drawer looks like.”
Max chuckled. “I wasn’t worried about that, but now I am.”
“I’m not giving you the key card back.”
“I expected that you wouldn’t,” Max said. “Go, before I change my mind. My manager will be with your cousin. Her name is Lara. Tell her I sent you.”
“Did you?”
“By the time you find her, I will have.”
“Okay,” Eli said. “I trust you.”
“Good,” Max replied, smiling at him. “Then we’re off to a good start, are we not?”
“Yes,” Eli said. “I suppose so.”
Chapter Two
It felt to Max like it took him forever to meet and greet the rest of his fans. They all wanted to speak for far too long and the longer that Max stayed there and shook hands with them, the more antsy he got. He couldn’t believe that he had given the key card to Eli and, for a fleeting second, he wondered if Eli would even be there. He didn’t have any reason to be sure that Eli would be there, he just hoped that he was. The hotel wasn’t far from the venue and while he normally would have been tempted to go out and party with the band—hotel beds were usually not great for his back—but he wanted to get back to the hotel and talk to Eli.