A chuckle rose when Carter admitted his childhood infractions to the live audience. On the other side of the country, unbeknownst to him, it was like everything in my world had stopped. All that existed was Carter at the microphone and me staring at him from Ty’s living room. My heart was beating quickly, and I’d lost the ability to school my emotions. I put down my damn chopsticks. All I could do was listen to him.
“We knew each other better than anyone. We told each other all our secrets. Where every candy bar was hidden after Halloween. Every dent on the family car that I may have caused.” He paused while the audience laughed again.
“But there was one secret I never told anyone, one I was absolutely terrified of from the time I was fourteen. A secret I wished would go away; a secret I wanted to shout so everyone would finally know.” Carter paused for effect. “I was completely, massively in love with him.”
My heart stopped. Fully. The blood rushed to my ears, and I felt like I was having a stroke or living inside some messed-up fever dream where everything was spinning and the world was upside down.
Him. One little word that said so much. Him.
My thoughts were racing, and they were also completely silent. My body was stuck to the ground and floating ten feet in the air. I was elated. I was terrified. I was completely unable to process this information because it didn’t make any sense. Him?
Carter was into guys. And there was a him. Could the him have been me? Based on what he’d said—neighbors, secrets—there was no way he was talking about anybody else, but it couldn’t have been me either. Could it?
The silence in the theater where he was speaking gave way after a second of processing time to a few lone cheers and “awwws” and grew quickly to the full audience applauding. It’s not every day that a rock star winning a Grammy Award comes out of the closet on stage during his acceptance speech. Eventually Carter moved his hands to shush the crowd so he could finish. A few of his bandmates patted him on the back in support.
He stared straight at the camera, straight at me through all the distance, and concluded, “Chase, I know we’ve lost touch, but this song is for you. I would love to hear from you and to make things right. And to everyone out there struggling with yourselves, or feelings you don’t know what to do with, don’t wait until you’re in your midtwenties and have just won a Grammy to say something. Thank you.”
The room around me fell still. Ty reached for the remote and turned off the TV after a moment. They stared at me while I gawked at the blank screen.
Ty seemed to sense my discomfort and silently ushered all of our friends out the door. There were so many questions in everyone’s glances, but I couldn’t form words or even look away from the television. When we were finally alone, Ty stood and reached to pull me up.
“You need to say something eventually, Chasey,” he said gently.
I sighed. “Yes,” I said, confirming Ty’s unasked question. “He was the one I told you about.”
Ty wrapped his arms around me tightly. I was so numb I couldn’t even get it together enough to grip him back. He pulled away after a moment.
“But isn’t this a good thing? Hell, the man is one of the sexiest musicians out there, and he just confessed to the whole planet that he’s gay and he’s in love with you!”
“Was,” I said. “Was in love with me. At a time when I wanted one person, any person, to understand or get it. He was my best friend, Ty. He could have said something at any point growing up and not made me feel so alone. He could have not basically spat in my face and ignored me for five years. This isn’t a new revelation for him.”
“He was struggling too, sweetie. And it clearly took him a lot longer than it took you to come to terms with it.” He rested his hand on my arm.
“I don’t know how to deal with this,” I replied softly.
“Sleep on it. Process. Take a couple of days. You’re not exactly anonymous with him broadcasting it on TV like that, but decide for yourself if you want to contact him. We’ve all got your back either way. No judgment.” He gave my arm a squeeze.
“Yeah. I’ll think about it.”
We said our goodbyes. I promised to let him know if I needed anything and left quietly, still completely shaken.
Carter
I OBSESSED over social media for days, waiting for a message from him. Every time a new notification dinged, my stomach dropped and my heart started pounding through my chest. It was always the media, digging for information, or worse, someone claiming to be Chase to try to get a response from me. The latter usually turned out to be bigoted trolls saying horrible words. Or almost as often, someone trying to get in my pants or sending a meant-to-be-enticing-but-actually-disgusting dick pic.
I tried not to be overly cocky about my band’s success. For all I knew, Chase hadn’t even seen the Grammys or heard my speech. So what if we used to watch the Grammys together every year religiously when we were growing up? People change. At the time it had felt like the odds of his watching the awards were good, but now I was second-guessing how realistic that was.
Even if he hadn’t seen the broadcast itself, the media had been having a field day—first with me coming out, and then with what they saw as me pouring my heart out in a hopelessly romantic gesture. Everyone wanted a piece of me. There was a bidding war to get the first official coming-out interview with me. Fortunately, my amazing publicist was dealing with that one and keeping me out of it. I stayed quiet. Or as quiet as the lead singer in a rock band on their first major tour can.
Cities blended together. Detroit, Cleveland, Toronto. I played my shows without addressing the rainbow elephant in the room, even though it felt like said elephant was sitting on my chest and growing bigger each day.
The more time went by, the more I lost hope he would reach out. The more the pessimistic side of my brain was convinced he had seen my speech and just wasn’t interested. For all I knew, he was already married, with a boring accountant husband, a white picket fence, and some disgustingly loyal golden retriever. Maybe they were sipping chardonnay in their oversized porch swing, watching the sun going down and making fun of the pathetic closeted rock star for dwelling on a teenage crush instead of having a love life of his own. I wanted him to be happy. He deserved to be happy. A lot of time had gone by. I didn’t even know if he was still in Pennsylvania or what he did for a living.
Even if by some miracle he was single, he simply may have not wanted to talk to me. I have never regretted anything in my life the way I regretted what I did to him. On the spinning wheel of horrible moments in my life, that had the permanent spot of being the worst. Number one with a bullet. It was something I wished I could take back from the moment I said it. But I was young and scared and stupid. I ruined the best thing in my life, and maybe now that I had finally owned up to it, I could move on and let some of the guilt go.
This all-consuming situation needed a resolution. I needed to move on with my life. Focus on my music, finish the tour, write the music for our new album. Maybe even get laid. Something.
After a week, I was fairly convinced I regretted what I’d done. Not the coming-out bit. That was a long time coming. But the part about professing my love on national television for someone who was basically now a stranger? That was a little embarrassing. I was mortified enough by the media frenzy I had caused, so I couldn’t say I blamed Chase for keeping quiet. Life in the public was not easy. Despite the success of our first album and tour, I had stayed relatively under the radar until this. But for most people, the lifestyle that came along with being with me would be an automatic deal breaker. Especially now.
We were on the road, wrapping up the last month of East Coast dates. Somewhere between Cleveland and Pittsburgh, I think. It was late, and most of the guys were asleep in their bunks after another high-energy gig. I was staring aimlessly out the window, watching the streetlamps and headlights pass by, every mile taking us closer to our final destination. It had been exhausting and exhilarating. A once-in-a-
lifetime experience. Tickets were selling faster since our big win, and the fans seemed to love us more and more in each city we played.
The band were all getting under each other’s skin a little now; things that would have slid by back in Oregon were now enough to pick fights over. We needed some time back home, some space to ourselves to recharge, but ultimately we were brothers and knew the road would call us back before too long.
I was half asleep from the gentle sway of the bus, my head against the window and my phone loose in my hand. Any small bump would have caused it to fall, but the quiet ding of an incoming message jerked me awake.
Chase
I MUST have started and deleted messages a hundred times over the week since the awards show. I had been inconspicuously following Carter on social media for years, but it was starting to concern even me how much time I was spending looking at his pages now. I didn’t know what to do. How to start. I had been over it and over it: What I wanted to say after so long. What I wanted to happen. How much I was willing to have my heart broken by this man. Again.
Then there were the incoming messages. People I hadn’t spoken to for years sending me the link to that damn speech. Acquaintances posing as friends, trying to use whatever angle they thought would work to get close to Carter. God, if this was how it was for me, I couldn’t imagine how bad it was for him. Not that it wasn’t his fault. He at least had a choice in the matter.
I finally gave up and slammed the lid of my laptop down. I texted Ty, and we agreed to meet at a bar near campus. I needed to talk to someone, and I could count on him not to make a bigger deal out of this than it was.
About an hour later, I looked up over the rim of my beer and saw Ty coming through the door. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I might have one or two socially, and tonight I felt it could only help me to relax.
“Hey.” He hugged me in greeting before quickly ordering himself a microbrew from the bartender.
We talked for a minute or two while he waited for his drink, taking a deep pull when it was set in front of him.
“So, what’s up?” Ty finally asked.
“I don’t know. The whole thing is just so insane, I don’t know what to do….” I trailed off, assuming Ty would understand what I was talking about without my actually having to say the words.
Ty made encouraging sounds to keep me going but not interrupt my broken train of thought.
“He was everything to me for so long. And to hear him say he felt the same way? How could he have done that? How could he have said those horrible things to me after we kissed if he felt the same? He didn’t talk to me for so long. He broke my heart, Ty. And now for him to say all that in front of the world? As part of a sound bite to help promote a song?” I threw up my hands in exasperation.
“It sounds like you still feel something for him, babe. You wouldn’t be this worked up if you felt nothing,” he said.
“That’s the stupid part. I was over him. It took me forever to get there, and now it’s like I’m right back to the beginning. The day after he left.”
“What did you like about him in the first place? When you were kids?” Ty asked, changing the course of the conversation.
I thought for a half second before telling Ty a couple stories about Carter and me when we were young. How caring he was. How protective he was of me when I came out. Some of the stupid pranks he pulled. The music we fought over. Twenty minutes had passed by the time I was done, and I was smiling to myself and laughing at the memories while Ty just sat there, sipping his beer. I finally stopped, noticing the smirk on his face.
“What?” I said, fairly certain I knew what was coming.
“And the bad things about him? Was it that one moment, or anything else he did?” Ty asked.
“Just that. But that one moment changed everything. It broke everything. He had five years to reach out and apologize. I understand better than anyone how scary coming to terms with being gay is, but to let five years go by?”
“I think you need to talk to him, Chasey,” Ty said gently. “You don’t have to forgive him right away, or see him again if you don’t want to. This will be closure for you. Hear him out, and then you can move on. You’re in control here.”
I exhaled deeply, knowing Ty was right. If I didn’t reach out, I would wonder what would have happened. Nothing more than a conversation had to come from it. I wasn’t promising him anything; I was listening to his reasoning about what had happened as a way to reconcile it in my head.
“You’re right.” I hunched my shoulders. “I guess I need to hear what he has to say.”
Ty hugged me, rubbing his fingers along my back soothingly. “And we’re all here for you, whatever happens. No matter what.”
I got back home with a new determination, having already made the decision to go through with this. I dropped my keys in the bowl by the door and walked into the kitchen to make myself a mug of tea I didn’t need this late at night, once again stalling for time. I grabbed my laptop and sat cross-legged on my bed, the mug warming my hands. I opened a new message box on his page, thought about it for a second, and started typing.
Carter
I GLANCED down at the illuminated screen, my eyelids half closed against the brightness. Doing a double take, I was suddenly far more awake than I should have been at this hour. I unlocked my phone and, with hands shaking from too much adrenaline, pulled up the full private message.
Hey C. I know it’s been a long time, but I saw your speech the other night. Congratulations, C. I’m so proud of you for how hard you’ve worked and how far you’ve come with your music. I hope you’re doing well besides that. Message me back if you want to talk. Chase
I read the short message three times in rapid succession. It was annoyingly brief, without really addressing the content of my speech or my massive public confessions, but I was sure it was him from the nickname only he ever called me.
I brought up his profile, and while it was clearly not the profile of a public figure who relied on social media for exposure, there were a decent number of posts and pictures. One from last week: bundled up with the snow falling around him, a scarf around his neck, and his mittened hand around a paper coffee cup, smiling at whoever took the photo. Another one from a month ago: sitting at a piano with his back facing the camera, the beautiful house of a soft-seat theater in the background. A third from last summer: on a sandy beach lying on a brightly colored towel, flanked by two other attractive men. My breath caught at that photo, how much of him was exposed in the tiny swimsuit he wore. He had the same creamy, unblemished skin as always, but there was muscle definition now that hadn’t been there in high school. The guys he was with were certainly good-looking but didn’t hold a candle to the man in the middle. Chase didn’t look to be showing a preference for one guy over the other, so I let out a silent plea that they were both just his friends.
As I looked back further and further through his account, the seasons changed, but his brightness never dimmed. I dreamed about what his life was like through the small clues I found. There didn’t seem to be a boyfriend, or at least any one guy he took photos with regularly. He was an undergrad in composition studies at Julliard. I was so happy for him about that. Despite being a professional musician, college had never been in the cards for me, but I had nothing but respect for him choosing that as his path. I remember the day he got accepted into Julliard’s summer program when we were in high school. It was such an accomplishment, and he always said that would open doors for studying at the prestigious conservatory that had been his aspiration for so long.
When we were young, we had planned on living in New York City together when we grew up. My primary residence currently was a loft in Chelsea, so I found it interesting that dream had come true for us both separately. Chase had always been determined on what he set his mind to, so I can’t say I was entirely surprised he was going after what he wanted. Julliard. Manhattan.
The band was rolling into Buffalo shortly, with two
performances at Radio City Music Hall coming up soon. He was only a few days and a handful of cities from where we were now. I went back to the original message thread, surprised my luck was so good.
Hey! I can’t believe you actually messaged me :). I was wondering if we could get together and talk? I really need to explain myself to you and apologize in person. Can we do that? I’m in New York next week for a couple of shows, please say you’ll come?
I fought to keep my words casual, though I was feeling anything but. I didn’t want to scare him off before I could see him face-to-face. I wanted him to have an idea of what I wanted to talk about, but I needed to save the actual apology for when we met in person.
He responded quickly, thankfully, and we arranged for him to meet me before the show on Wednesday. Plans made, I finally relaxed and fell asleep with a lightness that I had been missing for years.
Chase
MY NERVES were shot for the rest of the week. I was anxious and jumpy, unable to focus on anything except seeing Carter on Wednesday. The logical side of my brain knew that I was in the driver’s seat. He was the one who had reached out—in front of millions, no less. We were connected by our past, but I could walk away at any time without any major ramifications to my life as it was now. He had left once; I could handle it again. I thought.
My mind was in overdrive, anticipating what he would say, what I could say. The smallest things set me off. I was useless at school and at work. Fortunately there weren’t any exams or papers due that week, so at least my GPA was safe from taking a Carter West nosedive.
Next to Me Page 2