Double Act

by Foster Bridget Cassidy

  Sean launched into the verse. And as simple as that, Emerson got lost in the sound of Sean’s voice. He was mesmerized by it. They sang together at home, but it paled to this, like a far-off star to the full moon. Sean sang with such passion, and his tones ranged high and low perfectly.

  Emerson added his harmonies to the chorus, again, enjoying the way they complimented each other. What a gift it was, to weave voices together like thread in a tapestry. It showed a picture just as clearly.

  They finished without any mistakes, and Emerson breathed a sigh of relief.

  The crowd went nuts.

  Sean grabbed the microphone, a look of pure delight on his face. “And if you liked that, you’ll love what’s next!”

  * * * *

  They performed two encores after the set was done—-they actually played “I Won’t Back Down.” When they finished, Emerson glowed with satisfaction. He could hardly believe he made it through the whole thing. The crowd applauded and he and Sean walked off stage. Once covered by the wall, Sean threw his arms around him.

  “Em, that was perfect! Oh my God, you were incredible!”

  “No, I messed up the third verse of ‘Flyin’ High.’ I can’t believe I did that.”

  “It was fine. You did so, so amazing.”

  Macie stood by, actually grinning. “You did do a great job, Emerson,” she said. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m great. Tired, but great.” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. The whole thing had only been about ninety minutes, but he felt as if he’d been running for hours. He was covered in sweat and he had a hard time catching his breath.

  “Let’s get you back to the hotel,” Macie said, gently giving them a push on their backs. “You need to get some rest tonight. It’s been a rough day.”

  “I can’t go to sleep,” Emerson said. “I feel like I’m floating.”

  Sean laughed. “Oh, Em, you’re so cute. Just give it five minutes and the adrenaline will wear off and you’ll crash. We need to make sure you eat something before that happens.”

  They made their way to the back of the building where Rachel was waiting with the bus. A couple dozen fans stood outside the back door, hoping for autographs. Sean walked over to them immediately, happily chatting with them.

  Emerson was surprised when they wanted his autograph, too. It wasn’t like he was a real member of the band.

  For twenty minutes, they signed autographs. Finally, the rest of the crew had assembled and they had to get going. Sean waved to the still-gathered people, then they made their way to the bus. Emerson still felt like he was flying, his head so high among the clouds.

  “Let’s stop off somewhere for dinner,” Sean suggested. “Even if it’s just fast food.”

  Macie grimaced. “That’s okay, as long as we eat somewhere decent tomorrow night. I don’t want you in the habit of eating crap.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Sean said.

  They pulled into a burger place. It closed at eleven, so they had just enough time to run in and order something. They got it to go and ate on the bus in the parking lot. Everyone was happy and smiling.

  When they were done, Rachel drove back to the hotel.

  In their room, Emerson climbed into the shower, eager to wash off the grime of the day.

  A hand encircled his waist from behind as he scrubbed with the small bar of soap. “You really were amazing,” Sean said. “I fell in love with you all over again tonight.”

  Emerson spun to face his boyfriend. “Sean, I don’t know how to thank you for letting me do this. I’m so happy that I got the chance. And then I feel so bad for being happy. I mean, the only reason I’m playing is because you were hurt. I’m benefitting from it, and I feel so awful.”

  Sean’s hand cupped his chin, forcing Emerson to meet his eyes. “Don’t feel bad. Tonight was the most amazing night of my life. I’ve never felt so complete before. I’ve had other singers play backup, but nothing compared to this. You and me, we make sense. I think…I want you to join me on a permanent basis.”

  “What?”

  “I want to give you a better contract. I want us to form a band together, one where we’ll both have equal parts. I want this to continue, even after I’m better.”

  “But, Sean, that’s giving away your livelihood. You’d be taking such a pay cut.”

  Sean smiled fondly. “It’s never been about the money. I’d play for free. It just so happens that people are willing to pay me, so I take it. I don’t mind any of that. I want you with me.”

  “I don’t know. I mean, it was really cool tonight, but to do it for a living…I’m not sure I could handle it.”

  “It’s not all touring. Next we can do an album. I was going to do it solo, but it could be our first project together. What do you think?”

  Emerson could hardly breathe. “I think I like the sound of that.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to force you.”

  “I feel like I’m forcing you. I won’t be upset if you want to keep your solo act. I swear I’d understand.”

  “I’m telling you I don’t want it. I want it to be us.”

  Emerson smiled. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. So, what’s your answer?”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 24

  Sean felt an unfamiliar flutter of nervousness in the pit of his stomach. After years of live performances, interviews, being on television, he thought he was done with this sensation. How wrong he was. He felt like vomiting.

  “Relax, everything will be just fine,” Emerson said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m right here with you.”

  Sean nodded, not trusting his voice.

  Emerson knocked on the door and it opened almost immediately. An elderly couple stood there, their faces beaming. In the woman, Sean could see Emerson’s high cheekbones, and in the man, the same brown eyes.

  “Mom! Dad!” Emerson gushed, rushing forward to embrace them both. “It’s so great to see you!”

  After releasing her son, Mrs. Willis pulled Emerson inside. Then she turned to Sean with bright, and happy eyes. “So this is Sean. Welcome, dear.” She grabbed Sean and gave him a tight hug, too. It reminded him of his own mother’s hugs, all those years ago. Maybe all mothers had the same technique.

  When she let Sean go, she handed him off to Mr. Willis.

  “Come on in, Sean,” Mr. Willis said, shaking his hand. “We’re so delighted to meet you.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine, sir,” Sean said.

  “Oh please, we don’t need that formality. Call me Hank.”

  “And I’m Lisa,” Mrs. Willis added. “Now, go sit down and I’ll get you both a drink. Beer okay? Wine? Soda?”

  “Beer is fine, Mom,” Emerson said. “Come on, Sean. This way.”

  They settled into a couch in the living room, Hank taking an armchair beside them. Lisa returned with a can for each of them.

  “So, how are the concerts going?” Lisa asked. “You having fun?”

  “Yeah, it’s been great,” Emerson said, popping the lid to his beer. “I never realized it would be this amazing.”

  “When are you going back to work?”

  Sean froze, wondering how Emerson’s parents would take the news. Not every parent would be okay with their youngest child quitting his job to join a band.

  “I’m already working,” Emerson told her with a huge smile.

  “What?”

  “I’ve signed a contract with Sean. We’re partners in the band now. Oh, we’re still just doing a “solo” tour at the moment, but when we get back, we’ll be a duet.”

  Lisa’s eyes widened. “But how will you make money in between shows? How will you support yourself?”

  “Mom, in the past week alone, I made almost $30,000. I’ll be fine.”

  Sean added, “And once we release an album with co-written songs, Emerson will get songwriting royalties, too.”

  “So quit worrying. I’m fine.”

  Lisa’s face fell. “B
ut your father and I wanted to take another cruise.”

  Emerson looked like he’d been punched in the gut. “Are you telling me that the only reason you wanted me to work there was so you’d get discounts?”

  She reached out and pat Emerson’s knee in a soothing gesture. “Not the only reason, but it was a perk. They’d hire you back if this band thing doesn’t work out, right?”

  Emerson sighed. “Yes. And if you want good cruise prices, my friends still work there. I can get you the same deals.”

  Her smile was back in force. “Okay, great! We wanted to go to the tropics sometime next winter. See what you can do.”

  “Sure.”

  “Now, dinner should be nearly done. Go sit at the table and I’ll bring it in.”

  They sat around the large dining room table, gathered near one end. Emerson’s family was pretty big—with his brother and sister both married and having children—so they probably needed the table for those sorts of gatherings. What a nice concept, so different than what Sean was used to with his own family.

  Lisa brought in a tray of lasagna—probably the same infamous recipe that had started all this—and began dishing it onto their plates. Then she sat beside her husband and grinned. “So, Sean, tell us about yourself. Did Emerson say we knew who you were before he started dating you? I’ve got one of your CDs.”

  “Yeah, he did tell me that. Thanks for being a fan.”

  “Are you two going to get married soon?” she asked around a bite of pasta.

  Sean nearly choked on his breadstick. “Pardon?”

  “Married,” Hank repeated helpfully. “When are you going to get married?”

  “Seriously?” Emerson said, nearly a squeal. “We’ve only been dating a month.”

  “What about children. Are you going to adopt?”

  A sip of beer when down the wrong pipe and Sean coughed.

  “Stop it!” Emerson said, his cheeks heating slightly. “You know I have Ninotchka. And Sean has a labradoodle named Pip. They’re the only children we need right now.”

  “I can’t believe you left Ninotchka at home, Emerson,” Hank said. “I bet she’s worried about you.”

  “No, she’s staying with our manager’s family. They have two young children and Ninotchka was really happy to play with them. She’s fine.”

  “Next time we can dog-sit,” Lisa added. “You know your father and I would be happy to visit you guys in New York.”

  “Maybe,” Emerson answered, but Sean caught the underlying tone which implied “no way in hell.”

  Sean struggled not to laugh. He should have expected this. When they met Emerson’s sister in Portland, and his brother in Nevada, it had been the same thing. They razzed him mercilessly. And it showed they were close as a family. Sean wanted to be a part of it.

  “I hear you play dominoes, Sean,” Hank said.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “We’ll have to have a game after dinner. I’m pretty good.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “You won’t beat him, Dad,” Emerson said, smiling proudly. “He’s amazing.”

  “We’ll see,” Hank replied, but he winked. “Maybe I’ll go easy on him the first round.”

  Lisa put her napkin on her plate. “I know the concert’s tomorrow, boys. But would you do us a favor and play us a song? I’ve really been looking forward to it.”

  “I’d love to,” Sean said.

  Emerson groaned. “Mom, do we have to?”

  “Yes you do, or no dessert.”

  Hank fetched an old acoustic guitar from somewhere. Emerson eyed it doubtfully. “Where’d you get that?”

  “Picked it up at a yard sale a few weeks ago.”

  “Convenient,” Emerson muttered. “Babe, you want to do the honors?”

  Sean shook his head. “I’d much rather you do the playing.”

  Lisa looked worried. “Your hand’s not still hurt, is it?”

  He held up his hand, free from bandages. “No, it’s healed up fine. Not even a twinge. But, Em’s a better player than me.”

  “That’s not true,” Emerson argued, of course.

  “Just play.”

  They sang “Flyin’ High,” probably the most popular of all Sean’s songs. It was slow and sweet and had great potential for harmonies on the chorus.

  After they were finished, Emerson’s parents stared in disbelief.

  Emerson chuckled, and it had an edge of nervousness to it. “Were we that bad?”

  “Emerson,” Lisa began, but had to stop.

  “Son,” Hank tried. “I never knew you had so much talent.”

  A part of Sean wanted to scold them for not paying attention. For raising Emerson to think he needed a “good job” to be a worthwhile human being. But, it wasn’t his place to say such things. And besides, if Emerson had continued with his guitar, they may have never met up. Sean had to accept that this was how things were.

  “Thanks,” Emerson said graciously.

  Lisa turned to Sean. “I can’t believe you turned my son into a star.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” Sean said, “but he was like this when I found him.”

  Emerson shook his head. “I’m just a backup singer.”

  Sean put his arm over Emerson’s shoulder. “You’re so much more. You’re my double act.”

  THE END

  ABOUT FOSTER BRIDGET CASSIDY

  Foster Bridget Cassidy is a rare, native Phoenician who enjoys hot desert air and likes to wear jackets in summer. She has wanted to be a fiction writer since becoming addicted to epic fantasy during high school. Since then, she’s studied the craft academically—at Arizona State University—and as a hobby—attending conventions and workshops around the country. A million ideas float in her head, but it seems like there’s never enough time to get them all down on paper.

  Her main support comes from her husband, who reminds her to laugh. Mostly at herself. Their partnership may be difficult to grasp when viewed from the outside, but seen from the inside they are a perfect match. He’s helped her though surgeries and sicknesses and is always willing to wash her hair when she can’t do it on her own. Their children have four legs and fur and will bite them on occasion. One snores loudly.

  For fun, Foster likes to take pictures of her dachshunds, sew costumes for her dachshunds, snuggle her dachshunds, and bake treats for her dachshunds. In exchange for so much love and devotion, they pee vast amounts on the floor, click their nails loudly on the tile, and bark wildly at anything that moves outside. Somehow, this relationship works for all involved.

  While not writing, Foster can usually be found playing a video game or watching a movie with her husband. While not doing any of those things, Foster can usually be found in bed, asleep.

  For more information, visit fosterbridgetcassidy.com.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!