by Jet Mykles
“What?”
“Seems like you’ve gotten real cozy here in Chicago with your new friends.”
“Jesus Christ, are you gonna start this again?”
“I’m just sayin’. Maybe you’re not so happy to leave.”
“Would you give me a fucking break? I just uprooted my life two months ago to come here. Excuse the hell out of me if I’m a little cautious about doing it again so soon on the call out of the blue from a guy who worked for the company that dumped us last year.”
Zane’s gaze dropped down and to the side. “He says that wasn’t him.”
“And I’m sure he’d tell you the whole truth about it.” Rabin snorted and resumed his pacing. “Get a grip, Zane. We need to be smart about this.”
Pulling in a deep breath, Zane scraped hands into his hair to pull it back from his face. “Okay. Okay, yeah, you’re right. Sorry. It went to my head.”
Rabin smirked. “I know. But that is cool, if he’s on the up-and-up.”
Zane gripped his hair so hard that the corners of his eyes stretched to match the corners of his grin. “I think he is, man.”
Rabin nodded. “We’ll see.”
* * * *
The next day was Fourth of July, so they were off from the studio. Brent and Hell had plans of their own, and Izzy was out of town spending the holiday with his parents. Rabin had planned to take Zane to the Taste of Chicago. After hearing Izzy talk about it, Rabin was pretty sure both of them would enjoy it. But instead they spent the day discussing the new deal from every possible angle. They didn’t expect Arthur to call back on the holiday, but since they didn’t know, they wanted to be prepared.
Through it all, Rabin kept thinking of Izzy. And Brent. But mostly Izzy. What was he going to tell them? Surely, they’d both see what a great opportunity this was, but… He couldn’t dwell on it. Not until he knew some details.
Arthur called Rabin the next day, and they had a long, serious chat. Rabin remembered Arthur as a prick, but he thought most of the people he’d dealt with at the record company were all pricks on some level. Once Arthur realized that Rabin wanted hard-and-fast details, they got down to the nitty-gritty. Rabin dearly missed having a manager who dealt with this stuff, but he did his best. Cardamon Records had some money backing them, so Rabin and Arthur were able to tentatively agree on an advance that would cover Zane and Rabin’s transfer to LA and living expenses for a few months. It even allowed enough to keep paying rent on the place in Chicago for the same amount of time, which Rabin felt even better about. Before they got off the phone, Arthur agreed to draw up a proposal and e-mail it to Rabin and Zane for review.
“We can use the printer at the studio,” Rabin told Zane as he wrapped up relaying the details to his friend. Rabin still had his laptop even though they couldn’t afford Internet service at home. “As long as it’s on the up-and-up, we should be golden.”
He rejoiced with Zane, ignoring for the moment the sensation of tearing somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.
* * * *
Telling Brent the next day was easy. Shortly after they showed up at the studio, Zane took Todd on a food run to give Rabin a chance to break the news to Brent in private.
He took it well. “That’s terrific, man.” Brent even stood up to give him a back-slapping hug. “You feel good about what he said?”
Grinning as they both resumed their seats behind the massive console, Rabin nodded. “I do. Talked his ear off yesterday about anything I could think of. I got a chance to skim over the agreement, and it looks good.”
“You want me to ask someone to look at it? You need a legal eye.”
He opened his mouth to decline but heard himself accepting instead. He’d be a fool not to let a disinterested third party see the agreement. “That’d be awesome. Thanks.”
“Forward me the e-mail, and I’ll see if Chris or one of Gretchen’s people can give it a once-over. You should talk to her about managing, you know. Her people are good.”
Rabin perked up. “You think she’d be interested?”
Brent laughed. “You’ve already got a deal, and she knows I’ve been working with you. I think you’re good.”
“Wow. Again, thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it.” Brent glanced at the closed door behind Rabin, then pursed his lips. “You tell Izzy yet?”
Rabin blinked, stunned. “Huh?”
Brent tossed silky black fringe from his face, then sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve been seeing Izzy for the past few weeks, haven’t you?”
Caught completely off guard, Rabin couldn’t think of how to dance around the subject. “You knew?”
Very little emotion showed on Brent’s face. “I suspected. Too many nights Izzy spent in town and you came in the next morning in the same clothes.”
Rabin winced. They hadn’t thought of that. “Right. Hey, listen—”
“I should kick your ass.” Brent held up a hand. “But, hey, you’re both adults. He probably told you not to tell me anyway, for fear I’d tell his mom.” Evidently Brent knew his cousin better than they’d expected.
“Did you?”
“Tell her? God no. It’s not her business. Not mine either.”
“Good. I mean, thanks.” Rabin’s heart raced. Brent had been so good to him, he didn’t want to get on his bad side. “It’s not a huge deal. We just…”
“Just?”
He took a breath, sitting forward to put his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know. I like him a lot.”
“You gay now?”
A breath exploded from Rabin’s mouth. “I don’t know. I guess?” He shook his head. “Or not. I like being with Izzy, but…”
“Not so much other guys?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve seen this before.”
“You have?”
“Sure. Darien got a taste of Chris and didn’t look back. Tyler with Johnnie too. Heck, I dated women for a little while.” He chuckled. “Liked it too.”
Rabin’s eyes went wide. Everyone Brent had just mentioned had ended up with lifelong commitments.
“Is it serious?”
He didn’t mistake Brent’s light tone. The other man was fishing for information and would kill him if Rabin answered wrong. “We’re just having fun.” He felt safe using Izzy’s own words, even if they sounded a little hollow.
“I hope you’re right about that.” His tone suggested Brent didn’t think so. “I don’t envy you telling him. I doubt he wants to find another playmate.”
Playmate. Rabin frowned. But that’s what he was. “I plan to tell him tonight.”
A pause while Brent studied his face. “Suggestion?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell him until you know for sure when you’re leaving.”
“Why?”
“Things are still up in the air now. Better to tell him when you’ve got some solid information.” He shrugged as he stood, picking up a pack of smokes and a lighter from the console. “But it’s up to you. Join me outside?”
Rabin nodded thoughtfully. “In a minute. I’m gonna check my e-mail.”
“Cool.” Brent patted his shoulder on the way out.
Rabin just sat there, staring at the floor. He’d worked himself into a lather the night before, thinking how to tell Brent and only superficially thinking of how to tell Izzy. Now that Brent knew, there was nothing to hold back the dread.
Izzy would be fine. They were just friends, having fun. Izzy was the one who kept telling Rabin that. He was even the one who’d mentioned things coming to an end. So, was Rabin’s dread even justified? Maybe he wasn’t so much worried over Izzy’s reaction as he was upset over his own?
Chapter Thirteen
Rabin took Brent’s advice and didn’t tell Izzy immediately. He felt bad, but Brent was right. You never knew what was going to happen from one minute to the next in the music business. It could easily turn out that the contract was bogus or the new recor
d company changed their minds or things got delayed. Hell, it could even turn out that things moved to Chicago! You just never knew. It really was best to wait until everything was solid.
And if a part of Rabin hoped that things would fall through…? Well, he kept that to himself.
But the offer was solid. Brent couldn’t catch Chris Faith, because he was out of the country with Darien, but hooked Rabin and Zane up with a guy who worked out of Chicago for Gretchen, Heaven Sent’s manager. Gordon McCarty was a personable guy with black hair and icy blue eyes, who sat them down and gave them a good hour of straight talk. Rabin wasn’t sure he liked Gordon at first, but after the meeting, he regretted leaving Gordon behind. The man must make a fabulous manager. Gordon suggested they make one alteration to the contract—that of getting their advance in full, up front—and both Rabin and Zane had missed the fine print on that one. That alone made the meeting worthwhile. Arthur from Cardamon Records hemmed a few days on the timing of the advance, but then he gave in. Rabin thought maybe he sensed that Rabin was more than ready to walk away from the deal, even if Zane wasn’t. A second agreement was sent. Gordon was asked to read it and blessed it. Then Rabin found himself signing the damn thing Monday night and faxing it back.
The deal was done. He had an e-mail notice that his part of the advance would be electronically deposited in his account the next day. He and Zane had a week and a day to get their shit out to Los Angeles.
He couldn’t delay telling Izzy anymore.
* * * *
Tuesday night, Rabin met Izzy at their motel. He didn’t want to tell Izzy about this in public, and he didn’t think he could take the walk from school and dinner at the pizzeria before spilling the beans. So he was nervously pacing the narrow confines of the room when Izzy knocked.
Rabin opened the door, and Izzy grinned, breezing past him into the room. “Hey.”
Trying to still his nerves, Rabin paid undue attention to closing the door. “Hey.”
Izzy’s backpack thumped onto the rug, and Rabin turned into Izzy’s reaching arms. They met in a kiss that was now achingly familiar. He was going to miss this in LA.
“Mmm, I’m glad you suggested coming straight here,” Izzy murmured, tugging Rabin by his T-shirt as he walked backward toward the bed. “It’s been days since I’ve seen you.” Stopping at the bed, he slid a hand down to cup Rabin’s crotch. “I missed you.”
Rabin gave him a groan and a smile against his lips. “I missed you too.”
Izzy squeezed, and Rabin gave serious thought to having sex before he said anything about moving. But fairness won out. He grabbed Izzy’s wrist just before busy fingers could loosen his fly. “Wait.”
“What for?”
“Iz, stop. I’ve got something to tell you.”
Like a switch going off, Izzy froze, and half the warmth drained from the air around them. Wide dark eyes stared at Rabin’s throat. “Oh.” He licked his lips. “Can it…wait?”
“No.” Rabin ran his hands up Izzy’s arms to his shoulders. “Hey. Look at me.”
Izzy did, but only for a brief second. Then he shook Rabin’s hold and sidestepped away from him. “What is it? Tell me, and get it over with.”
Rabin scowled at his back, thrown off by the cold shoulder. “Iz…”
Taking a deep breath, Izzy turned and leaned back against the dresser that held the television. “What? It can’t be good news, not when you start like that.”
“It is good news.” Kind of. Mostly. “I…that is, we, the Indigo Knights, got an offer from a new record company to finish the second album that we never got to record.”
Dark brows crowded blinking eyes, showing Izzy’s confusion. “That…is good news. Congrats.”
Rabin put on a smile. “Thanks. We’re excited about it.” He was excited.
Izzy started to smile. “You should be. That’s great. When do you start? Does that put your work with Brent on hold? Have you told him?”
Now Rabin did smile, loving how inquisitive Izzy was. “Brent knows. And yeah, we’ll be putting that work on hold. We leave Friday.”
There went the switch again, and all emotion drained from Izzy’s face. “Leave?”
Rabin nodded. “That’s the part I really needed to tell you. We have to move to LA.”
“Los Angeles?”
“Yeah.”
Dark lashes dropped down to shield Izzy’s eyes. “Oh.”
“Hey.” Rabin went to him but stopped just a step away, halted by an invisible barrier that kept Izzy isolated from him. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Izzy shook himself and tried a laugh that failed just short of real. “Don’t be sorry, you doof. This is awesome news for you.”
Rabin made so bold as to reach up to stroke Izzy’s cheek. Eyes squeezed shut, Izzy reached up to capture his hand, turning into his palm.
“I’m happy for you.” The choked sob didn’t go with his words. “That’s great.”
“God, Iz.” Rabin stroked his other hand over Izzy’s hair, fighting a lump in his throat and a burn in his eyes.
Izzy pushed out a breath and shook himself. “Don’t mind me. I’m just—”
Rabin kissed him, unwilling to hear any brave talk. When another sob shook Izzy’s body, Rabin shoved his arms around him to gather him close. Izzy kissed him back, desperately sucking his tongue, fingers digging into the back of Rabin’s shoulders even as his body continued to shake. He moaned a little and tried unsuccessfully to hold back more sobbing. Finally Rabin had to let his lips go, afraid he couldn’t breathe. Izzy bent his face into Rabin’s neck and clung to his shirt.
“God, Iz.” He held on tight. “Please don’t cry.”
“I’m not,” Izzy lied on a sob. “I’m happy for you.”
Rabin laughed, threading his fingers in Izzy’s hair to keep his head tucked close. “Okay. Thanks for that.”
A high, hysterical laugh turned into more weeping, and Rabin couldn’t do anything but hold him.
“Fuck. I’m acting like such a queen.”
Rabin kissed his temple. “It’s okay.”
“No. It’s not.” Izzy pulled his arms between them and braced against Rabin’s chest. “I’m feeling sorry for myself.” He pushed.
Rabin wouldn’t release him.
“Let go.”
Reluctantly, he did. Keeping his head down, Izzy pulled away and dashed into the bathroom. Afraid he might close the door, Rabin followed, but Izzy was just standing at the sink, yanking tissue after tissue from a box on the counter. He shoved a great wad of white at his eyes, then used some of it to blow his nose, all of this with his back mostly to Rabin. It took him a few minutes, but he managed to collect himself—mostly—and turn toward the mirror.
“God.” His reflection showed red, puffy eyes, a redder nose, and a blotchy flush to his cheeks. Not his best look, although Rabin still thought he was adorable. Izzy glanced aside at Rabin, then raised more tissue to cover his face. “Don’t look.”
Without protesting, Rabin turned to prop his shoulder just outside the door frame. The water ran. A few minutes later, Izzy stood at the doorway. Some of the red flush was gone.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Rabin kept his arms crossed because he didn’t know what else to do with his hands. “I’m sorry.”
“No. You had great news, and all I could think of was that you were leaving me. Which is stupid because I knew this was coming.” He headed back toward the bedroom but stopped when Rabin grabbed his arm.
“What?”
Izzy kept his eyes averted. “We said from the beginning that this was just fun. Wasn’t right of me to make a big deal of your leaving.”
That’s it. With a growl, Rabin hauled Izzy around to face him fully and pushed him back against the wall. “Don’t fucking do that.”
Izzy’s eyes met his, wide, pink-edged, and still a little watery.
“Don’t make it into no big thing.” Rabin shook him. “I’m going to miss you too.”
/> Izzy swallowed, then summoned a little smile. He raised his hand to reach for Rabin’s cheek. “That’s sweet.”
“Damn it.” Not trusting himself, he snatched away from Izzy and stormed across the bedroom toward the drawn orange curtains. “Don’t you dare turn this into nothing.”
“Turn what into nothing?”
“Us,” he snapped, spinning around.
Izzy had his hands spread, palms out. “There is no us.”
Rabin stayed very still, battling an urgent need to punch something.
Izzy shook his head slowly. “We said it from the beginning. This was just fun. Now it ends.”
“Bloody hell. What am I supposed to say to that?”
“Nothing.” Izzy’s mouth worked, fighting what might have been a scowl. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“I care about you.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you?”
“Christ, Rabin, what do you want from me?” Anger started to show through as Izzy tore at his hair. “I’m trying to make this easy for you.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t?” There was that ugly bark of hysterical laughter. “What do you want me to say? You want me to beg you to stay, beg you not to leave? Would it work?”
Rabin’s jaw ached from clenching. Even pissed as he was, not taking this chance in LA wasn’t an option.
“No. I didn’t think so. And it shouldn’t. You’ve got a dream, and this sounds like an awesome opportunity for you.” A tear spilled from one eye, but Izzy ignored it. “You wanted to experiment with me, and I let you. We had a good time. Now it’s over. Deal with it.”
“It doesn’t have to be over.”
“Oh yes. It does. I can’t… It’s better if it’s over.”
Rabin took a step toward him, but Izzy stumbled back.
“No! I mean it. This ends now.” He grabbed the strap of his backpack and backed another step toward the door. “Unless you…” He shook his head. “No. We’re done. Good luck in LA.”
“Izzy, wait. Don’t go.”
“Damn it, Rabin.” Izzy stopped him with a watery glare over his shoulder. “Please. Don’t.” He opened the door. “Bye.”