by Sol Crafter, Diana Sheridan, Talya Andor, Lacie J. Archer, Angel Propps
"You're taking this one so seriously," Tor said, bumping Bailey's shoulder on the way out of the studio days later. "Jonn said to just pull one out, you know? It doesn't have to be a masterpiece, just has to get butts in the seats."
"I'm not going to give it anything less than my best," Bailey replied, perhaps a little too sharply. He tried to smooth out his expression and shrugged. "Just because it's a B-side doesn't mean we should give it zero effort."
"I know what's going on here," Tor said, pausing on the path that led to the parking lot. He cocked his head at Bailey, hazel eyes serious.
"Um?" Bailey responded on a high-pitched note, arching his brows and trying not to seem too frozen.
"You're totally gone for that melody," Tor continued, sounding smug. "I keep noticing you humming it when you're not even working."
"Oh!" Bailey uttered, and forced a chuckle. "I … yeah, you caught me. It's catchy." He unthawed with a pleased smile that he didn't even need to feign. He did like the melody, and it was growing on him for more reasons than simply the fact that Bailey was pinning his confession hopes on the song.
Totally gone, Bailey made a mental note to incorporate that into the lyrics, and perhaps replace 'twitterpated' entirely. 'Totally gone for you' had a good ring to it and it would fit into so many rhyming schemes.
"We've left the studio, but you're still working on it, aren't you?" Tor observed.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, I suppose," Bailey replied, distracted.
"Let's grab a bite to eat," Tor suggested. "We can fill our bellies and turn right back around and go to the studio and work on it while it's still hot, if you want."
Bailey paused mid-step and gave Tor a delighted smile. "You know, I think I'd really like that. You're brilliant."
Tor averted his eyes and got his keys out. His tone was more gruff when he said, "Well, come on then. I'll drive; I know you've got less than half a brain for the road when you're composing."
"Hey," Bailey said, but it was a token protest. Not only was it true, but he not so secretly enjoyed being chauffeured everywhere.
Things went back to normal over the following weeks. Bailey's apology to Gunner had smoothed the way for their relationship to return to what it had been, acting like a pair of teasing, moderately affectionate brothers rather than all the tension on Bailey's end. Best of all, Bailey and Tor were hanging out together and Tor had forgiven Bailey for his behavior, though if there was a certain hesitation in him sometimes, at least Bailey had new insight into the cause.
Bailey was excited with the melody that Tor composed, and went into super overdrive mode writing the lyrics for both versions. When Courage Wolf demo'd the completed public version, their production team was in universal agreement for the viability of the song, and Jonn practically wept over how marketable he thought it would be.
"It's better than my wildest dreams," Jonn said to them during the follow-up meeting. "I wanted you guys to come up with a B-side but I think this would work better as the single, don't you?"
Bailey shared a wide-eyed glance with Tor, who set his mouth in a considering grimace, but shrugged.
"Up to you guys," Tor said.
Bailey was torn. He was worried about the exposure that the song could get, if they turned it out as a proper single. When they had been writing it as a concert draw, Bailey could pretend it was between him and Tor, and had even pictured himself onstage singing solo to Tor without accompaniment, no sound and fury of an audience. He was taking a huge gamble as it was, rehearsing with one version while he prepared in secret to replace it with another.
"Let's keep it as the B-side," Bailey said, folding his beringed hands together. "Makes it feel more exclusive, you know? And only the fans at the concert will get the version I'm going to sing there …"
"Not in the digital age," Jonn replied cynically. "Whatever you want, Bailey. That does make it easier—we've already got all the promo materials set up for 'Unsinkable.' That'll make Danelle happy."
Making Danelle happy was the furthest from Bailey's mind as they shifted gears into preparation for the upcoming exclusive. In point of fact, Bailey was almost certain that his public confession to Tor was going to make his PR manager's life very difficult. He couldn't let himself care; at least a love story was more positive than a public meltdown. He was going to pour his heart and soul out to Tor with the song they'd created together, and he couldn't imagine the fans responding in any way but positively. Though management had tried to downplay the relationships that all four of them had engaged in during the course of their career as Courage Wolf, it had become something beyond an open secret that Bailey dated men. That hadn't hurt their position on the charts, and it gave Bailey modest hope for the next generation.
*~*~*
Rehearsals and scheduling a venue went smoothly, and everything leading up to the day of the concert passed in a blur until Bailey was sitting in their shared dressing room, facing a mirror that was telling him he was ghastly white despite his stylist's best efforts to make him up to look human. Bailey was a wreck of nerves, but he never allowed himself to touch alcohol until after the last song of a set list.
Hands dropped onto his shoulders and Bailey jumped.
"Please tell me you're not thinking about the last time you bombed during a live performance," Tor said behind him.
Bailey's eyes flicked upward in the mirror to meet the gaze of Tor's reflection. "You know me too well," he said hoarsely, and attempted to clear his throat. "I'm going to throw up."
It was even worse than Tor thought—he only knew what he'd seen, Bailey storming off in what everyone else had ascribed to a fit of pique. For Bailey, who'd left the stage after delivering a line that he'd created for a song with Tor, it had only hammered home how much he'd had, unknowing, until he had decided he wanted it and been pushed away.
"You're going to be fine," Tor assured him, his strong fingers flexing in Bailey's shoulders. "Wow, you're really tense."
Bailey tried to un-hunch his shoulders, but he was a lost cause. There was too much riding on this one performance, and on the fact that he was pouring his heart out.
"I thought you loved 'Twitterpated?' Aren't you excited to be performing it for the first time ever?" Tor continued.
As Bailey had predicted, Tor had warmed up to the song title, made easier by the fact that he and Bailey had turned it into a playful satire of the younger generation's tendency to use social networking to confess everything, including affections and hook-ups.
"I do love it," Bailey said honestly, meeting Tor's eyes and taking a deep breath. To him, it was like he was making a far more intimate confession. That only wired his nerves more tightly.
"You're not going to throw up," Tor said. "You're going to be brilliant. As always." His fingers gave a last, reassuring flex before he turned toward the open door.
Their stage manager appeared, rubbing his hands briskly. "All right, gentlemen. It's magic time."
Let's hope, Bailey had time to think to himself, before he was moving for the center of the room to participate in their typical pre-concert huddle. He could barely voice their rallying cry through trembling lips.
Bailey moved like a ghost along the corridor that would take him to the stage. He was barely conscious of the solid line of Sasha's back ahead of him. There was a dull roar coming at him through his in-ear monitors. As he approached the dim lights that limned the curtains, he realized it was his own pulse. He was more detached, yet at the same time more honestly frightened, than he'd been even before his first huge live performance.
This was his whole heart, laid bare as never before.
Walking from the wings of the stage to the chair set in the middle of a spotlight was like moving underwater, through a layer of surreality where sound and light were filtered. Bailey gazed at the crowd beyond the glare of the lights, and saw that they were going wild.
This part Bailey knew how to cope with. He plastered on a grin and waved an arm, settling himself on his chair and grasping
his mic. "How's everybody feeling tonight?" he asked, receiving a storm of screams in response. "Oh, I think we can do better than that … how are you all feeling tonight?"
The screams and shouts washed over him like waves of the ocean sweeping along the shore, and Bailey closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself. He opened his eyes and grinned again.
"That's great, we missed you too!" Bailey exclaimed. "So, we've got some new songs for you tonight. And one of them is just for you." He turned to look at Tor as he said it, unable to help himself.
He found Tor looking back at him and drew strength from that. Even if Tor was only attuned to him because he was waiting for the cue to begin the music, it was still a connection. He nodded to Tor, and behind them, Sasha's drumsticks tapped together.
Bailey launched into their new single, and after the initial screams, the crowd settled down to more of a dull roar to listen.
There was pause for a break in between, and Bailey was expected to draw out the moment, make light banter with the crowd as he usually did. He found himself with a dry mouth and nothing to say. He did attempt some brief chatter and got laughs in response as he led in to the much-anticipated 'Twitterpated.'
At last, he lifted his hand, finger pointing straight to the sky, to signal Sasha to start up the beat. Bailey nodded his head along with it and kept himself focused on the new lyrics. There was a mental catch that he had to overcome, practicing the public version so many times for his band's benefit. This was the version he'd always meant Tor to hear, though.
"And for a special treat," Bailey said breathlessly, "I'll be performing our secret B-side for you … it's called '#meandyou.'"
The guitar line started a half a beat late, but picked up over a brief fumble of chords. Bailey lifted his chin and gazed out at the crowd, trying not to wince. They were off to a rocky start, but that was undeniable proof that Tor had noticed he'd changed the title. A lot of the structural themes were similar, but Bailey had turned it into a love song, and a personal appeal.
He didn't gaze at the crowd as he sang; instead, he re-settled himself in his chair and looked at Tor.
"The way it's been was like a love invasion, always looking hoping and everlasting craving; But the heart of me has come to know this truth: There was one person for me and it's the friend from my youth," Bailey sang, fixated on Tor for the entire refrain.
As he sang, Tor's expression seemed to shut down and he kept his eyes downturned, riveted to his guitar. The chords flowed smoothly from his fingers without pause, though.
Bailey followed the bridge to the chorus. "Add the tag #itstrue," he sang, putting his whole heart into the message. "I'm in love and now I know that person is you. Add the tag #brandnew; I'm starting over, take this chance and begin something with you."
There was a sour note from Gunner's bass, and Bailey had to bite his lip to hide his smile. Now Gunner had noticed and done his own musical slip-up in the process. Bailey wouldn't even be able to get on his case about it.
It wasn't the first time he, or they, had done improv during a show, but it was definitely the most drastic. Bailey had never had the guts to entirely replace the lyrics to a song before, after all. They forged onward, though, and Bailey grew increasingly hopeful as all their instruments, and his voice, pulled together to make a cohesive, moving rock ballad—just as he'd hoped.
The original version had been impersonal, more of a third-person view of boys and girls and the way they expressed their feelings over social media, from hook-ups to ending relationships. Bailey had turned it very personal, and each of the pronouns he'd wielded before had turned into 'me' and 'you.' It was him and Tor, and he sang to Tor as though he was the only person on the stage.
In that moment, for Bailey he was.
Tor had kept his head down, his fingers moving steadily through the whole song. Needing to draw his attention, Bailey stood from his chair and grasped his mic, removing it from his stand to walk over to Tor and stand beside him. He sang the last refrain to him; there was no mistaking it.
"To sum it up, my whole heart for you waiting; searching for answers hoping we'll end up dating, I'll lay it out there, I think our time hasn't passed. You weren't first but I hope that you'll be the last." He stood, chest heaving, eyes bright as he lowered the microphone.
The instruments wound down through the closure of the song and fell silent.
For a moment, Bailey thought the sound thrumming through his in-ear monitors was white noise, or the frantic rush of his own heartbeat, until he glanced to the side and saw the crowd on their feet, screaming. Hands were in the air and the flashes from a thousand cell phones were going off.
Bailey bit his lip and turned back to Tor. Although there had been an audience, only one person's reaction mattered to him.
"That was great," Tor said to him, eyes gone dark as he unshouldered his guitar and left it on its stand. "A great performance, Bailey." With that, he turned his back and walked offstage.
Bailey stood and all he could do was stare as his love walked out on him and left his confession in ruins.
It seemed like it would be the end of Courage Wolf.
After Tor walked out, no one heard from him for days. They had to cancel a few planned group appearances and postpone some others while they attempted to get their affairs in order.
"You have to talk to him," Jonn insisted over the phone to Bailey. Even without the benefit of his in-person presence, Bailey could see him pulling his hair.
"Don't pull your hair out," Bailey said absently. "If you have to wear a toupee you'd never forgive me. Anyhow, don't you think I've tried? He won't answer my e-mails, my texts, or my calls."
"What would you know about hair loss? Go see Tor in person, then," Jonn said. "Bailey. You have to make this right. Courage Wolf is under contract—"
"I don't give a fuck about the contract," Bailey snarled. "If Tor won't … If we can't patch this up, if he won't believe me, then it might all be over, do you understand?"
Jonn was silent for a long moment. "So ask yourself," he said at last, quiet and measured. "Could you let it all end without doing everything you possibly can to fix it?"
Bailey released a small, strangled groan. "I've tried every angle—"
"Maybe that's the problem," Jonn interrupted. "You can't treat Tor like a problem to solve, or a pair of pants to seduce, or like every other man that you've, uh, angled. Successfully. Quite successfully. So much—"
"Shut up," Bailey snapped. "I'm not the band bicycle, all right? Gunner still has that title. But, what are you saying?"
"Just talk to him, and tell him how you really feel," Jonn said.
Bailey wrinkled his nose. "It cannot be that simple," he said.
"Try it," Jonn said. "Or so help me, I'll …" He trailed off without producing a viable threat, but Bailey got the message.
He still dithered for half a day, tying himself up in knots over what to do, or say. Whether he ought to show up at Tor's doorstep and ring the doorbell until he answered, or break in and risk getting arrested, or just lie there pathetically until Tor left the house and tripped over them—none of those approaches seemed quite right. The one that Jonn had suggested seemed far too easy.
Eventually, though, Bailey was able to summon up the nerve to leave his house. He was makeup free, for once, and he tied his hair in a neat ponytail at the base of his neck, eschewing any styling. If candor was called for, then that was precisely what Tor would get. He'd seen Bailey in every stage of informality from fresh out of bed to hammered unto the point of collapse. There was no point glamming himself up for one last appeal.
Tor would get him as he was, and perhaps that had been what Jonn was getting at.
Bailey didn't call or text in advance. He pulled his car into Tor's driveway and was gratified to note that Tor's Camaro was there. He knocked on the front door, stood out of the way of the fisheye peephole that would grant Tor a view of his doorstep, and waited until the door opened.
When Tor a
ppeared, he looked hollow, dark circles beneath his eyes. He leveled an empty gaze on Bailey.
"I thought you'd show," he said, his tone utterly uncaring. "Thought it would be sooner, though."
Bailey caught his breath, stung. "You walked out on me," he began, and stopped himself, shaking his head. It was an effort not to cross his arms defensively over his chest. "Can we talk?"
"Knock yourself out," Tor said, pushing the door wide and turning away, shuffling toward the sparsely decorated front room.
It hadn't exactly been an invitation, but Bailey trailed after him, shutting the front door behind him and standing near Tor when he realized that Tor wasn't going to have a seat on one of the overstuffed couches. He didn't want Bailey to make himself at home, Bailey realized, and that alone made him want to give up and leave.
"You left," Bailey observed inanely.
"Why should I have stayed?" Tor said, a spark of anger surfacing in his eyes. "You got out your grand confession to the fans, Bailey. I don't know what you thought you were doing, whether it was some publicity stunt, or—"
"It was a real confession!" Bailey exclaimed, cutting across Tor. "Because you wouldn't believe me when I tried to tell you any other way!"
"Believe what?" Tor said with a scoff. "That you want to get into my pants; that you want to fuck me, just like every other guy you've been with and tossed aside?"
"That is not what I've done!" Bailey raged. "It's never worked out before, because it wasn't … he wasn't right for me, or I wasn't right for him. But I never used anyone, Tor."
"Right," Tor said. He drew himself up, hands buried in his pockets, and regarded Bailey with skepticism. "Like you don't want to use me."
"I don't," Bailey insisted. "That's not … Did you not even listen to the song, Tor?"
"It was a performance," Tor said after a moment, turning his face away from Bailey. "Just like every other spectacular performance you've ever put on. I don't know why, though."