37. Epilogue

Epilogue

Jorge

E arlier that day.

I have a secret.

A filthy, horrible, backstabbing secret that I’ll keep clutched to my chest for however long I need to. This is what I get for being a nice guy, honestly. I’m charming, friendly, and have a hero complex like a sonofabitch. It’s easier to save other people than yourself, after all. And I'll use all my talents to my advantage if it keeps up my facade.

It’s not that I’m secretly depressed or miserable. I’ve got it good, all things considered. But there is the monumental lie I can’t seem to own up to, even though I know without a shadow of a doubt that it’ll cost me the most important person in my life.

What’s worse is that it really started off so innocently. I was trying to be helpful. My best friend just had his heart broken, and I scrambled to find anything to make it better—even minimally.

Like, I’m the bestest friend ever. It’s what I do.

I'll never understand how it transformed into what it is now...

As if the secret itself wasn’t bad enough, I’m fucking attached. Like, I’m a stage five clinger. My phone is glued to my hand as often as it can be. I wait with bated breath for the texts, video calls, and time off from doing band stuff. I’m so shady and don’t know how anyone hasn’t noticed.

Well, Phoenix is too busy wanting to stuff his dick up his boyfriend’s ass—Devon and Michael like their alone time away from my neediness. And Kelly is just…Kelly. Independent as they come, that one.

So, maybe it isn’t so farfetched that I haven’t been found out yet. But it’s only a matter of time.

We are back home from our European tour; our plane just landed. I power on my phone because I’m itching to get my fix. I need to send out the text that says I’m home and available. I’m nauseous and excited all at the same time. God, I just can’t wait to see him. He’s been doing so well. I’m super proud.

The seatbelt light clicks off as the plane pulls up to the terminal, and we all stand to grab our shit from the overhead compartments. Phoenix is anxious, chomping at the bit to get off because he’s going straight to Eli.

I guess I’m proud of that fucker too. But I always thought he had it in him. And my expert and sage advice has nothing to do with experience. No, it’s due to this secret.

Ugh. I’m a terrible, terrible person.

I get in the line of people ready to get off this bitch while Phoenix groans impatiently behind me, but I can’t focus on that right now. No. Pulling up the text thread, my fingers fly over the keyboard at light speed.

Just landed.

He reads it instantly. God, this is bad. So, so bad.

Oliver: See you soon?

Yup.

I’ll get ready.

To Be Continued…