26. Varian

He wrote ‘My dear' under the words already below my collarbones, and it changed my brain chemistry. I thought about it through our entire set, through each time our eyes met. It seared into my skin when he climbed in next to me in the cab, when he didn't scoot into the other seat, leaving our thighs and shoulders pressed.

"Which one of you first?" The tattoo artist looked between us, and I thought I saw a flicker of recognition there, but he didn't say more.

"Me," I said, having made up my mind on the ride over. "I already have what I want ready to go." I tugged off my shirt. "Can you go over this? Exactly like it is?"

Arik's gaze burned into the side of my face, but I didn't look at him. I kept my attention on the artist.

He stepped closer, inspecting the writing. "Easy enough. Let's go get you prepared."

I laid out on his table and Arik stood over us, not saying a word as the artist cleaned the area and shaved the bit of hair there. I finally met his eyes. Arik smiled and shook his head.

I tilted my head, mouthing, "Like it?" when the artist turned his back to grab ink.

"Yes," he whispered, his face telling me more than the word.

The ink was quick, and I looked into Arik's eyes the entire time. Neither one of us looked away, and it felt the most loved and accepted I'd ever been.

The artist taped cling wrap over my tattoo and then turned to Arik. "What are we doing for you?"

Arik pulled a picture of black dots out of his back pocket. I knew what it was immediately. But how?

"I want this on my chest. Over my heart." He handed it over.

He took it and studied it. "Sure. Let me get a look at the area."

Arik took off his shirt, standing before the artist and presenting his chest.

The artist held up the drawing. "Which way do you want it."

Arik turned the paper carefully and held it. "Like this."

"Great. Let me go make a stencil." The artist took the paper and went to the back of the shop.

As soon as he was out of hearing range, I spoke, "Where did you get that?"

"I made it." Arik got this coy curve to his mouth. I wanted to kiss off his face.

"When?" I demanded.

"The day after you drew it. I had Serafin trace it again and again until it was perfect."

I shook my head, unable to fight the grin quickly taking my face. "Why?"

He lifted his shoulders. "I don't know what made me do it. But I wanted to keep it."

"Why are you putting it on your chest?"

"That's where I want it." It was so simple and so loaded. "Do you like it?"

"I love it." I stepped closer to him, stealing a moment.

Could we make a lifetime of all these stolen moments? Could it be enough for me? The confused bisexual and the broken one.

"I thought a lot about it." His voice got thicker, softer. More loaded. "You're important to me."

"I better be. I'm about to be tattooed on your body forever."

"You'll always be important to me." He was closer somehow, but I hadn't noticed either one of us move.

"And you'll always be important to me." It hurt to say, because I knew I might not mean it the same way he did. I knew then I'd love him my entire life. Arik would be a more permanent scar on my heart than the one my father gave me on my face and I'd live with it for another night with him. For as many as I could get.

Our hands found each other in the cab ride back, not quite holding but on top of one another.

Kiernan stood outside the bus smoking a cigarette when we got back. He blocked the door. "Cutting it close."

Arik shrugged unapologetically. "We have five minutes to spare."

"Sorry about that. My fault," I said, not wanting to piss off his manager and not be allowed on their bus or something.

"What were you two doing?" Kiernan acted like this was an inquisition.

We'd never been late. It felt unwarranted.

"I got my first tattoo." Arik pulled down the neck of his shirt to expose the new ink.

Kiernan's gaze flickered to it. "At least it's in a place you can hide it."

Arik stared at him. "What the fuck?"

"You guys are in a really fragile place right now." Kiernan focused on Arik and stepped closer. "The label is planning a major push and a tour. We don't want to give them any reason to spook."

Arik made a face. "What are you saying? It's a tattoo."

Kiernan dropped his cig and crushed it under his toe with a sigh. "It's everything, Arik. This industry is like trying to carry water with your bare hands while threading a needle they keep moving. It's image and marketability and going against Parents for Clean Music. Look at Eminem. He raps about something, and now he carries responsibility for a generation of delinquents. But the difference is, he's big enough to weather it. You're not yet. You have to get there before you can try the system. We need to get this tour booked and more singles to number one, and I want you to recognize that I'm your friend, but I'm also here to wrangle the circus."

"What are you saying?" Arik asked again, flexing his jaw, while squaring up with his manager. But I didn't need to be told. I knew what Kiernan meant. I'd been told it my whole life by my grandparents and our manager and my brother.

I knew I had to hide who I was and all my father's secrets if I wanted to make it. Not be too queer, but queer enough to appeal. Use my nepotism, but not make it obvious. The game was rigged with rules they'd never tell us, and navigating it was a nightmare.

"Just that you need to be careful. Both of you."

"Message received." I gave him a half-salute.

Kiernan narrowed his eyes at me but didn't speak.

"Want me to go?" I asked Arik.

"No, why would I want you to…" He glanced between Kiernan and me. Then he shoved past his manager and onto the bus.

I met Kiernan's eyes. "Do you have something you'd like to say to me?"

"You know I have nothing against you. But people are talking."

"Who's talking?" I asked calmly.

"It's just rumors. But roadies and bands talk. The gossip in this industry is rampant. I know you know that."

I didn't like the way he said it. "What would I know?"

"You've been immersed in this your entire life. You know how it is. You've grown up in it. I know you don't want it affecting you, either." Kiernan softened, but I knew he wouldn't say it. No one would fucking say it.

I pointed at my face. "I had to learn a long time ago not to listen to what anyone says about me because the rumors are never true."

"Are they not true?" Kiernan asked.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to hope or say that it was more than it was. "We aren't fucking, if that's what you're asking." It was true without admitting or denying anything.

He looked me over but didn't say anything more. I stepped onto the bus but didn't see Arik. The lights were out and the front lounge abandoned, which meant the guys were either crashed out for the night or indisposed somewhere else.

I didn't want to call for him and risk waking everyone else up. I leaned against the wall, the weight of it all hitting me. What the fuck was I doing?

It felt like I was walking a tightrope between ruining my friendship and my career. No, not a tightrope. Some kind of ride I was already on and too far to turn back.

I closed my eyes, not sure what the right thing to do was. Stay in the front lounge and leave Arik alone. Keep it just friends or go find him.

I forced myself off the wall before Kiernan came in. I didn't want him to see me in a moment of vulnerability. I stepped further into the lounge, pulling at my shirt and exhaling slowly. I'd check his bunk. If he was already asleep or trying to avoid me, I'd grab one of the empty bunks. I moved his curtain a hair, peering into the dark space, willing my eyes to focus. I couldn't see shit.

I opened it further, letting some of the ambient light from the bus into the space. It was empty. What the fuck? Not like he was in the back lounge where Hael was holed up.

"Looking for me?" Arik purred behind me, sending a shiver down my spine.