37. Varian

Home / Goodbye Note / 37. Varian

Goodbye Note

J.R. Gray

Arik's grip tightened on my arm, and his face crumpled in a way I'd never seen before. "Mom, I'm fine. I don't know what you're talking about. Grandma called? Who told Grandma?"

I frowned, listening to him. Had something broken about us?

Did his family know?

I grabbed the laptop off the table and pulled up TMZ. They always seemed to have this stuff before anyone else. I scanned the front page of the blog for either of our names while eavesdropping for more clues.

Nothing.

I did a quick Google search in case it was viral somewhere else from a fan video.

"I'm fine. I promise." He frowned and made eye contact. "There wasn't an accident. I've been on the bus all night. Ser is fine. He's sitting next to me playing video games?—"

"What?" I mouthed.

I clicked over to see what was trending, and sure enough, a bus had crashed, and it was reported to be Second Star's bus.

"I don't know what they are talking about. Really, I'm not trying to keep anything from you."

"They think you're dead?" I said under my breath, and pulled up his social media. It was already flooded with fan comments and tags. "When did this break?"

The rest of the guys took notice and stopped their games.

"What the fuck?" Serafin said.

I handed my laptop to him.

Ser scrolled the page and then handed it back. "God-fucking-damn it. I'm going to go wake up Kiernan."

"When was it posted?" Koa asked.

"About an hour ago." I offered my laptop to him.

"Who the fuck even does this?" He shook his head as he read.

"Right? Like, who believes a random post on social media about you being dead, and then why do all these people run with it? It's fucking wild.

"Wouldn't it have been reported on by a major news site?" Koa sat back in disbelief.

"Or TMZ at least. They break shit all the time, which is gross, but if no website is talking about it, why are people believing it?"

"It's the age of social media," Kiernan said, looking groggy as fuck. "I think these gossip blogs like to try and be the first one to get something out, but who knows why people on Twitter do it. Trolling?"

"Just video call. Then you can see everyone is fine," Arik said, exasperated.

I felt bad for him, but since I'd been on the bad end of that news with my mother to my grandparents, I knew what this shit did firsthand. I rubbed his shoulder. "Be nice."

His gaze flicked up at me, and then he nodded.

My phone rang, and I picked it up, already knowing who it was. "I'm fine."

"You fucking better be, you cunt." Vallen's voice croaked like he'd also been woken up with it.

"It's bullshit. No crash. Nothing. Someone made it up."

"Christ on a fucking cracker. You cannot do that to me. Why didn't you call?" The emotion in his voice hit me in the chest.

"We just saw it. None of us were on our phones. We're playing games when Arik's mother called, freaking out." I knew his trauma was a different shape than mine, but he suffered from it too. There was no comparing. None of it was good.

"I… That was the worst two minutes of my life."

"I'm sorry."

"I love you." There was security in my brother's words. "But if you die, I'm bringing you back from the dead so I can kill you myself."

"I love you too. Go back to sleep."

"If I can slow my fucking heart rate down."

Arik got up to make the video call. "See? I'm alive. Don't just believe stuff you read on the internet… Yes, I know you can't tell Gran that because she's ninety-four… What?"

There was a long pause and more yelling. I cocked my head in a silent question.

Arik's gaze flickered to me, but he gave a subtle shake of his head. "Yes, it's a tattoo. It's small. It's not a big deal."

"It's on your hand!" I heard and cringed.

Half an hour had passed before Arik slumped into the seat next to me again. The other guys had gone to bed or at least to their bunks while Kiernan was in the back room dealing with the publicity shit.

"Well, I'm fucked."

"What happened?"

"They, in no uncertain terms, told me to come home right now, like I'm not twenty-fucking-one years old. They want me back in school in the fall. They threatened to sell all the shit I left in their house. All my instruments. They told me they won't help me pay for an apartment unless I'm in school, so I'll have nowhere for my stuff when I do go back there if they haven't already sold it. So I have to figure out the logistics of all that."

"Can you cover rent?"

He closed one eye. "Maybe. Not like we get paid in a timely manner, though, and I don't know where we are at with merch. It's been good, but we have to wait for the credit card payouts on that shit, too."

I slipped my arm around him, and he pressed his face into my shoulder, knees pulled into his chest. "Do you want me to pay your rent? Or for, like, a storage unit?"

"My place is sublet for the summer, and if we go on tour, I'll find somewhere else for the semester, but all my stuff is at my parents' house."

"So maybe a storage unit."

"You can't do that."

I put my hand on the side of his neck, gently stroking my thumb over his skin. "Yes, I can. I told you, we are pretty flush. We have the band money and my mom's estate. We get all her royalties and shit."

"I can't take that from you."

"Yes, you can." I pressed my lips to his forehead. "And you'll be fine. You have a massive tour lined up. You know what else you could do?"

"What?" He picked his head up.

"Do a limited drop of those ghost shirts. You could do a bunch of funny shit on them. Lindsay would help. She might not even take a cut."

"I can't not pay her."

I shrugged. "Fine, give her a percent. She'll push them, and you can throw them up online, too. Start your own label, and then you don't have to give the label a cut since it's not band merch."

I exhaled. "What if that draws more attention to the rumors about us?"

"I modeled for you. Say wearing them was a stunt to get buzz going. We'll have our photog shoot some pictures."

A spark of hope made it to his eyes, and that was enough.

"Let's find a tattoo shop to get our galaxies at the next stop."

I found a picture of the butterfly galaxy on his journal the next morning.

give me butterflies like galaxies.

a shape i'd never hoped to feel.

thought YOU were andromeda at night.

i wrote you into stars

while you carved your name into MY HEART

only to medusa merger and collide too soon

and i'll never

never escape the wreckage

* * *

Every minute we weren't onstage from that point on, we were naked. It wasn't always easy, but we took advantage of every place we could be alone. Including rest stop showers, which I'm not really proud of, but I was addicted to him.

We got more tattoos and avoided calls from our parents.

I tried to keep his mind off the stress, but he slept less and less. Getting off seemed to be the only thing that would make him pass out.

"Can you two talk?" Kiernan was flanked by John, which wasn't good. We didn't need those two talking.

"Yep," Arik said, turning to Serafin. "I'll catch up."

Ser frowned but didn't say anything since they had been on the way to sound check.

"Let's go inside." Kiernan held the door for John.

Arik and I exchanged a look before following them in.

"I thought we told you both to lie low," John started when we sat down.

"We have been." Arik was already defensive. Not the way to deal with anyone with authority.

"Then why are there whole Tumblr blogs and conspiracy TikToks dedicated to your ship? It's everywhere. Varick was trending when the ghost shirts went on sale?—"

"I modeled for him. So did Val and Serafin," I cut in.

"But the first night, you two wore them," John said.

"Again, that was to create buzz. It worked. Should we not have good business ideas?" Now I was getting annoyed.

"Why are there pictures of Arik wearing your clothes?" John asked, taking a different approach.

I should have seen that one coming. "My clothes? He's wearing a Dopamine-Fiend tee. He's a fan and supportive."

John opened his phone and flipped through an unhinged page, showing things he was wearing of mine. There were tons of photos of us with the items circled.

"Who doesn't borrow each other's clothes on tour? He showered and stole a shirt and a pair of shorts. It's not a big deal."

"The fans seem to think it is."

"Did you get more coordinating tattoos?"

We didn't even have to answer.My poker face sucks.

"They are saying this is you coming out," Kiernan said to Arik and then read one of his journal posts. "‘A dopamine shot straight to the brain keeps me coming back for more. Sunrise isn't so bad when you have your best friend to watch it with you. Pink purple and blue splashed across the sky gives new meaning to life.'"

"What about that is coming out?" Arik said through his teeth.

"Those are the bisexual flag colors, I'm told."

"They are just taking the piss." I scrubbed a hand over my face.

"Maybe you two should spend some time apart," John suggested.

"Don't fucking ask me to do that. Besides, that will look worse. We are friends, and if we change our behavior based on this crap, that will only have them talking more." I laced my fingers behind my head. I wasn't sure what the answer was, but I only had a month left with Arik. I wasn't going to waste it.

"Why do we even have to hide? Why can't we just do what we want and not comment?" Arik glanced between them and slid his fingers between mine.

"You can't come out!" Kiernan and John said together, like he'd just threatened to post naked pictures of himself.

"Why not?"

I smiled, squeezing his hand.

"I told you, we are in a really fragile place with the tour and the label. We need their full backing for this, and then you will blow up. If you give it a couple years and do what they say, then you will have ‘fuck you' money to do whatever you want."

"A couple of years?" Arik was on his feet.

"It's not that long. You two are young." John's subtext was clear. ‘If you last that long.'

I knew where he was coming from. Relationships in this business were hard, but I hated him for it.

"Staying away from each other isn't a solution."

"You can't blow up stuff with the label," Kiernan said, not unkindly. "I'm just trying to protect both of you."

Arik didn't go to sound check. "Fuck them."

"I know."

He got up to pace the length of the bus.

"Just say it." Fear ate at my throat.

"That was really close. We have to be more careful even with our touching and sharing clothes. What the fuck will I do if they cancel our tour? Go back to school?" He shoved his hands into his hair. "I can't go back."

Sadness took hold of my chest. I'd been so happy twenty minutes ago at the idea of coming out, but I knew it was stupid. I knew we couldn't. His parents would freak and my dad would throw a fit, not to mention our management and labels. But the idea had taken root, and I wanted it.

It felt like losing. Cutting off a part of us even if we never had it.

Rejection iced my veins.

What if he pulled back? What if he actually listened to them and… I had to get it to-fucking-gether.

The rumors would kill us.

perfect is an illusion. stop striving for something they made impossible

we can be shooting stars and miss our marks and be lost in the heavens As long as it's together

think about the way this will end. (are any of us here long? Right or wrong)

how long and how short our time on Earth

think about best friends

think aboUt the best nights of our life

think about nothing they say is true

don't believe a word of it because you're not living it