Ivan Petrov
It was past midnight but the night was still young. What I thought would be a two hour long concert stretched until the next day. Cal and his band had been playing request after request of My Chem songs for more than four hours, but they were far from stopping. Cal even asked a fan for a bottle of water.
At around one in the morning, Cal held onto the microphone stand and panted below the mic, his pink hair matted with sweat. "I'm gonna call this a night. One of the best nights I've had."
The crowd roared with a tired zeal. Leslie, the drummer, had his head thrown behind as he shifted on his stool. F.K., everyone's favorite bassist after tonight, still seemed to have some energy left, occasionally shooting a wry smile to someone in the crowd, some female person.
Cal took a bow. "I wish the night lasted forever."
And with that, the band - whatever their name is right now - leave the stage. Most of the crowd dwindle out, heading home.
Hope still hasn't let go of my hand. I haven't either. We stand as still as rocks as a river of people flow on both sides of us, but never between us. We're stuck like glue. I want to say something but I can't, I don't want to ruin this.
We stay that way until all that's left of the gig is an overused stage and a barren meadow, and two boys who don't want this night to end.
I don't know how long we stand with our arms pressed together but long enough for Cal, F.K. and Leslie to come out of their hideout or whatever and look at us with wide eyes. I'm frozen because I've never consciously felt his skin on mine for this long. Maybe I have the same effect on him?
Cal just smiles at us and walks over. "There's a midnight fair or something a couple of miles away. F.K. says it runs for twenty-four hours one day a month. Have you been there before?"
Hope shakes his head beside me and I wordlessly do the same.
Leslie nods, his hair tied back into a ponytail. I don't even want to think of my hair at this point - it's been uncombed and untied ever since I got the fracture - I can't make my hair with just one hand and I didn't want anyone else's help.
Yes I've got a massive ego. Wanna talk about it?
"Have you ever been to one of our shows before this?" Leslie asks.
We shake our heads again. F.K. nods. "So first time, then? Guess we could all go to that fair together."
Cal smiles at her and then at us. He's been smiling all night. "Need a ride?"
"No, uh. We came in my car." Hope is stuttering. Now that's a first.
"So the fair," Cal says, blowing away all the awkwardness from the air. "Can I come with you guys? It becomes awfully quiet when I hitch a ride with these two after a show." He gestures at his bandmates. "They're all tired and I need to talk to reenergise myself."
"Sure." I'm calmer now. Cal's voice makes you feel like you've known him forever. Hope looks at me with an expression I cannot decode and then nods approvingly. The three of us head to the convertible in silence. F.K. and Leslie board an Uber.
As Hope drives us to the fair, Cal and I talk about one of the only things we have in common - My Chemical Romance. He's the one doing most of the talking though, I'm just listening. He knows more about them than I do, which isn't very surprising because when I spent all my free time listening to their songs, he'd read Frerard smut on a fanfiction site and stalk their Twitters. I guess he's more obsessed with them than I am.
Wait, what? Not possible.
Hope grunts a bit. If he's annoyed about Cal and I leaving him out of the conversation, he doesn't show it. Or he tries not to show it. Hope is an open book, I bet even Cal can see through his defenses through the rear-view mirror.
But he's been in a mood ever since Cal and I started talking. Ever since Cal casually mentioned that he's bisexual, to be accurate. And then Cal said I was cute. I would totally date you if you were single. Hope's eyes burned a bright green, like that of cold dragons.
I stopped myself from saying 'But I am single' because Hope looked like he'd breathe out fire if I did.
We reach the fair soon after, Hope still scowling and not-so-secretly glaring at Cal. Someone's in a mood.
We buy our tickets and split up. Leslie, F.K. and Hope would go on together, leaving Cal and I to explore the fair on our own. Hope didn't utter a word but I knew he wasn't pleased.
"Dude, your boyfriend looked like he'd kill me the second you aren't around," Cal says when we're standing in line for the ferris wheel.
He runs his fingers through his pink hair, messing it up even more. I can't help but compare it to Hope's hair when it's unruly. I'm not saying Cal doesn't look good with wild hair - he does - but he's nothing compared to Hope.
Hope. "He's not my boyfriend." I don't mention that I wish he was sometimes. All the time.
Cal's eyes widen. I know he doesn't believe me. "Tell me you're kidding."
I shrug. "I'd be lying."
"You're saying all those glares that felt like death-threats and scowling and extreme jealousy and icy silence--"
"He's straight," I say, more to myself than to him. "He's just moody sometimes."
He looks at me with disbelief. We take our seat next to each other in the ferris wheel that's now come to a halt. Once it starts, we continue our conversation.
"I don't believe you," he concludes.
Sometimes I don't either. "He's straight."
"My gaydar makes me believe otherwise."
My eyes widen. What if Hope actually-- My mouth shuts up my thoughts. "Because I'm always there when he is."
He doesn't look like he completely believes me but he doesn't protest. He grins. "Do you like him?"
I look away, at the ground that's dotted with people the way the sky is full of stars. "No." It comes out hoarser than I expect.
When I look back at Cal, he's inched closer. "Is there anyone else?"
I shake my head. His eyes are a warm grey. I'd call them beautiful if I weren't thinking of Hope's.
"Kissed a guy before?" His voice is smooth like honey. Sweet but thick with all that singing.
I nod. "It's been a while."
"Would you want to once again?"
My eyes widen. No one's ever asked me for something like that, it usually just happened anyway.
He must've seen my shock because he says, "It's fine if you don't want to. You're just really cute and I was wondering if--"
I don't let him finish the sentence. I know I've taken him by surprise as I let my lips crash into his.
His hand slides behind my back, pressing me closer to him. My eyes are shut. My stomach drops and it's not because we're still in the Ferris wheel. What if Hope sees us?
I can imagine how he'd look, green eyes brighter than the stars and more fierce than the sun. Green like a venus flytrap staring at its prey. Green like envy. I imagine staring at him, how his eyes soften when they look at me. I could be kissing him right now, but I know that'll never happen.
I kiss him like I've always imagined, always wanted to, but Cal's lips aren't Hope's lips. His hair isn't Hope's hair. But I'll take that because this is the most I'll ever have of him.
My fingers run up his nape, through his hair. My stomach presses his, our knees fold. This is all I can have of him.
His shoulders aren't as broad, his hair isn't as wavy, and our kiss isn't as intense as they are when I dream. I feel his hand on my sides, his mouth's receding and then it's gone. He's pulled away, his eyes still on me, sore lip.
I move away from him and straighten my back, then my shirt. He's still slouched over the seat, shirt crumbled, lips parted. And he won't stop looking at me. A part of me wants to snap at him but I won't give him that satisfaction.
Finally, he says something. "You weren't kissing me." It's not a question.
I avert my gaze: the stars have increased. I don't question him, don't answer. I'd feel terrible if I were him.
"You don't have to lie about not having a boyfriend when--"
"He's not my boyfriend!" It comes out harsher than I expect. I mutter a sorry afterward but he doesn't hear it. I said it in my head.
"Your friend, then? A lot of us fall for our best friends." Us. Like we're all in some gay-exclusive chat group.
I shake my head. "He's... We play basketball. We're captains."
He pulls his back up the seat, pink hair falling on grey eyes. "Look, I know I know nothing about sports, but I'm not that clueless. A team has one captain."
"We're in rival teams."
It's like I've dropped a bomb. His eyes widen and then he smirks. "But you guys share the same car, go to the same concerts..."
"Long story."
He doesn't feel bad that I won't give him an answer, his smirk stays. "I figured. The way you two look at each other... I won't blame you, Lex is pretty attractive. Just not my type."
I raise a brow. "What's your type then?"
He shrugs. "I still have to figure that out. But generally people who know me. Kind people, I guess."
I always thought a type always defined physical characteristics - blonde hair, blue eyes, cheerleaders.
"Kind? Let me guess? F.K? Or is it Leslie?"
His smirk dissolves into a smile, his eyes seem miles away. "Both, I think." We share a brief moment of silence and then he's back to smirking again. "You aren't out, are you?"
I shake my head. "People know. I didn't tell them."
He nods. "Do you ever wish you weren't gay?"
I sigh, leaning against the seat. "Almost all the time."
He frowns, then his hand finds mine. "Why?"
My brows cross. I don't like speaking of these things. "It isn't normal. I mean, yeah, I know I can't change it, I have to accept it. But that's only because I don't have a choice. Why can't I just be normal and fall for girls? Why guys? Why him?"
"You know when I realized I liked guys and girls, I was glad. I felt like I could hide it and only be with girls. I thought I'd escape coming out and all that hate they give."
I would've never expected a guy like Cal to be ashamed of his sexuality, to be timid and fall for society's expectations.
"It took me a lot of time to realize that my sexuality is something I should be proud of. No one else is going to do that for me, I'm going to stand tall - not despite my bisexuality, but because of it. Sure I can't change it, but I'm not going to hide it either."
"People hate me for it."
"Lex doesn't, does he?"
I shake my head. "I can't expect everyone to be like him."
"And I'm not telling you they will be. You're going to face some real shit. But there will always be people who support you, who love you for who you are. Always. But you're going to have to start with loving yourself first. Being proud of who you are, and you'll see a lot of others who will support you and be there for you."
"How bad was it when you came out?"
"It felt more like a relief, actually. It's like I was living a lie and finally, I told them what I'd been hiding. It felt good. Sure some people didn't like me for it, but I'll never regret it."
I nod. And then I smile and squeeze his hand. "You're right."
He takes my hand and loops it around his neck. "I'm not letting you go that easily. You're going to have to do something."
I stare at him.
"Woah, I'm not asking you to kiss me or anything. I was just wondering if you could come out to me."
My brows knit together in confusion. "But you already know."
"There's a difference when you say it for yourself. You'll never know if you never try."
I inhale and look at him in the eye. I'd look at them if I couldn't look at Hope's. They're gentle, trusting. "I'm gay, Cal."
He beams, the grey of his eyes shines. "I'm proud of you, Ivan." Then he grabs my back and gives me the best hug I've received in a while. I'm smiling with him.
He releases me. "How does it feel?"
I released a breath. I just shake my head. "Why didn't I do this before?"
I hear Cal chuckle beside me. "Better late than never, mate." He leans forward and kisses my cheek. "Now that I've officially 'mate'-ed you, if I'm touchy with you it means we're close - platonically speaking, right?"
I look at him weirdly. "If you say so, bro."
He bumps his shoulder to mine and hangs his hand loose around my neck. "You like your rival and I like my band members. Leslie's probably straight and F.K. 's aro-ace for all I know. Your man gives me these vibes. Don't lose hope, Ivie."
Vibes? Ivie? "I won't." Anyone who calls me 'Ivie' is officially friend-zoned. Or in this case, bro-zoned. Idiot.
He brings out his phone. His phone cover has orange on the top that merges into pink as it continues below. Like a lesbian flag. I pretend to not notice. "What's your Instagram?" he asks, face glowing by the light of his phone.
"I don't have one."
In all my years of (pathetic) living, I've never seen an expression as shocked as the one on Cal's face right now.
It probably took a whole minute for his widened eyes to normalize and his jaw to stop hanging. After regaining his composure, he speaks. "You mean you have a personal one and don't want to tell me, right?"
"I've never created one, like, ever. I'm being serious, Cal."
"But how! You're what, eighteen--"
"Seventeen," I correct him.
"Seventeen and incredibly hot and instagramless. Sounds impossible. No wonder you're still single."
I glare at him, punch him on the arm as the Ferris wheel comes to a halt. After we get off, Cal shoves his hands into his jacket pocket. "You should probably tell the real reason you're single to make you one. It'll be cute, really: both of you fighting over a good username and - because you like him so much - you'll cave in. He'll probably ask for a victory kiss and you two will finally get together!"
I roll my eyes. "It's not that easy, Cal."
"What's not that easy?" Hope's standing in front of us, Leslie in tow, with a frown on his face. He's frowning, his hair looks more like a heap of hay and his shirt has a large blue stain on the chest area. And yet, my stomach tightens and my heartbeat quickens.
I've just got off a Ferris wheel ride so that's saying something.
The real reason you're single.
"Mister Hotshot," Cal says. I'd punch him if I could. Both of them. "We were just talking about you."
"About me?" Hope raises his brows. "Didn't think I'd be of any interest after that ride. You two had a lot of fun, didn't you?"
His voice drips of something I can't quite place. His eyes are green but they're not as pleasant as they used to be.
"Oh we did." Cal winks at me. Hope's eyes get greener - with what? Rage? Fury? Anger?
Who am I kidding? They all mean the same thing. "Yeah, pretty fun. Where's F.K.?" I ask, desperate to change the topic.
Cal's expression shifts from casual will-steal-your-boy to some kind of desperate the-love-of-my-life-is-missing attitude. "Leslie, where is she?"
"We were doing this weird rollercoaster and she felt sick," Leslie explains. Cal's expression is still grave but it somehow softens when Leslie speaks. "So she left right after the ride."
Cal grabs Leslie by the collar. "You let her go all by herself?" Leslie nods. Cal grunts. "What if something happens to her? How can you be so irresponsible?"
Leslie remains calm despite his friend's rage. "We'll go right now if you want. She can't be that far away. She'll be alright though, I promise."
"I can't lose her."
"I know."
Cal takes Leslie's hand. "We're leaving," he tells us. "I'm Cal Worthy, ask your boyfriend to follow me on Instagram."
Once they leave, Hope turns to me. "Boyfriend?"
***
The radio's playing the latest Black Veil Brides track but I'm not paying attention. We've been sitting in silence ever since we left the carnival. We're in a goddamn convertible but I'm feeling claustrophobic.
Hope's hand extends to his music system, lowering the volume. "Are you and Dorian Gray still a thing?"
How could I ever forget how stupid he is? My nonexistent crush on a fictional character is probably the only reason we haven't kissed yet. "We were never a thing, Hope. I told you."
He shakes his head as he takes a reckless turn. If the roads weren't as clear, we'd be dead by now. His driving tonight is worse than his mood. "But you still like him?"
I shrug. There's nothing to say. I've never felt more guilty about a lie.
"Say something," Hope demands. "You can't cheat on Dorian like that, he's a real fucking human."
Sure he is. "I didn't cheat on him!"
"Don't lie, Ivan." He's livid. The car nearly crashes against the tree that splits the road into two lanes. "I saw you kissing Cal."
My jaw clenches. That explains his reckless driving and why he's being so salty. My kiss with Cal could be the reason I end up dying in the middle of a street.
"First, I have to be with Dorian to actually cheat on him and second, I didn't kiss Cal."
"My brain has better things to imagine, if that's what you're implying."
I sigh. "I did kiss him but I wasn't kissing him." You're making a lot of sense, Ivan. Great going. "I was thinking of someone else when I-- when we..."
He calms down - I can see it in his eyes. The grey parts are coming in, mellowing the green of his eyes. "If you like Cal, you can just tell me. I don't know why you're hesitating."
I grit my teeth. "Cal and I kissed, yes. But both of us like different people. Just because both of us like guys doesn't mean we have to get together or something. We can be friends. And that's what we are."
"I thought Cal liked you." he chuckles despite himself. "And... he likes Leslie, doesn't he?"
"And F.K. He doesn't think either of them will like him back. Leslie's straight and F.K. 's probably aromantic. I kinda feel bad for him."
"And you like someone. Dorian? He hasn't come to visit you, or as far as I know, hasn't even called you. Do you guys even text? If I were you, I'd break up with him right away."
"He's not my boyfriend for me to break up with him."
He shrugs. "Either way, you've got terrible taste."
Now I can't deny that, can I?