Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Someday…maybe soon…”
“No.” If I accepted someday, I would keep accepting it. “I can’t. You’re not the only gay musician in the world.”
“I know that. I’m not stupid. I just…I’ve never had shit. Not in my whole fucking life. I was poor and shy and didn’t have friends. I was teased. All I had was music, and I’m scared to fucking death of losing that. I wasn’t supposed to have my dreams come true. I wasn’t supposed to be anyone, but I suddenly am, and now you’re asking me to cut myself open and show people all those parts of me that will make me that same boy I was before. You’re asking me to go against my manager and my label and the vast majority of my fan base.”
No…I wasn’t. I just wanted to be as important as those other things, but I had my answer.
I got it. Those feelings of fear and insecurity had deep roots, they were part of who Remy was, and I’d always known that. I couldn’t pretend there hadn’t been rumors going around about his sexuality over the years, and it hadn’t been good. Still, this fucking hurt, and I was angry, so damn angry. My hands fisted, and I waited. He looked away from me, which pissed me off more, that he couldn’t look me in the eyes as we walked away from something we’d shared for five fucking years.
“I guess you made your choice, then,” I said. He still didn’t look at me as I gathered my clothes, didn’t speak to me as I got dressed.
When I was finished, I walked over to him and kissed the top of his head. “Goodbye, Remy.”
As I turned to walk away, he reached out, grabbed my wrist, and held on tightly. “How do I do this without you?”
“You’re stronger than you think. You always have been.” I pulled my hand free, made it a couple of steps, stopped. “I love you because of your love of music. Because you’re strong yet vulnerable, and you show all those pieces to me. It’s what got me from the start—seeing you lose yourself in your music, then the walls close when you were finished, and then opening them for me. I knew from the beginning that you were giving me something you didn’t give anyone else. I love your shy, cute smile and the way you come apart for me. I love your dumb jokes, because they feel like a silly part of you that you don’t let out often enough. I love that you notice that I give money to homeless people and that you give so much to your family, even if I don’t feel they always deserve it. I love that you write lyrics on sheets and pillowcases, then pay the hotel for them when you take them. I love that you’re funny, even though you don’t see it. You’re more than you know, Rem.”
Then…then I walked away.
He didn’t stop me.
A week later, his guitar showed up at my place in Charlottesville. It was the one he’d been playing on when we met. I thought it was a sign, but he never came out, never contacted me.
I went a little wild after that. I was with a different person every night. I partied. Then Sara and I started dating, and we were all over social media together. I wondered if he saw, if he cared. I would never know if he did.
He was Remington, and his popularity continued to grow. He had his music. He didn’t need me.
And we hadn’t spoken since.
CHAPTER FIVE
Remington
I knew I wasn’t quite like other people. When Law walked away earlier that day, part of me wanted to pack up and leave town. It was all too much, people were sometimes too much, and wouldn’t it all be easier if I just focused on my music?
But I couldn’t. Not this time.
The six years since I’d last been with him hadn’t been easy on me. It was my own damn fault. I wasn’t so far in my head that I didn’t know that. I’d walked away from Law before, but I wouldn’t do it again.
So I got my shit together. I showered and changed and scribbled down the random words and sentences in my head. Those weren’t for him. I didn’t know what they were for, but shit like that just came to me sometimes, and I had to let it out. If not, I would be full of words I never set free.
Then I walked my ass down the lane to his house. I had no clue if it was the right thing to do or not. He’d said he couldn’t do this right now, and maybe I was supposed to give him more time, maybe I was supposed to let him come to me, but I was so damn tired of waiting for things to change, waiting for life to come to me.