Befriending Jay, Skyler, and Carlos in school was my saving grace. We were all musically inclined, and I started to focus my anger and pain into creating music with them. It started out as a hobby, something we could do after school and on the weekends.
When people started taking interest in us after we’d perform for talent shows, we started performing locally at any event that would take us. We quickly realized people loved us and wanted to hear our music. They’d ask when we would be performing again so they could show up. We knew we had the potential to be something, but we had no idea just how popular we’d eventually become.
My parents will never see me perform. They’ll never know I made it big and was able to see the world all before the age of thirty. Then again, if they hadn’t died, maybe I’d never have picked up a guitar to keep me from crying. Maybe I wouldn’t have spent so much time in the garage with my bandmates trying to make music, because I would have been with them instead.
It’s hard thinking about that. If my parents had lived, it’s possible I wouldn’t have the life I have now. But honestly, though I only have about six or seven years’ worth of memories with them, I’d choose them over this life in a heartbeat.
My brothers are amazing. They love and support me like crazy, but sometimes you want your mom and dad around for certain things.
While I wish they could see what I became, sometimes I wonder if it’s better that they can’t. Perhaps it’s best that they don’t know about things I’ve done or who I really am.
Would they be proud of my accomplishments? I have no doubt about it. But would they accept me if they knew I was gay? I don’t know. I don’t even know if I accept me. How can I when all I’ve done is lie to myself and the people closest to me?
My brothers don’t know. My bandmates don’t either. Only one person besides myself knows, and I’m pretty sure he hates me.
So, yes, I’m rich and famous. I have the life people dream about. But am I happy? Not really. Not completely.
This tour is coming to an end in a month. We’re finally going to be able to go home to our families or take a vacation to an island in the middle of nowhere. Sky’s doing the latter.
I’m going home. I’m gonna see my brothers, visit some old friends, and try to get the guy who knows my deepest and darkest secret to forgive me.
I’ve been in the tabloids and splashed across internet articles with a different woman in every city. Why? Because that’s what you want the world to see when you’re living a lie. You show everyone what you’re not.
I’m a liar, and I don’t know how I’ll begin to set things straight. No pun intended. I want to live life honestly. I want to be myself one hundred percent, because it’s extremely hard to be happy when you’re constantly putting on a front for people. But it’s become second nature to be what everyone expects me to be, that I’m not entirely sure who I am.
Going back home will be good for me. However, every time I think about coming clean to everyone, I think about how I risk jeopardizing not only my career, but the career of my bandmates if I come out.
“Hey, man. You ready to go on? We’re up in seven,” Sky tells me, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He grins, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “I got four girls ready to meet us after the show. Dude, I’m telling you these girls are fucking hot! Their bodies.” His eyes bulge. “Even hotter than the girls in London. These Parisian girls are no joke.”
I force a smile. “Okay, cool. Let’s get the show started, so we can hurry and be done.”
He slaps my shoulder as I walk by, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about. I’ll even let you pick first.”
Skyler’s insatiable. I may be photographed with women in every city, but he’s definitely banging one. . .or two in every city. Hell, maybe more. I don’t know. I just throw condoms at him and hope he’s using them.
I’m not saying I haven’t slept with any women. I’d be an even bigger liar if I said that, because I’ve done it. Lord knows I’ve tried to enjoy myself, too. I drink enough to loosen up and then I go for it.
Sometimes it’s just a blowjob. Sometimes it’s sex. There’s been a lot of making out and a lot of touching, but there’s never been passion. There’s never been lust.
Not since Ali.
Alejandro Barrera.
He was my friend in school, and my sexual awakening happened with him. We haven’t seen each other in years. He came to our performance in King’s Tavern—my brother, Royce’s bar, and then I was able to get him to visit me at my brother Elijah’s house when we had a going away party before the band departed to New York right before our first album came out.
Things were weird between us then, but I’d take weird over radio silence in a second. He’s been ignoring me for ages, and I need to find him and tell him how sorry I am. I just don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me.
Would you forgive someone who lied to you and kept things from you? I sure as fuck wouldn’t, but I’m hoping Ali is a better person than I am.
3
Alejandro
Present Day
“Who ordered the Toucan Sam?” the waiter asks the table.
“I did,” Jordy says, raising his hand.
“What the hell is a Toucan Sam, anyway?” I ask, drinking my beer.
“It’s Gin, pineapple juice, simple syrup, and maybe something else. And Froot Loops, of course,” he answers, grabbing a
