Theo smiles again and we chat for a bit longer, and then just sit together a bit longer still. Like Perrin and Bishop before him, Theo has come into his own place with my family. But, sometimes, he just comes and sits beside me at these big events. I think he needs a bit of a big family time-out now and then. Perrin did too, back when he and Jack first got together.
After he leaves, I scroll my phone. A few notifications popped up, that I had ignored, but Nix set me up with an alert when people post about the movie and the album.
This isn’t the album though, this is a story fromVIP. I almost don’t click it.VIPlikes to put me at the top of their lists for things like “sexiest guy in Colorado” or “most eligible bachelor.” I don’t know theVIPpeople or why I’m even on their radar, except for the songwriting. Their portrait of me as some kind of brooding artist isn’t exactly accurate. Not only that, but Jack is more out front with the Mann family name, but they rarely feature him. Quinn is more charismatic and charming. Matt is more famous, really, with his social media presence with Theo and their cooking and baking videos.
All of them look better in a tux than I do.
Maybe because I’m the only unattached one? I don’t know.
The story isn’t about me, at all, once I click on it. Instead, there is a picture of Cas, looking like a guy who just got caught doing something he shouldn’t be and is proud of it, and a young, slender guy right next to him. Cas’s hands are out like he had been all over the pretty guy and the guy looks rumpled enough to suggest sexy shenanigans.
“Caswell Vaughn gets handsy at Marshall Torro release party!” The headline so helpfully tells me in a big cheery font.
The article, other than the picture, is scant on details. It talks about Cas’s successful tour ending and that he is working on his first feature film role as River Phoenix in a biopic. These are facts the world knows by now.
The article does mention Cas and I are collaborating, even going as far as to call me Steven, the name I write under, which the article titles “Baylor Mann’s songwriting persona” followed by a link to other stories about me.
I huff. This party was in LA.VIPdoes cover the west coast, but it is located here in Colorado. I can’t believe a few sentences mentioning me are enough to get them interested in the story, but whatever. My songwriting career is the worst-kept secret in Bear Valley or anywhere else.
The article mentions the young man, Gray, and Cas being“extremely affectionate”by an unnamed party goer. Not only that, but another unnamed attendee mentioned that,“Caswell Vaughn is no stranger to these kinds of parties, and he always has a pretty guy on his arm.”Which is true enough. I’ve followed enough gossip to know that given the chance, Cas’s type definitely isn’t me. The second unnamed person at the party went on to say the line that sticks me right in the heart.“I don’t know Cas, but I would definitely say there is something different about Gray. I’ve never seen him like this with someone. There is no way this is their first date. They are clearly an item.”
Everything inside my body just freezes into a tight knot. Of course, I was misreading things with Cas. Of course, he has some pretty guy waiting on him back home.
I wonder how they keep up while Cas is in Bear Valley. Do they video chat? Quinn once let it slip that video chats were a big part of he and Bish staying close when Bishop still lived in Denver. Given the look on Bish’s face, I took it to mean some kind of sexy times went down in those videos.
Is that what Cas is doing upstairs while I lie in my bed thinking about him?
That thought makes me feel. . .awful, actually. As much as I hate the pining I have done over Cas and the inability to move on, it never made me feel bad about myself. It was just part of who I was.
But, this picture? With a guy so very different from me obviously getting Cas’s affection? This makes me feel small and sad.
And kind of like a joke.
I leave family dinner early, and I don’t even try to make an excuse.
I’m still irritated the next day, before I even get out of bed. Lucky for me, I have plenty of work I can drown myself in, plus I have a gig tonight I should be focused on. A bad show at Black Diamond affects Quinn.
Of course, having someone in my home has thrown off my careful routine. That includes laundry. I’m further irritated by the fact that Cas’s clothes and mine are all mingled together as I try to start a load before I am out the door, so at least something is back on schedule.
I’m going to be a control freak about laundry as the rest of my life spins out.
I grab a shirt of his and add it to the pile, and then I snatch it back.
The next thing I know, I’m sitting on my ass with my face buried in his shirt, like the scent of him is some kind of balm.
My heart just. . .cracks open a bit, a deep Mariana Trench of the soul. I don’t care that tears are streaming down my face as I rock back and forth with his shirt clutched tight.
I did everything right. I made the right choice for me all those years ago, one I don’t regret. I had no idea how in love I was with Cas. None at all. I just chose the life I wanted, never thinking it meant one without someone to love. One without Cas. We were going to be friends! The best of friends. And if we had, then maybe when I figured out how I truly felt about him, there could have been something to salvage.
But, still, why does the right choice have to feel like this? I should have done something different even though we made the right choice — just look at the Platinum-lined success.
I would not have been a good rockstar, not like he is. I would have held him back if we stayed as a duo.
And yet. Here I sit, thirteen years later crying so hard my stomach clenches at just the scent of him.
I feel my body rock into the sobs. How can something hurt this badly after all these years? Time was supposed to heal everything.
That’s the promise. Shit hurts now, but that pain was supposed to ease. It is supposed to get easier. Time heals all the fucking wounds.
