Colin blew out a sleepy breath and sat up. “Where’s the lord of the dance? Is he still asleep?”
“He’s in the shower.”
Colin snatched the pamphlet from Nate’s hand. “This had better be good.”
“Just read.”
Colin rubbed his eyes with one hand while squinting at the pamphlet. “Voices of PRIDE,” he read. “Open mic night featuring LGBTQ+ artists who will…” His voice trailed off, and he read for several moments in silence, then handed the pamphlet back to Nate. “Is thatit? Can I go back to sleep now?”
“No! Get up! We’re going to breakfast, and then we’re signing you up for this.”
“Why?”
“So you can sing, of course!”
“And what if I don’twantto sing?”
Joshua lurched to their small living room area and collapsed onto the couch. “Youalwayswant to sing,” he mumbled.
“Actually, I don’t,” Colin replied, then pulled the sheet over his head. “Josh!” he whimpered. “Make him go away!”
“Does he meanme?” Nate asked, then yanked the sheet down.
“Please, stop yelling,” Joshua said. “I have a massive headache.Youmake him go away!”
“Josh, c’mon, man. If you love me, you’ll save me!”
“Hey! You’re not the only one who’s hungover, you know! And Idolove you, my darling. But did you nothearme about my headache?”
“Get up!” Nate ordered.
Colin glared at him, then turned to his husband, who was still lying on the couch. “Coffee!”
“Is that an order?”
“It’s a heartfelt plea.”
Joshua got up and poured coffee for himself and Colin. “You want some?” he asked Nate.
“I had some. I want him to get dressed so we can go to breakfast and then sign him up for the open mic.”
Colin took a long swallow of coffee and sighed. “Nate, can I at least take a shower first? As hungover as I am, and as bad as I smell from last night’s blowout, they’d neverletme sign up!”
“You know it’s not just singers,” Joshua said, perusing the pamphlet while sipping his coffee. “They want people to tell stories. Talk about their life. Their experiences as a gay person in today’s society.” He lowered the pamphlet. “So, you should sign uptoo,Nathanial.”
“Who’d want to hearmystory?” Nate asked.
“You’re a gay man who was a Hollywood producer for almost a decade. Don’t tell me you don’t have stories.”
Colin shoved Nate to one side and crawled out of bed, doing his best not to spill his coffee. “Yeah. C’mon, Nate! Fess up. You must have donesomethingin la-la land that would interest these people.” He nudged Nate’s shoulder. “Especially given the fact that most of them are passengers on this ship and that alotof them are either still drunk or massively hungover.”
Nate stared down at the floor for a moment. “Well,” he said, at last, his voice subdued. “I did work with an LGBTQ+ group from USC to produce a film calledBehind the Reel. We did extensive work with a gay producer, a gay director, and one lesbian writer, chronicling their experiences and contributions.”
“Ah,HA!” Colin crowed, pointing at him. “See? That’s it, Natey-baby!” He cackled like a madman and wandered to the bathroom, his coffee mug clutched in his hand. Ten seconds later he emerged and held out his hand to Joshua.
“What’sthis?”
“Aspirin.” He turned and pointed at Nate. “You’re signing up, too!” Then he strode back into the bathroom.
