Sebastian waved his playbill, gesturing to the moving crowd. “Can’t. Curtain’s about to go up.”
“Stop being deliberately obtuse,” his mother cut in, her voice sharp.
“Me? Never,” he replied with exaggerated innocence.
“Just give me one hour.” He looked at me, then back at his son. “There are things we need to discuss.Importantthings.”
Sebastian let out a loud breath through his nose, dropping his playbill to his side. “Okay, fine. I’m going to Taylor’s game tomorrow in Brooklyn, but I can come to your hotel beforehand.”
“Tonight would be better,” he said, his tone indicating this wasn’t a request.
Sebastian looked to me for approval.
I nodded, silently letting him know that I supported whatever decision he made.
I’d planned to surprise him after the show with a detour to a speakeasy Bell had told me about, but figured we could do that anytime we were in Manhattan. Sebastian’s conversation with his parents—regardless of whattheymight want to say—was a long time coming.
“Fine. Yes.”
“We’re staying at?—”
The lobby lights flickered again, the final warning to take our seats. The lobby was nearly empty now, save for our small group and a few other stragglers.
“I know where you’re staying,” he said, cutting his mother off and moving toward the doors into the theater.
I followed, stopping briefly at the threshold to look back.
His parents stood exactly where we’d left them, only now they were turned toward one another, his father’s jaw set and his mother gesticulating wildly. Whatever she was saying, neither of them looked happy.
I turned back around and stepped into the dark.
Sebastian turnedhis coat collar up against the wind as we stepped out onto the wet street. “Well?”
“The Emcee was great,” I told him, pulling my beanie out of my pocket and pushing it down onto my head.
His mouth curved.“You just think he’s hot.”
I blew into my hands to keep them warm and fell into step beside him. “Well, duh. But also, he was pretty great.”
“And very hot,” Sebastian smirked.
“Yes, and very hot.”
It was nice being able to play like this, to tease one another, given what was waiting for Sebastian at the end of the cab ride uptown.
I didn’t know how he wasn’t freaking out.Iwas freaking out on his behalf.
I’d had a hard time getting into the show, my mind focused instead on the exchange beforehand. Admittedly, I didn’t know Sebastian’s parents, but I knew how he felt about them—how small they made him feel when he was with them—and I wasn’t sure he was in the best frame of mind for this visit.
Sebastian had tried to pretend Wyatt’s announcement and the subsequent invasion of his privacy hadn’t rattled him, and he’d mostly done a good job of it, but I knew him.I knew what it cost him to smile through Zoom calls with potential clients who hinted they were interested in working with him because of his ties to Wyatt.
Sebastian was a pro, so he handled it as well as could be expected.
But that was professional Sebastian. The mask. The persona. Sebastian, the man, was much softer than he let on, and at long last, he would be asked to explain the true nature of his relationship with Senator Wyatt Hastings.
He’d said he was done hiding, and for the most part, that was true. In every other aspect of his life, Sebastian had made good on that promise. But these were his parents—notorioushomophobes, supporters of far-right politicians, and people who had never once made him feel safe enough to be himself.
When push came to shove, would he stand up to them or would he deny who he was?
