“Quen—”
“Shut up,” Henri said. Then, “Sorry, that was aggressive. Quentin, buddy, are you okay?”
Quentin blinked. “I think I’m in shock.” Then, all his feelings came rushing back to him, solidifying into a terrible bar of anger. “Where’s my phone?”
“In your pocket, hon’,” Henri said gently.
Quentin fumbled with his phone. “I need to talk to Joel.”
Joel was sitting in the conference room in Shivonne’s office, staring unblinking at the table, his knee bouncing, when his phone rang. He seized it and answered immediately.
“Quentin!” he cried. “Are you okay?”
There was a moment of silence, and then Quentin said, “I’m pretty pissed at the world, but I’m okay. How are you doing?”
“I’d also say I’m pissed, but I’m doing better now that I hear your voice.”
He heard a smile in Quentin’s words. “I love you,” Quentin whispered.
Joel lowered his head until it rested against the table’s surface. “I love you, too.”
“How do we want to do this?”
Joel bit his lip. “I think I have an idea.”
Chapter 21
Joel & Quentin
The last moments before a show always felt like a spiritual experience for Joel. In those moments, he could ignore the roar of the crowds and fans, he could tune out anything Braun was trying to say to him, he could forget all his worries from life offstage, and he could focus solely on one of his greatest loves: singing and performing the songs that he had written, and which meant the world to him. Singing was how he shared his love with the world.
That night, in San Diego, he was ready to share a new version of that love.
He wore his typical costume for the opening number, chest bared and jumpsuit glittering. He would perform the first set of the tour as normal, and then this show would take a short diversion. Instead of going right into the next set, he was going to do a short acoustic set. He normally saved his acoustic sets for later in the show. It had taken Shivonne threatening Braun with an investigation into his offshore bank accounts for him to agree to the change, but he’d finally relented.
Joel took a deep breath as he prepared to go onstage.
The last few days had been a blur.
He and Quentin had released a short joint statement the day that the news of their relationship broke:We have seen the stories this morning about our rumored relationship. It is with great joy and pride that we want to announce that we are dating. We ask that our privacy be respected in this matter.
A small group of homophobic “fans” had tried to protest outside of Quentin’s last hockey game, and they’d been quickly removed by security. Messages, posts, and articles were still flooding the Internet, and now people were releasing think pieces and editorials about it. It was overwhelming and frustrating. Everyone thought they were entitled to an opinion. Even those with good intentions didn’t realize their interest in the matter, and the comments they made about it were a gross invasion of Joel and Quentin’s privacy. Joel was ready to say something.
The explicit images generated by artificial intelligence had been quickly debunked, and Joel and Quentin were both suing the man who’d generated the images for six million dollars, which they planned on donating to various charities for mental health and LGBTQ+ youth. They still didn’t know who had initially leaked the story, but Shivonne was working overtime to figure it out.
Backstage, Braun nodded at Joel, and he walked out onto the San Diego stage.
Quentin was in a private box in the San Diego stadium with Henri, Cort, Shivonne, Billy, and Ariadne Lake, watching the crowd roar as Joel appeared onstage and immediately started the first set of his tour. Quentin’s pulse was hammering. He was sure his blood pressure hadn’t dropped to normal levels once in the past week. It had been nonstop damage control. He was angry at the world for invading his privacy, and knew that after the Playoffs were over, he’d need to do some serious thinking about what was next for him professionally.
Joel’s performance in the first set was as magnificent as always. The concert was sold out. Resale tickets had been going at an astronomical price. Ever since the relationship leak, Joel’s popularity (or, at least, his infamy) had soared as people wanted to see how, or if, he’d address it in his few remaining concerts before the break in his tour.
Quentin was proud of how Joel had decided to address it. Quentin, the other day, released a personal statement on his social media sharing that he identified as queer, and that he would appreciate his privacy to be respected, as always. He called for his fans, and for all fans of all public figures, to show some class and some decency when discussing the private lives of celebrities. He was maybe a little harsh in his statement, but he didn’t care. He was feeling harsh about it all. Since he’d released his statement, Henri, Drew Moreau, and Sebastiaan Koning had all released statements in support of him, and Koning had even reached out to Quentin personally.
Onstage, Joel finished his first set. Normally, when that first set of songs finished, he left the stage to change costumes. Now, though, one of his dancers brought him a keyboard and another brought him a standing microphone, and then his team left the stage.
Quentin smiled. Joel hadn’t let him hear this song yet, but he had told him that Quentin had inspired it.
Joel calmed his breathing and smiled at the crowd.
