“It’s the only thing,” Cal confirmed, his voice serious now.
Tate nodded. “Jesus, you two have been doing this for that long?”
Cal and I shared a look and a small laugh.
“Oh god no. He fucked me over seven years ago. I hated him, still kind of do, and when I went to his ass atFront Lines? That was real,” Cal confessed as he grabbed my hand. “But we worked through it. We got back together officially in January.”
Officially.
That word rang in my ears. I don’t think either of us had ever used it. Officially. Callum Kincaid and I were officially… Something.
“Okay look,” Tate said. “When Mark Murran was running the show, he didn’t give a damn. He never did. As long as you made this company money, he didn’t need to know the inner workings of his talent. But the people under Murran? The old vets in the locker rooms that swore kayfabe was sacred in a way it isn’t now, that thought keeping the predetermination of this industry secret was the most important part of their job description? Those guys were the ones that cared. And those old fucks went from locker room assholes to production assholes.”
Tate sighed, pacing a little.
“I know because I was in the locker room with them, and I moved to a production role like they did. Even though Murran didn’t care, he tried to reign that kind of bullshit behavior in, and normally he could, at least to a degree. But guys, we’re not living in a Mark Murran era anymore. This is Presley’s world, and honestly, I’m not sure what he’d do about it. But I have a bad feeling it wouldn’t be handled like his old man would have. The dirt sheets will be vicious, and the fans can be too, that is, if it gets out before you two can control the narrative.”
Tate looked to Cal. “Does anyone know?”
“Wilder does,” Cal said. “My family wouldn’t give a shit either. Hell, my mom will probably just ask why it took us so long.”
Tate nodded. “Good, that’s good, you’ve got some kind of support system there.” He turned to me. “Reed? What about your people?”
I hesitated. I thought about my dad, my uncle. How they were in that old school locker room. How I didn’t really know what they’d think, or how they’d take finding out their son, the one that was supposed to rewrite the Reed tragedy, was gay, and in love with the biggest name in professional wrestling today.
“I don’t know,” I admitted quietly. “I haven’t told them anything. You know I don’t have a great relationship with them.”
Tate looked sympathetic. I knew he probably recalled bits of my time on the road with my dad and uncle, even if he never admitted it. He was active on the roster back then, and I spent a hell of a lot of time around him when I was trying to hide from my high ass uncle and shit faced father.
“You need to get your circles tight,” Tate said firmly. “You need to make sure the people who matter know before the people who don’t find out. I can delete security footage for you guys, but I can’t delete rumors, unfortunately.”
He leaned forward, serious.
“And don’t worry, this doesn’t go past us. I’m not going to Presley, or anyone about this. You two are our best men, and I don’t agree with those high and mighty assholes who will attempt to undermine what you guys have done for this business just because you two ended up being more than just coworkers along the way.”
I looked to Cal, who I could tell was holding back tears. Relief washed over us both. The fear settled. We were safe, at least with Tate anyways.
“Here’s what I can do for you guys right now,” Tate said. “You two are supposed to take your week break beforeWrestle Empire. I’m going to put in a call to Harlow and tell him that after watching you both train yesterday, we need to send you guys out for it as soon as possible. That I could see the fatigue from you two busting your asses to get to what you need to be for the pay per view. You two are going to go along with it, because come the end ofShowdowntonight, he’s going to tell you guys to fly home for the week, and to return the Thursday beforeWrestle Empireweekend in Sacramento. I expect you both to go home, or to the fucking weird ass field the Reeds live on, and get your shit straight, are we clear?”
I stood from the couch and went up to Tate, hugging him, trying to keep my own tears in.
“Thank you,” is the only thing I could manage to say right now.
Cal stood as well and extended his hand to Tate, who pulled him in for a hug too.
“Don’t thank me. You guys are going to be good. Just please, keep it in hotels for now.”
27
APRIL - ORLANDO, FLORIDA
Now playing: Loving Someone - The 1975
“Wehavetotellher,” Cal blurted out.
We hadn’t spoken since we stepped out of Tate’s house, both too shocked, relieved, and likely terrified to do so. We had been caught. But thankfully, Tate wasn’t an asshole and let it slide, something neither of us expected.
The thought of telling anyone made my head spin. I wasn’t ashamed to be with Cal. I’d never been ashamed of that. I’d told Evan myself years ago and he didn’t even care. But telling more people? The task felt daunting. I wasn’t scared of not being accepted, I didn’t care if anyone accepted it; this wasn’t their relationship to weigh in on. But I was anxious about how this all could fuck with Cal’s career if we didn’t play it safe. I didn’t care about covering my ass, I never had, but I cared about covering Cal’s. I knew he felt like Lena was his. In a way, she really was like our kid. And yeah, Lena was gay herself, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t say anything to anyone else when she found out her two ‘dads’, one of whom she had created a fictional girlfriend for in her head, were actually fucking each other.
