“Yes, I promise.”
I didn’t even hesitate. Even when we argued or fought, I never thought of leaving him because I loved him, and even in his most infuriating moments, I understood him. He was a part of me as I was a part of him.
I thought it was our argument that had brought on Seth’s sudden bout of insecurity, but looking back, I realize now it was something else altogether.
NOW
There’s a theme that comes up a lot in group therapy. It’s never explicitly stated, but it’s something we all have in common:
Betrayal.
Ryan was betrayed by his mother’s pervy boyfriend when he was a little kid. Sonora was betrayed by her older sister who was always putting her down and calling her names until her self-esteem was such shit that she’d seek affection anywhere she could find it. Felix was betrayed by a cousin and then later, by some gang members who beat him up and left him for dead.
I was betrayed by Seth.
It’s like a daisy chain of hurt and anger because then we go on to betray someone else. It’s hard to avoid when you have a drug addiction, so all-consuming is that desire to get high. Other people’s feelings just don’t have the same importance.
In group that’s all we ever talk about—what was done to us, whattheyruined, how we were left to pick up the pieces. So many of our stories begin with betrayal, but we don’t talk about the choices we made that got us to where we are now. That material belongs in our one-on-ones.
It would be so much easier if we could all be blameless in our addictions. But if that were the case, then we’d have no power to stop it from happening again.
To have the strength to say no. What an awesome and terrifying responsibility.
THEN
Petty Crime started getting gigs. Dean had some connections through a couple of the previous bands he’d been in, and when the band agreed they were ready to play out, Dean made some calls. Sabrina kept the calendar. Because of school, they could only accept gigs on weekends, and even that was a stretch for Sabrina’s parents. Only a couple of months into being a band, Seth had convinced Sabrina to try and graduate a year early in order to devote more time to Petty Crime. I wasn’t the only person susceptible to his powers of persuasion.
The story I told my own parents was that Sabrina and I were getting into spoken word and going to coffee shops where they had open mic nights. I tried to stay as close to the truth as possible. It made me feel a little less guilty about lying to them all of the time.
According to Seth’s specific instructions, I’d found a local silk screener to avoid feeding our corporate overlords, and we had T-shirts made with the design of Petty Crime graffitied across a brick wall. It was my attempt to pay homage to one of Seth’s favorite albums, Pink Floyd’sThe Wall. Jeannie and I worked the merch table at their first show, but as cute as we were, the club’s patrons weren’t exactly lining up for T-shirts for an unknown band, which left Jeannie and me with plenty of time to take breaks, during which Jeannie vaped, and I admired my sexy boyfriend on stage.
During their shows Seth always looked for me in the crowd. Sure, he spread his attention around, but when his eyes found mine, we dialed in, and his words took on a new meaning. It probably didn’t hurt that I’d helped write some of their lyrics and inspired a few of his melodies, so in that way, they truly were our own artistic spawn.
One night in particular, Seth was really feeling the crowd. It wasn’t a big venue—just a one-room pool lounge slash quasi-gay bar called Eileen’s that was sandwiched between a tattoo parlor and a Tex-Mex restaurant, but the bar was packed, and Seth had cast a kind of spell over the crowd so that even those who might not normally be into their music had taken a break from whatever else they were doing—playing pool or shooting the shit—to watch their performance.
They were about to launch into another song when Seth motioned the band to take a break. “Before we continue, I’d like to ask all of you to help me sing a special song to a pretty little bird I love dearly. He’s here tonight and has been with me since the beginning of Petty Crime. I hope he’ll be with me until the end. It’s a song you’ve all heard before, so I’m counting on you to get the words right and not fuck it up for me.”
We made eye contact across the darkened room. Seth’s mouth quirked on one side, which meant some mischief was afoot. Then Seth launched into the “Happy Birthday” song while motioning me up to the stage. Jeannie gave me a nudge in that direction. When I got there, Seth bestowed upon me a cardboard crown, spray painted gold and bedazzled with all number of semi-precious plastic rhinestones that spelled out Birthday Boy. Sabrina pulled a sheet cake from somewhere behind her drum kit, already lit with candles.
“Sweet sixteen,” Seth told the audience. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
When I glanced up from the cake, Seth was looking at me with such affection and sorrow that I felt a little sad without knowing why. He told me to make a wish, so I wished for the continued success of Petty Crime because I wanted all of Seth’s dreams to come true. Once I’d blown out all of the candles, Seth swiped a fingerful of icing and held it up to my face. Even though I was hot with embarrassment, first at being sung to, then being brought on stage, I figured I had little dignity left to lose. I licked the icing from Seth’s finger, and he grinned wickedly, then pulled me in for a long, passionate kiss.
The crowd ate it up.
“There,” he announced to the audience. “Now, he’s had his first kiss.” He patted my ass, and I took that to mean I could retreat back to my merchandise table, where Jeannie had taken the cake and was slicing it up and passing it out to friends and patrons alike. Their second set was even better than the first, perhaps because the audience was fully invested, and most of us were still riding a sugar high. We sold out of Petty Crime shirts, all except for the one I was wearing, which after that night became my favorite T-shirt.
After the show, when the equipment was all packed up, we went to 24-Hour Diner and pigged out on greasy breakfast food. They gave me presents. Sasha and Caleb’s gift was a certificate for a free piercing with Happy—just his business card withCome see about mescrawled across the back. Sabrina’s gift was an expensive photo book of these kids who rode the rails across the country. Jeannie told me she’d cut (and dye) my hair for me. Mitchell gave me a jump drive with every song we’d ever listened to during his and Seth’s informal history of rock ‘n’ roll class, as well as ones we’d not yet heard. Seth gave me a black bomber jacket with the silhouette of a cowboy on the back that I’d once admired at a thrift store. Mai was going to be so jealous.
“I’ll give you your other present later,” Seth said with a pirate’s smile. “But maybe you can let me borrow this swell jacket sometime.”
Everyone was laughing and joking around, still riding the high from their kick-ass performance. Seth was subtly feeling me up under the table, teasing me with what was in store for later since I’d convinced my parents to let me stay the night “at Sabrina’s.” I laughed so hard that night my cheeks hurt.
“Thanks, you guys,” I told them as we were nearing the end of the night. “You’re the best crew a guy could have.” They smothered me with hugs and kisses and sang me “Happy Birthday” again just to be obnoxious and make me blush.
Mitchell drove Seth and me home with the windows down and the cool night air in our faces. Then, later in his bedroom, Seth made me come hands-free for the first time. We slept in each other’s arms the whole night through, and Seth woke me up the next morning with breakfast in bed and a blow job.
Best. Birthday. Ever.
