And Mai? Is this even fair to her? If I were less selfish, I’d let her live her new, shiny life at Columbia without having to worry about her fuckup of a little brother.
But Dr. Denovo is persuasive. Part of me thinks he doesn’t know my parents like I do, but another part trusts him to be the expert in these types of situations. His only ulterior motive is to keep me the hell out of New Vistas, and that goal happens to align perfectly with my own.
I want to have faith in myself, but I’ve come to realize I can’t do this alone.
THEN
The after party was at Tish’s house. The guest list grew exponentially larger when Seth gave out her home address to the patrons of Corner Bar and insisted they all join us there for free beer and the screening of their new video.
“You can be the first ones to see it,” Seth promised them in a sultry voice. He still had the ability to make any everyday Joe feel extraordinary. Meanwhile the thought of all those strangers seeing that video made me nervous as hell.
At Tish’s house, the band was welcomed like royalty, which extended to me because Seth had always elevated me as part of their court. There was a wide range of guests in attendance—Petty Crime’s groupies, Hilliard High graduates, Mitchell’s work friends from Sunoco, Sabrina’s Libertarian bros, an assemblage of Hilliard band geeks, and a couple of my colleagues from the visual arts department who’d helped me with editing. There were some of Seth’s drug buddies present as well, which meant I’d need to keep a close eye on him, just in case he was tempted.
Seth wanted me by his side the entire night, not in a possessive way, but in one of shared camaraderie. He drank but not excessively. Just enough to have a goofy smile on his face when he couldn’t figure out how to get the video to project onto the screen they’d set up. I assisted him with that task, and he lavished me with affection to the point that I was red and stuttering and slowly backing away so that I didn’t pop a boner in front of the crowd.
The video played, and even if they didn’t like it, our audience definitely seemed captivated by it. Like viewing my own photographs in larger-than-life size, this was a similar experience, only it wasn’t just my artistry on display but my body and soul as well, since it wasn’t hard to guess who the “you” in the song was. It felt a lot more personal now than when I was filming or editing the footage on a computer and could put some distance between myself as the creator and the boy on the screen.
I tried to gauge the viewers’ reactions. Did they think I was crazy to put myself on display like that? Or starved for attention? Was I making a complete fool of myself as a person and an artist? Did I tell too much? And that didn’t even account for its technical imperfections.
I started spiraling then at this Pandora’s box I’d inadvertently opened when Seth laid his hand on my arm and said, “Stop.” I glanced over, and he gave me a reassuring look. “It’s an amazing work of art, Hiroku. It’s honest and real and beautiful. It’s the perfect expression of Petty Crime and what we’re trying to accomplish. You should be proud of yourself and what we’ve accomplished.”
The same feeling overcame me as when Seth had first seen my photography and told me I had a real talent, and in the many moments since then when he’d encouraged me in my art. He’d given me the confidence I needed to pursue my artistic vision, and this was the result. I was filled with gratitude.
“Thank you, Seth.”
People clapped. A few people whoop-whooped. A few others looked stunned. I supposed that was to be expected as well. Seth made an announcement that the band would be going on tour in a couple of months and invited everyone present to follow them around the country, Phish style. The crowd dispersed, and Seth came over and pulled me into a long, lazy kiss. I didn’t care if people were watching. I was already thinking about our private celebration at the end of the night.
“I meant what I said about the tour,” Seth told me. His nose brushed against mine, his forearms rested on my shoulders. His fingers were tangled in my hair, and I didn’t even mind that he was messing up my carefully coiffed hairdo.
“You’re going to have quite a following,” I said with my eyes closed, only half-listening because I was still in a fog of nerves and lust.
“I mean about coming with us. I want you on the tour, Hiroku.”
I blinked my eyes open to see if he was serious. His expression was open and trusting. He genuinely wanted me there with him, but the tour was four months long at least, nationwide, and it wasn’t scheduled to start until the end of summer.
My body stilled in his arms, an accidental response, but Seth noticed it nonetheless. “You have to come with us,” he said more urgently. “The band needs you.Ineed you.”
His voice had a note of desperation in it. Of course, I wanted to say yes. Like the times I skipped school or jumped off the cliff or took the stage wearing only metallic briefs, I wanted to join Seth in his adventures, travel the country and live it up like a rock star…
But.
“I have school, Seth. And my parents…”
His face fell, and the light in his eyes dimmed. He pulled away from me and conducted while he spoke. “Fuck Hilliard High. Fuck your parents, Hiroku. What have they ever done for you as an artist? If they saw this video you created—this magnificent piece of brutally honest work—do you think they would appreciate it? Or would they be ashamed? I mean, they don’t even know you. Not like I do. I’m your family. I’m the only person you need. I can make you into something special. I can give you anything you want.”
His voice rose in pitch as he made his argument. It had been so easy for Seth to quit school and to leave his mother’s home. He barely even said goodbye to her. But even though they didn’t always accept me, my parents still loved and cared for me. I couldn’t just…run away. And school was something I was good at. I still planned to go to college. I couldn’t give that up, even for Seth. I wanted to trust Seth would take care of me, but even sober, I couldn’t pin all of my hopes and dreams on him.
“I don’t know, Seth.”
He searched my soul. I’d never been able to hide anything from him, and this time was no different. It took only a few moments for him to grasp everything I wasn’t saying. I was doubting him. His belief in the two of us and what we could accomplish just wasn’t enough for me to gamble my future. Or my heart. Seth’s face crumpled.
“Please don’t be mad at me for this,” I begged.
“I’m not,” he said dispassionately. He wouldn’t look at me. “It’s cool. Don’t stress about it, Hiroku. I know it’s a crazy idea. Just… when I think about doing this without you…it doesn’t feel right.”
I reached for his hands and squeezed, then brought them to my lips.
“You won’t be alone, Seth. You’ll have the band. They’re your family too, aren’t they?”
