Epilogue
Gray
One year later…
“How the helldid you end up in Scotland?” Dee asked. “It took me two planes and a six-hour ferry ride to get to this island!” She had several large bags and one cardboard box at her feet, and she looked a little frazzled from the days of travel.
“It’s called Eilean Bharraigh,” Jameson explained, pronouncing the words slowly to get them right.
“JustBarraworks, too,” Gray added, grabbing Dee’s bags. “I can’t remember how we ended up here in the first place, though.”
“I wanted to see a castle!” Jameson said brightly.
They were standing at the port where Dee had been dropped off. A cool, early summer breeze was coming in off the ocean, and the smell of fish was in the air. Behind them, rocky hillsides caressed the beach, and in the distance, small secluded islands dotted the water.
Gray and Jameson had arrived at the island a few months earlier, after a world tour that took them around New Zealand and through Thailand, as well as a long stopover at Hahajima Island in Japan. For the longest time, they weren’t looking for anything specific, just peace and quiet and plenty of time alone together. One evening, after drinking a little too much sake, they had decided Scottish castles were the next destination. Gray hadn’t expected to stick around the island long, but then they’d arrived at the cottage they were renting and realized that no one in the small village recognized Jameson, even without a scarf. Once the wildflowers started blooming, they had decided to stick around for an extended stay.
“You hungry?” Gray asked. “Today’s catch is in, if you like fish.”
Dee patted her stomach. She was wearing a casual purple jumpsuit, and her oversize necklace swung from side to side. “They filled me up on the ferry.”
“To the cottage then!” Jameson said brightly. His cheeks shimmered, and his arched eyebrows perfectly complimented his soft white eyeshadow. “We can practice pronouncing the Scottish Gaelic words on all the road signs while we drive.”
After enjoying luxury travel for the first few months, Gray and Jameson learned in Scotland that lowkey tourism was more their style. It took Gray a second to start up the old beater of a truck they’d purchased on the island, but once they started driving north on the rocky road to their cabin, he relaxed into the beautiful drive. Jameson and Dee excitedly shared stories, chatting over each other and pointing at the landscape while they passed.
It felt good to have a visitor. Jameson had surprised Gray by flying Raiden, Horatio, Declan, and Seb out for a luxury winter weekend outside of Auckland, but since then, they’d largely been alone. They had made the occasional friend and gone on a few side adventures with locals who had no clue Jameson was an international superstar. But Jameson came alive with his old friend in a way that delighted Gray, and having Dee around brought him as much happiness as it brought his boyfriend.
After a slow, winding drive, they arrived at the cabin, rented under one of the false names Seb had given them. It wasn’t fancy, just a small bungalow with a little hot tub out back. But built into the hillside and overlooking rocky cliffs and the crashing ocean down below, it also gave one of the most spectacular views he’d ever seen.
“Holy shit,” Dee said, stepping out into the afternoon light. “This is fucking gorgeous, you guys!”
Jameson squinted and pointed to a distant hillside. “The nearest neighbor is on the other side of that hill,” he said. “She’s eighty years old, and she’s never heard ofBroken DragonorWest Town.”
“Mrs. Bagby is our new best friend,” Gray added. “We play cards with her once a week.”
“She beats Gray at poker,” Jameson laughed warmly. “Every time!”
Gray helped carry the bags up to the cottage, and when they opened the door, Pickles came charging out. She barked excitedly at Gray and Dee, running circles around them for a minute before she finally collapsed at Jameson’s feet for some pets. Jameson ran around, showing off the cool old features in cottage and then throwing open the back door to let the cool, crisp air in from the beach. While Jameson did the tour, Gray cut up some cheese to serve with crackers and opened up a bottle of hard cider he had purchased in town the week before.
The year travelling with Jameson had been a dream, and definitely some of the happiest days of his life. They’d gotten to know each other in new and deeper ways. Long evenings alone together meant that Gray and Jameson had learned each other’s stories intimately, and Gray could summon Jameson’s memories of small-town Kansas and glitzy Los Angeles television sets as easily as he could remember his own childhood. They had started to complete each other’s sentences and to cook together in the evening with perfect, unspoken coordination.
Without that time alone, that time to explore, Gray imagined that it would have taken him years to learn as much as he had about Jameson. But with sea eagles swooping through the sky, Gray felt as secure in his relationship as he had ever felt about something in his life.
Secure enough, in fact, to start planning the first trip home. And definitely, Gray was ready to see his family again.
There was a lull in the conversation, and Jameson leaned forward, resting his hands on the small wooden table. “Did you bring it?” he asked Dee.
Dee stuck her hands on her hips. “Oh yeah,” she said. “I brought it.”
“The musical equipment?” Gray asked excitedly.
Jameson and Dee exchanged a look, which he had trouble reading. More evenings than not, Jameson had sung him a few songs, serenading Gray with the voice of an angel while they took a bath together or walked by the sea in the evening.
And he always gave Jameson a special treat afterward, too, just to show his appreciation. Gray had a strict rule with himself that he always tried to show Jameson just as much love as Jameson showed him.
But Gray couldn’t play an instrument, and while he loved belting his head off like a madman and playing the air drums, he couldn’t really carry a proper tune, either. Dee, on the other hand, could give Jameson the kind of duet he really needed. And after a year on the road, with plenty of time to fool around with the little keyboard he had purchased in Tokyo, he had jotted down plenty of new songs.
“Sure,” Dee said, still holding Jameson’s eye with that weird expression. “Should we play around with the equipment?”
