Well, shit.He’s surprised she asked it so bluntly, that she thinks they have the kind of relationship where it’s okay for her to ask that at all.
Maybe they do. She knows more about his personal life than most people, he supposes.
“We are.”
“That’s great, I’m happy for you,” she says, and despite the brevity of the sentiment, it sounds like she means it. “So do you want to come out publicly?”
Trevor’s heart falls into his ass. “What?Of course not!”
“I’m only checking. Please don’t bite my head off.”
“Sorry. But no. Nothing’s changed on my end with that.”
Nope. He’s still a big fat fucking coward.
Skyler comes in during the conversation with a pile of folded clothes, and Trevor gets distracted watching him bend down to put them away in the dresser, so he’s only half listening when Courtney says she set up an interview for him.
“I know you said no originally, but I figured since you’re already in New York, you might change your mind. It’s certainly not meant for you to come out, only to keep you fresh in people’s minds. And typically, it would be to promote something new, but since no one’s seen your face on TV in years, they’re happy to simply have you there and catch up with you. If you really don’t want to do it, we can cancel. I told them it was tentative.”
“Wait, what? But I don’t even have anything to catch people up on.”
Another loud sigh. “There’s still plenty of interest to talk to you after Skyler’s interview. I think it would be foolish to waste this opportunity. Why don’t you talk it over with Skyler and get back to me.”
“Yeah,” he says to get her off the phone. “Fine.”
“Trevor, I’m serious. My job is to handle the publicity for your career, so it would be nice if you, well,hada career.”
Ouch.
Skyler, who’s come over to sit beside him on the edge of the bed now, raises a concerned eyebrow. Trevor puts a hand on Skyler’s leg, squeezing once to let him know he’s okay, even though he might not be.
“Hey,” Courtney says gently in his ear. “I’m sorry. I understand what you’ve been going through in the last five years. I do. But I need to know if you still want a career in music. Because if you don’t plan on ever singing again and you’re going to ignore every media mention of your name, then you don’t need me, do you? And honestly, I feel bad that you’re paying me when I’m not doing any work. The most I’ve done in years is field these recent calls for you, and this interestwillgo away if you decide not to do anything about it.”
He finds himself holding his breath during her little speech. Everything she’s saying may be true, but that doesn’t mean he’s particularly comfortable hearing it.
“I think it’s time you make a decision,” she continues. “Don’t let your avoidance decide for you. You need to decide if you want to keep going with music or if you’re done for good. So promise me you’ll talk to Skyler, because I’m sure you care more about his opinion than you do mine.”
“All right,” he manages to say, glancing at Skyler. “I promise I’ll talk to him.”
With that, she lets him go, saying she’ll call back tomorrow. Which sounds like a deadline.
He tosses his phone to the bed and flops onto his back. Skyler’s in his space immediately, lying on his side next to him, smelling like soap and peaches and everything lovely and Skyler. Trevor wants to kiss him. Wants to use Skyler’s lips to make him forget about the world outside of this apartment. But he’s afraid Courtney is right—his time for forgetting and ignoring might be up.
“What are you supposed to talk to me about?” Skyler asks, tracing a finger delicately over Trevor’s collarbone through his thin T-shirt.
Trevor arches into the touch and sighs. He explains that his publicist set up an interview for him with a talk show in the city. Tells him how she thinks Trevor can rebuild his music career if he wants to. And Skyler encourages him to do the interview, says it doesn’t have to mean anything definite but it’s a good idea in case he does decide he wants to do music again.
Sitting up, Trevor angles himself toward Skyler and tucks one foot underneath his thigh. The idea of saying he wants to make music again is terrifying. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind, a nagging voice tells him that the idea of saying hewon’tmake it anymore is even more terrifying.
He’s comfortable with his semi-regular life, but more and more lately, he’s felt a tiny, persistent itch that maybe only writing and singing his own songs will scratch. The more time he spends around Skyler, watching him play and work on new material, the more he wants to reach for a guitar himself. But it’s not that simple.
“I’m sure not that many people even want to hear me anymore,” he says, avoiding Skyler’s imploring gaze.
Skyler rushes to sit up and takes Trevor’s face in both hands, turning it so their eyes meet. “That isnottrue.”
Before he can argue, Skyler lets him go and is twisting around, leaning away to grab his phone from the nightstand. He types something in and scrolls for a minute before handing it to him.
“You still check out Boys Will Be Boys forums?” Trevor asks, confused and a bit amused. Or at least, he would be amused if he wasn’t so stressed.
