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Hiroku by Laura Lascarso (9)


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’s The 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 with Come see about me scrawled 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.

 

 

 

 

Spring break came, and Mai and my dad were taking a trip to Columbia to check out housing options for the fall. My sister had been accepted to her first choice in schools, and both my parents were focused on getting her through the home stretch. All three of them were looking toward Mai’s bright and shining future, which meant their heads were turned away from my quiet rebellion, leaving me more or less to my own devices.

My mom went to bed early, so I snuck out every night. Some nights we partied at Caleb’s apartment—I got drunk for the first, second, and third times. And some nights Seth and I just stayed in at his house and watched movies or screwed until our bodies were like plasma. One night I fell asleep and didn’t get home in time, so I had to pretend that I’d been out for a morning bike ride, huffing and puffing in my smoke-scented, beer-stained clothes from the night before. I didn’t like lying to my mom, but my priorities had shifted away from my family and toward spending more time with Seth and our friends.

And the gigs kept coming. I couldn’t go to all of them, but I’d gotten so good at sneaking out while my dad was away, that I kept it up even after they got back from New York, sometimes leaving on a school night only to return just before my alarm was set to go off in the morning. Sabrina wasn’t managing much better than me. One day she and I were sitting at the band table during lunch when we both conked out right there on the picnic table and kept on sleeping even when our friends tried to wake us. We missed the bell signaling the end of lunch and slept through our next period.

Then one night I got back from a show, and Mai was waiting in my room for me. She’d fallen asleep in my bed but stirred awake when I climbed in through the window.

My parents hadn’t texted or called me, so she must not have told them I’d snuck out.

She was up in a flash, her smooth hair standing on end from static electricity and whisper-shouting, “Where have you been? What do you think you’re doing? Do you have a death wish?”

I begged her not to tell our parents. I lied and told her it was the first time I’d ever snuck out, and it was only because my curfew was ridiculously early. I reminded her what a bitch her curfew had been when she was my age and that I was still making straight A’s, which had always been my ace-in-the-hole.

We struck a bargain. I could still sneak out, but only on the weekends, and I had to tell her where I was going and when I’d be back. Still, it meant that if Petty Crime had a show or a party on a school night, I couldn’t go, which sucked for me.

One day toward the end of April, Sabrina casually mentioned that I should come to the gig they were having that night. It was a Wednesday, and I’d already told her and Seth that I’d have to miss it.

“I’m on lockdown until Mai goes to college,” I reminded Sabrina, a little jealous her parents had started giving her a wider berth. “Then I’m home free.”

Sabrina placed a hand on my shoulder and looked at me with purpose. “I really think you should come, Hiro.”

That set off a warning bell in my mind. I tried to read her but couldn’t. “Okaaay.”

“You should come wearing sunglasses and a ball cap so no one recognizes you,” she said pointedly.

I had no idea why I would need to go to a Petty Crime show in disguise. “You mean so Seth won’t recognize me?”

“Yes.”

“This conversation is getting weird, Sabrina. Why would I do that?”

“We need a second opinion on a couple of new songs. You know how controlling Seth can be. Come as an objective observer.”

As far as I knew, they were playing the same setlist they’d always played. It bothered me that Seth would change it up without letting me know. I considered myself something of an artistic consultant on these matters. The whole conversation was strange, and it left me with an eerie feeling, one I couldn’t shake for the rest of the day.

That night I waited until my parents were asleep, then popped over to Mai’s room and told her where I was going and when I’d be back.

“You’re breaking the terms of our arrangement,” she said like a contract lawyer.

“I know, but Sabrina really wants me there tonight. I think something’s up with the band. You can come with me if you want.”

I suggested it thinking she’d decline.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

I was surprised she’d agreed to it, but I was also kind of looking forward to it. Mai and I had gone out together a few times in Japan with our cousins, and we’d had a lot of fun. And it meant that I wouldn’t have to ride my bike there. I knew I could get her in—the bouncers all knew me by name by then, and if not by name, then by my association to Seth. I pulled a pink wig off a plastic mannequin head bust—she’d gotten it in Japan—and instructed her to wear sunglasses as well. For me, I got a ski hat and aviators.

“Why are we dressing up?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I think Sabrina doesn’t want Seth to spot me.”

That uncomfortable feeling was back, like I had something slithering up the sides of my stomach, but I wasn’t going to stress until I knew the situation.

We arrived at Corner Bar after the show had already been going on for a while. The bouncer waved us in, winking at Mai as she passed by him.

“It’s so dark in here,” Mai observed, wrinkling up her nose. “And smoky.”

It wasn’t smoke. It was mist from some sort of fog machine the band must be trying out. Maybe that was what Sabrina wanted me to weigh in on. Seth was fond of using props and lights to create atmosphere. Sabrina thought it was gimmicky and that the music should speak for itself. Mitchell and Dean didn’t offer their opinions, which usually left me as the tiebreaker.

Seth was on stage, lit by a single spotlight and singing like a siren. I fell in love with him a little more every time I watched him perform. I was tempted to come in closer and reveal myself, but Sabrina had been so adamant about me being incognito. So, we sat at the bar. I ordered sodas for Mai and me to have something to drink while we waited for Petty Crime to finish out their last set. They were playing more or less the same songs they always had, which further confused me.

“So, this is where you go all those nights?” Mai glanced around at our surroundings like an anthropologist while trying not to sound too judgy about it. Corner Bar was pretty small, but the crowd was always good. It was known in Austin as the place you go to hear undiscovered acts, which meant the bands were sometimes hit or miss. Judging from the rapt attention of the crowd, it seemed Petty Crime was a hit. Seth always said he’d prefer to play to a small crowded room rather than a big, empty one. The band was hoping that if their tour of smaller venues went well and they were able to get a solid reputation locally, they’d get a booking at The Tomahawk, which was just a couple of blocks away but was a much bigger, multi-level outdoor arena. The Tomahawk was the equivalent to “making it” for a local band.

I amused myself with answering Mai’s questions about the band, their music, and my contributions to their artistic direction. Mai was impressed that I’d not only hooked them up with Sabrina but picked out their name, designed their logo, wrote several of the lyrics to their songs, and helped sell the merch.

“You should be getting paid for this,” Mai said. I smiled at her. She was probably right, but I reasoned that I got paid in other ways.

My head swiveled back toward the stage where Seth was cooing into the microphone. It was then that I noticed someone in the crowd had caught his attention. At first, I thought I’d only imagined it, but the more I watched, the more I realized…Seth was singing to someone in the audience the way he usually sang to me.

“Stay here,” I told Mai and skirted along the side of the club to get a better look.

The kid who’d caught Seth’s eye was young, but still probably older than me, since it was an 18-and-older night. Dirty blond hair, clean-shaven, eyes as wide as pie. From the giddy smile on the boy’s face, Seth’s magic appeared to be working on him. He looked like a walking John Deere tractor ad with his plaid, button-up shirt and boot-cut Levi’s. And he was completely over-the-moon for Seth, following his every gesture, hanging on his every word, swaying a little to the beat. I was watching Seth’s ritual seduction, only this time from the outside and aimed at someone else.

Could this be what Sabrina had wanted me to see?

But this was only an act for Seth. It was what he did as a performer. Like Elvis and any good front man, he worked the crowd into a sexual frenzy. It was part of Petty Crime’s kitsch. So, even though my pulse was racing, and my panic was escalating, I hung back in the shadows and waited.

Finally, their solos were complete, and the last song ended. I expected to see the band wave and thank the crowd, then begin unhooking their amps and winding up cords, but instead, after Petty Crime’s usual send-off, Seth reached out to the blond boy and pulled him up on stage with one valiant tug. Seth whispered something close to his ear, and the boy’s eyes went wide. I knew Seth had just said something provocative to him because it was the same reaction he’d elicited from me.

My boyfriend was cheating on me, maybe had been for a while. My world was rapidly destabilizing, like straddling two shifting tectonic plates and trying to maintain balance. My lungs struggled to take in a whole breath, and my head was spinning. This was what Sabrina had wanted me to see. But why hadn’t she just told me herself? Perhaps she’d been afraid I might take my anger out on her.

Or Seth threatened her. That made me doubly upset.

“Hiroku, what’s going on?”

Mai had found me. Her hand was on my arm, and her eyes were full of concern. She must have seen it too.

The mist from the smoke machine made my eyes burn. My head throbbed, and I was having trouble focusing. I could walk away now and never know the truth. I could believe whatever excuse Seth told me—that boy was his dealer or his friend from way back or his fucking cousin. Take your pick; I’d believe any one of them.

But I owed myself to know the truth. During the gory scenes in a horror movie, I never looked away; I forced myself to watch. This wasn’t unlike that. If Seth was cheating on me, I wanted to see it with my own eyes.

“I need you to wait for me in the car,” I said to Mai.

Her eyebrows dipped even farther. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. My fists were clenched at my sides, every muscle in my body taut and straining. Mai slowly backed away. I pulled off my hat and glasses and mounted the stage. “Where is he?” I said like the voice of death. Mitchell glanced up with a panicked look. Dean shook his head regretfully. Sabrina pointed in the direction of a closed door and mouthed silently, “I’m sorry.”

I stalked over to the door, knowing that whatever was behind it would change my life forever. The horrible monster waiting for me at the end of the darkened alleyway. I could still walk away and never know the truth. But then I’d always wonder if I was being lied to, and wouldn’t that be worse?

I opened the door to what was a large storage room and found the blond boy in the back corner on his knees, capitulated in front of Seth and doing for him what I’d done countless times before. Seth’s back was to me, but I could tell he was into it—ass pumping, moans erupting up from his throat like his soul was being torn from his body. His utterances were so musical, it was practically a song, and Seth was so captivated by the boy and what he was doing that he didn’t even notice me standing in the doorway.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The boy was practically choking on Seth’s dick while Seth’s hips rolled in time with his thrusts. Seth’s forearm was braced against the wall while his other hand gripped the boy’s head greedily. Fucking his face. I could see where Seth’s T-shirt had ridden up to expose his heart tattoo. How many times had I kissed that tattoo? How many times had I sucked that dick, whenever and wherever he wanted? I gave him everything—every part of me—to him and only him, and here he was giving himself away to a complete stranger.

The boy noticed me first, his cornflower blue eyes opening wide and darting in my direction, gaping mouth still wrapped around Seth’s cock. Seth realized the interruption and glanced down to see what had happened. Then his head and shoulders turned, and his gaze shifted toward me.

Caught.

He was caught, and he fucking knew it.

“Hiroku.” Seth pushed the boy off him and buttoned up, never taking his eyes off me.

I took off, running blindly past the stage, through the fogged room and out a side exit close to where Mai had parked on the street. The car was already running. Seth came tearing around the corner of the building as Mai pulled away without a word. Smooth as a criminal. My hands were shaking, mind racing, heart collapsing in my chest. I wanted to get as far away from Seth as possible, from what I’d seen, from the moment everything shattered like a glass trinket hitting the concrete.

I forced my gaze out the window so my sister wouldn’t see my devastation, but I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling silently down my cheeks. Thankfully, Mai didn’t ask any questions, just drove the speed limit and let me quietly fall apart in her passenger seat.

When we reached our house and pulled up to the curb, I uttered my first words to her about that night. “I’m so stupid…all this time.”

In the cloak of darkness across the center console of her reliable Honda Accord, my sister gripped me to her, tried and failed to hold me together.

“You’re not stupid, Hiroku,” she said in a voice like iron. “He’s the stupid one.”