TWENTY FOUR

 

The Lost Boys were back, and their tour had been, in terms of the pure numbers, an unmitigated success. None of them were going to be having any sort of financial issues for the near future, and that was something. One win among too many loses. Far, far too many.

Loses such as, for example, the fact that they had lost Aaron. What it would mean for the band, Brad had no idea. Losing Darien had been hard enough, from everything that Brad understood, though that had happened before his time. Jamie had really stepped up, but who could ever take Aaron’s place?

Speaking of Darien.

He was there, sitting and watching the auditions, as comfortable as if he belonged there all along. And maybe he did. After all, Darien was only there at all because he was keeping his boyfriend, Noah, who managed all of the social media, company, but Darien just seemed like he belonged in this room. Belonged with the other members of the band.

Thinking about it was a welcome distraction from how Brad was not looking at Aaron, who was not looking at him. They were both so carefully not looking at each other that it was almost a physical pressure between them, one that made it uncomfortable and almost impossible for Brad to focus on the hordes of unremarkable people who were gracing the stage and trying to impress them.

All of them were decent looking, Brad supposed, and some of them had talent. But none of them were the full package. None of them would hold the Lost Boys together the same way that Aaron did. Some of them could sing, others could dance, but none of them could do it all.

Man after man shuffled across the stage, and when Brad dared to look around, when he gazed at the Lost Boys, at Justin, who had his hand possessively on Ken’s shoulder, and Darien and Noah, who were holding hands as they watched, he saw the same irritated, frustrated expression on all of their faces.

What Aaron’s looked like, Brad didn’t know. He didn’t dare to look. Honestly, Brad was a little surprised that Aaron had come at all, but of course, Aaron was professional and perfectionistic, enough, that he would want to make sure that whoever replaced him was good enough.

After a half hour of horrible auditions, Lara gave Brad a look which made it very clear that she had mentally thrown up her hands, had given up on the whole thing for right now, and then she had left. Lucky her. How much trouble would Brad get into himself if he left?

Paying attention was impossible. Brad found his gaze slipping over, more and more often, to Darien. Darien, who had been incredibly popular back when he was in the band, and who had only increased that popularity by leaving when his star was still so high and bright.

Could Darien take Aaron’s place? No, of course not. Brad was starting to come to the uncomfortable revelation that no one could. But if anyone could come close, wouldn’t it be Darien, who had already worked with the band? Who could clearly get along with them all?

Brad was moving before he had even considered it on more than a surface level. This was the sort of thing that he should really be talking to Lara about before he made any offers, but it was just a conversation, right? So, without allowing himself to think about it, Brad went over and sat beside Darien, who turned to look at him with wide, surprised sky blue eyes.

As well he should, Brad supposed. They had met, but only once, and briefly. So for Brad to drop down into the seat beside Darien, that was undoubtedly a bit of a surprise for the young man.

“Do you want to come back?”

Not nearly as suave as Brad normally was, and he knew it. He should have probably made some small talk first, but the situation was pretty dire. They were finally getting to the end of the list of men who were supposed to audition today, and there hadn’t been one, not a single one, that Brad wanted to call back to see again.

“No,” Darien recovered quickly enough, and his fingers laced with Noah’s, holding his husband close to himself. “I mean, part of me would like to, but no.”

Well, there went the last little bit of hope that Brad might have allowed himself to feel. Darien wouldn’t be perfect. No one would be, other than Aaron. And Darien certainly had shown no sign of interest in a solo career, so Lara wouldn’t be fully appeased.

Still, he would have been a damn sight better than anyone else that they’d seen that day. Brad felt his shoulders slump, and something inside of him, some awareness of where Aaron was in relation to himself at any given time, told him when the other man got up and left the room.

The auditions were over, and no one had been even close to what they wanted.

“Why?” Brad asked, not out of any real thought that he might change Darien’s mind, but simply because he wanted to know. He was curious. What was Darien doing with his life that was so much better than fame and fortune?

“I only have a year more until I graduate,” Darien said, his eyes direct and unflinching. “And then a year more to get qualified to teach. And besides …” His eyes slanted over to where Noah sat at his side, smiling with a sort of fondness that made Brad’s heart lurch uncomfortably in his chest, it was so open and honest, “I just want to be married. I don’t want to be in the limelight anymore.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know,” came Jamie’s amused voice. While Brad had been busy talking to Darien, he and Lance had walked up, apparently, and had heard at least the tail end of that conversation.

“What?” Darien asked, and Lance reached down and squeezed the young man’s shoulder, clearly deeply affectionate toward him. Damn it, if only Darien would see reason.

“Being married and being in showbiz,” Lance clarified, and Darien gave a little bit of a shrug and turned to kiss Noah on the cheek.

“It is for us.”

Jamie smiled a bit, his arm around Lance’s slender waist, his head on his husband’s shoulder, completely contented.

“Well, it works for us,” Jamie said, “But we actually needed to talk to you, Brad.”

“Now?” Lance asked, and Jamie gave him an adoring look and a nod, head tilted coquettishly to the side in a way that Brad found himself a wee bit uncomfortable with. They just so obviously wanted each other.

“Now’s the time,” Jamie said, and he beckoned Ken over from where Brad saw that he had been hanging around the edges with Justin, as always, by his side. Brad crossed his arms over his chest and looked around at all of them, his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what this was all about.

It was probably better for him to get this over with, whatever it was, and he was glad that Jamie had insisted. Ken came over, pulling Justin down into his lap, and then it was all of the Lost Boys, and all of their partners, past and present.

Except for Aaron. Aaron, of course, was long gone, and someday maybe that would even quit feeling quite as much like a knife right to the belly to think about it.

“Jamie and I want out of the Lost Boys,” Lance said, and Brad’s eyes widened as he stared at them both. “We want to go solo. Well, I mean, the two of us. A smaller group. Whatever you would call that.”

“Some people would call that a duo, babe,” Jamie murmured, an amused little smirk on his face, but Lance took that in stride better than Brad knew that he would have.

“Right, yeah. One of those. And before you say it, I know that there’s not as much call for that sort of thing, but that’s fine. We have enough money. We just want to perform.”

Lance seemed serious, and Brad blinked and then shook his head in amazement. Whatever he might have been expecting, it wasn’t that, but he could tell from the way that they looked at each other that they were serious.

“Oh,” Ken spoke up then, his arms around Justin’s waist, holding him close in an easy way that Brad could almost envy. All of these men, actually, were pretty open with the PDAs, or maybe it was simply that they felt comfortable here. “Um, this might be a good chance for me to say something, too.”

Brad turned to look at Ken, who was slightly pink in the cheeks, but who looked completely determined. And when Brad saw the look on Justin’s face, he knew, before Ken even had to say anything.

“I wasn’t sure until today, but when I saw how much all of those people sucked, and then hearing that Lance and Jamie are leaving, just like Aaron …”

Brad sighed and shook his head. He held up his hand, and Ken, for a wonder, actually fell silent. He wasn’t exactly known for doing that, but the look on Brad’s face must have told him it was a good idea.

“You’re leaving. Why?”

Brad sounded, and was, more curious than he was angry. What was there to be angry about? Really, this had all been inevitable, perhaps, from the moment that Aaron had decided to walk out. Aaron had no idea about this, but Brad had known for a while, since almost the day that he’d started as their manager, that Aaron was the glue that held this group together.

Without that glue, it was all just dissolving, like the Lost Boys were a castle made of sugar cubes that had had boiling water poured over it. And along with them, Brad supposed, went any hope of his own career advancing.

Or could this be the straw that would break the camel’s back when it came to Lara’s patience with him? Could she just outright fire him? Of course, she could, and she probably would, when she realized that the band was going to outright break up.

“I know it’s going to sound a little weird, but Justin and I want to adopt a kid. I thought I’d try out the whole soccer dad thing.”

And it did sound a little weird. More than a little. Ken, with all of his energy, all of his restlessness, settling down to take care of kids? On the other hand, the more Brad thought about it, the more he felt like it made perfect sense. Like it might be the best thing for him.

At least he would have the energy to take care of them. So, while he had to shake his head a little bit, Brad had to admit that it sort of worked.

“Well, I guess that’s it, then,” Brad murmured, and there was an odd sense, a creeping sensation right in the bit of his stomach that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was failure. Or maybe it was relief, because whatever was going to happen now, it was just inevitable.

“Would you manage us?” Lance asked, and Brad was actually startled by the question. He had been pretty sure that these men would be pretty glad to see the back of him, and he looked into both sets of eyes, one jade and the other crystalline blue, and tried to see any pity there. Even the slightest hint of it and he would walk away right then and there.

Sure, he was in a bad place, but he just wasn’t the sort of person to sit around and let himself be pitied. He wouldn’t take a job for any reason less than that he was completely and totally qualified for it, and he looked at the two of them suspiciously.

And he saw nothing but earnest supplication there. No pity, no indication at all that it was anything but what Lance and Jamie both wanted.

“Why?” Brad asked, still suspicious. After how badly he’d mucked this whole experience up, why would anyone in their right mind want him to manage them? Weren’t they afraid that he would just mess everything up even more?

He certainly knew that he was.

“Uh, because you’re amazing?” Jamie countered, his eyes full of sardonic amusement, but sincerity, too. “Way better than Lester. We’ll take our chances with you any day.”

Brad frowned, and the mental image of Aaron came into his head all of a sudden. With everything that had happened between them, Brad had sort of allowed his self-esteem to take a hit. He wished like anything that Aaron was there so that he could hear what Jamie had said.

Funny, wasn’t it? In a sad sort of way? He had been tossed a rope here. He had been about to give up all hope, and then Jamie and Lance came to the rescue, and he was thinking about Aaron?

“Don’t you want to manage us?” Jamie and Lance were exchanging uncertain looks now, and Brad realized that he had been utterly silent for longer than was usually considered polite. They were probably afraid that they had offended him, and he softly sighed as he came back to himself.

“Yes. Of course, I do.”

It was Ken who spoke up then, Ken who reminded Brad that he was surrounded by people, some of whom he barely knew, like Darien and Noah and Justin. But they were all connected to the Lost Boys, very intimately connected, and Brad tried to tell the panicky, freaked out voice in his head to take a hike.

“But you’re thinking about Aaron.”

When Brad looked around and gazed into the eyes of the other men sitting around him, he realized that Ken had said what they were all thinking. His first impulse was to deny it, to refuse to have that sort of weakness. But refusing to have it wasn’t actually helping him, well, not have it.

“I guess …” Brad’s voice trailed off, and he glanced around, but the only people around were people that he trusted. And how strange was that? Before this job, he could have counted the people that he trusted on the finger of, well, one finger. Lara. That was it, and that was only because he knew he could trust her to act always in her own self-interest. He had always been the same way.

“I guess I’ve never been in love before. It’s taking some time to adjust.”

The fact that he would admit to that meant that he trusted these men. Or maybe that he needed to kill them, he mused to himself, smirking a little bit when he saw the surprise echoed in all eyes.

“Why can’t you guys be together?” It was Lance who spoke then, romantic Lance, who still probably believed in fairy tales and castles and unicorns and true love and happy endings. Why shouldn’t he? He’d found his own, after all.

“Aaron dumped me,” Brad made the words as cold and hard as he could, trying to impress upon himself how true they were so that he didn’t give himself any hope. “Remember? You were there at the time.”

“That’s just Aaron being Aaron,” Justin spoke up, one of the few times that Brad had even heard his voice. To say that the songwriter was the quiet type was an understatement, and he seemed to trust almost as reluctantly as Brad did, but Brad had passed some sort of test, it seemed, with Justin.

“If Aaron did want you back, would you do it?” Darien asked, and Brad tried to give that some objective thought, to weigh the pros and cons. To do all of the sensible things that he usually had no problem doing.

“Yes.” Brad’s mouth opened before he even got into making a list in his head before he could add up the points for and against into neat little rows. The word came out before he could stop it, and he dropped his gaze down to his hands, saw the way they clenched around each other in his lap, so tightly that the knuckles had turned a cold, yellowish white.

Because for once in his life, it wasn’t about logic. It wasn’t about what made sense, or what was safest for his heart, which was usually the same thing. It wasn’t about keeping himself safe at all.

It was about what he wanted, and that was Aaron. If Aaron wanted to make it work, Brad would try, even though he usually wasn’t the sort of glutton for punishment who would take someone back who had broken his heart.

Only maybe his heart wasn’t broken. It had been bruised, no doubt, and it still throbbed with a hot, sickening, beat that went along with the beating of his heart, but it was still whole, and the walls that Aaron had torn down were still gone. Hope raised its head again, making itself known, though Brad had thought that ruthless, relentless creature dead and gone when Aaron had pushed him out.

“So go see him,” Noah said, his voice soft and quiet, the sort of voice that had people leaning forward to hear what it was that he had to say. Funny how it was the quiet ones, Justin and Noah, who appealed to him most, who he was most willing to listen to, though maybe that made perfect sense because of the way he was himself.

“I don’t think he’s interested,” Brad managed, speaking around a lump in his throat that he knew was that wretched creature, hope, trying to rise up, to elate him, just waiting to break him if he let it in.

“You’re still his boss, you know,” Jamie spoke up, a bit of a smirk on his full lips, a look of pure mischief radiating from his face, especially those crystal eyes of his. “You have an excuse to see him whenever you want.”

It was true, wasn’t it? Aaron was technically under contract for a few more days, and Brad was, in fact, his boss. It was funny, in a way, because Brad had always figured that it was him being Aaron’s boss which was the main problem between them.

Wasn’t it possible that it could be the solution, too?

If there was any chance that Aaron was even willing to consider being with him, really being with him, without keeping it secret, then Brad had to give it a try. It was probably for nothing.

Only that wasn’t true. It wouldn’t be for nothing, because even if Aaron told him to take a hike, at least he would know for sure that it was pointless, and he could do his best to move on. Really, even though he was putting himself out there in a way that, if he let himself be completely honest, terrified him, there was no really bad outcome for him.

Not worse than what he was going through.

So he pulled out his phone and sent a text, and he didn’t, oddly, even care that the group of men surrounding him was watching. They were to be trusted, and there would be more time later to enjoy the feel of that. More time later to think about Jamie and Lance, and how he would manage their grand debut.

I would like to meet with you before your contract is up.

There. He had done it. The text was sent, and Brad closed his eyes, his breathing elevated as though he had been working out though all he had been doing was sitting there. The ball was in Aaron’s court, and even though Brad knew, just because of how Aaron was, that it would likely just stay there …

… He still couldn’t help but have hope. That damned, stupid, inconvenient hope.