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“The record label, the management team.” I sighed. “I’m bisexual, and even before I was in the band, I had had a boyfriend and a girlfriend or two, but they believed it was better for the band not to say that. They thought they could make more money if I was this straight guy who all the girls could fawn over. Only problem with that idea was the older I got, the more and more I was attracted to other men.
“I wanted to be a normal guy in my late teens and early twenties. I wanted to date, to experience life and be with whoever I wanted to. Not being able to do that really started to get to me. I started to not like myself. I started to not like the life I was living, and the secrets I was keeping. To compensate for that I started to drink. And then it was me drinking too much, but it wasn’t a problem, right? I mean I was just a social drinker; it wasn’t like I was an alcoholic, and at least it wasn’t drugs, right?”
Tom’s expression was one of simple compassion. There was no judgement or pity. It was refreshing to tell someone my truth and not have them look at me differently because of it. The ease with which I could talk to Tom about all this surprised me a little. It felt comforting, and yet at the same time bizarre to trust someone without hesitation like I could with him.
“Obviously, in reality, it was a big fucking problem. Something needed to change before it killed me, and I checked myself into rehab to try and get my life back to being my own.”
“I take it from the very fact that you’re here and back out in the music business you did exactly that?” he asked unobtrusively.
I ran my tongue over my lips to wet them before I continued, and I felt his eyes tracking the movement. “Well, I’ve been sober for twelve years now. When I quit the band, I lost four guys I thought were my best friends, but they dismissed me at the time as being a selfish wanker. The management team was more worried about the fans than me, and the label dropped me like a stone. But I was free, and for the first time since before I went to that bloody audition my life was my own again. It felt damn good. Looking back on it all, who knows what the hell the guys in the band were told about the situation. I’m just saddened that not once did one of them ever reach out to me and ask about it.”
His smile made me feel like he was proud of my actions. I knew that I was these days – of all the progress I had made in my life and now with my music again. I used to be so unsure of myself, to worry that I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. Maturity and distance from those events were always showing me that it wasn’t necessary; I was doing well. I was thriving, and aside from the hiccup of the stalker, I was hoping that would continue.
CHAPTER 6
TOM
“What about you?” he asked. “Why did you join the Army?”
I chuckled when I thought about my answer. “I was sixteen and fucking stupid.”
Lennox snorted.
“Not in the way you would think,” I continued, “I was smart, but at some point around my fifteenth birthday I fell into the company of a couple of dickheads in school. Instead of keeping my head down and getting on with my GCSEs, I fucked around and skipped school to smoke and drink cheap cider like a complete waster.”
Lennox’s brows furrowed like he didn’t believe a word I was saying.
“I know, I don’t seem the type, right?” I laughed. “My uncle was a policeman; he told me to either get my shit together and make my mother proud or he would kick my ass. I decided that joining the Army and making something of myself was the most sensible way of doing that.”
Lennox smirked. “Did your mum approve?”
“Fuck no. She was convinced her only son was going to get himself killed and she would forever be worrying about me. At least until I got my first medal, and my first commendation, and then my first command. Then she sang a whole other story of how amazingly well her son was doing and how he was travelling all over the world.” I laughed thinking about a time Mum had been telling her bingo friends all about her officer son and how he was the boss of a group of other soldiers.
“How long have you been out of the Army?”
I sighed thinking about it because it made me feel old. “I was thirty-five when I got out, so seven years, and I’ve had my business for six years now.
Lennox’s eyes widened. “You certainly don’t look like a man in your forties!”
I could feel the heat radiating across my cheeks at his compliment. “Thank you. I try to look after myself as best I can. Ditching the cigarettes and booze helped with that.”
Lennox looked like he was considering whether to ask his next question or not. I smiled and took a guess at what it was.
“No, I wasn’t an alcoholic, but I was damn close the way I was going. Haven’t touched either in four years.”
He nodded. “I take it with the way your business demands your time there isn’t anyone waiting at home for you?”
I snorted. “Nah, Mr Right doesn’t even know I exist.”
Lennox looked at me in disbelief.
“What? Yes, your bodyguard is gay.”
He shook his head. “I guess I just assumed that an ex-Army guy was probably straight.”
“As a gay soldier, I let a lot of people assume exactly that, and told no one the truth about it, not really. Sure, I messed around with other gay recruits—we had ways of ending up in each other’s company—but it’s not something you can openly admit in the Army. I mean, they try to say that you can be honest about how you are, but you and I both know what that’s like and how people are bloody quick to tell you that it’s better you don’t.”
Lennox’s smile was soft and regretful and didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew only too well how it felt given what he had just told me.
