Douchebags
I didn’t have a chance to talk to Seamus again before the concert that night. I didn’t like it. Every second I was away from him and closer to Zac – although never that close – my anxiety grew. When I was with Seamus, everything felt okay and I really believed that I could be faithful to him. But when I was with Zac, I seemed to forget all of that.
I stood in the wings during Seamus’ set and watched him perform and it soothed my worries a little. There was an odd tension in the venue that night that I didn’t think was just my imagination. It was one of the smaller venues we had played on this tour; smaller and overall crappier than nearly every venue on the schedule for this tour, in fact. We hadn’t had much choice, though, if we wanted to play in Kentucky. Being crammed in so closely with all of our crew and the venue staff seemed to be fraying everyone’s nerves.
When Seamus finished his set, he hurried off to my side of the stage. He still wore his guitar, so we couldn’t get that close, but he paused by me for a moment and grasped my hand. It wasn’t enough for me, really, but I supposed it would have to do. We would have plenty of time together after the show.
“Break a leg,” he said, giving me a grin and leaning in just a bit closer. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. He just grinned a little wider, squeezed my hand, and walked away.
I suddenly became aware of the presence of a few of the venue guys. I hadn’t noticed that they were just standing around being useless so near me, but apparently they were. We had had some pretty shitty encounters with the event staff at venues before, but these guys hadn’t been so bad – just very lazy and obviously not all that happy to be working a Hanson concert. That was nothing new and definitely nothing we hadn’t dealt with before.
Something seemed different this time, though. I noticed one of them whisper something to another one, then nod his head in my direction. Were they talking about me? It seemed pretty obvious that they were, but I felt conceited for assuming it. Then again, as I’m sure Zac would have pointed out if he’d been around, I am conceited.
They were definitely talking about me, though. The second guy glanced my way and laughed a little, evidently amused by whatever the first one said. He muttered something back to the first guy, and then they both laughed. Awesome. There’s nothing better than venue staff who think we’re just a joke.
Then I remembered. Seamus held my hand.
Great. Fucking great. Maybe they didn’t see it, but what were the chances that they found something else about me – although granted, there is plenty – to laugh about right after seeing me with my boyfriend?
I could already tell it was going to be a great night, and we hadn’t even begun our set. Speaking of which, Muff chose that exact moment to walk up with my mic pack, a triumphant look on his face. It had been malfunctioning earlier but I really wasn’t concerned about it yet. There was plenty of time to fix it.
“Alright, get this on,” he said, handing it to me. “You guys are on in just about fifteen minutes.”
Was that all? Shit. Then again, it got me away from those two douchebags, so I couldn’t complain very much. I gave Muff a smile and took the mic pack from him, clipping it onto my belt as I walked away to find the rest of the band, who were no doubt already warming up and getting ready for the pre-show huddle.
Since the venue was so small, it didn’t take me very long to find everyone. Just as I suspected, they were already finished with their vocal warmups – I had luckily done mine before Seamus went onstage – and were huddling together for our last little ritual before the beginning of the show. I squeezed in between Isaac and Demetrius. Zac shot me a strange look, but didn’t say anything, and no one else seemed to have even noticed that I was a little late.
The huddle is a time honored tradition on our tours. We say something vaguely resembling a prayer, then attempt to get each other pumped up for the show. It all ends with a reminder not to suck, and on that particular night, I was positive that Zac gave me a special little look when those words left his mouth.
I really didn’t know what the hell his problem was, but I didn’t have much time to think about it. With a cheer that no one but us could possibly duplicate, we broke the huddle and began to head to our various spots on the side of the stage. Zac and I wove our way through the backstage area toward the left side of the stage, dodging various members of our crew and the venue staff. One of the latter bumped me with his shoulder – hard – as I passed him, and it was enough to make me stop in my tracks and stare back at him as he walked on.
“What is it?” Zac asked.
I glanced back at him and shook my head. He hadn’t seen, I supposed, and I wasn’t totally convinced that it wasn’t all in my imagination.
“Nothing. Just, um.. checking my mic pack,” I lied, patting the pack in the hopes of packing the lie look at least vaguely convincing.
It was good enough for Zac, I guess, because he just shrugged and walked away. I really didn’t want to deal with him being mad at me and everyone at the venue being douchebags, too, but that seemed how things were going. But as soon as the lights went down to signal the beginning of the show, all those thoughts and worries left my mind.
There really is nothing like playing a concert to get my mind off everything that’s been plaguing it. That was definitely the case on that particular night. I poured every ounce of my frustration and confusion into my performance, and if you ask me, it sounded pretty damn good. I got so wrapped up in how good it felt, in fact, that it seems like only seconds have passed when our first set is over and we’re hurrying off stage to let the crew set up for our acoustic set.
The first person I saw when I got off stage was Seamus, and immediately I felt my stomach drop. That’s exactly the opposite of the reaction I should have had to him, and it only made me feel even worse to realize that. I really just couldn’t win.
“Hey, you,” he said, giving me that grin that usually turned me insides to mush. “You’re killing ’em out there, as usual. And back here.”
He leaned in a little closer at that last, leaving no doubt that he was referring to himself. I opened my mouth to reply, even though I had no clue what to say, but nothing comes out except for a pained squeak.
Someone definitely just crushed my left foot under what felt like a steel toed boot. I glanced around in time to see that same douchebag who shoved me out of his way earlier walked by with a microphone stand. What the hell is his problem?
“You alright?” Seamus asked, frowning. “Did that guy just…”
He trailed off, presumably just as confused and incredulous as I was. I really didn’t know what these guys had against me, although I had a sneaking suspicion that only seemed to grow into certainty the longer I stood there so close to Seamus.
It’s not like I ever tried to hide my sexuality once I accepted it myself. If people wanted to speculate about it, I let them. The only people who I ever told the truth to were people I cared about, and the rest of the world were free to draw their own conclusions. So far, that method have served me well; sure, I was often the butt of people’s jokes, but that started long before I even knew I was bisexual. It’s never truly been that malicious. Or if it was, I’ve never noticed. I couldn’t help seeing it that night, though.
Soon enough, though, the crew finished setting up for our acoustic set and we all rushed back on stage. The rest of the show went by in just as much of a blur as the first portion of it did. I wished it would slow down a little so that I could actually enjoy it. And I’ll admit, I was dreading any more potential run-ins with those douchebags, too. I could hold my own in a fight with Zac or Isaac, but I didn’t think I stood much of a chance against any of those steroid driven idiots. I hated myself for even thinking it could come to that, but anything was possible.
Somehow, despite my worried thoughts, I made it through the show without any major fuck ups. It all seemed to go really, really smoothly, in fact. I knew I wasn’t just imagining things, either. The crowd was extra loud at the end, despite being arguably the smallest audience we had had all tour. And when we made our way backstage, I could see smiles all around – at least from the other guys and our crew.
There was definitely still a strange tension all around us, and I knew that while part of it was whatever had happened between me and Zac earlier, the biggest part of it was because this venue was apparently Homophobia Central. I tried not to think about it very much, though. We still had the meet and greet and reporter interview to get through.
Unfortunately, we had planned to do those in the venue. I suggested that we move to the bus, but Machine quickly informed me that the bus was parked way too close to the venue and was already surrounded by fans. There was no way we could get out there and barricade ourselves inside for the interview without having to stop and sign a billion autographs first. And since it would have been rude to leave these chosen fans waiting, we were forced to hold the meet and greet on the stage.
It went as well as it could have, I supposed. I’m sure the asshole who walked by singing an uninspired, off key and inaccurate version of Mmmbop thought he was really funny. If he heard Zac’s mumbled cuss words as he walked away, he didn’t say or do anything to let it show. That was good. I knew Zac had a temper, and he really didn’t need any reason to show it off that night.
Soon, but not as soon as I would have liked, we had signed everything offered and answered every question asked. While Bex huddled the fans outside, Machine informed us that we had time to take very quick showers if we wanted before heading outside to face the crowd. Isaac and Zac both opted to wait, but I suddenly realized that I was absolutely disgusting. I couldn’t very well make things up to Seamus if I smelled like a locker room full of football players after a big game. Not that I would have any clue what that really smelled like, but I could imagine that it was quite similar to my stench right then.
The shower did made me feel much better. The warm water seemed to wash away everything that was stressing me out, so that by the time I emerged from the bathroom in clean clothes, toweling my hair dry, I felt like a new man. It sounds cheesy, but it’s the truth.
Seamus was the first person I thought of when I stepped back out into the green room, but he was nowhere to be found. In fact, I couldn’t find anyone at all. The venue was eerily quiet and for a brief moment, I wondered if everyone had left without me. But why would they have done that? It was completely ridiculous.
I made my way through the hallways, looking for anyone at all who I might know. I couldn’t seem to find anyone, though, and the venue was still far quieter than it had any right to be. I didn’t see a single person or hear a single sound until I reached the side of the stage and swept the curtain back. That first sound was the unmistakable sound of a fist connecting with a face.
And the first person I saw? Zac. Followed quickly by that douchebag who had crushed my foot.