Nov. 15, 2013. Acacia Ave., Glendale, CA.
Taylor
It was all too easy to get away. For the extent of the flight, my guilt gnawed and clawed at my insides, but it didn’t stop me from moving and carrying out my plan. The whole convoluted plan meant that I didn’t land in Los Angeles until early afternoon the next day. As soon as we were allowed to turn our phones back on, I sent Zac a text that I wasn’t feeling well. It would only delay him finding out the truth, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances. I had given Natalie a slightly different timeline for my return, which would again, only delay the inevitable.
Until then, I was determined to enjoy myself. Just knowing I was so close to Scott set me at ease and pushed all those worries out of my mind. Nothing else mattered but being with him.
In spite of his small stature, Scott was all too easy to spot at the airport gate. With his sunglasses on and his sun-streaked hair spiked up in that deliberate, yet casual way, he looked like the very spirit of California embodied. That thought made me almost laugh, but I didn’t think I could even begin to explain it to him, so I stifled the urge and settled for a smile.
When I finally shouldered my way through the crowd and reached him, he gave me a huge grin and pulled his sunglasses off. “Hey, babe.”
“Hey.” My own smile felt like it was going to split my face in half.
“Good to see ya,” Scott said, giving me the sort of lazy, one-armed half-hug guys seem so fond of. Of course, with other celebrities nearby, two old child stars like us were of no interest at all to the fans and paparazzi who lurked around LAX. Still, two child stars caught in a gay affair? It made a small ball of pain settle in the bottom of my stomach, but I understood Scott’s need to seem like nothing more than bros—though, under the circumstances, I supposed that wasn’t the best term, either.
“I know,” I replied quietly, hating that I could feel my face heating up. “I missed you so much.”
Scott grinned up at me. “Missed ya too, babe.”
“Can we get my luggage and get out of here?” I asked, sure that if no one else around us had, Scott had at least noticed that my face was—judging by how it felt—bright red.
“Sure thing,” he replied.
Despite the crowd, it took us only a moment to find the right bag on the baggage carousel. Our tour manager had seen to the large pieces of equipment, leaving me with only one small suitcase and my carry-on.
As I followed behind Scott, who insisted on lugging the suitcase for me, I asked, “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”
“Whatever you want,” he said with a shrug. “I finally get the chance to spoil you for a bit.”
“Well, I didn’t have anything in particular in mind. Just as long as I’m with you. God, how cheesy does that sound?”
“Pretty damn whipped,” Scott replied, chuckling. “But… I like it.”
By that point, we had reached his car, and I didn’t care at all who saw me blushing.
It was a long, but comfortably quiet drive to Scott’s apartment. The radio was tuned to some alt rock station, the volume low. When his hand wasn’t on the gear shift, it found its way to mine, and I didn’t mind the traffic or the length of the drive at all.
When we reached the apartment, Scott insisted again on carrying in my suitcase. He carried it inside and stood a bit sheepishly at the door, giving me an apologetic look. “Sorry, I haven’t really had a chance to clean. I’ve been in the zone, you know, finally getting some good tracks laid down, and… things like housekeeping tend to be forgotten. You know how it is.”
“I do,” I replied. “And I’m not that picky. Like I said, as long as you’re here.”
Rather than replying, Scott just stepped in and wrapped his arms around my waist, a genuine smile on his lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned down to rest my head.
“Missed you,” I said.
“Missed you, too,” he replied, placing a soft, wet kiss to my neck.
I sighed happily, leaning harder against him, not caring at all if we collapsed under my weight. With a soft chuckle, Scott pulled himself onto his tiptoes and pressed his lips to mine. After just a few weeks apart, I had forgotten how pronounced our height difference actually was, and I couldn’t help giggling a bit as I readjusted my position to make it easier to return his kiss.
All too soon, he broke the kiss and asked, “You hungry?”
“I could eat,” I admitted. “I only had Starbucks during my layover, and that was hours ago.”
“Okay, well, I just went shopping. So I’m sure you can find something.” Scott punctuated this statement with a smirk.
I raised an eyebrow. “Am I cooking, then?”
“I heard this little rumor that you love to cook. So, get to it.” He gave my ass a slap and pointed me toward the kitchen.
“Alright, alright,” I giggled. “What would you like?”
He shrugged. “Surprise me.”
“Okay, then, let’s see what I’ve got to work with…” I headed into the kitchen, aware that Scott was leaning against the door frame looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Are you going to leave me alone to work my magic or what?”
Scott rolled his eyes, but the smirk never left his lips as he picked up my suitcase and headed up the stairs and out of sight. I waited until I heard his footsteps coming back down the stairs before I spoke again.
“So, how’s the music coming along?” I called out, sorting through the cabinets for the right size pan. I thought I had everything I needed for a fairly decent, if simple, beef stroganoff. It wasn’t the fanciest dish to impress him with, but it would do.
“Pretty good,” came his reply from the living room. “I think I’m going to be ready to cut some demos soon.”
“That’s great. And I get to hear them, right?”
“Duh.”
I giggled. Tossing the noodles into water that was just beginning to boil, I replied, “Good. I can’t wait.”
“It feels good to be doing it again, ya know?” Scott remarked. “I mean, really doing it, not just lending a hand to someone else’s stuff. Or throwing together an EP of old, stale shit just to get my name out there again.”
“Mhm,” I replied, my attention divided between Scott and the beef I was carefully cutting into strips. “I like working with other people, too, but there’s nothing like doing your own music.”
“It’s been ages, though,” Scott said, his voice a little nearer. I turned to see him standing in the door frame again. “Not really sure if anything’ll come of it or if I’ll just sit on these demos forever too. But hey, gotta do something with myself.”
“I’m sure it’ll sound great,” I replied. “I looked up some of your older stuff, by the way.”
“Oh, yeah?” He asked, lighting up a cigarette, but thankfully not coming any closer to where I was cooking, the sauce just starting to come together and the noodles boiling nicely.
“Mhm,” I replied. “I really liked the solo stuff you did before. The EP, I mean.”
“Thanks.” Scott gave me a genuine smile. “I listened to more of your stuff, too. Not bad.”
“Not bad is generally what I aim for,” I replied, grinning when Scott chuckled. “We’ve got a few I’m not so proud of, though.”
He snorted. “Don’t we all?”
“Some of the stuff we recorded, trying to make the label happy…” I trailed off and chuckled, because what else could I do? If I didn’t try to find the humor in it now, I would never be able to get through the day. “Oh man, it was bad.”
“What was that one with the rap breakdown in the middle?” Scott asked.
I nearly snapped my neck spinning around to face him. “Oh god, you found that one?!”
“Oh, yeah.”
I gave a tiny growl as I spun back around to stir the sauce, but it wasn’t directed at him. “We never did find out who leaked those. Someone at IDJ who really hated us, I’d say. That song was definitely the lowest point.”
“Kinda sounded like the dude from the Gorillaz, though,” Scott remarked.
“It was just some no name rapper,” I replied, shrugging. “I don’t even remember. Like the label was gonna spend the money for us to record with someone important, someone who might even lend us some credibility?”
Scott gave a small sound of agreement, and I realized I didn’t know much about the dissolution of his own band, except that it mostly centered around his youngest brother’s sexuality. I decided to ask him about it later to avoid ruining dinner before we had even had it.
“Can’t believe you found those old demos, though,” I mumbled. “Some of them weren’t bad but… even the decent ones are a bit dated now.”
“Zac’s voice sounds really different,” Scott added. “I guess it was changing at the time?”
“Mhm,” I replied. “Took him a while to really figure out how to use his voice after it finished changing. It’s really strong now, though.”
“Yeah,” Scott agreed. “I gotta say, the kid grew up alright.”
“Yeah… he did.” I felt myself smiling, but it was almost in spite of how I actually felt. I gave Scott a quick glance, hoping to change the subject. “It’ll be done soon. Hope you like beef stroganoff.”
He glanced at the stove top and grinned. “Looks great.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any wine? Might be nice to have with it.”
“Don’t think I’m classy enough for wine?” He asked, opening one of the few cupboards I hadn’t peeked into and pulling out what looked like a pretty decent—and expensive—bottle of Cabernet.
“I didn’t say that,” I replied, watching as he grabbed glasses from another cabinet. “You’re plenty classy.”
“Right,” Scott mumbled, carefully pouring a glass for each of us and setting them down at the kitchen table, “about as classy as a denim tux.”
I finished plating up the meal and carried two plates to the table to join him. “Just tell me you don’t own a denim tux and we’ll be alright. You never know; I mean you are Canadian, after all.”
“Hell, no,” he replied, laughing.
I chuckled. “Not that I’m in any position to judge anyone else’s fashion choices, I suppose.”
“No complaints here.” Scott gave me a very conspicuous look up and down.
“Yeah, well, keep googling me and you’ll see plenty of fashion don’ts,” I remarked.
“Oh, believe me, I did,” Scott replied. “Did you guys have a stylist or were those disasters your own fault?”
“Our own,” I replied, just barely resisting the urge to bury my head in my hands. “Totally our own.”
“Thought so,” Scott replied, raising his glass in a mock toast before finally taking a bite of the stroganoff. After a moment to chew, he said, “Okay… I’m hiring you to be my chef.”
“Thanks,” I replied, laughing. “I mean, it’s nothing special, but I’m glad you like it.”
He gave me a genuine smile that carried all the way to his eyes. “Love it.”
I returned his smile, and began to pick at my own food. It wasn’t half bad, considering how quickly I had thrown it together, and the wine was as high quality as I’d thought. I wondered if Scott had bought it just for this trip or if he kept it around hoping for a special occasion. I decided not to ask.
“So,” he finally broke the silence after a long sip of wine. “How’ve you been holding up? Behaving yourself?”
I nodded. “Mhm. I’ve been behaving. And I’ve been… alright.”
“Just alright?” Scott asked, his brow furrowing adorably.
“Well, you know… things just have been kind of…” I struggled to find the right words to explain the last two weeks of tour. I sighed. “Just… strained. With Zac.”
That was putting it mildly, but I didn’t know what else to say. After ending things between us, Zac had withdrawn from me completely, only communicating when he needed to or was forced to. He seemed happy enough, but I could sense that it was only on the surface. Yet I knew there was no way he would let me get close enough to try to help solve the problems I knew I had created.
“Yeah…” Scott replied, nodding slightly. “I hope you guys can work it out.”
“I hope so, too,” I replied. “To be honest, we’ve just been avoiding each other. Just getting our jobs done, but everything else… is just gone.”
“I’m sorry, Taylor,” Scott said, and to my surprise, his tone seemed genuine. It had to be difficult for him, knowing I was torn between so many people, but I believed he truly did want me to be happy, in whatever form that happiness took.
“It’ll work itself out eventually.” I shrugged and took a sip of my wine. I didn’t believe the lie, but I didn’t know what else to say.
Scott shook his head. “Don’t assume that. You might have to work to get things back to normal.”
I sighed. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Wish I knew what to tell you,” he replied with a sigh of his own. “I probably didn’t help matters.”
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “But I would say it’s mostly my fault. I should have never let it get started.”
“Don’t let him get away. You’ll regret it.” The words were casual, almost mumbled, and punctuated by a slow sip of wine, but I could still practically see the truth and emotion in them. Of course Scott was understanding of this thing with Zac; due to his own personal experiences, he was perhaps the only person I knew who could be.
“I don’t think it’ll ever come to that. At least, I hope it doesn’t. I can’t imagine what we’d do if…” I trailed off, truly not wanting to even think about the possibility of not having the band anymore. It was the one thing that kept me going when everything else had gone to shit. I couldn’t lose Zac and the band, too.
Scott nodded dully, his eyes fixed at some point in the depths of his wine glass.
“Do you talk to your brothers at all these days?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, that’s… that’s kind of prying. You don’t have to answer.”
He shrugged. “I call the twins once in awhile.”
“And Dave?”
Scott continued staring into the glass. After a moment, he shrugged.
“I’m sorry.” I sighed. “Forget I asked.”
“It’s fine,” he replied, but the large gulp of wine he took said that it wasn’t. “Like I said, don’t let him get away.”
I nodded soberly. “I’ll try not to.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Scott said, reaching across the table to take my hand in his. It was a surprisingly sweet and gentle move, and I appreciated it.
“I’m glad I’m here too,” I replied, “even if I did just kinda kill the mood.”
“You didn’t,” he said, shaking his head. He gave me the faintest of smiles, and said, “C’mere.”
I scooted my chair around the side of the table and leaned softly against Scott. He put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me in for a kiss. I relaxed under his touch and let him deepen the kiss, enjoying the bittersweet taste of wine on his tongue.
Scott pulled away and polished off the glass, setting it down with a decisive thump. He took my hand in his and pulled me to my feet.
“Whatcha doing?” I asked, my slurred words betraying just how much of the Cabernet I’d had.
“Dessert.” He smirked, nodding his head toward the stairs.
Somewhat in spite of myself, I giggled. I let Scott lead the way, practically dragging me up the stairs and into his bedroom. He sat down on the bed, and I took a seat next to him without even waiting for any instructions.
He ran his fingers through my hair, a satisfied smile on his face. I leaned into his touch, letting out a soft sigh. Things weren’t perfect, no, not for myself or for Scott. But there was something in this strange relationship that just worked for the two of us. I couldn’t explain it, even though I was sure the day was coming when I would have to explain it somehow.
But it wasn’t the time to think about that. Right then, I just wanted to enjoy what little time I had with him.
Scott cupped my cheek and gave me a soft kiss. It quickly deepened, Scott nudging me onto my back and crawling on top of me. When he finally pulled back, he stroked my cheek and smiled down at me. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.” It felt good to say those words and actually see his face. To see that he meant it just as much as I did.
He trailed his hand down the side of my neck, but slowly, letting it come to rest on my chest, just over my heart.
“So gentle tonight,” I remarked. With a little bit of a smirk, I asked, “You feeling okay?”
He nudged me with his knee, but he was smirking, too. “Just shut up and enjoy it.”
“Oh, I am,” I giggled. “Just slightly afraid that you’ve been replaced by an alien or something.”
“Nope.” Scott chuckled and shook his head, then gave me a bit more of a serious look. “We’ve got time now, so we don’t have to cut straight to playtime. I kinda like being able to just be together. You complaining?”
“No.” I shook my head vigorously. “Not complaining at all.”
“Good.” Scott punctuated the short sentence with a kiss on my neck.
“Yeah…” I breathed out, stretching to get closer to him. “Not complaining a bit.”
Scott pulled back, and reached for the small lock I wore around my neck. It was tangled in with the rest of my necklaces well enough to disguise it from most anyone else who looked at me, but of course Scott found it with no trouble at all.
“What?” I asked, eyeing him.
“You like wearing this?”
I nodded. “Mhm. I do.”
“Good,” he replied, kissing my neck softly again. “Did you do your homework?”
“Yeah… I did some reading…” I breathed out.
“What’d you find out?” He asked, looking up and locking eyes with me.
“Well, umm…” I felt my cheeks heating up again. “There was some stuff about, you know, formal collars?”
“Oh, yeah?” Scott asked, his eyes widening a bit.
“Yeah,” I replied, nodding slowly. “I mean, I guess that’s… that’s kinda the next step?”
“Usually, yeah,” Scott said softly. “If the couple’s ready for that.”
“Yeah…” I echoed, my mouth going a bit dry. Formal collaring, as I had learned, didn’t necessarily mean marriage, but it certainly could and often did. I had stored my ring safely in my suitcase for this weekend, but surely Scott hadn’t forgotten that I still had a wife.
“And what did you think about that?” He asked, planting some very distracting kisses on my neck. They almost cleared my mind of those dark thoughts, but not quite.
“I think… I think I need to think about that a little more?” I managed to squeak out. “It’s a big step.”
“Not saying we’re there yet,” Scott said, pausing to plant another kiss further down my neck, popping the top button of my shirt. “But maybe… we could work towards it?”
I could do little more than nod. Of course I wanted that. Of course I wanted to work toward being happy and free to be with him, and only him. And when he kissed me, I could almost convince myself that would be simple and easy to achieve.
“Yeah,” I finally managed to reply. “Yeah, I think we could.”
Scott gave me the biggest, most genuine smile I had ever seen from him. His hand creeping back up to cup my cheek, he said, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I replied.
And for just a moment, I could believe that love was enough and that nothing else at all mattered.