Thriving in Secret

Our first kiss was never meant to be.
In fact, our whole… relationship, for want of a better word, was never meant to be.
One crazy, drunk night, releasing everything we’d been hiding –from ourselves and everyone else. It wasn’t the most passionate kiss, or even the longest, but after that, things with us have never been the same. A brush of my hand against his, looking like nothing more than an accident to any innocent bystander, but sending electric currents through both of us.

Our first kiss was right after our first big show.
Sometimes, when Jack has gotten on my last nerve, I still chalk it up to performance highs and alcohol. But then Jack will look at me with those sweet eyes and I’d understand that it was so much more, something that we’d never fully understand.

Playing an actual show was very different than playing a tiny bar show. For one, we had to understand that these people were here for us. They love our music and want to see us live, rather than just ending up at the bar that we were playing at that night.
We were all determined to give these guys the show of their lives.
Of course, this meant that everyone in the band was at least slightly buzzed on alcohol before the show – calm the nerves and all. I must admit that I might have been slightly more drunk than everyone else. What can I say? I’m the frontman, and that Jägermeister, my drink of choice, is potent stuff.

Five drinks each and one pep talk later, we werewalking strutting on to stage. Looking out on the crowd, screaming for us, we all had a certain better-than-you air to us. Better than that was the attention we got as I introduced us, and the captivated crowd’s eyes as we broke into our first song.
It was halfway through the show when I decided that there was nothing better than playing for a crowd. At least, that’s what I thought then.

****

Needless to say we were soaring with elation when we exited the stage, ready to get shitface drunk and do whatever real bands did after shows.
High-fives all around. Here we come, the all-American dream.
It was Zack’s idea to go to a little club that he insisted was amazing, about five minutes away from our venue.
That’s how we ended up at the Cat’s Meow, which I must say, lived up to everyone’s expectations. It had this modern, edgy, kind of hip air to it, with a huge dance floor and amazing bar.

Rian and Zack both made a bee-line towards the dance floor, where there was quite a selection of half-naked women gyrating around. Jack held back for a minute, long enough to let out a low whistle and say, “God, is there some hotties here.” And followed Rian and Zack through the crowd.

I, on the other hand, stood near the entrance, trying to figure out what was wrong. The adrenaline that had been running through my veins, as an after affect of the amazing show, was suddenly gone. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into my bed and sleep for a long time. It was a strange feeling, since I’d been the life of the party for as long as I could remember. I couldn’t decide what triggered the sudden drain of life. The only solution I saw was to pour copious amounts of alcohol down my throat and hope that that would make everything better.

****

It was nearly an hour later, and my dark mood had not improved, rather, the abundant amounts of alcohol now flowing through my veins made it darker.
I was slumped in a bar stool, my elbows supporting my on the bar counter. I lifted one hand to the glass of vodka and Red Bull near me and put it to my lips, swallowing a few gulps before setting it down on the coaster in front of me and resuming my former position.
Just as I was about to stand up and find quiet corner to call a cab from, Jack came parading towards me, dragging a petite, big-busted, brunette behind him.

“Alex! Dude, where’ve you been? Have you been sitting here the whole time?” he exclaimed, sound only slightly drunk.
“Yeah, kinda. Listen Jack, I’m thinkin that I’m gonna…” I started to slur, before Jack leaned in and said into my ear, “Dude, look at Amy,” I supposed that Amy was the curvy brunette standing behind Jack, “Have I scored, or what?”
I tried to muster some enthusiasm towards Jack’s “scoring”, but in my drunken state, I could only manage to sink deeper into my black mood.
“Yeah, great,” I said sarcastically, but as drunk as I was, I don’t think it sounded very convincing.
Jack gave me a look that told me he understood the sarcasm under the drunken muttering. “What’s eating you?”
I wished that I could answer his question, but I wasn’t quite too sure myself. I’d began being all upset when we’d first entered the club, and everyone had gone off to dance except Jack, who’d stayed behind to say…

And then it dawned on me.
I was somehow, inexplicably jealous of the girls that Jack loved.
This made no sense whatsoever. For me to be envious, I would have to be attracted to Jack as more
than a friend. Which would make me… gay?
I immediately discarded that thought, as remembered all the girls I’d previously slept with. It wasn’t as though that was not enjoyable. No, as far as I recalled, sleeping with chicks was all too much fun.
But I didn’t want to sleep with Jack. It was more the feeling that I wanted to be loved by him, cared for and cuddled, which for me, was insane talking. I never wanted anything more from anyone but then to sleep with them.

Oh god.

“Dude, Alex?”
I snapped back to reality to see Jack waving his hand in front of my face.
“Yenno, Jack, I don’t feel well all of a sudden.” I leapt from my chair, slapped down a twenty on the counter to cover my drinks and practically sprinted from the club.
I flew out into thelate night early morning air. I continued my pace until I was about a block away from the club, when I finally sunk down onto the curb cradling my head in my hands.

I took deep breaths and tried to calm myself.
It was just the alcohol talking back there. No way was I in anyway attracted to Jack as anything more than a friend.
Or was I?
There were those time, late at night, when we were both drunk and decided to spill our guts to each other, leaving behind our silly personalities for more serious, honest people. Those were the times when Jack looks so vulnerable that I simply wanted to hug him.
But that was simply a friendly gesture, was it not?

Oh god.

I felt bile rise in my throat and I leaned over and threw up everything I’d eaten and drunk all day into the gutter, trying hard to aim away from my shoes. I heaved again, feeling relieved to get everything out of my system.
My head felt cleared and I decided resolutely never to think about possibly being in love with Jack. It was just something that would never happen. I was just gathering the strength to pull out my cell phone and call a cab, when I felt another person sit down on the curb next to me.

I looked over to see none other than Jack. Speak of the devil…
“Hey,” he said quietly.
I muttered something incomprehensible.
Jack looked at me for a minute and took a breath on before starting, “Alex, I’ve been thinking and there’s something I want to say –“
I cut him off. “Hey, yeah, sorry about what I did back there. It was stupid, I was drunk. I guess I’m kind of a lightweight - can’t handle alcohol!” I was painfully aware of how squeaky and fake my voice sounded. I guess the vodka wasn’t completely out of my system yet. Jack laughed, his eyes lighting up a bit. I smiled, but couldn’t decide where to look.
There was a certain thickness in the air, as though each of us had something hidden.

And then it happened.
One second he was laughing, his eyes joyful and the next his expression was serious. He fixed his eyes on me intently, and we simply looked at each other, waiting for either of us to get the guts to do what both of us wanted to do.

I’m not sure who made the first move, but somehow, I think we might have both moved at the exact same time. Before I realized it, our lips crashed together, forming a kiss.
At first, it was soft and tentative. We were both drunk, but not completely brain-dead. We knew it wasn’t exactly right, what we were doing. Then again, this might have been the most right thing we’ve done. There was a common hesitance between us. At first.
And then I comprehended what was happening, and decided that this was my chance to kiss Jack.
I put every ounce of energy behind the kiss, then suddenly, I pulled away, surprising both of us.

Oh God. What just happened?

“Jack, I’m so sorry. It’s just I’m drunk and…” I began.
He cut me off with another kiss that made me see stars and feel more than infinite. We could have been there for five seconds, or minutes, or even hours and I wouldn’t have noticed.

Oh God, this was a mistake.
Was it?

So, maybe that first time we were drunk and didn’t know what we were doing. Maybe we were hyped up on the exhilaration of performing in front of a real crowd. Maybe it was all those things, the first time.
But what about the second time?