Long Live

On the first day of filming our “King for a Day” music video, I realize that I’ve got a crush on Kellin Quinn.

It happens while he’s filming his singing bit on top of an office desk, alone, and the rest of us are watching him from the side. My friend and bandmate, Jaime, calls out a teasing “You suck!” It’s all casual, just a simple music video to go with our latest single. Or, at least, that’s what it’s supposed to be.

As I’m looking at Kellin, something about him just sort of catches my attention all of a sudden—maybe it’s the hair, maybe it’s how good he looks in a suit, maybe it’s the motions he does with his hands; hell, maybe it’s his ass. I’ve got this weird feeling, like I’ve just been physically struck by something, because that’s how stunned I am by my own thought process.

I’ve got a crush on this guy, don’t I?

I try to keep my cool, convincing myself that, yeah, it’s probably just the suit. To distract myself, I turn towards a nearby camera—we’re planning to release a behind-the-scenes video of our filming days after we release the actual music video—and talk into it.

"I’m seeing Kellin’s performance right now," I say, "and I’m getting a little nervous." It’s not even a lie. “‘Cause, uh…"

Jaime turns to me. “He’s killing it?”

"He’s killing it right now," I agree. And he is.

Jaime distracts me by talking into the camera about his “heist” dream in relation to the plot of this music video, in which Kellin and I work at a bank and end up in a plan to steal a bunch of money that our boss has smuggled. We’re so busy talking and joking about it that I almost forget about Kellin for the moment. Almost.

He comes over to me after his singing bit and starts talking about his performance. I can feel my heart beating faster just at his presence, as if he can magically tell that I’m thinking about how fucking attractive he is.

I’d say I cover it up pretty well, though; we both still talk and joke without any problem like we usually do. He did a bit of an “air-scream” into his own fist while on camera, as if holding an imaginary microphone or something, and as we’re laughing about that, he says, “It might be kind of dumb or it might be kind of cool; I didn’t—I didn’t know. I was just doing what I do in my bedroom, y’know?”

"Right," I say, but that last bit seems to take on a whole different meaning. Goddammit.

The scenes in the office cubicles are fun to film, and Kellin, of course, acts like a total dork the whole time. I’ve always found it endearing, but now it’s more than that—it’s adorable as hell. I need to get a grip.

"I’m here with my boy…my boy Kellin here," I say into the camera at one point, putting my arm around him. It feels completely natural, but I can’t help but wonder if it’ll look weird to other people.

By the end of the day, though, nobody seems to notice anything strange going on. That’s good. I need to figure out my own emotions.

Kellin and I have only really known each other for less than a year. We got together to record a song called “King for a Day” for my band, Pierce the Veil, and our new album, Collide With the Sky. His band, Sleeping With Sirens, has also been on Warped Tour with us, and we’re just finishing that up. Throughout all this, we’ve only been good friends, nothing more. Neither of us have girlfriends, but I’m pretty sure he’s straight anyways. I never even thought about it until now.

(Okay, that’s a lie. There was one time when Kellin took his shirt off while performing “King for a Day” with us, and I may or may not have had a thought about what it would be like to have sex with him. But that was one time.)

I lie awake that night, thinking of him, trying to sort out my brain. It’s just a crush, I tell myself as I fall asleep. It’ll go away eventually. It’s just a crush. It’s just temporary.

That’s what starts it all.

—

A couple months later, in October 2012, our band kicks off the Collide With The Sky Tour. Tonight Alive and Hands Like Houses are joining us, along with…well, none other than Sleeping With Sirens, of course. This is when I realize that, no, my crush on Kellin Quinn is definitely not as temporary as I thought it would be.

I can’t keep my eyes off of him, for one thing. It doesn’t matter whether we’re completely alone or onstage together, on-camera or off-camera. I think that sometimes I try too hard to pretend I’m not staring at him, which just makes things even worse.

I can’t seem to ever completely relax myself around him, either, though we still act like the really good friends we are, and I also can’t seem to stop embarrassing myself in front of him. It ranges from just making stupid and nonsensical jokes to accidentally calling him hot to tripping over my own feet and knocking over a bunch of equipment. Kellin just seems to think it’s funny, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. I have to get my shit together.

"Are you alright, Vic?" asks Jenna, from Tonight Alive. We’ve just finished another show, and now we’re all mostly just hanging out backstage. "You seem kind of off lately."

"Uh, yeah, I’m fine—"

My words are cut off by a pair of arms wrapping around me from behind and a familiar voice in my ear: “Hey, great job out there! We should throw a party.”

Jenna smiles at me in amusement as I turn my head to face Kellin, who, as usual, has a stupid grin on his face. I seriously have to refrain from kissing him right there—he’s just so close, and his body is all warm from performing, and he’s still sweaty as hell, and fuck, I’ve got it so bad for this guy. I think Jenna can tell, and I know that everyone in my band can, too.

"What kind of party?" I ask Kellin, trying not to show how much I hate it when he pulls away from me.

"I don’t know. A dance party." He nods. "Yeah. I like that idea. I’ll get everybody on board with it, I promise." At that, he’s off, talking to other people loudly and quickly and with endless energy. He’s got music playing before I can even comprehend what’s going on, and all of a sudden, somehow, it’s as though Kellin has sparked an impromptu partying vibe in almost everyone here. I don’t understand how he does it, but it’s just how he is. Everything about him is infectious. He’s a leader, an entertainer. I mean, both of us being lead singers, I guess I am, too, but not as much as him. For him, it’s in everything he does—the way he walks, the way he talks, the way he thinks…he was born for this. He’s like a hero on a history book page, always holding his head up high.

In one of the more open areas, people have actually started dancing, even a few of the crew members. And right in the middle of it all is Kellin himself, taking people’s hands, moving, spinning, twisting, and laughing while he does it. “Hey, Vic, you should dance with me!” he calls, gesturing for me to come over to him.

I’m not much for dancing, but with a request like that, what can I do but agree?

My hand is probably clammy when he takes it in his own, but we’re both already dripping with sweat anyways, so it doesn’t really matter. “I—I don’t know how to dance,” I say awkwardly.

"It’s okay," Kellin replies. "Me neither."

So we dance, and a voice in the back of my mind tells me, Remember this moment. And, oddly enough, it’s this random moment that sends me over the edge, from a minor crush to something more. I can feel it in the way he looks at me and touches me: Our lives aren’t going to be the same after this tour. And I think he knows it, too.

—

From there, it’s all over for me. Every day I fall for him more and more. It’s not just that he’s attractive anymore; it’s that he’s confident and sweet and funny and smart and enthusiastic, and everything about him is mesmerizing to me. I used to be so calm and collected around him back in July, but now, he makes my heart skip beats.

Especially right now. It’s been happening during every single performance—we’re playing “King for a Day” together, and Kellin is jumping around onstage while I stay in the same place with my guitar. He comes back over and stands right beside me as we alternate our lines, his breath in my ear and his body dangerously close to mine. My heart is beating a thousand miles an hour, and the crowd is singing along with our every word, a sound I know I’ll never get tired of hearing. We’re all breathless and dripping sweat, but we don’t care because this is what we live for. We live for the music we create, how alive we feel when we play songs that we’ve worked so hard on, when it’s so loud that we can feel it in our chests. I’ve decided that I have the best job in the world.

When we finish off the song, Kellin leans in close to me, a contemplating look on his face. It’s so distracting that I almost mess my words up as I’m talking to the crowd. He doesn’t stop looking at me like that as we end our set, and it’s only once we’re all backstage that he dares to take my hand in his and pull me away from the rest of the group.

"What is it?" I ask.

He bites his lip, only making eye contact with me for a brief moment before glancing away. He’s acting almost…shy. It doesn’t make much sense to me. He’s Kellin Quinn. Kellin Quinn is never shy.

"Uh…Kellin?" I say slowly. "Is something wrong?"

He shakes his head at that, smiling a little in faint amusement. “No,” he says. “In fact, I think it’s quite the opposite.”

Before I can react, he pulls me closer to him and presses his lips to mine, delicately, tentatively, as if he’s almost afraid. For a moment, I can barely breathe, can barely think, can barely comprehend the fact that Kellin Quinn is kissing me. Then I seem to return to my senses and find myself kissing back, both of us soft and gentle and hesitant as he reaches up and lightly cups my face in his hands.

Something that people should probably know about Kellin Quinn is that he is not a very gentle person. Generally, he is clumsy and reckless and obnoxious and loud. But the thing is, he’s careful with me, and I can’t help but feel sort of special because of that.

Our blissful trance is broken when he pulls away quickly, abruptly, that contemplating look back on his face as he stares at me. “Fuck,” he says, mostly to himself.

"What is it?" I ask for the second time. "Kellin?"

He shakes his head, messing with his hair and looking away from me again. “Nothing,” he says. “It’s nothing. It’s…I don’t know what it is.” He sighs, finally meeting my gaze. “I’m sorry for that.”

I narrow my eyes in confusion. “For…kissing me?”

He shakes his head. “No. For ruining it.”

"Well…it’s not too late to fix it," I point out, hoping he’ll take the hint.

He nods thoughtfully. “You’re right.” And then he kisses me again.

We might be moving slowly and calmly, but my insides have been anything but calm since he came back onstage to sing “King for a Day” with us. It’s more than sparks that are flying between our lips—it’s an entire fireworks show. My heart doesn’t know how much more of this it can take, but that’s okay; I think “Death By Kellin Quinn” would be a pretty interesting thing to write on my gravestone.

This kiss doesn’t last as long, unfortunately, because out of nowhere comes the voice of the Sleeping With Sirens bassist, Justin, calling out, “Ha! I told you! I knew he’d do it today! Now pay up, all of you!”

Kellin and I break away, Kellin staring at Justin in disbelief as the rest of the band comes forward with twenty dollars each. “I thought he’d be in denial for a little bit longer,” complains Jesse, the rhythm guitarist.

"Justin," Kellin says. "Did you guys bet on me or something?"

Justin grins. “Yep. By the way you were looking at Vic, I thought today would be the day that you finally got up the nerve to kiss him. They all disagreed, but, see, I knew. I knew. ‘Cause I know you, Kellin.”

Kellin blushes, well and truly embarrassed for once in his life. “Fuck you guys,” he says, rushing out of the room.

"Shit," Justin mutters.

Jesse shakes his head. “He’s just being moody, I think. You can’t really blame him. He’ll be fine.”

—

Kellin and I don’t talk about it at all. We don’t ignore each other, really; we just avoid it, acting completely normal and pretending that it never happened. Everyone else seems to know about it by now, but nobody says anything. I think they can tell that this is something the two of us need to figure out for ourselves.

I can’t help but be cautiously optimistic, though. Kellin always seems to be dropping hints, whether he knows it or not—brushing up against me every so often, staring at me (or, more specifically, my lips), always choosing to spend time with me over anyone else…I never knew him to be the bashful or subtle type, but maybe this is different.

I’ve tried dropping some hints, too, disguising them all as random, teasing gestures. One night while we’re hanging out backstage, Kellin is saying something (I’m not quite sure what) in front of a camera—he’s being filmed by a guy that interviewed us earlier today—when I pop up beside him and start puckering my lips right next to his cheek, making kissing noises and then sticking my tongue out. He stops what he’s doing and turns to me, a dumb grin on his face, and for a split second, something more seems to pass between us before we both laugh and return to normal. It’s such a stupid little thing, but at least it’s something.

Now it’s the last night of the tour, Las Vegas, and it’s finally hitting me that we’re going to have to say goodbye. I’m going to miss everyone once we all head back to our hometowns. I don’t think about it that much until when we perform “Hold On Till May”—Jenna has been performing as the guest vocalist on this tour, but today, Whakaio, another member of Tonight Alive, pranks us by running onstage and singing the part instead. He’s wearing nothing but a bikini and a bright green wig, since Jenna’s hair is dyed green. The whole scene is so ridiculous, and the rest of us are just laughing hysterically, and my face hurts from smiling so much, and that’s the moment when I realize just how much I’m going to miss this.

After the end of the show, I pull Kellin aside and into another room, my heart pounding. I have to talk to him about what happened. We can’t just ignore this forever, can we?

"What’s up?" he asks casually, though I can tell that he’s a bit nervous. He knows what this is about.

"I think we need to talk about…you know what," I say bluntly.

"What do you mean?" He’s playing dumb.

"I mean that one time when you decided to introduce your lips to mine," I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Kellin bites his lip. “Vic,” he says, “I’d love it if we could just…pretend it never happened. If we could pretend that nothing ever happened between us, really.”

I think I’ve heard him wrong. “Are—are you serious?”

He nods gravely. “I’m sorry, okay? I want us to just be friends. But I got a little carried away on this tour. I did some things I shouldn’t have done, implied some things I shouldn’t have implied…”

”Implied?” I repeat. “Like what?”

He sighs, looking down at his feet before glancing back up at me. “Like that we could ever have something. Because we can’t, Vic. I can’t do that.”

I just stare at him in shock. “Why not?” I say, my voice cracking slightly. I can’t believe him. I can’t believe he’s trying to tell me that this was all for nothing.

"I just can’t do it," he snaps, glaring at me, but I can see the pain and fear behind his anger. "I’m not gonna let myself make that mistake again. I’m sorry. I got too attached to you. So maybe it would be for the best if we just…took a break for a while."

He steps forward and places a gentle kiss on my forehead, seeming to calm down a little and gazing affectionately into my eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Maybe we can do this again sometime. Just…not right now. Not when I’m such a mess.” He gives me a tiny smile that I think is supposed to be comforting.

I nod slowly, just trying to understand. That’s how the Collide With The Sky Tour ends for me—with an unexplained goodbye, a rejection that tears at my heart, and the faint promise that we can start it over again one day.

—

Two years—that’s how much time passes. It’s late 2014 now, but it’s not over yet. Sleeping With Sirens and Pierce the Veil are traveling together again on what has been titled simply The World Tour.

Kellin and I are sitting together in the same room, about to film an announcement video together. Kellin is still the same cute, funny dork I fell in love with all that time ago, and I almost can’t handle being around him again. It’s kind of tiring, really, keeping up with all his excitement and energy. But it’s nice.

Okay, it’s more than just nice.

You’d think it would be more awkward after how the last tour ended, but surprisingly, it hasn’t been that difficult to interact with him or any of the other guys. It’s as if we’re really getting a fresh start, and I want to make it right this time.

The day that Kellin and I announce the tour, both of our bands also end up at the Alternative Press Music Awards (which involve things like Brendon Urie singing Frank Sinatra, Pete Wentz picking up Patrick Stump, and Tyler Joseph climbing on top of the stage). We kick off the first leg in early November, and it’s only when I’m standing in front of the crowd with Kellin by my side that I realize, all over again, just how much I live for this.

And just how much I missed doing it with Kellin.

These past two years, I’ve been trying so hard to forget about him, to let go of my feelings for him, but I think I’ve always known deep down that I’ll never completely fall out of love with him. I can’t. He’s already made himself a place in my heart, whether he knows it or not. And now that proves to be true.

Nobody talks about what happened between us. We just pretend that there was nothing going on in 2012, and it works. We all get along perfectly. Everything is good…except it’s not.

I’m starting to fall for Kellin Quinn. Again.

I can’t help it. It’s as if no time has passed, as if nothing has changed. It brings back all those old emotions that I tried so hard to bury long ago. I think Kellin knows it, too.

But this time, he’s keeping his distance. He still hangs out with me, and we’re still close friends, but I can see him making an effort not to get too attached, not to slip up like he did last time. He’s trying to form boundaries when there weren’t any before. I can respect that, but it still hurts.

Fuck. I thought I was over this.

One day on the tour bus, we’re driving to our next destination when Mike, my brother and our drummer, starts playing “Still Into You” by Paramore from his phone. He grins at me as we’re sitting across from each other in the main area. “You should sing this to Kellin,” he says, mimicking the song: “‘Cause after all this time, I’m still into you…”

I flip him off, feeling my face heat up. “You’re an asshole.”

"And you’re gay for Kellin Quinn. And the sky is blue."

"Not today," Jaime calls, popping his head out of his bunk. He’s got a point—today is a very cloudy, gray, not-blue day.

Mike snorts. “Whatever. You know I’m right. Long live the gay.”

—

It happens at a hotel.

A few of us have just come back from a night out in the city, and now we’re headed back to our rooms. “I think everybody in the band ended up crashing in one room without me,” Kellin says, laughing, after everyone else has gone to their respective rooms and we’re the only ones left in the hall. “I want to show you something real quick.” Before I can respond, he takes my hand and leads me over to his room, which was supposed to have a few other people in it, but he’s right—it seems to be empty. Of course.

"What do you want to show me?" I ask, stepping into the room and closing the door behind us. "Is it a new song or something?"

Kellin turns around, his wide grin slowly fading into a look I know all too well. It’s the look that he makes when he’s thinking deeply, trying to make a decision.

"Kellin," I say slowly. "Are you okay?"

He shrugs. “The truth is, I don’t fucking know.” Then he steps forward, lightly pushing me back against the door, and kisses me.

This time, I react almost immediately, kissing him back and pulling him even closer to me. I’ve been without these lips for two long years. I thought I’d never feel them against mine again.

"I’ve missed you," Kellin says breathlessly, pulling away slightly. "I’ve been trying so hard, but I can’t stay away from you. I just can’t."

"Then don’t," I say.

He stares at me for a few more seconds before finally nodding. “Okay. Yeah.”

And then we’re kissing again, and I don’t know how it happens, but somehow we end up on one of the beds, and it feels like I’ve been hopelessly pining after him for forever, and now he’s here, and his lips are on my skin, and we’re tangled up in hotel bed sheets, and there is nothing else that matters outside of this room, of this building, of this city, and it’s all gentle touches and soft whispers and—

I’ve been having some writer’s block lately, but with this one night, this one moment, Kellin is giving me the material to write the best goddamn album of my life.

—

Everything is good for a while. Kellin and I don’t explicitly state that we’re dating now, but I think everyone already sort of knows. I can’t help but feel like I’m on top of the world, and I think Kellin feels the same way. Most of the first leg is pure bliss, utter perfection.

But then…

Then, the downfall. The deluge.

Kellin gets a phone call while we’re hanging out backstage after another one of our shows. He steps into another room to take it, and a few minutes later, he steps back out and tells me to come with him.

"Okay," I say slowly when we’re alone in the room and the door is closed. "What is it?"

He takes a deep breath. “So, a girl called me,” he says. “A girl that I’ve been friends with for…a while. We, um…we had sex not long before this tour kicked off, okay? One-night stand. Didn’t really mean anything.”

My heart is starting to beat faster. “Okay…”

"And, um…fuck. She’s pregnant, Vic."

I try to keep my jaw from dropping. “Holy shit. I—what are you saying?”

But I think I already know what he’s saying.

"She doesn’t want to get rid of the baby. And neither do I. I’m not romantically attracted to her, but I’ve wanted a kid for so long, and she’s gonna have the baby no matter what, and I feel so wrong leaving her to deal with it by herself, and I want to be there for it because my dad was never there for me and I—" He winces, shaking his head. "And I don’t know if we can keep doing this."

I don’t want to believe what I’m hearing, but if there’s one thing I know about Kellin, it’s that this is something he’s passionate about. He would choose his kid over his lover in a heartbeat, if he can’t have both. And it looks like that’s exactly what he has just done.

"Can’t we just—I don’t know—isn’t there some way you can do both? Date me and still be a parent to that kid? There’s gotta be something, right?"

But he’s giving me the same look that he gave me on the last day of the Collide With The Sky Tour, the look of pain…and fear. It’s the fear that catches me.

"Kellin, what the fuck are you so afraid of?" I ask, my voice cracking. I can’t break down now. I can’t.

"I’m afraid of us,” Kellin says. “I’m afraid of coming out as bi. I’m afraid of—and this is gonna sound so stupid and stereotypical and I’m sorry—I’m afraid of commitment, Vic. There. I said it. It’s what held me back two years ago, and it’s what’s holding me back now. I would rather just be with this girl, because I’m not emotionally invested in her, because it won’t break me if we don’t work out or if something bad happens. I’m terrified of being with you, Vic, and I thought I could do it, I really did, and I was so scared the night that I kissed you—both the first time and the second—and I’ve been so scared this whole fucking tour, but I thought maybe it could work out, but it can’t, and I’m sorry, and I just…” He steps forward and kisses me, and it’s almost as if I can feel all his mixed emotions through his lips.

He pulls away after only a few seconds, but just as he turns around and is about to walk away from me, I call, “Wait.”

He glances at me over his shoulder, stopping in his tracks. “What?”

"Can we…can we stay together for the rest of this tour?" I ask. "Can we at least just try? If there’s a way for you to be with me and still raise your kid with this girl—it’s almost 2015; there has to be something we can do—would you be willing to try it? Take a risk with me. Please. Even if it’s just for a little while."

Kellin stares at me for the longest time, and then he nods slowly. “Okay,” he says softly, turning back around and making his way towards me. “I’ll try. Okay? For you, Vic.”

I don’t know when I started crying, but it seems that the tears are falling steadily down my cheeks, and he reaches forward to gently wipe them away. I don’t remember the last time I cried like this.

I’m crying because I knew this would happen, I knew I’d get hurt, but I fell for him again anyway. I’m crying because I think I hate everything, but most of all I hate Kellin for fucking with me this way, but at the same time I don’t hate him at all, and it’s not even his fault, not really. I’m crying because we had it so good for that brief amount of time, and now it’s about to be ripped away from me. I’m crying because the man I see in front of me, the man I fell in love with, is a man drowning in his own problems and deep-seated fears, a man who acts so confident when he’s really just confused and insecure and uncertain and breaking down and fucking terrified, and I think I knew all this deep down, but I refused to acknowledge it.

"Kellin," I say, "if this doesn’t work out…when your kid asks about your job, or why you’re always gone because you’re on tour…tell them about me. About this. About ‘King for a Day’ and the Collide With The Sky Tour and The World Tour and everything. About what it feels like to perform, and the crowds…"

He nods. “I will,” he says. “One day, Vic. No matter what. One day, I’ll tell them everything.”

—

It’s the last night of the first leg—we’re in Vegas, once again—and I can truly say that I am on top of the world.

The crowd is roaring, the music is blasting, notes spewing out of my fingertips and lyrics spilling out of my mouth. Kellin is right next to me once again, and when he’s onstage, I see not one inkling of the paralyzing fear that almost seems to consume him. He is not the broken down mess that I’ve seen before when he’s screaming his lungs out to thousands of people. He’s the confident history book hero I always saw him as back in 2012. And it’s incredible, really, to watch a person change like that. Even if it’s just for tonight.

The thing about performing “King for a Day” with Kellin is the fact that it makes me feel just like the title suggests—like we are kings of the world, a ragtag team of people that just want to create music and share it with anyone willing to listen. And it seems that there are a lot of people willing to listen.

I think the reason it’s better with Kellin is because the song doesn’t really feel complete without him. Even if someone else takes his place (or if I just sing the whole song), it will never compare to what it feels like to hear his voice mixed in with my own. It makes me feel like we really are on top of the world, trading beanies and baseball caps for crowns of gold. It makes me feel like we’ve left some sort of mark, like we’ll be remembered. This feeling, this moment—it means everything to me.

When we finish off the song, our signature confetti falling to the ground, I turn to him and find that he’s grinning like crazy, showing all his teeth. I can see it right there, a hope glimmering like a faint light, a word on the very tips of our tongues. Maybe.

This is only the end of the first leg, which means we’ll be back together in January for round two. I don’t know what it is, exactly, that developed Kellin’s fear of emotional attachment, but I think I can see him slowly starting to let go of it. I don’t know how it’s going to work if he decides that he wants me in his life, but we’ll figure that out when we get there. If we get there. And though I don’t like to be too optimistic, I think we’re going to get there.

"I told you I was right," Mike says as we’re walking off the stage. "You and Kellin are so in love." He makes a dramatic sort of gesture with his hands. "The kings. Long live the gays."

It’s only said as a joke, but that last phrase sticks with me: Long live. It seems oddly appropriate.

Kellin wraps his arm around my waist, cautious but certain, and I know that I’ll be okay as long as I get to have this. Even if something happens, even if we have another fallout, I will still always have this short but perfect moment, along with many others, like the night when we danced, or the night we had sex in a hotel bed—memories to keep me warm when I’m sleeping alone.

The goofy smile is back on his face, and my heart swells when I look at him. “Are you okay?” I ask.

He nods. “Vic Fuentes,” he says, sounding completely amazed, “I had the time of my life with you.” Then he kisses me softly, right in front of everyone backstage. “Maybe we can figure something out.”

And that’s enough for me to decide: No matter what happens to us, it was worth it, falling in love with Kellin Quinn. It’s that one word, hanging in the air like a question mark. A possibility.

Maybe.

Just maybe.