Spotlight by Eden Finley Page 0,57
to pour my heart out to Lyric. I want to explain how one awkward night changed my life forever. “When it happened, I was home after an Eleven tour visiting my lovely homophobic parents in Texas.”
“Wait, you’re from Texas? Where’s your sexy Southern accent?”
“You think Eleven’s vocal coaches didn’t practically beat it out of me?” Vocal coaching is a real form of torture. It took months for me to lose my twang and about a year for me to stop naturally returning to it.
“Wow.” Lyric looks worried.
“Not that you’d let them anyway, but labels wouldn’t change your perfect California-boy accent.”
Lyric shakes his head. “Sorry. This industry stuff still surprises me when it shouldn’t. What’s wrong with a Southern accent? You’d think that would be cute and marketable.”
“In Nashville, maybe. Anyway, back in Texas, I wanted out of the house and away from Mom and Pop’s views on how the band’s stylists enjoyed making us all dress gay.”
“Wait, there’s a gay dress code? Is this why I can’t find a relationship? I dress wrong?”
“It’s exactly why. Didn’t you get the memo in the monthly newsletter?”
“Maybe I should check my spam folder.”
“Maybe. It’s kind of crazy how it all happened. The paparazzi hadn’t found me at home yet, so for the first time in a few years, I was free to leave the house and do what I wanted without anyone there telling me not to. It was way past dinnertime, and it was dark, but I wanted out. I walked to the local playground and saw a figure on the swings. I pulled my hood up, but she’d already spotted me. There was little Maggie Costa grinning at me. We’d gone to the same schools since first grade, and it was weird to go from my life of fame straight into the past.”
“Please tell me your daughter was conceived on a playground. That’s so dirty and cool.”
Yup. So romantic. “It would’ve made an awesome rom-com if not for one very glaringly obvious problem.”
“The fact you prefer dudes?”
“Exactly. She was the first woman I’d been with since Eleven’s first year on tour. Sex with women was always hit-or-miss for me. Should’ve been a big clue, right? It wasn’t until I started messing around with guys in the industry who I knew would be discreet that my sexuality started making sense. Even if I still don’t have a label for it, it makes sense to me.”
“That’s the only thing that matters,” Lyric says, and I can hear how genuine he is come through in his soft voice.
“Anyway, Maggie. She was visiting after a deployment. She’d lost someone close to her over there, so she was a mess, and we got to talking about our lives. She dumped her depressing shit on me. I told her she made me feel like a spoiled diva, then she said, ‘You’re still just Ryder to me.’ That was pretty much all it took.”
“Ooh, I’m putting this sex weapon in my back pocket for later.”
“Sex weapon?”
“Yeah, it’s like a magic word. Instead of Abracadabra, it’s Just Ryder.”
I wish I could say it doesn’t do anything for me when he’s mocking me, but I’d be lying.
Lyric chuckles. “I still can’t believe you got freaky on a playground. You’re lucky you weren’t arrested or that someone didn’t see it and sell photos to the tabloids.”
I lean back on the soft cushions and rest my head against the backrest of the couch. “Although, if that’d happened, it might’ve dispelled some rumors about my sexuality.”
“Pretty sure it only would’ve welcomed more. Ryder Kennedy, Sex Addict. I can see the headlines now.”
The buzzer for the front gate sounds, so I stand. “I would say you’re wrong, but that’s probably an accurate depiction of what it would’ve been like had we been caught.”
I collect the food from the front door and tip the guy generously. I’ve found most places are cool with the celebrity thing and don’t run their mouths if they’re paid well and know we’ll be repeat customers.
When I get back to the formal living room, Lyric’s sitting there with a contemplative stare.
“What’s up?” I lay the Styrofoam boxes from my favorite café out on the coffee table with two plates and sit on the floor.
Lyric stays on the couch still looking spaced-out.
“Lyric?”
He snaps out of whatever it is and sinks to the floor next to me. “We should play a game while we eat.”
“A game?”
“Yeah. All you have to do is say myth or fact to the following tabloid stories.”
“Here we