to be tearing
him apart.
“I know you’re right,” Charlie said eventually. “You’re all right.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Cancel tonight’s gig.” He didn’t sound even remotely happy about it. He sucked in a deep breath. “But I need to
be honest about why, and that’s gonna be hard.”
It was, especially when he was already drained. “I’ll come,” I said.
“What?”
“Paris isn’t far.” I got up to get my laptop.
“Austin—”
“I need to be there with you.”
It would work the same as when I’d gone to Copenhagen. I’d get the next available flight. One of Charlie’s
bodyguards would meet me, and then I’d shift, hide in my bag, and get taken into the hotel. I probably wouldn’t
be there before he spoke to the media, but I’d be there afterwards to hold him.
“No,” Charlie said firmly.
That brought me to a halt. “What?”
“It’s not that I don’t want you to come.” His voice had lost the fire of seconds earlier. “I do, desperately. But can
you imagine what would happen if you got caught? If we got caught?”
I stood still, my hand still reaching out to the laptop I hadn’t managed to pick up. I felt paralysed.
“Charlie Faire cancels concert in favour of booty call,” Charlie said as though he were reading a newspaper
headline. “That would be the worst possible way for our relationship to become public, Austin.”
He was right, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to fly out the door to get to him and support him.
“And I know you don’t want Jesse finding out that way,” Charlie went on. “We have to control the narrative,
remember?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“In a couple of weeks or so, the twins’ adoption will be final. That’s when you were going to tell Jesse, right?”
I made an affirmative noise deep in my throat.
“And once Jesse knows, we can tell everyone else in our own time, on our own terms. Let’s not take any
chances until then, okay?”
“You mean any more chances?”
“Yeah.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Answer my call when I ring?”
“I’ll be here, surgically attached to my phone.”
Charlie laughed softly.
“Call me whenever you need.”
“I will,” he promised. “I need to go now. There’s stuff to arrange. Thanks, Austin. I love you.”
The phone went dead. I pressed my hands over my eyes, but it wasn’t enough to stop myself from crying. Being
on the other end of the phone wasn’t good enough. I should have been there with him, supporting him through
making one of the hardest, bravest decisions of his life.
8
Charlie
Waiting for press conferences to start was never fun, but on this occasion, it was ramping up my stress levels to
no end. My first decision had been whether or not to wear make-up to make myself look less drained. Believe it
or not, it was a tough decision. If I did wear make-up, would my fake healthy complexion make my ‘story’ less
credible? If I didn’t, would it look like I was vying for a sympathy vote? Or maybe I was overthinking things. In the
end, I opted not to wear any. For once, I needed people to see me, not a fake, enhanced version of myself.
Robin was not happy. Nor was Flannigan, but at least he wasn’t there. I could take being shouted at over the
phone. Well, he’d tried to shout at me, but the call had been ended by Greg.
“He doesn’t get to talk to you like a piece of shit he’s scraped off his shoe,” Greg had said as he’d handed me
back my phone.
I got it. Cancelling a concert was a PR nightmare. I was letting down twenty thousand fans. Not only that, but it
would shake everyone’s confidence in me. Would I cancel more concerts on this tour? Would I be reliable enough
for venues to want to book me in the future? Then there was the financial impact. The fans would get their money
back, but the venue and Phoenix would take a hit, even with insurance.
“You don’t have to make the statement yourself,” Greg said as I sat waiting for the conference room in the hotel
to fill up with reporters and camera crews. “Let Robin handle it.”
It would have been easy to take his advice and slink away. I wanted to curl up in a ball. I was still exhausted and
wrung out. My muscles were sore from the seizures. I could have happily slept for a couple more days. I was
pretty sure Greg and the others would have let me if they could. But