I learned something I didn’t know from the vocal coach. I freely admit I knew only the rudiments of singing. You learn a little by osmosis in music school, even if you’re not in voice. I sang in my junior high school choir one year, too, and learned a little bit there. You know how it goes.
When I woke up Ziggy was wearing me like a cape. We were nowhere near the pillows, curled in the center of the bed, with my arms around his neck/shoulders and the rest of me draped over his back. I freed one arm and pulled one edge of the duvet over us and then nudged him toward the head of the bed. I don’t even think he woke, really, but he moved and then we settled into a more traditional spoon position.
ctan: Welcome to another liner note with me and Daron, where we fill in background info on DGC, provide site news, kibbitz about the music industry, pop culture, LGBT representation in the media, and other of our favorite topics. In fact, we hit so many topics in this one here’s a preview:
-Kickstarter & ebook news
-New fanfic and fanworks initiative!
-Which Hogwarts House does Daron belong in?
-Daron’s new favorite guitarist
-Movie trailers & other videos we thought you might like
-Thoughts on mixed-race identity and standards of beauty
Daron: You used my name in vain a bunch on Twitter this past week.
ctan: I did. It’s your fault I’m obsessed with every tenor leggero I hear now. Jesse Clegg was only the start. Now I’m onto Adam Lambert.
Daron: Is he Ziggy’s godchild or what?
We left the club in a stretch limo, Tony driving, and headed up the West Side Highway. No, maybe it was the east side. I don’t know. I was too busy kissing Ziggy.
I know. Sarah was sitting there, looking smug and watching. But I had reached some limit on my patience or my sanity or something. Do you think I had been able to keep my eyes off him while he was dancing? When every twitch of his hips and curve of his hands was so obviously aimed at driving me out of my mind?
Sarah’s driver dropped us off at what looked to me like a typical skyscraper-type office building, but through the lobby and up an escalator we came to a restaurant with styling so modern it bordered on futuristic. Which I suppose was the point. The doorman looked more like a Secret Service agent than a restaurant employee.
I swear I saw Tom Cruise while we walked through. Ziggy was already there, waiting for us in a private dining room in the back.
Is this going to happen every time I see him after we’ve been apart? I thought. Basically, I laid eyes on him and it was like taking a hit of some drug: my heart rate went up, my skin felt warm, my senses seemed to come alive…
That nap wasn’t when the nightmares started. I think I was having them already, but I’m not sure exactly when I had the first one. I think maybe I didn’t remember the first couple of them. Pretty sure it was some time after I left L.A. and before I saw Ziggy again.
Maybe nightmare is too strong a word. The dreams were more annoying than terrifying, really. Have I told you the one where I’m a busboy? That one recurs in different configurations. I still have it once in a while. The really annoying versions of it feature Ziggy as either a waiter or host… I don’t even want to think about them. Like that might make that dream come around more often.
So, hit me over the head with a brick about it.
Somehow, despite ample evidence to the contrary, I was used to thinking of myself as the only gay person I knew. I in fact knew a ton of people–Ziggy, Colin, my own sister, Jonathan, Matthew, Sarah, maybe even Mills if she was right about him–but in my head queer people were still really few and far between.
I tried to work out the math. If you believe the one-in-ten estimate, well, that would mean ten percent, right? Pretty rare. And yet clearly way more then ten percent of the people I knew were not straight.
Well, I thought, maybe one-in-ten doesn’t take into account that the entertainment industry probably has a higher concentration of gay folks. And it also probably doesn’t count bisexual people properly in the first place.
(Bit of news: DGC ebook volume 6 is up for pre-order on Amazon and Smashwords now! -ctan)
I think one step in figuring my shit out wasn’t making better decisions so much as recognizing when I was making shitty ones. That didn’t always stop me from making a bad decision, but it was better than the times when I hadn’t even realized there was a decision to be made.
I decided not to stop drinking when I started processing what Sarah and Trav were saying. I was feeling really unmoored by the whole conversation and being intoxicated isn’t exactly a grounding thing. But at least I was aware that I had a choice whether or not to have another drink, as opposed to it being some kind of inevitability. Does that make sense? Trav bought me a drink, and then I bought myself another one, not out of habit but in a conscious decision not to sober up yet.
When Sarah went to the ladies room, I wasn’t entirely surprised when the next person who sat down next to me was Jordan Travers, who I gathered was also something of a regular at this hangout.