Page 131 of Hope & Harmony

“I love you, too, Jax.”

His arms tightened around me, his throat working as he processed the things we’d said to each other. With a soft sigh, he pulled me back to him, kissing me slowly and deeply.

It made my head spin, thinking of how we’d reached this moment. A moment I wanted to freeze in time forever, because surely nothing could ever top it.

Everything between us had been so unexpected, but so right.

We’d begun this as strangers in a music shop, and we’d connected instantly. Now, here we were, two people from two different worlds, who somehow fitted together perfectly.

EPILOGUE

**EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW**

Reclusive songwriter Jaxon Messier and his partner, drummer Curtis Ward, invite Tempo magazine to share afternoon tea with them in London…

Jaxon Messier, 24, formerly known as Jay Bowman, one-fifth of US pop band Morningside, greets me politely as he seats himself at the table alongside his partner, Curtis Ward, 22. He asks if I drink tea, and when I tell him yes, I do, he proceeds to serve the entire table, pouring the fragrant brew into delicate bone china cups. This formal tearoom in a smart hotel in Knightsbridge is an incongruous setting for the former pop star and his drummer boyfriend, and I ask why this particular location was chosen.

Messier glances at Ward, and they both laugh. Messier tells me he has an ongoing joke regarding cucumber sandwiches with his former Morningside bandmate, Joe Garcia, 23. As he speaks, he waves a hand toward the stand of miniature sandwiches to his left, artfully arranged over three tiers.

“We heard the cucumber sandwiches here were the best in London, so we had to come,” he tells me, as Ward snaps a photograph of the display.

As we help ourselves to the sandwiches, Messier and Ward rate each filling. They persuade me to join them, and together, we rank the sandwiches from best to worst (best—roast beef and horseradish, worst—cucumber). In between rating the food, they pepper the conversation with anecdotes about their lives together, constantly touching and teasing each other.

I mention how at ease they seem in my presence, despite Messier’s notoriously private persona. Messier shrugs with a wry smile. “Yeah, it’s a little weird, right? I guess Curtis has that effect on me. He makes me able to be myself, no matter who’s around.”

Ward cups a hand around his mouth and leans in as if he’s preparing to tell me a secret. “He’s making me sound like it’s all me, when really, it’s all him. But if you want to give me the credit in print, I can’t stop you.” Giving me an exaggerated wink, he adds, “Just don’t ask him about my bad habits. I wouldn’t want to tarnish my reputation.”

When Messier elbows him, he laughs and tells me he has a habit of leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor—something Messier has been trying to cure him of since they moved into their Shoreditch flat eighteen months ago. As far as bad habits go, this one seems fairly mild, and I tell them so. “See?” Ward says triumphantly, and Messier sighs, insisting we must be in cahoots.

Our sandwiches are replaced with a selection of miniature cakes, and when we’ve filled our plates, the conversation veerstowards Messier’s highly anticipated upcoming collaboration with multi-award-winning north London grime artist, ZW. When I ask him how the collaboration came to be, he shrugs modestly. “It was pure luck. He somehow found my music channel and heard one of my songs, and got in touch to ask if he could sample it for one of his tracks. Things snowballed from there.”

Ward shakes his head, smiling, and tells me that Messier is too modest. “Anyone would be lucky to work with him. He’s so f**king talented, and he doesn’t even realize just how amazing he is.”

I ask if the two of them have any plans to collaborate in the future (Ward is the drummer for up-and-coming London indie rock band, the 2Bit Princes). They laugh again and say they have no plans to, and that they’ve made an agreement to keep their careers separate. From the glances they exchange, though, I wonder if that may change one day.

We switch from tea to champagne (we’re celebrating Messier’s collaboration, apparently), and when Messier refills my flute, he tells me he’s been feeling nervous about this interview. When I say that I, too, have been a little apprehensive, given the pressure of being one of the scant handful of journalists allowed to interview him since the dissolution of Morningside, he relaxes.

Ward squeezes his arm and mouths, I’m so proud of you. Messier leans in and kisses his partner’s cheek. “I love you,” he says, and Ward’s entire face lights up.

“I love you, too,” he replies, and we all smile.

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