Page 64 of Gabriel's Album

She closes her laptop, then takes my hand. I pull her up to standing, and she places the laptop on the chair behind her before I lead the way out of my dressing room and back toward the stage.

“Where are we going?” she asks as she trails behind me.

“Shhh, keep your voice down.” I put a finger to my lips.

“Why all the cloak and dagger?” she asks quietly while laughing.

“You’ll see,” I tell her, hoping that she enjoys my surprise.

I intertwine my fingers with hers and lead her into the main backstage area, my eyes constantly scanning the place to check if anyone’s around. There’s a big red beanbag in the corner of the room that I moved here in the middle of the soundcheck when I told everyone I needed the bathroom. I’m relieved it’s still here because I had been worried someone might take it away.

Ariana’s eyebrows raise as I pick it up and carry it toward the stairs that lead onstage. I drop to my knees, pushing the beanbag ahead of me as I enter the tunnel next to the stairs that I was shown at the beginning of the soundcheck.

I can feel Ariana following me, and the tension leaves my body as soon as we manage to get under the stage without anyone seeing us. I crawl about fifteen feet before the space opens up. It’s not high enough to stand, but I can sit comfortably with a decent amount of space above my head.

“They’ve changed the show,” I explain to Ariana as I push the beanbag to the center of the open space and beckon her over.

“How so?” she asks as she crawls over to me.

“I’m going to be appearing onstage from down here.” I indicate the platform and trapdoor a few feet away from us.

“Wow, sounds awesome,” Ariana says as she sits on the beanbag.

“Yeah, it should be,” I smile at her. “The other guys have new entrances too. Sebastian’s going to fly down from the rafters.” I roll my eyes, and Ariana laughs.

I sit on the floor next to her and lie on my side while resting my head in her lap and look through the structure holding the stage up as we talk. Ariana begins stroking my head and running her hands through my hair, which I find incredibly soothing. I softly stroke her lower leg with one of my hands in return, and she sighs softly, bringing a smile to my lips.

“This place is amazing,” she tells me.

“I thought you would like it. When they sent me down here, all I could think about was how much I wished you could be here with me,” I reply.

“You know me so well.”

I smile and feel pleased that I accurately guessed that this place would be somewhere that Ariana would like. I’m so glad that she’s in my life; I’ll always be grateful that we did that charity event.

“I like to think so.” I consider my next words carefully. There are so many questions I want to ask her, but I guess I should start with the most obvious one. “So tell me, how are you enjoying the tour?”

“I’m having a lot of fun.”

It’s a bullshit answer, and I’m sure she knows it. It’s the sort of thing you would say to an acquaintance, not to your boyfriend.

“Talk to me, Ari,” I plead, and I try to think of a way to explain the way I feel with her sometimes. “I don’t want there to be any walls between us. Sometimes you seem so sad and closed off; it’s like you’re on the other side of a window. I can see you, but I can’t really get to you.”

“I don’t mean to do that,” she tells me in a voice so soft that I almost can’t hear her.

I feel an ache in my heart at hearing the words that confirm she’s not doing this intentionally, which almost makes it worse.

“I know you don’t, and that’s what scares me. I don’t know what more I can do.” I roll onto my back and look her in the eyes.

“There isn’t anything you can do, Gabriel. All you can do is bear with me.”

“I intend to do that,” I say, smiling at her. “I just worry sometimes that you’re not as invested in this relationship as I am.”

Ariana’s eyes widen, and she asks, “Is that really what you think?”

“Yeah, I really do think that. You know how in relationships there’s a balance of power, and one person always loves the other one more? In our relationship, you have the power, and I think that I love you more than you love me.”

I shrug as casually as I can, but I feel exposed right now. Admitting this to her and acknowledging our power dynamic is scary as fuck. Sometimes I’m worried that she’s going to tear my heart out and rip it to pieces because I know I’ve given her the power to do so.

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