Page 100 of Faithful

I fall back on the pillow and check the digital clock first, then stare at the darkness above me, contemplating if I should dial Kai back.

No need.

A text lights up the screen two seconds later.

K: open the door

The fuck?

Is he for real?

Or am I being pranked?

Or was the weed so strong that I’m still hallucinating?

My phone pings again.

Nope. That’s definitely not a hallucination.

I shoot up from the bed and rush out into the living room, forgetting that I’m wearing nothing but a pair of sweats. With my heart in my throat, I unlock the door and guess what?

Kai is standing there outside my apartment, dressed up like he’s about to go on stage, with smeared eyeliner and a hint of alcohol on his breath.

I’m lost for words.

“I need to tell you something,” he mutters and pushes past me inside.

“It’s 3:00 a.m. and Leigh’s asleep,” I say through gritted teeth, grabbing at his elbow to stop him from going farther.

“Yeah. I know. I came here straight from the airport,” he whispers.

I carefully shut the door and then turn on the light to see him better.

He’s not sober. His eyes are darker than usual, and his face is ashen. Not a good look on him.

“I thought you told me to go fuck myself,” I say because I need to vent my frustration over the silent treatment he’s been giving me this week.

Kai clumsily grabs at my jaw and presses his index finger to my lips. “Shut up while I’m talking, Dylan.”

All I can do is blink helplessly.

“Here’s the thing, okay?” He doesn’t remove his hand from my mouth as he continues. “You can’t protect me from the things I’ve done, and I can’t change the past or who I was then… and I’m terrified that you won’t feel the same way about me you feel now after I tell you… If I tell you… Some secrets better remain secrets. And it’s not fair. I know it's not. That’s why I never said it back. You don’t deserve to be lied to. I already hurt you. I don’t want to do it again.” A pause. “And it’s just what it is, Dylan. But if that’s the case, if you still don’t want to break it off with me even after I ask you to allow me to keep the dirt buried, I don’t want it, us, to be… halfway. It’s not enough.”

His finger slips down to my neck and presses into the hollow beneath my Adam’s apple.

“What do you mean?” I ask, absolutely flabbergasted by his convoluted speech that makes no sense.

He hardly drinks. Well, he tries not to. So it must be the alcohol speaking.

Kai steps closer, our chests brushing. “I’m not the one in the closet, Dylan.” His gaze holds mine and it feels like my insides are being set on fire. “I don’t talk about my private life to protect the people around me. Do you think my mother would be able to go to her doctor’s appointments if fucking Dave from YouTube has his followers camped out in front of her house? This secrecy is not because I’m ashamed of who I am or because I’m scared people won’t be buying my music anymore. This secrecy is to make sure no one but me takes the hit. Everyone in the band knows I’m gay. My manager knows I’m gay. My mom knows I’m gay.”

Kai stops talking, his hand still on my neck, now wrapped around me like a choke hold. I’m having difficulty breathing, not because his grip is too strong but because I’m overwhelmed by his presence. His voice. His scent. His face. Even his fucking hair. If you could drown in a person, that’s what it would be like. That’s how it’d feel.

“You’re so deep in the closet, Dylan,” he goes on, “you don’t even know how the door looks anymore.” He delivers his last punch to the gut, leaving me completely tongue-tied.

“If you want for this to work, for this to be all the way, for me to be all in, I can’t be with someone in the closet. And I can't make you come out. It’s not my decision to make. It’s yours alone.”

I’m motionless, afraid that if I move, Kai will somehow disappear. The only part of my body still alive and kicking (literally) is my stupid heart, running a fucking marathon in my chest.

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