Page 7 of Faithful

I feel myself burning up from the tips of my ears to my toes.

* * *

A couple of days after Leigh and I sign the lease, I get a late-night text from Kai.

He’s in Sioux Falls where earlier in the week a small group of protestors tried to force the club Iodine was scheduled to play at to drop the show.

Apparently, Divine Dave has grown quite the following and that following has been causing all sorts of trouble both online and in real life.

#cancelkaidelisa has been trending on various social media platforms for a month now, but Iodine stats don’t lie. “Bloodletting” racked up over five million streams on Spotify. Not a bad number for a gothic band from Seattle that writes off-mainstream rock in times when rock isn’t even that big a deal anymore.

The text pops up on my phone when I’m already in bed. I’m not sleeping yet, but my lights are turned off and the darkness surrounding me seems almost peaceful and familiar. Unlocking the screen, I tap on the link in the message sitting below a long string of meme exchanges.

There’s a prompt to download a file namedUntitled_Demo.

I do that and then reach for my nightstand drawer and grab my earbuds to listen to whatever it is Kai sent me.

It’s always like that with him–you can have expectations, but the reality is different.

I don’t even know what I’m hoping to hear but it’s not the creeping, out-of-this-world hum of a synthesizer in perfect harmony with the lyrics that he once sang to me in a hotel room in Houston.

I recognize the words almost instantly. There’s the kind of intimacy embedded into each syllable that is only infused into a song if that song is for someone special and not for the consumption of the crowd.

My stomach curls and my heart beats a little faster and I’m enveloped by the deep rasp of Kai’s voice for the next three minutes and thirty seconds.

When the music ends, I feel myself falling apart, breaking and shattering and spilling across the bedsheets like water and pieces of glass. Something pulls at my chest, something desperate and heavy.

And then, when I register a trail of wetness slithering down my cheek, I realize that I’m crying.

2 ALL ABOUT SHIT HITTING THE FAN

I truly don’t know how to ask Kai about the demo and what exactly he’s trying to tell me, although it’s quite clear from the lyrics. This thing has become more than just sex.

You don’t really write a song about another guy if he doesn’t matter, do you?

Conflicted and terrified of my own reaction a few days prior (like who the hell cries after listening to an unfinished piece of music?), I hold back from responding to Kai’s message until he finally cracks and texts me first.

K: did u listen to it?

It’s the middle of the week and I’m wrapping up at work when the notification comes up on my phone. Winona happens to be near and sees the text. It’s actually not the first time she catches me red-handed in the battle of gifs and emojis with Kai, but she’s been keeping most of her commentary to herself up until now.

“Oooh, bae is at it again.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Of course I would. The entire office has their money tied up in the pool–”

I feel my cheeks flush and my pulse skyrocketing. “What pool?”And like the office is literally four people and I’m not a part of said venture.

Winona makes a face and comes back with my own “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She takes off rushing across the reception area as I send a crumpled piece of paper after her.

“What pool, you jerk?” I shoot up from my chair, dread spreading through me.

Val tears her gaze from her computer screen and adds in a flat tone, “That you’re secretly gay.”

The edges of my vision begin to swim. I’m dizzy and blind and horrified all of a sudden.

How did they know?

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