Page 86 of Second to None

II. LEVI

Manchester, Monday, November 3rd

Fun fact: my colleagues were big, fat gossips.

Granted, it was my first day back after spending Emily’s autumn break in LA, which coincided with Cass and me doing two official coming-out interviews—an in-depth, thoughtful one withRolling Stoneand a more humorous spot on a late-night show. Still, it shouldn’t be earth-shattering news around here. After all, Cass had stopped by the label a few times by now since he was recording at a studio that was a five-minute walk away, and we weren’t exactly subtle. Even if no, I wasnotabout to lock my office door and bend him over the desk, no matter how many hints he dropped. Iworkedhere.Serious work, Cassian. Unlike you prancing about with a microphone and glitter boots.

Anyway, the point was, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to my colleagues. Yet this was the fourth time in just an hour that someonecasuallyinterrupted me in the studio that Cosma and I had booked for the day.

“Sorry,” I told Cosma when Raj let himself into the room, hovering a little awkwardly on the threshold.

Cosma shrugged, a quick smile suggesting she was genuinely unbothered. “Seems you’re very popular these days.”

“Just until the next news cycle hits and washes some other poor sod to the top.”

“Is that one of your lessons?” she asked. Cheeky.

I winked. “Every word out of my mouth is a lesson.”

“Sure.”

I cocked a meaningful eyebrow at her, then turned to wave Raj fully into the room. “All right, mate, what can I do for you?”

“You can make me dad of the year?” He shot me a hopeful grin tinged with embarrassment that made him look younger than a guy in his mid-thirties. “Really sorry, man. I know this is weird. But my daughter’s a huge fan of Monroe, right? Your Cassian.”

MyCass. But hey.

“I remember.” It wasn’t a secret—Raj and I had met up for pints a number of times, and he’d mentioned that when his daughter had learned I was his colleague, she went wide-eyed, deeply awed by how he worked with one of Cassian’s former bandmates.‘I’m like two-hundred percent cooler now,’Raj had told me, and asked whether there was any chance I could get him an autograph, no worries if not. At the time, I hadn’t seen Cass in years, so I’d made some excuse. Raj easily accepted it, and I hadn’t resented him for asking—he was a good guy, just a single dad trying to make it work, and I would have done the same for Emily. “If it’s about the autograph again, I’m sure Cass would be happy to sign something. Just ask him next time he drops in.”

“Yeah, no—already did.” Raj perched his arse on the edge of the sound console. “Lovely guy, seems to just about worship the ground you walk on. You picked a good one, Levi.”

Three weeks after my candid video had exploded across every timeline, I still wasn’t quite used to people just… knowing. It felt kind of amazing, really. Being able to shout it from the rooftops if the mood were to strike, even though that wasn’t really my style. Reaching for Cass without worrying about cameras, telling the world that he wasmine, so hands off.You can look, sure, but I’m the only one who gets to touch.

“I have excellent taste,” I agreed, all nonchalance.

Cosma snorted and disguised it as a cough.

I pointed at her. “Case in point. Or do you beg to differ?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” she said, raising both hands in feigned deference. I loved that she’d grown more confident since the summer, standing up for her ideas when she believed in them yet willing to accept input, like when we’d agreed that lyrics about a rose pushing through concrete were perhaps a little too on-the-nose, better change it to a thread of ivy creeping up a rusted fence.

I’d let Cass listen to the resulting song, and he’d fallen in love on the spot, had declared wanting her as his opener for the European leg of his tour—not as some form of payment but because she was just that good.‘Only if you think she’s ready, Lee. I trust your judgment.’I hadn’t told her yet, much less the label, still making up my mind about whether it would be too much pressure too soon. I wanted a long career for her, not a starburst.

“Wise choice,” I told her, then turned back to Raj. “So, anyway. How can I help?”

I had an inkling. It proved to be right when he rubbed the back of his neck and then shook his head. “Look, again—I wouldn’t usually do this. But, damn, life is short, right? And if there’s a chance I can help my daughter see her favourite artist live—just, those are the memories you carry with you.”

“You’re asking me for concert tickets?” I kept my tone easy because, yeah, I got it. Again, I’d do the same thing for Emily. Cass would too, and maybe we’d have to lean on our connections a bit once she hit her teenage fangirl years.

“I tried to get some the usual way,” he said, rushed. “Honest, I did. Ready on the dot, hit refresh on the ticket page and all, but no luck.”

“Didn’t they sell out in a couple of minutes?” Cosma threw in, and yeah, they had.

Cass had announced the dates and venues for his tour shortly after I’d posted our video with Alba, and tickets had gone on sale last Friday, four days after we’d done our coming-out interviews. In spite of mostly positive reactions to our relationship, in spite of how it had triggered a needed debate about the pressure on young performers to conform and how that had torn us apart the first time—we’d decided to be honest about that part because we’d lied enough, really. Anyway, in spite of that, Cass had been curled around me in bed that morning, worried sick that no one would want to see him now.

Yeah, no. Maybe he wouldn’t have sold out Wembley Stadium anymore, not quite, but demand far outstripped available tickets.

“That’s what I heard,” Raj told Cosma, then turned to me. “I just—if there’s any chance? I’m happy to pay double for the Manchester show, honestly. Triple, whatever. I just want my girl to have a wonderful time.”

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