Page 79 of High Notes & Hail Marys

He’s boneless after, after you clean up and flush and wash your hands. You remind him that he has a party to finish, and there’s a dopey, utterly blissed-out look on his face as he nods. You hopefervently that Frish doesn’t expect him to give a speech, and make a mental note to turn away any and all offers of more champagne for the evening.

Before he can ask, you help him button his pants.

You are surprised by the knot of photographers waiting at the back door of the Troxy when you two are leaving at three in the morning. A staff member must have paid them off. They scream Sterling’s name the same way as in America, just with British accents. Sterling must still be feeling drunk—you thought you’d managed to sober him up with food and lots of mineral water—because he pulls your head down and kisses you right in front of the paparazzi. You smile against his mouth, and try not to imagine the headlines.

“Happy birthday, Sterling!” one of the photographers called. “Did you have a good night?”

“Yes,” he replies.

Cal seems to appear out of nowhere. You saw glimpses of him at the edge of the party all night. He was off-duty and Sterling had insisted that he was to have fun, but you are pretty sure that Cal is allergic to fun. He has some stern words with the press, and they keep their distance while he shepherds the two of you down Caroline Street to where your car is waiting.

“Thank you, Cal,” Sterling says.

The “car” is a goddamned vintage aubergine Rolls-Royce limousine. Even Sterling laughs when he sees it.

“The hell is this?” he asks.

“One last birthday surprise from Mr. Frishman,” Cal says dryly. “He wanted you to get home comfortably.”

“I feel like the prom queen,” Sterling utters. He disappears into the back. You are about to follow, when Cal stops you with his big arm.

“Mister Reinhart,” he begins.

You tense up. You’ve never had an interaction with the brusque bodyguard that didn’t make you fear mortally for your physical well-being.Oh, Jesus. Maybe he found out what went on in the bathroom.

“I just wanted to say,” he tells you, “that I have never seen Mister Grayson so happy. I think you two are really good together.”

You arespeechless.Gobsmacked. Absolutely boggled.

“Thank you, Cal,” you manage.

He nods, and gestures for you to climb into the limo. His stoic face is the last thing you see before the door shuts.

Inside, it’s bigger than a regular car, but smallerthan the limo you shared with the rest of your high school friends before dances. There’s just the two seats, which can recline all the way with footrests, a console with drinks and snacks, and a screen that’s currently showing a traffic map of London. It’s something between first class on a commercial airplane and a private train compartment.

The car starts to move, the driver unseen. The London streets are eerily deserted as the city holds its breath before dawn. Most of the storefronts are blackened, save the odd 24-hour kebab shop. The bars still glow neon, but there are few revelers left, stragglers making their way home. The landmarks of the West End look more solemn in the dark. The pavement glistens, the remnants of rain that must have fallen during the party.

“Happy birthday, Ster,” you murmur in the darkness of the car. He’s holding your hand, tracing lazy patterns on your knuckles. “Was it a good one?”

He looks over at you, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “The best,” he swears. “The very best.”

You think back to Cal’s words, and you silently concur. Best nightever.

It only improves when the birthday boy flips up the console and blows you, slobbery and enthusiastic. You drop your head back and knotyour fingers in his hair. The limo’s engine purrs. You realize that Sterling must have told the driver to take the long way home.

Chapter Nineteen

Skin! Skrillex! Skivvies! Grayson’s Big Party Was a Night to Remember… And Wait Until You See What The Train Got Him For His B-Day!

LONDON, UK: Yesterday was Sterling Grayson’s 30th birthday, and his record label spared no expense making sure he enjoyed a party worthy of his megastar status. Dave “Frish” Frishman, CEO and President of Indigo Records, rented out the entire historic Troxy Theatre in the West End for a birthday celebration that reportedly included near-naked aerialists, a world-class DJ, free-flowing Dom Pérignon, a custom birthday cake by Stars of Sugar, and a guest list featuring A-listers from both sides of the pond.

Frish enlisted burlesque artists from France’s Moulin Rouge cabaret to put in an appearance, but one performer, speaking under the promise of anonymity, stated that Grayson was nowhere to be found when the troupe took the stage for their acclaimed topless fan dance. It was “disappointing,” she said, “but maybe he had to step out for a while.”

In lieu of gifts, we’re told that Grayson asked for donations to his favorite charities, including No Kid Hungry, Point of Pride, and The Arts Council of England. That doesn’t mean that all guests came empty-handed, however. Sources say that Elton John gave Grayson a notebook of handwritten lyrics and photos. Zendaya, an ambassador for Louis Vuitton, fittingly picked out a customized Around Me PM bag in the brand’s signature print, the tag of which was monogrammed with Grayson’s last initial. And Gwyneth Paltrow gift-wrapped an opulent selection of candles from her Goop line.

But perhaps the sweetest present came from Grayson’s boyfriend, Miami Cyclones star Kaius “The Train” Reinhart. According to our sources, Reinhart commissioned a personalized piece from Edge of Ember, a boutique jeweler. The 18K gold necklace is the brand’s “Double Initial” style, with an “S” and a “K” hanging from a 17-inch chain. We can hear Graylings and Trainspotters sighing in twitterpated delight all around the globe. Happy birthday, Sterling!

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