Page 23 of Catch Me
Pete leaned against the table, but he hadn’t said anything yet. It looked like he was thinking. I made it a habit not to assume the worst, so I tried not to play a guessing game in my head.
“What’s up?” I asked, slipping my hands into my pockets.
“So, you’ve gone viral a few times. That’s not an issue. It’s been good publicity, and I think what you’re doing is really great.”
“I don’t need you to sing my praises. What’s this about?”
He sighed. “Public relations. You’ve been more active online in the past few months and it’s getting attention.”
“Attention is good, right?”
“Yes and no. It’s to be expected that you’ll outwardly support the LGBTQ community. Nobody up top has an issue with that. They’re getting concerned about your content, though, and they’re putting pressure on me to talk to you about it.”
I ground my teeth together and curled my fingers in my pockets in an effort to release some tension. It didn’t do much, but it was enough to keep me from clapping back right away.
“What’s wrong with my content?” I asked casually.
“Well, you’re raising money to take a stance against state laws.”
“Because they’re harmful laws. They should be fought against, and hundreds of thousands of people agree.”
He held up his hands. “I’m not disagreeing with you, Trav. The issue is that this is no longer about being a voice for gay people. It’s become political.”
My nostrils flared, and I had to take a long breath. “Human rights aren’t a matter of opinion, Pete.”
“In this world, they are. It doesn’t matter what we think. You have to abide by the standards in your contract. They don’t like the attention this is garnering.”
“I don’t fucking care what they like!” I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. “Are you saying I have to drop this?”
“I’m saying we need to talk more about it, figure out what limits they’re trying to set here.” He stepped closer and gave me an apologetic look. “Look, Trav. This is Georgia. You know the laws in each state, right?”
“Yeah, they prevent conversion therapy from being banned here. To me, that means I should speak louder.”
“If it was just about you, sure. They don’t want that associated with the team. The people who live here are literally the ones who support us. We could lose fans—a lot of them.”
“This is fucking ridiculous. What do you think will happen if I pull back? People message me every day, ones who can’t openly be who they are. There are hundreds—thousands—in this citywho look to me because I’m their fucking voice. Do you know how many guys who play sports have reached out to me, feeling hope for the first time because they’re terrified of being kicked off their team or ostracized? That’s what I’m working against here, and you just want me to drop it.”
“What’s wrong with doing what you were before?”
I scoffed. “Being a figurehead isn’t enough. It doesn’t do anything to actually help.”
With a sigh, he nodded. “Just tone it down for now and we’ll see what else they say, okay?”
I didn’t trust myself to respond, so I turned around and walked out the door. At the other end of the hall, Roman was talking on the phone. There was a big smile on his face, but as soon as he saw me, it disappeared. He said something, then ended the call.
“We leaving?” he asked.
“Yup.”
His contemptuous expression pissed me off right now. I’d been honest in the car on the way here. I didn’t give a shit what he believed, as long as he could be respectful. Befriending someone like him wasn’t on my to-do list, but I wasn’t going to refuse to work with people because they didn’t like how I was born. Sure, it made me want to cuss them out sometimes, but he could believe whatever the fuck he wanted.
After that conversation, I was at risk of going against all of that. He was representative of the kind of people who had an issue with me taking a ‘political stance.’
Do your job and stay out of politics.
You’re paid to throw a ball, not shove your views down our throats.
I don’t want my kids watching this gay propaganda.
