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We spend the entire day together, driving out onto Long Island for lunch and touring the coast. It’s almost dark by the time we get back, so I turn on the lights in my loft.
“Is that your phone?” I hear a bunch of pinging sounds.
“My Google alert.” He disappears into my bedroom, where his phone is plugged in.
A knock on my door startles me. Madyson and Jayce have worried expressions when I open it.
“We heard you come in and had to check on you.” Madyson reaches out but stops herself, clinging to Jayce instead. “We saw the stuff online, and I hope I’m not partly to blame. Are you okay?”
Last night, I saw a negative comment regarding my art on Page Seven’s social media page. “It’s fine. I have to accept it if I’m going to be an artist.” I’m touched by their concern, but when you’ve had thousands of people boo you, one person’s comment doesn’t hurt.
Alec swears from the other room.
“Thanks for your concern. I appreciate it.” I step back and close the door halfway so they get the hint.
“We’re here for you if you need us, man,” Jayce offers.
“And of course, for Lars too.” Madyson peers around me.
“Thanks.” I shut the door, trying to figure out why she mentioned Lars. But my mind goes back to Alec in my bedroom, and I forget them.
Alec is staring at his phone, open-mouthed, sitting on the edge of my bed. He’s so still it puts me on edge.
“Is everything okay?”
“I put alerts on my phone for Jayce, Lars, The Q, and The Artistic Edge, so if the show pops on social media, I’ll know. I can send a link for people to donate when people read the posts.” He’s still not looking at me and his thumb is scrolling and scrolling.
“A great plan,” I say with confusion.
“Fucking hell, Von.” Alec’s eyes meet mine as he shows me his screen.
There’s a picture of Lars and me from last night walking into the restaurant. From the camera angle, it looks as if we’re holding hands. The caption is,Friends or More?My head is spinning with the implication and media attention.
“Are you…” His eyes search mine, and I can’t read his expression. “Are you famous? You’re a soccer player?”
I’m trying to digest how the media outlet figured out who I am while shoving down my resentment of social media and tabloid-type news outlets. Before I form words to explain why I didn’t tell him, he snaps, “Von.” Not Viking, Von.
Let It Go By James Bay
“I’m sorry,” I say, but my phone rings with a special tone. “That’s my mamma. I have to take it.”
Alec is noticeably at a loss for words with his mouth opening and closing, and I can’t blame him for his anger. I don’t know what the article says, but it highlights that I’m famous enough to be mentioned in connection to Lars by name and not as an unknown companion.
And Lars, fuck.
Alec stalks out of the room, his back ramrod straight.
“Mamma,” I answer and am bombarded with an earful of questions. I can’t even break in to explain that I’m not dating Lars.
Once she’s calm, I explain the picture isn’t what it seems. I assure her that Lars and I are friends and will only ever be just friends. She asks if Lars dates men, and I claim no knowledge of his preferences.
I love my mother, but she loves good gossip and Lars’s sexual orientation should never be debated in public opinion. She should understand that after what I went through. People dissected my sexuality and made it front-page news for months. The coverage hurt my entire family. My mother knows I’m not telling her everything and threatens to get on a plane to the US.
While I’m sure she won’t get on a plane, I blurt out, “I met someone, and he was here last night.” I’m thankful that Alec must be long gone and doesn’t speak Swedish. The entire situation is infuriating and I don’t need my mamma’s concern or judgment.
My mother warns me against dating an American and how it will only end in heartbreak. It’s easy to assure her that won’t happen since I can’t get my heart broken by a guy who isn’t into relationships. After several more dire, unrealistic visions of the future, she tells me she loves me and hangs up.
I hear Alec’s angry voice and decide to brave his outrage.