Page 66 of The Deviation
CALUM
It’s almost ten at night on the first day of the Autumn Skies Music Festival and my workday is officially done. The last three bands on the schedule tonight are with other management companies. Which means after twelve hours being run off our feet, the staff of Rush are now free to enjoy what remains of the evening. Exhaustion has me ready to drop, but I’m still looking forward to catching up with Johnny and the rest of the band for a couple of hours before heading back to the house I rented us for the weekend.
The four bedrooms of the holiday home are a comfortable fit for the band, including Ned and Toni, Gavin and Charmaine, and Oz and Hannah. As the only two ‘single’ people, Johnny and I graciously offered to share the last bedroom, with its twin singles. No one questioned the arrangement, although I can easily imagine Toni chortling quietly to himself when he found out.
On my way out of the backstage area, I pass Arthur who is chatting amiably with Ned’s ex-manager and ex-boyfriend, Zac Powell. The hairs on the back of my neck bristle with distaste. Being in the same vicinity as Zac at an event of this size is inevitable, given the number of artists he represents. Socialising with the man backstage, on the other hand, is a choice. One Arthur seems happy to make.
I’ll agree networking is important, but there’s something to be said for the quality of the company one keeps. Zac may have the power to shave years off my career trajectory with a singlerecommendation, but I’d rather put the time and effort in twice over than have my name associated with his. As long as he stays away from Ned, I intend to stay away from him.
Still, as I make my way to the VIP tent, a vague sense of unease creeps around the edges of my conscience. How can I judge Zac for sleeping with his clients when I’m doing exactly the same thing? I can claim my case is different until all the breath is gone from my body. The fact is the business relationship between me and Johnny will always have the potential for abuse. I’m confident my personal ethics will keep me focused on the band’s best interests instead of my own. But if the truth gets out, no one else will see it that way. Arthur will be the first to rake me over the proverbial coals, no matter his own professional shortcomings.
I lift my lanyard so security can inspect my ID before stepping inside the barriers of the VIP section, my brain crowded with all the work still needing to be done. The Starling siblings will play their set on a side stage early tomorrow afternoon. Fifth Circle will perform in the amphitheatre a couple of hours later. Those two acts are my main focus. I’ve arranged to have Hannah watching from the wings with me when Oz is onstage, as part of her twentieth birthday present. Otherwise, there are also about a dozen other Rush artists I need to be on hand for. Then, in the next few weeks, I’ll be finalising the preparations for Fifth Circle’s national tour. The release of their debut album won them glowing reviews, an abundance of airtime, and an exploding fan base. Ticket sales have been high enough I’ve added a couple of extra shows to the tour. We could have kept going, but there’s a limit to how long the band wants to be on the road.
Things are slowly moving forwards, though. Ned and Gavin both resigned from their day jobs recently, to focus full-time on the band. Oz is reluctant to take that last leap of faith, but is ableto work remotely, which helps. Johnny is the only one who’s still working full-time, tied to a specific schedule and location. I don’t know when, or even if, that will change. He may never be ready to step so far out of line with his parents.
Despite the limitations it puts on my vision for the band’s future, and the friction it’s causing at Rush, I never want to push him to do something he’s not ready for. I work for the band, not the other way around.
I spot Ned first and weave through the crowd to get closer. He’s deep in conversation with a man with long, dark hair. The man turns his head enough for me to see his profile and my eyes go wide. Ned is talking to Dante Sinclair.
Famous from the time he was in his mid-teens for both his songwriting and his soulful voice, Dante made huge waves in the rock scene a few years ago when he released a truly stunning album, which outed the ‘straight’ rock star as a bisexual man. The backlash from sections of his fan base was fierce. But it was the outpourings of love and support from the majority that truly astounded. If there was one person in this entire country I would kill to have Ned be seen with, it’s Dante.
I attempt to keep some kind of restraint on my enthusiasm as I make my way over to them. When Ned catches sight of me, he waves me closer. “Speak of the devil,” Ned says, when I reach his side. “Dante, I’d like you to meet Calum Ellis, the man who dragged us out of pub back rooms and into the spotlight.”
Dante offers me his hand with a warm smile. “Good to meet you, Calum.”
“Likewise, Mr Sinclair,” I say as we shake.
Not letting go of my hand, he focuses his dark eyes on me. “Please, call me Dante.”
My heart gives an almighty kick inside my chest, and I clear my throat as I nod. “Dante it is.”
His smile widens as he releases my hand and holy shit, I think Ned has met his match when it comes to seducing anyone with a heartbeat.
Dante spends the next few minutes talking about how impressed he is with Fifth Circle’s album while Ned blushes profusely. My brain latches on to all the varied possibilities that exist for the two talented men. I have to remind myself a first meeting is not an offer of collaboration any more than a first date is a marriage proposal. Still, a manager can dream.
A laughing Toni soon appears with Dante’s husband, Sean, at his side. They’re returning from the bar if the overflowing plastic cups they’re holding are any indication. While Sean and I share a quick introduction, Ned hugs Toni against his side. The shorter man looks up to meet his gaze. “All good?” he murmurs.
Ned gives him a nod. “Better now you’re back.”
The two couples return to their easy conversation, but my own gaze can’t help but linger on Ned and Toni. The arm Ned has clamped around Toni’s waist, the subtle way Toni scans the crowd, as if standing guard. They have each other’s back, no matter what. Even as their professional lives have grown and evolved this past year, they’ve always seemed so fundamentally necessary to each other.
I’ve never been truly necessary to anyone, except Hannah. She didn’t get a choice. We’re the only family we have. I couldn’t imagine anyonechoosingme like that. Even now Johnny and I are together, I can’t help but feel what we have will ultimately prove temporary. Not because I don’t believe him when he says he loves me, but because today’s love could just as easily be tomorrow’s burden. Lifelong love requires a level of commitment I would never assume to inspire. Even if someone did choose me as their life partner, I wouldn’t trust it. I’m not sure I have that kind of trust in me anymore.
“How did you end up managing Fifth Circle?” Dante’s question snaps me back to the present.
The lead guitarist locked eyes with me, and I fell into the awkwardness of his charm.
“I saw them perform here last year and hounded them until they gave in.”
Ned barks out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s pretty much how it happened.”
Now I have their attention, I ask if I can take a picture of the four of them for Fifth Circle’s social media. Dante and Sean readily agree, and the four men line up together. Ned and Dante are in the middle, with Toni and Sean on the outside. They all wrap arms around each other, looking happy and relaxed.
I quickly snap a half dozen shots and thank them before stepping to the side to pick the best photo to upload. Going to the caption, I addLoud and Proud. The queer men of Australian Rock!I tag Dante’s account and then include every relevant hashtag I can think of before posting the photo. Within seconds, there’s a like from Dante’s account. I glance up to see Sean holding a phone and grinning at me. He comes over to show me he’s reposted the photo to Dante’s account. With millions of followers, that one post has the potential to bring hordes of Dante Sinclair fans to Fifth Circle’s account—and their album.
“You are a legend,” I tell Sean. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“I’m a photographer. Trust me, I know the power of a good shot,” he says, turning to hand the phone back to his husband. “Besides, Dante wouldn’t shut up about that album. Fifth Circle is a great band. They deserve every success.”