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“Did you like it?” I know exactly what video he’s referring to, having sent him something hot to watch last night after our call. Since we can’t have the real thing, we’ll have to make do in whatever way we can.

“I think I’ve watched it over a thousand times already.” He bites the tip of his tongue, eyes twinkling. “The real thing is better, though.”

“I know.” My smile falters and my mood plummets. He’s right. Even though the pics and naughty videos—and yeah, the occasional dirty video call—are fun, it could never top having him in the flesh.

“I really want to see you,” Ty sounds gruff. And sad. Mostly sad. I share the sentiment. Those couple of days we had when I was back in Summerset for exams weren’t nearly enough.

“I know.” I sigh. “Just hold on, okay? The tour ends in ten weeks, then we have four months of rehearsals and shit in LA before our own one hits. We can do ten weeks, can‘t we? The hardest part is almost over.” Swallowing, I try to stay positive, smile, even though my nerves are going haywire on the inside, too freaking scared that he’ll walk away from me if it gets too hard.

I can hear the uncertainty when he finally answers. “Yes. Yes, I know we can. Ten more weeks.”

“Good. I’m still trying to come sooner than that, though. Okay? I promise you that. Promise me to keep it together for a little while longer, babe. Please?”

“I promise,” he mutters, rubbing his dark, for once cap-less hair, messing it all up way too sexy. “Of course I promise.”

For a moment, I can only stare at that beautiful man of mine, hoping that I can really push the surprise for his birthday and take some of the pain away.

“Ty?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me something new.”

He smiles instantly, remembering my request from yesterday. “I’m wearing lip gloss for the first time ever.”

My eyes drop to his mouth, and yup, while it’s dark in the car, there’s definitely something glistening there.

“Did Manuel put you up to that?” He told me all about his two new neighbors, introduced them even on an earlier call.

They sound like fun and I’m glad he’s having some people around who can make him laugh, because it feels like all I can do is make him sad.

I can hear a “no, Bob did!” in the background, but can only focus on my man, who smiles for real again, eyes lit. “Bob said that he’s highly disappointed in me that as a baby gay, I haven’t gone to Tight Spot yet.”

“But you have.” Oh, he has. I can very vividly remember how he showed up while I was doing a set with the band in that club. He was all smoldering and determined when he made his way through the audience to get to me, eyes blazing, to show me what he wanted. And what he wanted was me .

That night is still very special to me. It was the start of this, of us, and yeah, maybe I had a bit of a glitch at one point during our relationship, he was always the one who knew exactly what he wanted, what he still wants, and has never hesitated to show me.

Like I’m going to show him as well, if my plan works out. Because I can’t stand knowing that his smile will diminish once I hang up.

“Ah yes, I told them. But they say it doesn’t count if I don’t at least lose my shirt and get sandwiched by a couple of dudes on the dance floor.”

I snort and try not to feel a stab of jealousy at that. He can dance if he wants to, because didn’t I kinda do the same tonight? Of course he can. I trust him with everything I have. At least he’s trying to have some fun. He needs to have fun. It’s his damn birthday.

I just wish it was me who could get plastered all over my gorgeous man in a hot, sweaty dance.

“No worries. Lamar promised to be one half of the sandwich.” He aims his phone at his best friend, who’s seated next to him, sporting the neon-green mesh shirt he stole from his roommate Tuck last year.

“Is that red lipstick?” I ask, cocking my head. “It kinda suits you.”

“Thank you.” Lamar puckers his lip and smacks a kiss at Ty’s phone. “Manuel said it complemented my coloring? Or whatever the fuck that means.”

“It does,” I hear in the background, probably Manuel, and I snicker.

“Jace?” Ty asks as he aims the camera back to himself.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me something sweet.”

My heart stutters and I can’t contain my smile. “I miss you more than I miss real cheese.”

His dark eyebrows soar. “Cheese?”

“Yes. That orange crap you have here isn’t proper cheese. I’ll take you with me to the Netherlands one day, just to feed you real Gouda, one slice at a time. We can have a whole damn cheese tour while we’re at it. Educate you a bit. They have those, you know.”

His grin is broader now, lips shining with that stupid gloss. “Deal. You can show me all the wonderful things your tiny country offers. I think we’ll be done in half a day.”

“Pssh. Don’t sass my homeland. You’ll love it, I promise.”

“I will,” he says, the corner of his lips pulling up in a soft smile, popping the dimple I have very deep feelings for. “It’s where you’re from.”

I’m fucking melting, I swear I am, and we’re both just staring at each other in longing, in misery, in heartbreak.

Ty sighs and finally breaks the connection, listening to something one of his neighbors is saying, before scrunching up his nose as he meets my eyes again. “They’re parking the car, I have to go…”

“I know. That’s okay. Go enjoy your birthday.”

“I kinda don’t want to. I would rather keep talking to you all night.”

“I know,” I repeat. “You can call me when you get home and we can talk some more.”

“Won’t you be asleep?”

“You can always wake me up. Go, have fun. Go get drunk, but promise to send me pictures?”

“If you send me one as well.” He gives me a cheeky grin, and I know exactly what kind of picture he wants. “I love you, Jace.”

“I love you too, Ty.”

When the call shuts off, I swallow. It hurts a bit more every time.

Complying with his request right away, I open the camera app, lower my boxers a bit, and try to make a fun picture for him to hold on to tonight.

I angle the phone and arrange my hand so only the tip is peeking out between my fingers, the base still behind the fabric. Smirking at the camera, I snap the pic.

I pull my boxers back up and can only grin as I send it and immediately get multiple replies.

Tyler: Oh fuck you. I’m stealing the car to go back home. Phone sex in twenty.

Tyler: Are there any red eyes tonight?

Tyler: Manu says you look hot

Tyler: He’s right

Tyler: Shit, I miss you

Me: Jesus, are you showing them my dick?

Tyler: No, he *happened* to peek over my shoulder when you sent it.

Me: *skull emoji*

Me: Omg. Don’t let him watch too long, he’ll get a stroke, he’s old. His heart won’t be able to take it.

*Tyler sends picture of Manu flipping the bird *

Me: Lol. Have fun, babe. I’ll call you tomorrow to give you your real present.

Tyler: I just want you

Me: Same. Love you. 333

Tyler: *three duck emoji’s*

That last one was probably Lamar. If my heart could break further, it would. I close the thread because I don’t trust myself to stop texting and keep him from his fun night out, and open a thread with someone else, to confirm my gift is still good to go.

“What are you doing? Are you okay? Why did you disappear so fast?”

I look up from my phone as the curtain opens and my best friend and unofficial leader of our band, Missy, appears.

Since I’m on the top bunk, she’s at eye level.

Her black brows are drawn, a towel wrapped around her hair and her gigantic bag of toiletries in her hand.

She must’ve come back and hit the shower while I was calling Tyler.

“I’m fine, babes. Is it flat iron time again?” I swear she spends half her life straightening her hair, even though it’s beautiful when she lets her natural curls out. “I had to text my second favorite person.” I wave my phone.

She cocks her head, pursing her lips. “ Second favorite? Doesn’t Tyler come first place?”

“He does,” I answer and smirk when she narrows her eyes.

“So, if Tyler is first, then who the hell is your second favorite person if that isn’t me?”

I shrug and refocus on the message I want to send. The last check to see if everything is in order. “Maybe someone took up your spot. But you are third in line. That’s still a very high ranking compared to how many people I know.”

“If you’re about to tell me that fucktard Lamar bumped me down to third place, I’m gonna punch you.”

“He’s not a fucktard, and you know it.” I pause, thinking. “I’ll consider him my fourth favorite person.”

The corner of her mouth lifts. “As you should. He’s great. We had a good thing.”

“You did,” I say, slipping into the same argument we’ve had for five months now. “Which is why he’s not the fucktard—you are. I still don’t get why you broke up with him. You two were solid.”

She sighs, leaning against the side of the bunk. “Same reason you tried to break up with Tyler. You know that.”

I almost shiver. Don’t want to be reminded of that mess. Definitely one of my more absurd ideas.

“At least you’re having fun with Bowie,” I say.

Yep. She tapped Mick’s brother. Can’t blame her, really. She’s single, he’s single, and there’s not a whole lot to do on tour besides hanging out with the people you’re stuck with. And yeah, he’s hot as hell.

Still doesn’t mean I want anything to do with his brother.

“Once,” she says dryly. “And he kept talking about you afterward… how amazing your music is, how talented you are, how you’re totally gonna be the next big name right beside Mick. Blah, blah, blah. That was not the highlight of my life.”

I chuckle and gesture to myself. “I mean, what’s not to love? I get it. I’d talk about me too.”

“Well, I don’t get it. You’re not that special.”

“Thanks. Love you too.”

She smiles and leans in to kiss my cheek.

“I know you do. Go text your mystery person. I’m gonna bribe Ava into attacking this crow’s nest.” She taps the towel on her head.

“But before I leave, that duet? It was amazing and you sounded fucking great together, but are you really okay? It looked intense.”

“I am.” I smile at her concern. “I really am. It’s just a performance, Miss.”

“I know it is and I want us to succeed, Jace, but not at the costs of your, or our, integrity. If it gets to be too much, will you tell me?”

I agree with a nod and she leans in again to give me a swift hug before she leaves, closing the curtain behind her, giving me my privacy—just in time for a ping from my second favorite person in the world.