Chapter 5
They don’t talk for three days.
Not really.
Onstage, everything looks the same.
Jackson still jokes between songs. Still grins at the crowd like they belong to him. Still drapes an arm around Alex’s shoulders when the cameras sweep past.
Alex sings.
Perfect. Controlled. Professional.
Every note lands. Every harmony clean.
Embarrassment becomes routine. A low-grade burn he carries everywhere.
Isolation follows the second they step offstage.
Jackson vanishes into rooms Alex isn’t invited into. Meetings. Interviews. After-parties with names Alex doesn’t recognize.
Alex rides the bus alone. Sits at the back. Scrolls without reading. Listens to the others laugh without joining.
He tells himself it’s easier this way.
By the fourth night, the silence is louder than the music.
Rehearsal runs late. Tempers snap. Someone storms off over a missed cue.
Alex packs his bag fast, shoulders hunched, ready to disappear again.
“Wait.”
Jackson stands by the door of the rehearsal space. Alone.
No crew. No cameras. No audience.
Alex stops.
Doesn’t turn around.
“You avoiding me?” Jackson asks.
Alex exhales. “Didn’t think you’d notice.”
That lands.
Jackson steps closer. Careful this time. Like he’s approaching something fragile.
“I messed up,” Jackson says. No smirk. No charm. “I didn’t think it would hurt you like that.”
Alex finally turns.
“You didn’t think about me at all,” Alex says.
Jackson swallows. “I do now.”
Silence stretches between them.
Embarrassment creeps in. This feels too open. Too exposed. Like someone might walk in and see the truth written all over Alex’s face.
Isolation presses harder. Because Alex knows this is the moment where Jackson could walk away again. Choose the easier version of his life.
“I want you,” Jackson says.
No joke. No performance. Raw.
Alex searches his face. “Then stop choosing them.”
Jackson nods once. Firm. “Okay.”
The word feels heavy. Real. Like this is their core.
They don’t kiss there.
They don’t touch.
Later that night, Jackson knocks on Alex’s hotel door.
Alex almost doesn’t answer.
But he does.
The room is quiet. Too quiet.
Jackson stands awkwardly by the door like he’s not sure what to do without an audience.
Hands shake. Words stumble.
First time for both of them.
It’s awkward. Slow. Gentle. Careful.
Alex learns Jackson isn’t fearless. It’s a mask.
He’s just practiced at pretending.
A small connection bloom again. Warmer. Still fragile. Dangerous. But ready to touch.
After, they lie tangled in sheets, breathing synced, the city lights bleeding in through the curtains.
Jackson presses a kiss to Alex’s shoulder.
“I can’t imagine my life without you” Jackson whispers and his voice breaks.
Alex believes him.
But that’s the betrayal.
Because belief always costs more later.
