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I feel surprisingly refreshed. Val and I watched all the songs twice. When I told her I maybe wanted to sing again, she promised to be first in line for my new album. She's a sweetheart and I'm glad I know her, and I told her as much.
I caught an Uber home around midnight, ready to crash. I can't stay up to all hours and cruise through the next day on nothing but coffee anymore. I'm not as young as I used to be. Neither is Alex, but he's still up. "I wasn't sure when to expect you," he says.
Well, that's his fault. "You could have texted. I was at Val's."
"Not out recording things with Scott?"
"You say that like it's tantamount to murdering babies or something, when, in fact, recording things with Scott was my job not so long ago. But no, I said I was at Val's, and I was at Val's."
"Of course. It's just... when was this?" The videos are up on his laptop. "Why didn't you say anything about it?"
I guess to him, it looks like a big production, like we booked a studio and I rehearsed a lot and recorded all day, at least. "It was all at Scott's house, all in a few hours, all first takes. I just felt like singing."
"I knew to expect this from Scott, but from you? I guess I deserve it. I could ignore it when it was just him, but hearing you singing his words... Your voice is like a knife." I've heard people say that before, that it cuts through their very souls, but they've never meant it the way Alex does, like I'm wielding it against him.
I hold out my arms, and he steps hesitantly into the tightest hug I can give him. "I don't want to hurt you." That's not what I'm like when I'm angry, but it's the only reaction that makes sense to him. "I didn't mean it. Not a word, I promise. I just wanted to sing, that's all. It's not for you." I wasn't thinking of him when I sang any of it, and I didn't think of how it would affect him when I watched the videos with Val, but of course he's hurt. He heard his own boyfriend sing the words his ex wrote against him. It's worse than that. In the final tracks, Scott's voice and mine are working together.
"It was never even supposed to be published," I tell him. "Let me sing you something nicer." I reach over and close the videos on his laptop, and fold it shut for good measure. I search my mind for something soft and sweet to sing and come back with the perfect song. I was made for loving you. I just wish I were better at it. Even though we may be hopeless hearts just passing through. It feels hopeless now, but we'll make it. Every bone screaming, 'I don't know what we should do.' We'll make it. We'll make it. All I know is darling, I was made for loving you.
The song would sound so much more complete if he could sing the second part, but I do what I can for the two of us. He seems to feel a little better. "I'm so privileged to hear you sing."
"I want to be a singer again. I wasn't meant to be an actor."
"But you're so good at it!"
"Singing, though, that's where I belong."
"Where do I belong?"
"By my side. I want you to come with me."
"But my job..."
"I make enough for ten of us, hon. If you think I mind supporting you, you're dead wrong. We support each other. That's how it's supposed to be."
"I can't just quit."
"I mean, if you really loved it, you could stay, and I could try to keep travel to a minimum, but we'd be together so much more if you came with, more than we are now."
"I have to work."
"I don't get it. You don't love your job that much. You don't hate it, but it's not like you look forward to it in the morning, and it's not like you'd be sitting around doing nothing all day without it. Is this some macho breadwinner complex? Because I know you better than that."
"What happens after? What happens if I have to work again and there's this big gap in my career?"
"Like if I died or something? I still get royalties from as far back as PTX Vol. I, Allie. My income from all my movies and my music would transfer to you. You'd be fine."
"I just don't like the idea of depending on someone else for my living. What if we broke up?"
"We're too far in for you to be worried about that, babe. It's been two years, almost three." Most people are talking about tying the knot at this point, not separating.
"What do you see when you look forward five years, ten years, twenty years, forty years? Do you see a future for us?"
"Don't you?"
"What do you see?"
"I see you with a little girl. I never really wanted one, but I would if you did. We'd adopt someone young, maybe one or two, but not a newborn. She'd have a name, and maybe we'd change it, or maybe we'd keep it the same. She wouldn't look like us. Maybe she'd be a different race. She'd still be our daughter just as much as anyone can be a daughter, and we'd love her. Or maybe it's still just the two of us, but we're traveling together, and I'm singing all over the world again, and I'm finally getting to show you all the places I've been and explore all kinds of places we still haven't gone together. Maybe ten years from now I'm a producer. Maybe you start a novel. I think you'd be good at it. And maybe forty years from now, you're still benching me and I'm just a frail little old geezer."
"How can you see that?"
"With my imagination."
"I can't see it. I can never see it."
"What do you see?"
"Me, alone, wishing I were somebody else."
"Who?" I ask gently.
"Someone with purpose, someone who cared enough to do something with his life that people cared about. I meet people like you, and like Scott, but I'm not like you."
"You see yourself alone? Without me?"
"I'm just hoping blindly that there's some future there for us, because I don't know what it looks like or how to get there. Sometimes I feel like I'm just here while it lasts."
"Did you see a future with Scott, when you were together?"
"Kings of the world... it was stupid."
"But you did, and it ended, and you can't see anything anymore."
"I'm sure it'll all work out. I don't think it's a good idea for me to quit my job, but I think you're right. I think that if you want to sing again, you should sing."
"I don't want to leave you."
"I don't want to hold you back. I'll be here. I'll pick you up at the airport and drop you off. I'm a pro at Skype."
"I bet you are."
"You're gonna be amazing, you know. I'm excited for you."
