Kenny, You Spicy Hotdog! (Kenneth Harris x Dallon Weekes)

4 - Sort Me Out

Song recommendation, and title from:

Dallon's POV

The room went quiet. I looked at Zack with an expression that practically screamed 'dude, what the hell?" when the softest and sweetest lips I've ever seen pressed against my own, I couldn't help but let a moan escape my lips. The kiss deepened slightly, Kenny gripping my arms. Unfortunately, we parted.

"That... was unexpected?" I offered, as my only reaction. However, on the inside, I was about to explode.

"Looks like you really enjoyed that one, Kenny," Zack laughed. Kenny's face flushed as he spun the bottle.

"I'm not a pussy, a dare is a dare!" he explained, flustered. The bottle landed on Brendon.

"Truth or dare?" Kenny asked.

"Dare."

"I dare you to chug the can of beer you're holding."

Brendon laughed, "Easy!" He tilted his head back and let the cold drink slip down his throat. The bottle spun yet again, this time landing on me.

"Alright Dal, truth or dare?"

"Truth," I breathed, my voice slightly hoarse, still trying to get a grasp on reality.

Brendon nodded, "Okay... Did you enjoy when Kenny kissed you?"

I was frozen before a minute before I pulled my best poker face, "No! Dude, I have a wife, why would I?"

Brendon sighed and shook his head. I saw Kenny flinch out of the corner of my eye.

Was he alright?

I spun the bottle and it landed on Dan.

"Dan, truth or d-"

"OH CRAP! WE GOTTA GET GOING FOR THE MEET AND GREET!" Zack exclaimed. We all stood up and got ready to leave.

~

The show was going great. We were playing Time to Dance.

Keyword, was going great.

"Fashion magazine's line the walls now, the walls line the bullet holes!" Brendon sang out. Kenny was approaching Brendon. He usually did before the chorus, then ran back after it started. But he was getting quite... close to Brendon.

"You sure, you sur-"

That's when...

Kenny had kissed Brendon.

On stage.

In front of thousands.

And the cameras... So many cameras must have caught the sight of my one true love kissing another man.

No... what am I saying? He isn't my man, and he never was.

And I guess he never will be.

~

The show ended and I felt like crying. I just had the urge to be alone and weep on my own. The guys all stood together to watch Weezer for one last time. They were joined by Pete, Spencer, Linda, Sarah and even Breezy.

But not me.

"I-I'm just going to get some air," I breathed to my friends and wife. I pushed my way to the dressing room, and found that someone placed a ukulele on top of my shirt. I quickly changed into a loose t-shirt, and grabbed the ukulele. It had a strap, so I swung it over my shoulder and walked through the winding hallways. I finally found the door that lead to the back of the venue. The only thing there was the hot summer air and the faded sound of an amazing concert.

I sat against the building's wall and sank to the ground. I clutched the ukulele that I had likely stolen tightly, and held it to my chest.

'Have some composure,' I thought to myself. It was ironic that the one lyric I could relate to was from Time To Dance. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I began to strum any notes I could conjure.

I found myself not playing a new song, but an old one. One I had written years ago.

"Is that you or a ghost? 'Cause I can't tell," I sang, slowly being hit with waves of nostalgia and pain as I recalled the lyrics word for word. I continued, finding solace in the words spewing from my memory.

"You've been such a gracious host, but it's time to go. I take my show on the road, I'll be famous in a day. But that won't mean a thing if my senses fail..."

"Well cut me to pieces," I practically howled, letting my emotions get the better of me, "and sort me out!"

"Is this all that love is about?" the song continued. But not on my accord. Someone else was singing my lyrics, slightly off key. I shot a glance to my right, and I saw a feminine figure in the doorway.

"Breezy?" I hummed.

My wife slid down next to me, smiling warmly, "Dal, are you alright? You seemed... upset after the show."

I sighed and nodded, "Yeah, I'm just going to miss touring with Weezer, I guess."

Lie. I mean, not entirely. But it was a white lie. It definitely wasn't why I was upset. But she didn't need to know that.

"Then why don't we go watch the show?" Breezy offered. She stood up and took my hand, pulling me to my feet. When we passed by the dressing room, I quickly laid the ukulele back where it was previously and went to the side of the stage. I didn't miss much of the show, just a couple songs.

The night was great from then on.

Or so I thought it would be.