Page 2 of Please Hate Me

“Well then, we’re two peas in a pod. This ain’t really my thing either.”

I could have guessed that just by looking at his boot-cut blue jeans, but I wasn’t going to be rude to him. Instead, I just laughed.

“Oh, yeah? Then why are you here? VIP tickets aren’t cheap.”

“Few of my colleagues are into this stuff, and they were worried I’d get myself into trouble, so they stuck me up here.”

His impossibly broad shoulders squared, and his expression soured like he’d bitten into a lemon.

“I’m a... public speaker, of sorts. A preacher, to be more accurate. I’m more or less the face of the organization, so they can be kinda... overprotective.”

“Wow. So… you’re a religious man?”

God dammit.

My exit strategy depended on finding someone willing to have a one-night stand, and a religious guy probably wouldn’t be into that. Worse than that, my head was already swimming with fantasies of him doing unholy things to me. It was hard not to feel a little let down.

“Yes... and no.” He took a swig of his beer. “I believe the Lord has a plan for us all. I believe Jesus Christ died for our sins, and I strive to live by His teachings. But...”

He took another drink.

“I’m not exactly a model student.”

That statement caused me to perk up a little.

“In what way?” I asked, trying to sound like I wasn’t mentally undressing him.

“I’ve got a boyfriend back home. And a girlfriend. Homosexuality and polyamory are both sins, in the eyes of the church.” He took another gulp and finished his beer.

I felt for him. I had known I wasn’t straight for a long time and was even in a polyamorous relationship in high school. But when my music career took off a few years ago, I was terrified to come out publicly.

Most of my fans were open-minded, but I still had people calling me hateful names and telling me I was going to hell. And that was hard enough to deal with— I couldn’t even imagine the kind of hatred he’d face as a gay religious figure.

“You should never feel ashamed of who you are... or who you love,” I told him.

He smiled bitterly. “Thank you for saying that.”

There was a lull in conversation as we took in the sounds of the concert. After a while the band began playing a slower song, and the crowd became a sea of lighters and phone flashlights.

“So... what are your partners like?” I asked, not really caring to listen to my dad sing a song he wrote about my mother before I was born, back when the two didn’t hate each other.

The mystery man smiled and looked toward the sky.

“My girlfriend’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met. She pushes everyone around her to chase their dreams and live their best lives. She’s a COO, and she handles the business end of our farm.”

“And your boyfriend?”

“He’s a bit of a hothead. Can’t keep himself off of drugs, either. After everything he’s been through, I can’t blame him. But it hurts my heart to see him that way.” The man cleared his throat. “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about your life. You with anybody?”

I squirmed under the weight of his question.

“My fiancé and I broke up a while ago. She... was only interested in me because of the life I could provide… I’m actually terrible with relationships.”

Why was I telling him this? He was a stranger, but even with that, he felt safe.

“How so? I can’t imagine a tiny little thing like you bein’ mean to anyone.” He laughed.

It took me a second to realize he was trying to make me laugh and not making fun of me.

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