Page 13 of The Prodigal Son

My head picks up, my interest piqued.

“In the morning?” I ask.

“No, next Tuesday,” she replies with sarcasm. “Yes, in the morning.”

I glance down at my phone. It’s only eleven thirty, and we don’t have a show tomorrow.

“Does that mean we can go out?” I ask with excitement.

She turns around and gives me a stern expression. “Yes, but just a few beers andnohooking up.”

I huff in frustration. “What? You think I can’t make it back in time?”

“If anyone can go out, find someone to fool around with, and make it back in five hours or less, it’s you,” she says coolly.

“Aww…you’re just saying that.” I smile brightly.

“I’m serious, Isaac. Just a few beers.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

She takes a quick shower and I’m right behind her. The tour manager isn’t going to just let us leave on our own, so we have to have a driver take us with security nearby. But at this point, I don’t give a shit. It’s been nothing but work for a week straight, and tonight, I’m ready to have some fun.

Lola and I are the only two going out. The rest of the band, Hugh, Rio, and Waylon, rarely party with us, anyway. Hugh is married and travels with his wife, Rio is like sixty, and Waylon prefers to stay in and unwind alone.

Lola picks a local bar that seems low-key enough, and we climb into the back of a black SUV together with two security guys dressed a little more discreetly than before. It’s not a gay bar, much to my disappointment. But I get it. It would blow my cover, big time.

I never set out to spend my career in the closet. This isn’t how I wanted it to be, but my image grew too fast before I had a chance to say something.

Not to mention, the country music fan base isn’t exactly the same crowd who cheer on the pop stars who come out. I don’t know how they’d react, and I’m terrified to find out.

And then, of course, there’s the issue of my label not knowing I’m gay. They asked me to sign on the dotted line and I never thought to stop them and say, “Hey, by the way, you should know, I enjoy sucking dick. Will that be a problem?”

So, yeah. The likelihood of getting that tonight is very slim to none, but I’ll happily settle for getting drunk at a bar on a rowdy Saturday night.

I slip out of the SUV with a pair of shades on, and Lola looks back and laughs at me.

“What?” I ask. “I want to be incognito.”

She loops her arm through mine as we make our way inside. It’s a loud, busy bar with a dance floor to the right and a long bar that is brimming with people. Feeling instantly exposed and uncomfortable, I’m in desperate need of a drink.

Just when I think this is a stupid idea, the security guard ushers us to a set of stairs on the right.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Someone called ahead and reserved you a VIP table up here,” he says.

Lola and I make eye contact, sharing an expression of surprise. We’re not really VIP people. We’re more dive bar, hole-in-the-wall-type people, but this I could get used to. Especially when they show us to a large area with a private bar, servers, and large tables occupied by others.

“Welcome,” a cute server says as we sit down at the table. “What can I get you guys to drink?” she asks.

Before long there is an entire bottle of Tito’s on the table between us because neither of us felt right ordering beer in a place like this.

“Holy shit, isn’t he an actor?” Lola asks as she nods her head to the table next to us.

I turn around to see some fancy action star behind me with a throng of women around him.

“Oh fuck, yeah, it is. He’s even hotter in person,” I whisper back to her.

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