Page 58 of If This Gets Out

As soon as we get a break between songs, I make my way over to Zach, and duck my head in. “Keep an eye on Angel. I think he’s taken something.”

Zach’s face clouds as I pull away, and in the back of mymind I can already see the headlines.What insult did Ruben whisper to Zach onstage last night? Inside source gives us the catty details on the latest in their dramatic feud.

It’s time for us to perform “Guilty,” complete with Jon’s updated choreo. Impressively, even though Jon was only taught the new moves a few hours ago, he nails them, and injects them with enough passion and charisma that I’m sure Valeria is side stage somewhere beaming. Jon’s like all of us in that way. He’ll resist where he can, but, ultimately, he jumps when and how he’s told to jump. I guess he can reconcile this with his morals by reasoning that he was forced, and that he’s doing it for everyone’s good.

I can relate to that.

I’m so busy focusing on my own moves, and glancing at Jon to admire his new set, that it takes me several seconds to notice Angel has changed up the way he’s dancing. He’s supposed to be in time with Zach and me—a symmetrical unit at the back of Jon’s front-and-center dance solo—but tonight he’s adding in…stuff. More than just the usual flair he pushes boundaries with. I catch a pause and a wink at the crowd, then a pop of his collar when our hands are meant to be down, then a lip bite and a kick out when we’re meant to be standing still with our heads to one side.

Is this how he’s decided to prove his “I’m actually the sexiest one here” case to Valeria? Or is he so out of it that he’s doing this without an ulterior motive at all?

It’s a good thing I’m not trying to pull off new moves tonight, because I’m so distracted I’m relying completely on muscle memory to make it through. I plaster a smile on my face and start praying—to Jon’s god, out of convenience, because I figure He knows enough about us by now to not need extra context—that Angel makes it through this performance without doing anything he can’t take back.

By the end of the concert I’m relieved to say it could have been worse. He doesn’t stage-dive, or hurt himself, or yell anything inappropriate that could get us in headlines. But, still, I’m so tense I can barely breathe right up until the moment we say goodbye to Cologne and run off the side stage, plunged out of the laser lighting and into the darkness.

Erin’s there to greet us, as usual, but this time, so is Valeria.

“Great job,” Valeria says to Jon, squeezing his shoulder. “No notes. I knew you could do this. It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He gives her a tight smile in reply. Personally, I’m just glad that look isn’t being directed at me. He’s only just started warming to me again since my tantrum earlier this week, despite saying we were cool after I pulled him aside to apologize to him the next morning.

I catch Jon’s eye and mouth “you okay?” He goes purposely cross-eyed in response. Yup. That about sums it up.

Valeria turns to Angel now. From Angel, she receives an enormous, sloppy grin. He’s apparently very pleased with himself.

“Next time,” she says icily, “stick to the choreo. You made everyone look bad tonight. You looked like you didn’t know what was going on.”

“I knew what was going on,” he says. “I was dancing Jon’s part with him.”

“Danceyourpart.”

“I like Jon’s part better.”

Valeria looks to Erin for help, and Erin waves her off. “Angel,” Erin says as we walk. “I know everyone’s tired, but you’re embarrassing yourself. Stick to what we’ve agreed on, okay? You’re a legal adult, now, I expect you to act like one.”

I brace myself for her to press him about the drugs. Hell, even right now it’s obvious. His pupils are so dilated the irisis almost engulfed, and his jaw is working frantically. But she doesn’t. Does she… notnotice? Or does she just not care?

As we go about the usual routine of stripping and handing our clothes to our team to organize, Jon leans in to Angel and says under his breath, “What did you take?”

“Didn’t you hear Erin?” Angel asks brightly, but with an edge. “I’m justtired.”

I can tell from the glare Jon gives him that the conversation isn’t over. But while we’re surrounded by our team, there’s not much we can say to him.

If they ignore it, we have to.

Synchronized, choreographed denial.

TWELVE

ZACH

Today, 10:36 a.m. (12 hours ago)

Geoff

To: me

Dear Zach,

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