From the way his eyes are sparkling, I can tell it’s a joke. Chorus Management jumped on the fact that my parents are from Spain as soon as they found out, convincing our songwriters to include a Spanish bridge for me to sing in our first single, “Guilty.” The problem being that I barely speak a word of Spanish. Mom and Dad spent weeks teaching me to pronounce the words correctly, and I still picture Mom’s look of despair at my pronunciation every time I perform it live. Tonight was particularly embarrassing, performing it in, you know, literal fucking Spain. The crowd loved it, though. Even if I do have a feeling they loved it the way people love watching dogs trying to walk on their hind legs.
I shake my head. “I probably haven’t ever eaten, like, ninety percent of the menu. Home cooking isn’t the same as restaurants.” I glance at the menu, then, grudgingly, add, “But if you want some suggestions, I’d go for the croquetas, the patatas bravas, and the gambas al ajillo.”
“You’re sexy when you speak Spanish,” Angel says, and I know what’s coming. “Don’t you think so, Zach?”
Angel thinks Zach’s jagged comment about my appearance the other day is the height of comedy. In fairness, he doesn’t know the full context—as far as he’s concerned, Zach’s comment was just a straight guy being insecure in his straightness, a concept that Angel obviously can’t personally relate to. So, because he’s Angel, the only reasonable response is to take every possible opportunity to make Zach squirm like that again.
From the pained look on Zach’s face, it’s obviously still working.
It’s made matters worse that the clip of Zach essentially calling me hideous has been making its rounds on the Internet under the hashtag #ICantReallySeeIt. Everyone has a hot take—Zach’s right, and I am hideous, and he should say it; Zach’s obviously better looking than me and he should’ve been on the list in my place; I’m obviously way better looking than Zach, and Zach’s got a jealousy issue; the whole band is full of eyeliner-wearing pretty boys and anyone who thinks any of us belong on a sexiest men list needs their vision checked, stat. And on and on and on.
I could kill Angel right now.
I try to catch Zach’s eye to silently … apologize? Laugh about Angel’s brashness? I don’t even know. It doesn’t matter, anyway, because he acts like he doesn’t notice.
Erin orders on our behalf instead of me, much to Angel’s disappointment, then takes a photo for social media—the real reason we’re here, whether Erin admits it or not. While she sends it to David so he and the rest of the publicity team can upload it with just the right caption, Angel turns to his phone and raises his eyebrows.
“Apparently, we all hate each other,” he announces, waving around his phone like it’s irrefutable proof.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Pauline says, clearly eavesdropping from her nearby post. Erin beams at her.
“Now what?” I ask. Zach’s eyes flicker toward me, but he doesn’t say anything. He looks miserable. As much as his words hurt, and I want him to regret them, I still get the urge to grasp his hand under the table and assure him it’s fine, and this will blow over in a day or two.
“Apparently the ‘sexiest men’ article tore us apart from the inside.” Angel passes the phone to me, and I scroll through the story, published three hours ago in a popular celebrity gossip blog.
… A source close to the band confirms. “The Months by Years tour has placed a strain on the boys’ relationships. The mood has definitely gotten colder, especially since the Opulent Condition’s Sexiest Men list was released. Some of the boys have started to resent the attention given to certain members.” While our source declined to confirm which band members are feuding, an argument during a recent livestream might shed some light. On Thursday afternoon, in a private livestream session for select fans, Zach Knight took pointed digs at fellow band member, Ruben Montez. Following a comment by Angel Phan on Ruben’s placement on Opulent Condition’s list being well-deserved, Knight responded, “I can’t really see it.” Fans were quick to notice tension between the two. Another source, who declined to be named, doesn’t seem surprised. “There’s always been issues between Zach and Ruben,” they said. “In front of the cameras they’re on their best behavior, but behind the scenes it’s a clash of personalities. Constant fighting, vicious words—it’s even gotten physical a few times. They’ve also been assigned different dressing rooms so they can be separated and the rest of the staff can catch a break.” Trouble in paradise? Who would’ve thought this group of “close friends” secretly disliked each other so much? Their fans must be devastated by this news.
I roll my eyes and pass the phone to Jon. Zach reads over his shoulder.
“‘Constant fighting,’” I say. “Who might this ‘source’ be, exactly?”
“Fakeperson McDoesn’t Exist,” Angel supplies.
“It’s incredible how much stock people think we put in the opinions of Opulent Condition readers,” Jon says. “Like we’re all hanging around with bated breath waiting for their validation.”
“Easy for you to say, Number Twenty-Two,” Angel shoots back.
“It’s just an article,” Erin says. “It’s better to avoid that stuff. It’s just gonna get you down. You know the media.”
“True,” Zach says. “They’ll make something out of nothing if they can.”
Nothing, huh? So attacking my appearance publicly was just no big deal? Whatever, move on? I flare up with a sudden anger, all thoughts of comforting him vanishing.
“They’re really taking the ‘I can’t see it’ thing and running with it,” Jon says, ignoring her. “Must be a slow news week.”
“Yeah,” I say, pouring myself a glass of water. “It’s a total shock that Zach wasn’t able to make a shitty comment about me on a public platform without repercussions.”
Zach reels back. I can’t tell if he’s guilty or offended. Like he has a right to be offended. “I already said I was sorry,” he says.
“Did you?” I snap. “I must have missed it.”
“Boys, boys,” Angel says, laying his palms on the table. “You’re both pretty.”
That just pisses me off more. “It’s not about that. It’s about being respectful.”