Now though? I’m sure something malicious is happening.
We’ve spent the past two days shooting our solo scenes, each in front of a partially built set backed by a green screen. I posed with a futuristic sky-blue Aventador, and I was put in a custom black-and-blue leather racing jacket that was so tight it was like a second skin. My hair was spiked up and a few of the front strands were temporarily dyed blue by Penny. Each of us has a color motif for the video: Ruben is red, Jon is gold, and Angel is white.
For each chorus, we have a group choreo scene. In the first one, Ruben and I were kept apart, at opposite ends of the band. We’re halfway through filming the second group number now, and it’s happening again. This whole video, we’re as far apart as we can possibly be, when we always used to be side by side.
We go through the number for what’s got to be close to the five-hundred-thousandth time. Erin is on set, watching us carefully, her arms crossed.
“And, cut,” calls the director. “I think we got it.”
“Home time, boys,” says Angel.
The energy in the room quickly changes, as now it seems like all anyone wants to do is get away from here. Lighting guys turn off the dozens of lights pointed at us, sound guys start packing up their equipment, and our director slumps down in her chair.
“Hey, Zach,” says Ruben. “Got a sec?”
I nod, and follow him through the set, to a quiet spot.
“Have you noticed anything weird about this video?” he asks.
“Are you talking about how they’re keeping us apart?”
“I am. Tell me I’m not the only one who thinks that was see-through?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? It could just be a coincidence.”
“You haven’t been dealing with this stuff as long as I have, and trust me, there are never any coincidences when it comes to Chorus.”
“Right.”
“But I dunno, maybe we’re overthinking it.”
That seems unlikely. I trust Ruben’s judgement. If we both noticed it, then chances are high that it is actually a thing. That they actually are keeping us apart to try to keep our relationship a secret.
“I have an idea,” I say. “Do you want to find out for sure if they’re up to something?”
He pauses for a moment.
“I do.”
* * *
My plan is kind of simple, but I think it will work.
At the end of this video, there is a “candid” moment. It happens when we’re done with the routine, and the plot is wrapped up. Angel’s character has won the race, and there is a shot of us all celebrating for him.
The plan is for us to interact while filming this, and see how they respond.
The set we’re on is another green screen. This time, we’ve been told it will be set up to look like we’re at the finish line.
“And, action!”
Angel, who is holding a neon trophy, beams while Jon applauds. I go up to Ruben, and put my arm around him.
I can feel the tension on the other side of the camera. Erin’s clearly biting her tongue.
“Nice work,” says our director. “Let’s go again.”
Penny rushes over to me, and starts dabbing my face with a makeup sponge.
“What are you up to?” she asks, whispering under her breath. “I think Erin is about to snap her iPad.”
“That would be like murdering her child, no?”
Penny laughs. “Just be careful. They’re watching you.”
She moves away to fix Angel’s makeup.
Once take two is rolling, I move over to Ruben, only this time I don’t touch him, I just stand next to him, to applaud Angel.
The shift in the room is immediately noticeable.
But we’re just standing next to each other. It’s not like I’m kissing him or even holding his hand or proclaiming our mutual love of Lady Gaga. Why would they have an issue with this? In a way, I get staying closeted until after Russia, but right now, this feels excessive.
Our director rubs her forehead. “We’ll go through one more time, then we’ll have a break.”
Now comes the time to properly test our theory.
“Action!”
This time, Ruben and I don’t interact at all.
“And, cut! Great work, boys, I think we got it that time!”
My stomach sinks.
* * *
The video shoot went almost half an hour overtime, which means we’re rushing to make it to the meet and greet.
At this point, meet and greets aren’t a super common thing for us. They used to be: with every show people could buy a VIP ticket and get the chance to meet us. I always felt a weird mix of excitement and awkwardness during them. It was so great seeing fans, but the rushed nature of it made me feel uncomfortable. Plus, people often told me deeply traumatic things that had happened to them, before the photo was taken and they had to move on. I never knew what they wanted me to say back to them, and felt guilty I couldn’t properly respond to the devastating news they told me.
So I’m not exactly disappointed that with our increased celebrity came increased security risks, so meet and greets ended, save for special occasions.
This special occasion is a contest run by Prosper, the mega-conglomerate that owns a share of Galactic Records as well as a few dozen other companies. A magazine owned by a different subsidiary of Prosper ran a contest in which the winners would get to meet us, and in order to keep them happy, Geoff sent us.
Our bus pulls into the back lot of the theater. Two Chase guards climb out first, to check the area, and once they say it’s safe we all get out, and go into the backstage area of the theater. We’re led straight down the hallway, toward the stage.
Erin turns around, blocking our path.
“Hey, boys. Given our situation, we’re going to do this a little differently for group shots. Ruben, you’re going to stand next to Jon, and Zach, you’ll be next to Angel.”
Ah.
Our new formation.
It seems it’s extending even past the video.
“Okay,” says Ruben. “This is ridiculous. We can all see what you’re doing.”
“It’s just until Russia,” she says. “For your safety, we want to make sure word doesn’t get out until then.”