“Of course, we’re not the only ones,” I agree.
“And we’re not the only musicians, either,” Cassie adds, more animation in her voice. “If your experience is anything like mine, you’ll know there are gay performers everywhere. They prop up the whole industry.”
“Yes, behind the scenes,” I clarify.
“Not necessarily. You’ve heard the rumours about Freddie Mercury, haven’t you? And there’s Elton John, of course. And David Bowie. Didn’t he say he was gay in an interview?”
“Bisexual,” I confirm. “But Cassie, they’remen.”
She opens her mouth, but closes it again without speaking. She knows I’ve just made a very good point.
“Janis Joplin, then,” she says. “Her lover wrote that book.”
“After shedied,” I say gently.
“So what you’re saying is, we’d be the first? We’d have to break some other glass ceiling or something?”
“Look,” I turn to Cassie, press my knees against hers and hold both of her hands in my lap. “You have enough to think about. And you still need to rest and recover. I don’t want you getting worried about anything else.”
“I’m not worried,” she tells me with a hint of exasperation or frustration. “I want to know where we stand. I want to know what you think we should do.”
“I think you should focus on launching a solo career,” I answer immediately.
Cassie groans and turns away, just as she has every other time I’ve tentatively mentioned this possibility.
“Cassie, you cannot play with Stephan anymore. And Vik is gone. Evergreene is done. You have the talent. And theintelligence,” I add with emphasis. “You can go the distance, I know it. You will have more freedom and more control. You shouldn’t doubt yourself for a single second.”
Her eyes are big and blue and busy absorbing my words for a moment, and then she pulls our joined hands towards her own lap. “You can do the same. You have the talent, too. You don’t need to be dragged down by the other guys. And you can get a better manager, a different label. Maybe I can talk to Kevin.”
“And ask him to find me a new manager because I can’t stand his not-so-secret boyfriend’s ass?” I laugh bitterly. “Yeah, that’s not going to work. Besides … I’m not so sure I want a solo career.”
Cassie blinks at me. “What do you mean? YouareFemme Fatale. You write all your songs. It’s like you already have a solo career, you’re just dragging around those three men who inevitably do something to get in your way.”
“I’m not dragging anybody around. I … like them. Well, Jon, I like a lot. He’s a good friend, and he writes a lot of the songs with me. Jakob has his moments, too. And Geert…” I sigh. “Well, if he got his shit together, I’d tolerate him.”
“So you want to keep going? With them?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just…” I pause and soften my voice before speaking again. “I am not in immediate danger. It’s not urgent for me to launch a solo career. But you, I think it’s your time.”
“I … I don’t know,” she says, but I can see there’s a new light in her eyes.
“It’s not for you to decide now. You have time. But I think, if we win the Grammy next year, I think that should be the moment you announce it. You should use that win to announce to the world that you’re back and on your own terms.”
“Hmm, maybe you could manage yourself? You seem to know what you’re talking about,” she jokes.
I want to tell her that I don’t know anything but that I want her to be free of Evergreene. I want her to be safe and successful and full of self-belief.
I want so much more as well. Too much more.
“Pia,” she prompts, because I’ve been quiet too long.
“I…” I try. I really do try. But then my eyes are on her pink lips. They’re so plump and a little moist and parted just enough for me to see her white teeth and the tip of her tongue. It’s an invitation. They’re giving me the perfect way to distract Cassie away from these sadly pointless questions.
I dive in and kiss her.
I kiss her like I’ve waited centuries for the touch of her mouth. And by the way she responds, all pressure and tongue and hunger, I sense she feels the same. Her hands are on me,everywhere, and I grab hold of her around her waist. We slide closer to each other with so much momentum that we almost topple off the stool, but just in time, we tip the other way. This does, however, prompt our elbows to make an ugly cacophony of noise as they slam against the piano keys. But that doesn’t stop us kissing. Nothing could stop us kissing.
Apart from…