Clint

I didn’t know what to do. I just walked in on my brother making out with a guy. I felt dizzy. Scott was the most homophobic person I’d ever met. And just the other day Bob and I had been talking about Dave being gay...And I could have sworn that Dave was with Taylor the previous night. But then, we’d been drinking, so I was willing to write it off as imagining things...

But this was different. I knew I wasn’t imagining it. I felt like I was going to be sick, not because of what I saw so much as...Well, I don’t really know why. I don’t have anything against gay people; I just never thought that Scott was one of them. I mean, I wouldn’t have put it past him to get involved with an orgy or a gangbang, but one-on-one with another guy? And Taylor Hanson? God. My life was turning into a bad soap opera. Okay, so maybe my life was a soap opera before, but this was just really whacked.

My brain was running in circles. It was like I was trying to make sense of it all, when really it was just black and white, cut and dry, right in front of me. Scott was making out with Taylor. Why couldn’t my brain just accept that?

Because it couldn’t have happened! Scott isn’t like that. Scott is a womanizer. Scott is a wannabe pimp. Scott’s got to have children all over the world by now. How is it that I could grow up with him but have so many misconceptions about the person he really is?

I sat down in a make-up chair and watched Bob and Zac shovel food into their mouths. Taylor was having some mindless conversation with his brother and Scott...Scott was just staring at me. Maybe he couldn’t believe it either. I wanted to talk to him about it, but what would I say?

“You were making out with Taylor when I walked in.”

“Yeah.”

“Taylor’s a guy.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

“Oh.”

That won’t work. That’s totally stating the obvious. I don’t know why I even feel the need to talk about it with him. There’s nothing to say. But...God, this set is going to be really awkward. There’ll be hundreds of teenage girls out there, screaming for my brother, and will he even notice?

I mentally slapped myself. Of course he’d notice. He always noticed. And he always loved it. It’s not like this whole gay thing just showed up overnight. If he was gay now, he was gay before, and it never affected his playing. But would it affect mine?

DOES IT REALLY EVEN FUCKING MATTER? I don’t know why I was so worried about my performance. Weren’t there other more important issues at hand? Or was Scott’s sexuality even an issue that needed to be dealt with. I felt like if I made a big deal out of it that would be like saying the fact that he was...whatever he was was a bad thing. But if I didn’t say anything, I’d never be able to look at him again.

“Hey, guys...Oh...Hey, Taylor.”

Zac

I knew from the minute Dave walked into the room that hanging out with the Moffatts again had not been a good idea.

I hate Taylor. He always screws everything up. I was really getting along with Bob. How many times do I find somebody my age that doesn’t think I’m a freak just because I’m a Hanson? It was so great to meet another guy, somebody that knew what I was going through, somebody I could just goof off and hang out with that wasn’t my brother. And now, Taylor had to go and burn bridges with his family.

I don’t really understand Tay. He’s such an asshole sometimes – most of the time. I can’t figure it out. He just uses people and doesn’t even feel bad about it. I wonder if he even saw that Dave was completely into him. He wasn’t always the way he is now, but I don’t know what it was that changed him. I’m not even talking about the gay thing, although that seemed to happen overnight as well. For a while I thought that maybe all the people that used to say we were gay just got to him, but I know Taylor, and he doesn’t let the press get to him. When they said he sounded like a girl, he didn’t let it bother him; he knew his voice would change. When they said he was too skinny, he didn’t care; he knew he wasn’t anorexic like they thought. When they said he should cut his hair, he didn’t listen; he cut it when he was ready. So why would it be any different when they said he was gay? I don’t buy that, but I can’t think of any better excuse.

Taylor used to be the romantic. Everybody always thought it was Isaac, but really, Taylor was the one that was obsessed with love. Ike was more into the family thing, thinking about his future and how he wanted the perfect life, the way we had it, or so everybody thought. But Taylor was the one that wanted to fall in love. And now...It’s like he just doesn’t care.

Dave was standing there, obviously completely overwhelmed by my brother (that’s a look I’ve gotten used to), and Taylor was just smirking like the egotistical bastard I know he is. True, I really didn’t have any sort of attachment to Dave – I didn’t really know the guy – but I knew that once he figured out what Taylor really was, it would cause problems between everybody with the last name Hanson or Moffatt.

“Well, guys, we should probably get going. Maybe we’ll catch you after the show.” Bastard. He completely ignored Dave. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how much of an ass he is.

“Later guys,” Bob managed to choke out through some jell-o.

“Bye.”

Everybody else just kind of stared at us when we left. Dammit, Taylor. You’ve already ruined everything.

Scott

He just left. That was it. I don’t really know what I had expected, but he was so...unaffected by the whole situation. Maybe he doesn’t care if the world knows he’s gay, but I on the other hand, do not have that kind of security. The thought of being left with Clint was terrifying. Yeah, my other brothers were there, too, but that was in no way a guarantee that Clint wasn’t going to try to talk to me. And he was just staring at me, like I’d completely let him down. Or maybe I imagined that. Maybe I let myself down.

I stared at my face in the mirror from the make-up chair. The stylists and cosmetologists fussed over me, trying desperately to make me look perfect, but all I could see was disgusting. I made out with a guy. Gross. The worst part about it was that I liked it. I had wanted it. I had asked for it. I was a dirty faggot, just like Taylor Hanson.

I don’t know what came over me. I’d known he was gay, and didn’t that disgust me? I couldn’t remember. I knew that it should have. I should have avoided him like the plague. I should have made him get out of my dressing room when I found him snooping around in there. I should have punched him and told him to fuck off when he started checking me out.

So why didn’t I?

I’m not gay. I know I’m not gay. I love girls. I love kissing girls, I love making out with girls, I love having sex with girls. I’m going to marry a girl one day. I’m going to have children with a girl one day. Neither Taylor Hanson nor any other guy on the planet has anything to do with my sex life.

So what just happened?

I silently thanked God that this was the last day of the festival and that we would be leaving in the morning. I didn’t care where we were going; I just wanted away from him. It was then it occurred to me that I didn’t know where we were headed after this.

“Hey, Bob. Where do we go tomorrow?” Deep down, I knew the only one of us that would know that was Clint. But I couldn’t ask Clint. Bob could ask Clint for me.

“I don’t know. Ask Clint.”

Asshole.

Clint just looked at me stonily. “We’re not leaving tomorrow. We’re staying for a weeklong vacation and then we meet with Bob Rock about some new material. We might stay and write some. Dad and Sheila said it depends.”

Fuck.