The flashing lights, the endless paparazzi, the over-enthusiastic fans pulling at him… it was all proving to be a little too much for Mark and he needed an escape. That was how he found himself at Fuchsia; a club in a lesser-known part of London in need of a drink or twelve. The only problem was that he hadn’t managed to escape them. He fought his way through the crowds of people – some eager to take a picture with him and some clawing at him just to get a piece of him. The paparazzi were relentless; the collective flash from their cameras seconds away from giving him a killer headache and, had it not been for his sunglasses, blinding, and the reporters with their repetitive on going questions were tiresome. He covered his face as security rushed him towards a side entrance. As he made his way through the club-goers, various women grabbed at him keen to impress him in an attempt to bed him and he wondered why he had even bothered to show up.
A tall blonde in nothing more than what could only be described as her underwear covered in a sheer dress clung to him, “Fancy a night-cap, big boy?”
He cringed at her words, wondering how he could possibly get away from her when something caught his eye bringing his attention to the spot where she was waving her arm wildly in the air, desperately trying to gain his attention.
The blonde purred in his ear, grazing her hand up his thigh; “So? How about it?”
“Oops! There’s my girlfriend!” Leaving the woman flabbergasted, he pushed his way through the hordes of people, practically running towards the brunette who stood in a roped off section slightly higher up than the rest of the dancefloor. He leaped up the small flight of stairs, taking two at a time until she met him at the top.
He threw his arms around her, whispering in her ear as he did so; “I’m so fucking glad to see you. I need you to be my girlfriend for the night.”
She moved back, holding his forearms at arms-length, blinking in confusion, “Hi, . Thank you for meeting me here tonight. How are you?”
He rolled his eyes, grinning cheekily at her, “Hi . Thank you for coming. How have you been?”
She shook her head, giggling at him, “That’s better.” She took him by the hand and led him to a private booth. They sat down, her practically sitting on his knee as she moved closer to talk to him, “What’s going on?”
Mark sighed heavily, leaning towards her ear, “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. The paps are out in full force and I don’t particularly feel like being groped by every sleazy woman in this place.”
She squeezed his hand gently, giving him a pained look, “They wouldn’t if they knew –”
He cut her off, shaking his head profusely, “That can’t happen. Not just yet. I’m not ready.”
She nodded slowly, understanding just how delicate the issue was, “Well then; I guess I can do that – if you really need me too…”
He hugged her tightly, “I do need you – and it’s only for tonight. I promise.”
She sighed against him, “I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
“I do. Thank you.”
She pulled away from him and gave him a smile.
He embraced her again, “I love you.”
Her smile fell, “I love you too.”
“Now: how about a drink?”
Drinks flowed as the heavy bassline pumped out around the club. Whilst the atmosphere before may have been filled with stress and far too many female hormones for Mark’s liking, and a little uneasiness on ’s part, it had not long done a one-eighty twist and had become filled with joyous laughter and drunken fun. Even though the booth they were in was private, it still provided a view of the lower dancefloor and just as easily as they could see out, other people could see in. Whilst she had been apprehensive and slightly annoyed at having to physically deceive the few over-zealous fans of his that had managed to present themselves as sane people to the club’s bouncers in a bid to follow their favourite popstar into the club, had decided to simply play along with him and try to keep their staring out of her head. She had agreed to meet Mark at the first club they had partied at when she had met him in London to celebrate the success of Westlife’s first single all those years ago in an attempt to help him unwind from the stresses of being a world-wide superstar. He had been miserable for far too long and she just wanted to see him happy again. It wasn’t his doing by any means that he was so down but it certainly didn’t help that he had a secret looming over him; a secret that, if it was revealed at the wrong time by the wrong people, could send his (and his friends’) career hurtling to the ground. The sheer burden of it alone had caused him to find comfort in several drinks already. had been keeping an eye on him once he had sunk his fifth shot in as many minutes. She could tell that the pressure of fans and other club-goers watching was getting to him. For every time she looked out at the crowded club at least ten pairs on eyes were on them. She knew that had he not been keeping something from them that their stares wouldn’t even penetrate his thoughts but given the situation, every pair of eyes seemed to be weighing down on him as if they were burning through his mind trying to establish just what he was holding back. With every drunken “be-my-pretend-girlfriend” kiss they had shared he had been getting more passionate as if he had something to prove to the onlookers and with each drink he was getting sloppier, his voice getting louder and louder over the course of the night and threatening to leak his story right there and then.
As he struggled to get up from his seat, she put her hand on his arm and pulled him back down. She leaned in closer to make it look like they were having an intimate conversation:
“I think we should get you sobered up a little so we can leave.”
He scrunched his face up, “Whyyyyyyy? I’m having fun.” He tried to poke her cheek with his finger and nearly missed. Had his finger been any higher he’d have taken her eye out.
She raised an eyebrow at him, “That’s why. You can barely see straight, never mind stand and I can’t carry you to a cab all by myself. Plus you have tour meetings from eleven tomorrow and you’ll thank me for you not being so hungover when I have to wake you up at eight.”
She waited for a response. He was looking at her with such a sad expression and although she felt guilty for potentially running his fun, she felt responsible to get him home somewhat sober.
He rested his head on her shoulder, “I love you, y’know?”
She sighed, “I love you too.”
“Will you stay with me tonight?”
She nodded even though he couldn’t see, “Only if you switch to water for the next few drinks so that I can actually get you home.”
He blew out a big gust of air as if letting go of all of his worries, “Fiiiiiiiiine.”
“Good man.”
The following day it was safe to say that Mark was feeling a little bit worse for wear. Scratch that; a lot worse for wear. had woken him up around eight to the promise of a couple of cans of Redbull and aspirin if he would “just get out of bed” and stopped trying to go back to sleep “every two minutes” otherwise he would wake up with no eyebrows… or pubes. It was only when he had woken up for the fourth time that he had realised that she was being serious when she had appeared over him with a can of shaving foam in one hand and a razor in the other, causing him to bolt upright and flee out of bed and into his en suite despite the looming pain in his head and the overwhelming urge to throw up. had just laughed. It was an infamous trait of Mark’s that he was one of the worst people to wake up in the morning and did not envy his tour manager for being the one to wake him up on the road – something they had flipped a coin for the last time they had spoken. What she did envy though was his ability to fall asleep anywhere and at any time that he pleased. He had even fallen asleep standing up once with only a plasterboard wall holding him up and she had had to hide the urge to knee him square in the privates for having the cheek to drift off whilst she was in the middle of speaking. Whilst he had assured her that it was only because he was exhausted and not that he had found her topic of discussion boring (something which, even if he had, he would never tell her for fear of waking up with no eyebrows – something she was notorious for promising when seeking revenge on those who had wronged her), she still couldn’t shake off the feeling that maybe she was boring and had refused to speak to him until later that evening when he had practically grovelled on his knees after turning up at her door with a table lamp in one hand (an inside joke they had shared for almost their whole lives) and a bag of food in the other by way of an apology that he knew she wouldn’t have been able to resist. And he had been right. As soon as she had clapped eyes on the lamp she had burst into laughter and thrown her arms around his neck. She stepped out of the room to let him get ready; she wasn’t going to stick around when the drink finally got to him and he started vomiting. She could handle a lot of things but sick wasn’t one of them.
Freshly showered and dressed for a day of meetings, Mark had to admit that he felt a little better than he had at three in the morning when he had awoken to the persistent need to throw up. He didn’t even remember getting back into bed or how he hadn’t managed to wake up , who had been sleeping next to him, in the process. He decided that he would need to ask her how she had slept through the commotion he had been making when usually it only took the quietest of noises from outside to end her slumber. He was glad that although he was still hungover that he didn’t feel as sick – although he could feel the onset of a major headache. Hopefully the calm feeling would last him until they arrived at their management’s offices over a two-and-a-half hour drive away in Dublin where they were kicking off the tour in a couple of weeks but first it was time for day-long meetings and then onto rehearsals. Fortunately for the three Sligo lads the dance rehearsals were taking place in Shane’s gym-come-dance studio in a few days’ time so he still had more than a couple of days to see his family and a chance to sleep in his own bed before travelling for most of the year again.
The journey there took longer than anticipated and the meetings even longer. They had stopped to pick up Kian and Shane on the way and despite their pick up points being less than ten minutes away, Mark had managed to fall back asleep almost as soon as he had sat down in the back of the van. had sat up front with the driver to discuss their travel schedule and arrange a pick up time. Being up front also gave her a chance to charge her phone with the built in cigarette lighter without trailing cables throughout the vehicle whilst she had made some work calls. Kian and Shane had talked animatedly throughout the journey – although careful as to not wake up their sleeping friend – in between taking their own calls and listening to the radio in the lulls of their conversations. Whilst traffic had been fairly quiet and Mark had woken up fairly easily, they had still managed to be late by a good ten minutes. Luckily for them, most of the big wigs who had attended the first meeting had also been late, giving them enough time to be seated and get their lunch orders (or breakfast, in Mark’s case) in to be eaten in the gap between their first and second meetings. Unfortunately for them, though, it did leave them with less time to enjoy their comfort break before even more executives and technicians had shown up.
had been keeping an eye on the lads during this time acting as their personal assistant, a job that she had been more than happy to undertake when their tour manager had caught wind of the news that she had just left her worst job to date (don’t ask) and was looking for a new adventure that didn’t consist of a regular nine-to-five. She had known three quarters of the band for most of her life and the other quarter for around nine years so she was already well accustomed to their needs as a group and as individuals, and the fact that they could be pains in the ass just for the fun of it – particularly Mark. Speaking of Mark; he had been very quiet throughout the day, more so than his usual self and she could tell that the others had noticed it several times between them without them even having to tell her. He hadn’t been that responsive to them joking around during their breaks, blaming it on a headache and pulling his hood up over his head to indicate that he didn’t want to be disturbed. Anyone else would think it was so that he could be left in peace to recover but knew different. This was the affect that his secret (and his hangover) was taking on him and she couldn’t do anything apart from hand him another bottle of water and some painkillers. had always been good at reading people and, depending on the person or situation, it could be an advantage or a hindrance. It was great when she wanted an honest opinion on something but also a curse – especially when trying to make new friends. She found out that these days most people only want to you for what you can give them or for who you know and she just wasn’t up for being used like that.
It wasn’t until it was edging closer to a new day when it was finally time to leave. The tour preparations had taken far longer to settle and work out the logistics of which only made their short deadline even shorter. As they were leaving the building Nicky called out for to wait.
Her head snapped round to find him in the dim light provided by a couple of lampposts and some lights attached to the outside of the building, “Yeah?”
As he jogged down to where she had stopped at the bottom of some steps the rest of the lads who were going back home to Sligo got back into the van. She saw Mark peek his head out of the door in search for her and when he found her, made a “come on” gesture with his hand directed at her.
“Give me a couple of minutes,” her voice rang out as she replied to him. He nodded, ducking his head back in but keeping the sliding door open for her. Thankfully the place where the offices were was in a private, monitored area and they could wait for her without fear of getting attacked by fans who, unless they were stalking them, would never know that they were there in the first place.
She turned her attention back to Nicky who had now reached her.
“Hey, ; is Mark alright?”
“Yeah… why wouldn’t he be?”
Nicky shrugged, his hands in his pockets, “He’s just been a lot quieter than usual and me and lads thought that something might be up.”
looked out at the vehicle, hoping that with any luck Mark would be asleep by the time she got there, “He’s just hungover. He went a bit wild last night and he’s still kind of in the huff with me because I might’ve threatened to shave off all his pubes this morning.”
Nicky gave her an amused look.
laughed, “Long story. He wouldn’t get out of bed so I threatened him with a razor.”
Nicky rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He knew all about her infamous shaving pranks. In fact, he had almost been victim to one a few years back but luckily had woken up in time which had thrown her off even trying to remove his eyebrows. She had tried to act innocent, the razor held behind her back, but he had known what she was up to. It would’ve served him right if she been able to go through with it as he had pinched her bunk out of laziness not even an hour prior knowing full well that, given her height, she wouldn’t have been able to reach his when the time came for her to go to bed.
Mark flailing his arms caught her attention and she giggled, “Seems like I’ve gotta go,” she gave him a hug, “Give my love to the fam.”
“Same to yours. See you Thursday?”
She nodded and they partied ways. Given that he already lived in Dublin, Nicky had the luxury of being able to drive his own car to their meeting point which he had parked nearby. She climbed into the van, grateful that she hadn’t worn a skirt. Clocking that the only free seat was next to Mark, she sat down next to him and pulled the door shut. Thankfully he had (predictably) already dozed off and didn’t stir in her presence. Kian and Shane were too busy on their phones to even notice that they were pulling away. Taking out her iPod, she placed her headphones over her head and sunk back into the seat. With any luck it would be a quiet journey back home and Mark would be out of his mood by the time they had to leave again.
Three and a half days later and the tour rehearsals were already underway. Their choreographer, Anthony, had already gotten to work putting them through their paces for “World of Our Own” – one of their more up-tempo numbers and it was really starting to show on their faces. Whilst it was more or less the same choreography as the last tour, they were a bit rusty – just picture dads doing boybander moves whilst simultaneously doing the “hands-in-the-pockets-so-my-change-doesn’t-fall-out” dance and you’ll get some vision of what they looked like. It was amusing to to see them attempting to dance; although she had to admit that they had gotten better at it over the years. She wasn’t complaining either; most of their dance routines consisted of them shaking their asses at the crowd and what kind of fan wouldn’t be thrilled at being within feet away of that? Whilst rehearsals didn’t necessarily require her to be there (dance was not her forte and it was questionable as to whether or not she could carry a tune), she had tagged along for moral support and to get into tour mode so that her mind was focused for when they moved onto the first venue.
She had longed that having something else to concentrate on would provide a welcome distraction for Mark but her hopes had proved her wrong when she had observed him practicing the moves, his face immediately completely giving it away that he was working extra hard to get them right because he was too preoccupied with his inner turmoil. She could see it written on his face exactly when his mind would slip from counting his steps to going over different scenarios in his head and it showed in his failed attempts at nailing this particular routine. She had even given him a pep talk or two, telling him to “get his head in the game” (Author: Go Wild Cats!) in the hope that some tough love would straighten him out a bit and finally get him focused enough to get it right. It hadn’t worked though and she could see just how much his thoughts were getting to him. It surely hadn’t gone unnoticed by his friends either, much like it hadn’t during their meetings. She just wished that she could help him out more than she was but it just wasn’t possible and unless someone invented a machine that let you deal with your friends’ thoughts instead so they could concentrate then she figured she would be a long time waiting to be able to make things easier for him.
Meanwhile, in Mark’s head, his mind was whirring at a hundred miles per minute. Part of him had been contemplating just blurting it out and dealing with the repercussions and the other half of him wanted to run away, create a new identity and not come back. Either way; neither was making his ability to re-learn the routines any better. He sighed to himself. It shouldn’t be this hard. Obviously it was a big thing that he was thinking about doing as it was such a big part of his life and he couldn’t contain it any longer – he shouldn’t feel like he should have – but being able to be true to yourself should never have such a weight to it where you feel like running away from it all. He knew he should just “man up” and face his fears but until he could, his thoughts would forever haunt him. They were already causing him to lose sleep when he was alone and they weren’t doing him any favours in the concentration department either. He had even taken to calling late at night when he couldn’t sleep to distract him enough to forget about his dilemma for just a little while in order to fall asleep. He was being torn apart and he was close to feeling like it just wasn’t worth the hassle – to feel like he had to keep it a secret or to just keep it all inside. Both options made him feel sick to the stomach. Not only did he have family and friends to keep abreast of what was going on in his life but he also had a duty to his fans to give them correct information straight from him first without them finding out in some sleazy, half-assed article written in the tabloids that contained very little to no accurate information. He wanted to let everyone into his world because had heard from that the others were concerned about him but something about that didn’t feel right; like he was being pressured to tell them even though they had no idea what he was going through. If they had known then they would’ve asked him out right about it instead of making a sort of go-between. He desperately wanted to be as private as possible and only tell the main people in his life to start with. He knew that his parents should be his first port of call with something of this magnitude but coming from a very small village in Ireland where everything was conventional down to a tee he was worried that his revelations may be met with narrowmindedness and – at the very worst – a public shunning. He just hoped that he knew his parents well enough to be able to bring up the issue without a major argument breaking out.
He sighed again as he looked at the clock; it was already 3:31. He had less than an hour and a half to go before they were given the night off. That seemed like a reasonable amount of time to try a bit harder to focus solely on getting his moves down.
“Fancy going out for dinner and a movie tonight?”
Mark’s question had somewhat taken off guard as she was packing up to leave. Sure; they usually ate together and more often than not would fall asleep somewhere in between their second and third movie but there was something in his tone what made her question his motives. She raised an eyebrow at him and he tilted his head at his band mates who were tittering away in a corner watching his every move. followed his gaze; they weren’t even being discrete about being able to hear them.
It finally sunk in what he was doing, and not being one to leave him hanging, she played along; “Are you asking me out on a date?”
He cleared his throat; “Yeah.”
She put on her best smile and playfully punched his chest, “It’s about time.”
“So; you will?”
She giggled, “Yes; I will go out with you.”
He pulled her into his embrace, whispering in her ear, “Thank you.” He looked over her shoulder at his friends. They had a sort of confused-dashed-with-weirded-out look upon their faces and he couldn’t tell whether that was a bad thing or not.
“You owe me,” she whispered back. As he pulled away he could see the playfulness in her eyes; she was just joking.
“I will buy you dinner for the rest of your life for helping me out.”
She gestured at him dismissively, “I told you; I’d do anything for you. If I’m your only ally then I’m sure as hell going to be a good one. I’ve got you.”
“You’ve been a great one since we met – since way before any of this started.”
She shrugged, “What can I say? I’m amazing.” She giggled. She wasn’t full of herself and she didn’t like to point out when she was really good at something.
“Meet you at mine at around seven? I have something that I need to take care of first.”
She nodded, “Sure. I’ll be there.”
“Great,” he pressed a kiss to her cheek before dashing out, “I’ll see you later.”
She waved after him. She had a sneaking suspicion as to what he was up to and she just hoped that it would work out right for him.
Not long after she had pulled into the driveway, heard the crunching of gravel. Rolling onto the stones was a familiar car. She realised it was Shane’s. It soon was joined by Kian’s. She wondered if Nicky would be making an appearance too seeing as he had travelled all that way for rehearsals. She was met with an answer a few moments later when he stepped out of the passenger side of Shane’s car almost in time with Shane and Kian as they too got out – just one of the idiosyncrasies of being in a boyband who had to perform dance routines in sync on tour. Their doors also closed in near-perfect timing and had she been in a playful mood she would have applauded them. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she wondered why Mark hadn’t told her that they were going to be showing up as well until she figured out why he hadn’t; he didn’t know they were coming. She was being to get nervous as to why they were there. There could only be one reason for their impromptu gathering; they knew Mark’s secret.
“What are you lot doing here? I thought wasn’t going to see you again until tomorrow at Shane’s?” She tried to gage how they feeling based off of their facial expressions. Whilst they seemed to be happy she could tell that something was on their minds.
“Is Mark here?” asked Nicky as he removed his sunglasses, walking on the gravel towards her.
She shook her head, “Not yet. He’s supposed to be here soon unless he gets held up. Why? What’s wrong?”
“We’re just worried about him and we know that you know what’s wrong with him.”
The three of them gathered around her and, had she not known two for them for almost as long as she had known Mark then she would’ve felt a little threatened with them closing in on her.
shrugged her shoulders, “It’s really not my place to tell you. You should ask him about it if you’re that concerned or – and I think this is probably the best thing for him right now – just remind Mark that you’re there for him if he wants to talk and just let him tell you in his own time.”
They shared a look with each other but it was mostly for show. It seemed that they had already made up their minds about what to do before they had even began their journey to his door.
“Do you mind if we waited with you until he gets here?” Shane inquired, scuffing his trainer-clad foot on the stones.
hesitated. She knew that they only wanted what was best for him but at the same time she wanted to respect his privacy. She had a feeling, though, that her words would be meaningless in this three-against-one situation.
“Guys I really don’t think that’s the best idea,” she tried to reason with them, trying to give them a good enough reason to go away before they made her tell them what Mark was covering up, “You could try talking to him during tomorrow’s rehearsals or when you’re travelling next week. I don’t think he’ll appreciate the ambush.”
Again the trio looked at each other and for a brief second she thought that they would let it go and revisit it another time. She was wrong.
Kian cleared his throat, his voice a little deep than usual as he spoke, “We’d rather wait here for him.”
She swore a thousand times over in her head. She loved them dearly but they could be rather infuriating. Seeing that there was no way that they were going to leave until they had gotten an answer, tapped out a text message to Mark:
to talk to you. They know
something is wrong. Can
make up an excuse if
you want me to xxx”
Putting her phone away, she indicated that they were to follow her inside. She groaned inwardly to herself. She just hoped that Mark would see the message before he came home.
As Mark pulled into his driveway he began to get nervous. There, already in the driveway, were a couple of cars that he recognised; ’s, Shane’s and Kian’s. His palms began to sweat as he sat stationary for a minute or so, debating whether to just drive off again or to go in. He looked towards the house and at his living room window. was already staring back out at him. Damn it, he thought. She had already seen him and it was too late to back away now. He shut off the engine and took in a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He got out of the car, making his way to the door and opening it. Stood before him in the entrance way were his three bandmates and his best friend. His blood turned cold as he realised why they were there.
stepped towards him; “Sweetheart; your friends are here because they know something is going on with you.”
His heart started to race and the urge to run away dramatically returned.
“A word, please.” He didn’t give her any time to respond as he clasped his hand around her wrist and dragged into the downstairs bathroom. He slammed the door behind them.
“What the hell is going on?” He was panicking.
She sat down on the edge of the bath as she tried to calm him him down as he paced around the small room; “The guys know something is up with you and they were worried about you. I’m worried about you.”
She reached out to grab his hand in an effort to soothe him but he pulled it away from her, outraged; “So you thought you’d have an intervention?”
She had never seen him like this and it was scaring her, “Babe: it wasn’t my idea. I was coming here to meet you when they pulled up and practically cornered me. They wanted to know what was going on but it’s not my place to tell them so I didn’t. I just suggested that they raise their concerns to you and to let you know that they are there for you when you decide the time is right for you to tell them. I didn’t expect them to practically demand to stay and wait for you. That’s why I sent you that text. I was trying to warn you.”
He barely looked at her as his pacing amped up, “What text? I didn’t receive any messages when I was out.”
She groaned inwardly; that was why he hadn’t answered her.
He threw his hands up in the air, “What am I supposed to say to them? Sorry guys but the reason why I haven’t been myself lately is because I have this massive secret hanging over me and it’s eating me alive? They’ll want to know what it is and then what do I tell them?”
He stopped moving, instead walking over to the sink and placing his hands on the edge of it. He hung his head over it, different scenarios running through his head.
studied him. It pained her to see him so upset.
She stood up, taking him by the hands and making him look at her, “Babe; calm down. Everything is going to be OK. I’m here and I’m not going to let you do something that you’re not comfortable with. We’ll work out what to say to them.”
He just stared at her blankly. His mind had gone blank with anxiety.
She rubbed her thumbs over his hands, “You’re going to be OK. You can just tell them that you’ve been feeling more anxious than usual because you’re about to head off on tour for a longer time than what you’re used to and it’s really been making you feel ill just thinking about leaving.”
He suddenly felt compelled to nod at her. He knew that what she was saying was making sense. Plus they couldn’t stay in the bathroom for much longer without suspicions arising.
He took in a deep breath, “Let’s do this.”
stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind her; “He’s just sorting himself out. He’s really been having a tough time with his nerves.”
The friends nodded. They knew he was probably the most sensitive out of the four of them so for him to be wary about their upcoming tour was natural to them.
The door finally clicked open and Mark emerged. He stood in front of his friends, uttering two words that even hadn’t prepared for him saying:
“I’m gay.”
Silence fell upon the room and a tension began to build. Then something very strange happened. One by one his three friends started to grin. In fact; they started to laugh. Mark looked wildly at . Despite all their years of friendship he couldn’t tell whether or not they were laughing to be hurtful. She shrugged at him; she had no idea either. She moved to be closer to him in case a major fallout was about to occur.
Shane broke from his laughter, “Is that it?”
Mark just stood there in disbelief. They were… OK with it?
“Jaysus, man! We thought you were going to pull a Brian on us or tell us you were dying!” Kian was the first to hug him.
“I…eh…” he was rendered speechless as the weight of his secret lifted from his shoulders. He hadn’t expected for his revelation to be taken so well – not because he didn’t think that his friends would be understanding or would like him any less but because there was still a stigma around being gay, particularly in a boyband. All he could do was glance several times between his other three friends over Kian’s shoulder.
Kian let go of him and Nicky and Shane replaced him, attacking Mark with a joint hug.
“So…uh… you guys don’t mind?” Mark was still in a state of shock.
Nicky gave him a confused look, “Why would we?”
Mark realised that he didn’t have an answer for his question.
“I don’t know about you two,” Nicky addressed Kian and Shane, “but I’ve kind of known for a while now.”
Mark’s face contorted, “How?”
Nicky shrugged, “It just made the most sense as to why you’ve never really dated women and why you’ve never gotten together with any of your female friends – particularly this one,” he gestured towards fondly. She just rolled her eyes in a sarcastic fashion making light of it all. “I’m guessing that’s why you asked out today; to cover up that there was something going on.”
Mark just looked at him, stunned. He hadn’t realised that he had been so transparent.
The other two males nodded along with him. They had figured it out as well.
“I think we all knew on some level,” Shane pointed out.
“Yeah,” concluded Kian, “it’s not a big deal to us. We get that it is for you because obviously it’s a big part of your life and, given the way that the press has treated other people who have come out, we don’t blame you for being so freaked out about telling us.” Nicky and Shane continued to nod their heads in agreement.
Marks shoulders fell in relief. They got it. They actually got it.
patted him on the back, “See? I told you everything would be OK.”
He took hold of her hand, smiling down at her as he squeezed it. He was still reeling from the immense welcoming his secret had been given and didn’t quite know what else to say. Even though everything was now out in the open, he wanted to draw a line under it for a while – or for the rest of the evening at least. Inviting his male friends to stay for bit, to which they declined, satisfied that they now had all the information they needed, he planned to get his original schedule with back on track; takeout, movies and plenty of alcohol. He had figured he would need it but given how the evening had gone thus far, he would be drinking in celebration. Even his parents had greeted his news with open arms when he had told them not even an hour before. Everything finally felt as if it was falling into place; that he could finally be who he really was. His only issue now was making sure that when he was ready to go public for the sake of being honest with his fans, that it was done tastefully and on his own terms.