That night, after a celebratory drink with Arnaud, he packed his spare key into the envelope. Then, first thing in the morning, he paid for the fastest shipping possible so it would reach Luka on time.
It gave him the courage to request the interview, even if he’d almost embarrassed himself at the end by crying on live TV and had to rush off stage.
Arnaud had been waiting in the wing for him, and they silently walked together to the greenroom, where they were able to close and lock the door. Reno cried, then, finally letting it all out while Arnaud held him in his arms, telling him over and over that now, Reno would be okay.
Reno believed him.
Renowasgoing to be okay. Even if Luka never came back, he would survive. He would make music, and he would hold his friends in his arms, and together, they would celebrate the wins when they could get them.
But that didn’t mean he was giving up on Luka, on asking him to come home. They could be together now.Openly.
People would still try to invade their privacy, but it would betheirprivacy,together, that they would have to protect. Because Luka had been right to want this, and Reno wanted to believe that Luka could handle this life with him.
They could hold hands in public. They could announce milestones online, go to events together arm in arm, and post photos of each other on their pages. If there was nothing more to hide, the tabloids would get bored, and fast. What would they say? ‘Oh, there’s Reno and his boyfriend Luka, again. We already knew that.Moving on.’
Reno left work with a smile on his face, still thinking about the people there who had shaken his hand, grateful not to be feeling so alone anymore. He waved bye to Jasmine on his way out, who forced him to come back to the desk to give her a huge hug.
“I’m so proud of you," she said, squeezing him tight. “What’s next?”
“Why is there always a next thing, Jas?” Reno pulled away from her.
“You always have something up your sleeve.”
“You caught me.” Reno flashed a smile. “I’m going to the jewelry store.”
Jasmine’s eyes widened and Reno let out a delighted laugh before turning away and going out the front doors.
When he was finally home, he tucked the matching pink and white rings into a little wooden box. He took a sharpie, scribbled ‘888’ on the top for good luck, then hid it in his safe. He prayedhis angel numbers wouldn’t let him down this time, but they never had before.
His lucky life was proof of that.
A few days later, Reno woke up with a start to the sound of the door opening and closing.
He scrambled to the edge of his bed to reach under it and was halfway to pulling out his emergency-in-case-of-robbery bat from its hiding place when the bedroom light clicked on.
“Oh my god, Luka?”
“Is that apinkbaseball bat?”
Reno had so much trouble putting two and two together with Luka standing in his bedroom doorway, he blurted out, “It has Hello Kitty on it.”
“I can see that.”
“Arnaud gave it to me. As a joke.”
“Hikaru.”
The bat fell from his grasp and rolled back under the bed as Reno launched himself up and into Luka’s arms.
“Luka.”
He was there.
He wasthere. It wasn’t a dream after all.
He was a mess. Reno pulled away and ran his hands through Luka’s faded hair, his blond roots, his cheekbones looking too sharp. He looked so tired, worn down, and Reno wondered if he had been eating properly.
“My sweet Luka, what did you do to yourself?”
