“Did you get suspended?” you ask, getting right to the point.
Kai heaves a sigh. “I won’t know until Saturday. They take all week to review the game film, and they hand down penalties and fines on Saturdays. My union rep tells me that I should prepare to appeal if it’s a multi-game suspension. I dunno. Just have to wait it out.”
“How are you going to appeal anything?” Even to your ears, you sound incredulous. “Are you going to try and pretend youdidn’tbeat him with his own helmet?”
His face is stony. “There were a lot of bodies on the field. They’re going to have a tough time getting a clear shot of the inside of the pile to determine if he hit me first.”
“Did he?”
He purses his lip. “There was a lot going on. Can’t say for sure.”
“Bullshit.” There’s your mouth working without your brain, again. You really need to work on that. But the proclamation is out, so there’s no point not following it up. “You swung first, and you know that.”
“Do youwantme to get suspended?” He raises an eyebrow. “It kind of sounds like you do.”
“No!” You will yourself to take a deep breath. To try and curtail the runaway train of frustration and pent-up anger that’s threatening to speed off and drag you behind it. “I don’twantyou to get suspended. That’s all we need. More bad press. Jesus Christ. I don’t know what you were thinking.”
Frowning, Kai sits up. Your view on the screen shifts drastically as he holds the phone in his hand, looking down at it. “What I wasthinking,” he says, “is that Tamatoa asked me if getting my brains rocked had made me retarded. And asked me if my boyfriend had found a new charity to throw money at after the old one fired him for diddling hungry kids.”
Internally, you are grimacing, but you don’t let it show.
“That’s not even surprising,” you say. “It’s fucking Tamatoa. Of course he’s going to mock you. Ofcoursehe’s going to bring meup and say the most heinous thing his pea-brain can think of. He was trying to bait you, Kaius. And, of course, you fell for it.”
“Is this about the press?” he asks coolly. “Is that what’s got you upset?”
“Of course it’s about the press!” you explode. “Come the fuck on! Youknowthe battle we’re fighting here to get good headlines and stop the constant negativity. My reputation is in the fucking gutter, and you decided it would be a good idea to act like a caveman on prime-time TV? Not even thinking how that kind of behavior reflects on both of us?”
Kai nods, although you haven’t said anything that you figured he would agree with. He looks pensive. Pensive, and sad. The little part of you that doesn’t have steam coming out of your ears hates seeing him look like that. It’s a tiny part, though, and it’s locked up deep under a heavy burden of overcooked irritation and held-in feelings all rushing out at once.
“You know,” he says slowly. “This isn’t easy for me, either. You aren’t the only one with feelings, Sterling. You aren’t the only one going through all this. And it’s cool; I know that you are working through your shit the best you can. But it’s not that easy playing Sterling Grayson’s Perfect Boyfriend all the time.”
You areshocked.Nothing he’s ever said to you has surprised you more than that. Offense roars into the void in your brain, sloshing up the circuits and making your synapses light up bright red.
“Are you kidding me?” Your voice is fully raised right now. “You think I want you toplay a part? I have beenhurting, Kai. Everythingsucks. And you think I want something fake from you? My partner?”
“You think I don’t know that you’re hurt?” he fires back. “I do, although I must be some kinda mind reader.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You shut me out,” he says. “You refuse to talk to me, and I respect your space, and you hold even more shit inside. And then, when you can’t handle it all anymore, you use me to smack you around just so you can feel something.”
Up until now, you have been standing in the middle of your room. His words make you sink into the chair in the corner, dizzily. “That’s not fair to bring up,” you say unsteadily.
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” he demands. Kainevergets angry. He never raises his voice, never isn’t gentle. This feels like peering behind a mask that you only just discovered. “You never let me in, Sterling. I’ve had to fight for every concession I’ve ever got from you. The right to hold your hand in public. The privilege of sleeping in bed with you. Why does it feel like I’m always having to earn your trust? And that you just want to pull it away at any given moment?”
You have to laugh. It sounds discordant in this, the middle of your first actual fight, but you can’t help it. You’re just that incredulous. “You don’t understand my life. Nobody does. I thought maybe you were starting to get there. You, of all people. I guess I thought…”
“Try me!” he growls, cutting you off. “You think I don’t fucking understand? I get it just fine, Ster. You’re emotionally unavailable, and you hide it behind being the most famous person in the world.Hi, I’m Sterling Grayson, and nobody gets to look behind the curtain.It’s pathological, your inability to just be real.”
“How more real can I be?” you yell. “I called you because I care, Kai! If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t bother! And you’re going to start throwing accusations about my personality? That’s not toxic at all. Totally mature. Way to support my career.”
“I havealwayssupported your career,” he says. “I have supported it, and understood it, and let everything between us take a back seat. You told me before we went to London that your career was always going to be your priority, and I honored that. Never questioned it. Is it so much to ask that you supportmycareer a little bit?”
Honestly, you are stupefied. “How much more do you want me to support you?” you ask. “I showed up for games even when I was touring…”
“You don’t understand football,” he interjects. You are getting really sick of being interrupted. “Fights happen. Injuries happen. If you don’t like the reality, maybe you need to reconsider dating a professional athlete.”
Stung, you lash out without even somewhat considering your words. “Maybe I do, Kai. I guess I just don’t get the deep and meaningful significance of oversized meatheads knocking each other over during a stupidgame.” You suck a ragged breath. “Oh, and by the way? Aggression is a sign of CTE. You know, from that head injury that you said you were good to start playing with again.”
