Page 43 of Make Me Laugh

Comment: Who’s going to West’s show in Portland, Maine tonight? *side eyes*

Comment reply: ME! Will have updates

Comment reply: Thank you for your service!

Okay, maybe I was a little judgmental.

Maybe I did the same thing everyone else does to West—judge him based on the things people who don’t know him say.

It’s his choice to portray himself the way he does, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still a person outside his stage name.

I’ve watched Frankie play characters on stage her entire life. Belle in Beauty and the Beast, Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, Sandy in Grease, Elle in Legally Blonde, three of the seven Von Trapp children. Or my personal favorite, Wednesday in The Addams Family. And now she’s Frankie Lou—a tragic name picked by her label, but nonetheless, a star waiting to be discovered.

Point being, if Frankie can put on a face and be someone completely different off stage, why can’t West?

Isn’t that what I do when I put Hex’s mask on too?

Sound check goes as expected, although much quicker than Frankie’s with a full band. I get some videos and introduce myself to the club’s manager, the bartender, and a few of the crew members backstage.

I was told I’m free to go wherever I need, and invited to watch the show from the sound booth where I can film.

The boys are finishing setting up and getting things ready for the show, which gives me a moment to sneak away and change.

Making my way to the camper in the back parking lot—where I guess we’ll be sleeping the next couple nights—my phone rings with a FaceTime call. I truly hadn’t thought I’d be agreeing to sleep underneath West in a smaller-than-normal bunk bed, but here I am!

I answer on the third ring to Frankie’s up-close face, but don’t give her time to say anything before asking, “Did you know there was a third guy?”

“Kell? Yeah, Enzo told me about him when we went to get coff—oh, and I forgot to tell you.” She smiles with all her teeth, attempting to look innocent. “Sorry, is he weird?”

“No, he’s fine,” I reply with a shrug when I notice Frankie’s still in my apartment. “Are you—” I start.

“I decided to stay at your place,” Frankie divulges. “I have plans tomorrow night in the city, so if I go home, I’ll have to come back to feed Grim and then go back home. Plus, Hilda said she’s making cod tonight since you’re not here, and I don’t want to miss that.”

Frankie doesn’t eat a lot of meat, but she does love good seafood here and there, and I can appreciate that Hilda loves me enough not to stink up my apartment like fried fish while I’m there. “Open a window while she’s cooking.”

I grab my bag off the dinette bench and pop an earbud in, heading to the back for the first time. I manage to close the door, but I don’t think the lock works. I’ll have to change fast.

Zoning out on whatever Frankie’s talking about, I look around the room I’ll be sleeping in for two nights.

“What’s that look for? Is it filthy? Let me see.” She comes closer to the screen. “Oh, Jo, I’m sorry. This was a dumb⁠—”

I shake my head, and she stops talking. “No, it’s not.”

Actually, it’s really fucking clean for three dudes. The top bunk isn’t made, but that gives Kell energy, and I barely know the guy. The bottom, West’s bunk, is made, but more thrown together than the queen-size bed in the middle of the small room.

Enzo’s bed looks like he spent twenty years in the military.

It’s not the smallest RV, but these three are also not the smallest men, each of them over six-feet tall. I prepare myself for a weekend with no privacy.

On West’s bunk, there’s a handwritten pastel purple sticky note on his pillow. Lavender is my favorite color, or it’s at least the one I like most next to black… but when you look like me, you can’t go around telling people your favorite color is black.

I reach down and grab it, showing the paper to Frankie before reading over it quickly.

Thanks for taking a chance on me. I promise not to fuck it up.

“What does it say?” Frankie whines.

I’m positive it’s from West even though I don’t know his handwriting. “Um,” I say, swallowing as I read it over again.