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‘I’ll try to think of something,’ he replies.
‘I could do anything with you,’ I say honestly. ‘Anything and nothing at all.’
For a long time, I didn’t think I’d have something like this. The tour keeps me so busy it’s almost impossible to date casually, let alone find someone who wants to spend time with me because they simply want to spend time withme; who isn’t blinded by the money, or the fame, or the ‘glamorous’ lifestyle.
Noah’s the kind of guy who picks you up a coffee without asking if you want one. He’s the kind of guy who never asks for his comfiest hoodie back. He’s the kind of guy who eats the green lollies and leaves you the red ones because he knows you love them. He’s the kind of guy I’ve always wanted, but never dreamed I could have.
I wish I could live in this moment forever. I’d drive with Noah for hours, with salt lingering on our skin, grains of sand between our toes and ABBA playing on the radio.
But I can see Melbourne on the horizon, the skyscrapers like a shimmering mirage, and I know today must end.
‘You better win tomorrow,’ Noah says as he drops me at my hotel. ‘I’m not ready to let you go just yet.’
18
Noah
The Rosewood gives me a new uniform, and it feels weird to go back to work. Smoothing out my button-down shirt, I look at myself in the mirror. Black makes me look thinner than I am, and I think I rather resemble a ruler; tall and rectangular. I grab a pair of second-hand dress shoes and tie up the frayed laces before popping into Margie’s office and saying goodbye.
‘Good luck,’ she says, shooting me a quick smile before going back to the essay she’s marking.
The Rosewood is a fifteen-minute walk from my house, just on the edge of the city. It’s a fine afternoon and the city is swarming with people soaking up the sunshine, so I’m not surprised to find the Rosewood buzzing when I arrive. Waiters navigate the crowds with trays of cocktail jugs and pints. I get to the front of the line and introduce myself to the bouncer as a new staff member. She looks me up and down before letting me through.
Inside, I can barely hear myself think over the chatter and music. Compared to Mark’s Place, the Rosewood is a zoo of activity. A drag queen waits at the bar, her enormous foam glitter wig almost brushing the lights that hang overhead.
I weave my way through the throng to the bar, where I get the attention of one of the bartenders, a woman with blue hair and an eyebrow piercing. ‘I’m looking for Bella!’ I yell.
‘You must be the new hire!’ she calls in reply. ‘Come out the back—it’s quiet there!’
She opens the side bar and I follow her into a small back office which is thankfully much quieter. ‘Take a seat. Bella won’t be too far away.’ She closes the door before I have a chance to introduce myself.
A moment later, another bartender steps into the office. He’s tall, taller than me, with a mohawk and black kohl smudged around his eyes. ‘Hey there, fresh meat.’ The bartender grins. ‘I’m Bella. Pronouns are she/they.’
Well, fuck my cis-gendered heteronormative brain. ‘I’m Noah and he/him. Thanks for calling me in.’
She chuckles. ‘As you can see, we’re smashed. The upstairs bar is quieter and Peaches’s act starts in an hour, so I’ll station you up there with Kai.’ Bella hands me an apron. ‘We’ll have the paperwork ready for you at the end of your shift. Pay is above award plus casual. Questions?’
None come to mind, so I shake my head. Bella leads me upstairs to a small theatre and I see Peaches on the stage, testing the audio beneath the blinding lights. She spots me.
‘Darling, you’ve met the lovely Bella,’ she says, crossing the floor in her giant platforms. Bella pokes her tongue out at Peaches playfully as Peaches touches my shoulder. ‘Sweetie, what happened to Mark’s? It’s been closed the past few days.’
‘Long story,’ I admit. ‘I’ll fill you in later.’
Peaches gives me ayou betterlook before tapping Bella on the shoulder. ‘Look after him for me, Bels.’ Then with a wave she strides back over to continue testing her set.
Bella gives me a run-down of the point-of-sale system and sticks around as customers begin to file into the room. She ducks out when the lights dim, leaving me to handle the rest of the drinks.
I’ve never watched Peaches perform before; she lip-syncs to Britney Spears, does an act involving a lot of bubbles, riffs on the audience and finally plays a bizarre round of bingo where she raffles off a meat tray.
Kai, the other bartender, pops up towards the end of the show and helps me serve customers as they make their way downstairs. Peaches saunters over just after eight.
‘G—’
‘Gin and tonic,’ Kai and I say in unison. We look at each other and smile.
‘I see I’m getting predictable,’ Peaches mutters as Kai makes the drink.
‘So,’ Peaches says, leaning over the bar. ‘What’s the deal with Mark, sweetness?’
