“Yeah, but—”
“Uriah. Your boyfriend is on stage right now singing to twenty-one thousand people. He just can’t pop off stage to see if you’re here.”
“Wait, they sold out?”
“When we announced that there wouldn’t be a tour for at least three years, all of the stadiums have sold out.”
I brimmed with joy at that. For all their fear that this album was going to tank them, this tour had been nothing but amazing for them.
“How did it go?” Hailey asked.
“Me?” I grinned. “They hired me on the spot.”
“Oh, my God! Uriah! That’s amazing!” She threw her arms around me. “He’s going to be so proud of you.”
Austin was the one who had encouraged me to try shifting from the stage to the small screen. When the chance to costume what people were calling the nextGame of Thronesin space came up, I put together my portfolio, my concept board, and hiked up to their production headquarters.
I was the only designer who had something in mind that went with theGame of Thronesmore than thespaceconcept. They handed me the job and a big, fat paycheck.
It paid to read the source material. Always.
But it had meant leaving the band for all three dates in Germany, the one in Romania, and two in London. I didn’t want to, but shifting gears had to happen. And after my early morning interview, I had gotten on the first non-stop to Manchester.
I squeaked in with just two songs left, and the four song encore.
Hailey handed me some headphones and walked to the entrance to the stage.
UDLR looked amazing as usual. They had let me dress them, giving them five outfits for the different nights. That way, no one saw them wear the same thing if they came to multiple nights.
They would put on the suits I made them for the encore, and I knew the ladies—and the gays—would go bananas.
No one looked better in their suit than Austin.
Of course, I was biased.
It was my suit on my boyfriend.
Everything had just gotten better after he came out. We went on dates, we held hands, we kissed, we wereinPride. He and Noah, Ora and Ford, Marcus and Chase had managed to get a place and make a float. I got to ride with Up Down Left Right, Robot Servant, Nelson Powers, and the whole damn Gaggle.
It had take us both a while to finally sayI love you. We were both scared. But finally saying those words as we watched the sun rise over Uluru in the Australian Outback had been natural. One of the most perfect moments of my life.
He had also become a major face for LGBTQ Suicide prevention. We both had—he said it wasn’t as impactful if we weren’t standing there together.
[Hey, Uriah!] Ford signed to me when he saw me walking up.
[Hey, Ford. What are you doing here?]
[Robot Servant played Glasgow and we came down. Couldn’t miss the last day.] He was utterly giddy.
[Got your ears on?]
He snorted. [Not yet, not this close. The feedback would blow my eyes out of my head.]
I nodded and pointed to the headphones. [I get it!]
“You made it!” Aubrey said and signed. It was a habit we’d picked up around Ford.
“I would miss it?” I asked.
