Girls Will Be Boys

Now

I unlock my phone to a screen depicting one of my favourite memories from Korea: it's Carter and me on a night out in Hongdae one weekend. We both smile at the camera, the image blurred slightly from drunken motion, and in our hands we hold candied strawberries on sticks. Carter has light blue stars painted on her cheeks and at the edges of her eyes, galaxies which freckle her face like the drops of humidity that cling to our skin. I miss Carter everyday, but I sometimes wonder if she has moved on from our friendship. We'd both needed friends upon our arrival in South Korea and we'd grown in closeness over the years there. But many other friends had come and gone during our time in Korea. Perhaps I was just another one of those friends, continuing the circle of life of a foreigner in Korea as old friends leave and new friends enter.

"So has he answered you?" Malachy asks me. At the sound of his voice, I swipe away from my home screen and tap on the Instagram icon. I know what to expect: my DMs contain no response from Sebastian Byrd. I shake my head in negation to Malachy's question. Even so, I open up my DM chat with Sebastian where I am met with an unacknowledged message I'd sent him a month ago. It hasn't even been seen by him, if I'm not mistaken.

"Yeah, that's what I thought would happen," Malachy says. He sinks lower into his seat on the couch and pulls out his phone. "He doesn't want anything to do with me. Or your brother."

I pick at my pilled, pink socks as he says this. The room has gone quiet, so quiet that I can hear Malachy's cat breathing as she sleeps cosily on the chair across from me. I don't understand why Malachy and Taliesin don't like Sebastian. I'd always adored him. He was so funny and exciting to be around. Sure, sometimes he went overboard with his pranks, and sometimes he joked at times when it wasn't appropriate. But he was fun and hilarious and he was a great musician and singer.

"I haven't spoken to that guy in almost ten years," Malachy says, sniffing. "I think after BNBB I just couldn't take him anymore. The thought of being signed to the same label as him and potentially spending my music career with him was not what I wanted for myself."

Malachy and Bastian had almost gotten into some serious fights backstage. I remember not having any clue what was going on. The music from the concert was too loud, my brain sleep-deprived from weeks of minimal sleep, and I was too hopped up on the adrenaline of performing for thousands of people to take notice of anything out of the ordinary. It did explain why, after a dress change between songs, Malachy and Bastian once came back on to perform from opposite ends of the stage wearing what they had been wearing before. We were all supposed to wear our white outfits for a specific performance, but they were still in their sweaty streetwear outfits.

"It's been almost ten years. What if Sebastian is changed now?" I say. I look over at Malachy and his face is emotionless as he looks down at his phone in his hand. His leg is bouncing now, convincing me to stop talking because he looks cross.

My phone buzzes suddenly. My eyes dart to the screen to see if it's Sebastian. It's not Sebastian, but it is my brother. I read the message and then let out a long groan. It says: "Im not gonna message Bastian sorry. You can do whatever you want but i dont wanna get involved with him again." I toss my phone away and cross my arms, glaring down at the coffee table in front of me. Then I notice that Malachy is looking up at me from his phone, expectant.

"What's up?" he asks.

I look back down at the coffee table, glowering, and take a deep breath in before letting it slowly out again. "Taliesin doesn't want to talk to Bastian either." I sit up in my seat then, crossing my legs. "I don't understand why you guys don't get along with him."

Malachy snorts. He sits up taller in his own seat, clasps his hands together and says: "He hacked into my Twitter account and said 'I'm gay' for all the world to see. Do you remember that?"

I almost didn't remember it. When it happened I was already in a bunch of trouble of my own when a Mockingbird executive found out my own secret. I was terrified of what might happen to me now that my secret was out that I barely took notice of anyone else's personal ordeals.

"I don't even know how he found out," Malachy says, "but he somehow knew that I was in the closet and he posted that before I was ready to tell anyone." He shakes his head, staring off into the distance. "My parents called me right after that to see if it was a joke... and I didn't know what to tell them so I just ended the call. I didn't talk to them again until Christmastime."

For a moment, I just stare at Malachy. His brown eyes are fiery but full of pain.

"I almost left the music business," Malachy says, his voice calmer now. His cat has joined him on the couch, stretching her back and approaching him for pets. He reaches out a hand and strokes her ears, quiet now.

"I'm sorry," I stutter, nearly under my breath. "I didn't know. I was... I was in a different headspace back then, I had no idea." And my heart lurches in pain from the memory. The tweet that Sebastian posted about Malachy preceded my secret's big reveal by mere days. Malachy went from having his privacy violated on a worldwide scale to finding out his biggest crush wasn't who he thought they were. I swallow hard and cautiously look over to Malachy there on the seat across from me. I can't believe he's even here now, talking to me, allowing me into his precious London home. To me, I feel as though I'd committed the biggest sin of anyone: I'd broken his heart. Sebastian and Malachy hadn't ever really gotten along amicably, but me? I was Malachy's favourite and I ruined that for him.

"It's all right," Malachy says after a minute of silence. He's still petting the cat, not looking up from her. "I know you were struggling with things back then, too." He smiles at me then, and I can't help but smile back.

And then someone knocks at the door loudly. My and Malachy's heads swiftly turn towards the sound. The cat jumps down from the couch and walks over to the door, and Malachy promptly follows. After Malachy peeks out of the window beside the door, he unlocks the door and swings it open excitedly and without a word. Standing on the front step is the coolest-looking guy I've ever seen: Freddie Dexter—the myth, the legend, the Australian rockstar from the BNBB days.

"How's it going, mate?"