Frustration -SERIES- [Part 2] Headphones & Reveries [boyxboy]

Chapter Two

Dinner was over and the real party was starting, the dance floor having been cleared of tables and the swing band taking to the stage.

Conor nudged me and grinned. 'Wanna dance?'

'Like, no,' I said emphatically, but there was no point, because he'd already steered me by the elbow towards the dancefloor and then he was dancing and I was sort of hopping from one foot the other awkwardly, like I needed to go to the bathroom, but not urgently.

Conor was laughing at me and leaned in to say so only I could hear, 'How can somebody so good at sex be so bad at this?'

'Because,' I replied, deciding it was time for some revenge, 'my favourite kind of dancing involves removing my clothes,' and it worked. His grip on my hips tightened as he swung me around and gazed at me hungrily.

Soon we were joined by some of Name Withheld and their dates, and then our circle grew even larger as Chloe Watson and some of her other model friends laughingly crashed our party, which was surreal.

'I'm gonna go get a drink,' I said after a while, excusing myself, and Conor followed me through the crowd on the dance floor towards the bar.

'There you two are,' Harley's voice piped up again as he ambushed us. 'Come to the bar with me, we need to talk shop.'

We followed him and he ordered three cocktails, then turned to face us dramatically.

'I'm launching,' he announced after a pause for flair, and waited for our reactions.

'Holy shit,' I said. 'Congratulations, man.'

'Yeah, really well done,' Conor said, grasping his arm in support. 'What's the plan?'

'I'm doing it full guerrilla style,' he told us, lowering his voice so we had to lean in close, in case anybody overheard. 'Spring/Summer 2016. Pop up fashion shows during Fashion Week this September. No warning. Completely viral marketing campaign.'

'That sounds awesome,' I commented.

'I agree,' he stated smugly. 'But listen. My viral campaign. I need models.'

We waited for clarification but he just looked at us meaningfully.

'You mean Name Withheld?" Conor blurted after a moment, looking surprised.

'Not exactly,' Harley said conspiratorially.

'Just Conor?' I asked, trying to reconcile the feelings pride and inferiority that were both bubbling up in my brain again.

'No, silly, both of you,' Harley finally revealed, grinning broadly at us with excitement.

I was stumped. 'You mean like... Him and me?'

Harley nodded enthusiastically.

'Wouldn't you prefer he do it with the rest of the band?' I couldn't understand why he would even suggest it. Even the least popular member of the band was still a lot more marketable than me.

'Are you kidding?' Harley asked, deadpan. 'My whole brand is about the gay,' he said dryly. 'That's my cult. Everybody loves the inner gay. You two,' he waggled his fingers at us, 'are the hottest, most high profile gay couple in the country.'

I was less than convinced. 'So maybe you should just use Conor then,' I suggested, speaking about him in the third person like he wasn't right beside me. 'Wouldn't that make more sense? He's the high profile one.'

'Oh honey,' Harley said indulgently, grabbing me by the chin and twisting my face this way and that. 'It's gotta be the package deal.'

'We'll do it,' Conor said easily, interrupting before I could even voice my protest. I glanced over to see he was grinning.