Captivated

Part 94

I woke up the next morning alone...but she had left a note. She'd gone to breakfast with her family and had a car booked to take her away. My pulse accelerated as I read the words, panic rising in me as I began to believe she had left without saying goodbye. Then I read on...She had written she knew I had a busy day – I had told her about my photo shoot today – but she had plans that would keep her in London for a few days, so she'd hoped I wouldn't mind if she took me up on my offer for her to use my flat as her base for a couple of days. Mind??? Mind??? I was delighted! This was exactly what I had wanted when I'd given her a key. I wanted to be surprised, I wanted the stolen moments, I wanted her to feel like she belonged there – because she did belong there.

I messaged her immediately to tell her I couldn't wait to see her tonight and I'd be thinking of her all day. Then I headed down to the hotel gym – I needed my muscles to look as primed as possible for the afternoon's shoot. It was for Gay Times magazine. I've done shoots for Attitude before – there will always be people that make assumptions if you do articles for gay magazines that you must be gay, but that's part of the stigma I'm trying to dispel. Like, if you dance you must be gay – I've been getting that assumption since I was 12. I'm used to it. Adam says it is best not to clarify either way and I actually agree with that. It isn't really anybody else's business. And as this was a front cover shoot, I was more than happy to be interviewed to say pretty much that. I don't believe in labels after all. I just know that the last two people I have fallen in love with have been women. But that won't stop me having amazing support from the gay community, so I will always reflect that and support them. So, if they want to read articles about me, I'm more than happy to provide the content.

But back to that morning. The hotel was busy. The gym was not, and I took full advantage of it. I've always been keen on selfies and mirrors, and, aside from a fake tan that needed to be scrubbed clear, I was looking good. Some people would think that's vain, to evaluate your appearance like that, but when you are a dancer, you spend a lot of time looking in mirrors and constantly critiquing yourself. Dance is a visual art after all. You have to know what you look like when you move. Modelling was similar. You had to have a good idea of how you looked in different poses. It was similar to dancing in many ways.

Of course, with the hotel being busy, there was always the chance of running into fans in the lifts and other communal areas. I do remember getting into the lift and being faced with a girl who was a bit tongue tied. I smiled at her and she said she'd been to the show the night before. It was all polite and made me excited for the tour coming up – there were so many fans who would love the show.

Then, as was my usual routine, I checked my hotel room carefully before checking out. I had a lot of stuff, but I managed some strategic packing that meant I could stack everything on my suitcase and wheel it down to the lobby. It was real. The tour was over. No more clandestine sneaking into Lauren's hotel room. No more stolen kisses backstage. No more reason to be seen together.

But we had a whole future awaiting us...I took a boomerang in the back of the car waiting to transfer me back to my flat. Goodbye O2. I didn't add, but wanted to, hope to see you next year. It had been an amazing end to the tour. But it was up to us to shape what happened next.

And what happened next was...I got home to the sound of the washing machine on a spin cycle, and a note on the kitchen table. She had gone for a long run. She'd written that she knew I'd look amazing on my shoot. She'd also added that she hoped I didn't mind that she had commandeered my washing machine in the name of Steadman. And that when she had finished running, she would be going to the nearest supermarket buying dinner for the evening.

A ping from my phone interrupted my reading. Adam. Car en route for photo shoot. Time to go. And I would spend all afternoon thinking about the evening to come.