We were on stage, the Hammersmith Apollo. Brendon was singing, his beautiful voice shaking the room and my own ears. All eyes in the room were on him. He's such a show-off. I suddenly noticed my growing feelings towards Brendon and realised that I was beginning to stare at him. He was gorgeous, his stage-presence over-taking everyone in that room’s mind. We were starting the last song when I came out of my daydream. “I Write Sins Not Tragedies”, the song that everyone knows, wherever we go, any country in the world. The music started, I began plucking the strings on my bass. Brendon always gets super-hyped about this song. I see the excitement take over his eyes, like a kid in a candy store. This was when he went crazy, screaming and jumping around, all over the stage. Before the lyrics started, Brendon danced over to me, half-running. Microphone in hand, he held it between both of our faces, just centimetres apart. I could feel his breath on me, getting heavier. Time seemed to be so slow, between when the music starts and before he starts singing. Suddenly, we’re singing. Brendon and I, singing the first line together. Time speeds away from me before I can hold onto it. Brendon runs away from me, dancing his way across the stage, singing the final song of the night with his amazing voice. I notice my feelings for Brendon getting even stronger, as the lyrics seem to pour out of him, like a fluent second language. I keep my eyes fixed on him, but my mind on what I’m playing. Quickly, the song comes to an end. Brendon thanks the crowd and does the usually backflip on the last chorus of the song. We all watch him, in awe. That’s it. The end of the tour. We all take a bow and lead off-stage. The applause is deafening, but fills me with an unimaginable sense of pride in myself and the rest of the band. We’ve come so far in ten years, from high school to playing on some of the most prestigious stages in the best countries of the world. The past ten years flash before my eyes as we walk off stage. An indescribable emotion comes over me, I’m so proud.
I’m following Brendon off stage, back to the tour bus. Kenny and Dan disappear somewhere on the way, probably the dressing rooms to pick up their stuff from before the show. Brendon turns round as we get out of the stage corridor and says “Hey Dallon, well done on that last song, man!” I feel a rush in my stomach as he speaks to me. “Thanks Brendon, you too!” I reply. We walk side by side, nearing the tour bus. It’s really dark outside and none of the crew seems to be near the bus. “Where is everyone?” Brendon and I say, almost in unison. We both shrug and get in the bus. It’s silent, unusual after a show. Kenny and Dan are usually messing about on the sofa, singing or just being idiots, filled with after-show adrenaline! We both go over to our separate bunks and start taking our jackets and stuff off, the usual routine. “I think I’m going to have a shower.” I say to Brendon. “Okay man, see you in a bit.” He replies. I pick up my towel, as I’m stood there in just my underwear in front of Brendon. I walk into the bathroom-style room and hop in the shower. I run the water, as cold as I can bear it. I scrub my body clean from all the sweat of the show.
I suddenly hear the door opening. “Brendon, I’m in the shower, get out dude!” I shout. “Dallon, get out, I need to talk to you man.” Brendon replies. I pop my head round the shower curtain and demands that Brendon gives me my towel before I get out. He does as he’s told and I wrap it around my waist, drying myself as I wrap it around me. Brendon looks at me with a different glint in his eye to usual. “What do you want?!” I say, almost snarling. “I want to talk to you Dal; I’ve been thinking about it for ages, I can’t wait any longer.” He replies innocently, seeming to be almost embarrassed by it. “Okay, fair enough, sorry to snap. Can we get out of here though?” I say to Brendon. “Yeah, sure. Get dressed, then we can talk.” He replies. I start walking over to my bunk, grabbing some underwear to put on. I find some and drag them on, dropping my towel to the floor. “I better make this quick, while there’s nobody else in here.” Brendon says to me, looking strangely worried and slightly pale. “Are you alright, Bren? You don’t look too good.” I say to him, hopefully calming his nerves. “Yeah, sit down.” He says to me. I do as he says and throw myself down on the couch, suddenly tired. Brendon sits next to me, looking me straight in the eyes. “Dallon, I think I’m in love with you.” He blurts out, bluntly. I sit silent, in shock. “But…” I stammer. “I know, I’ve got Sarah, but that’s at home Dallon. I want you, it’s always been you.” He says, filled with courage. “Brendon, are you sure? I mean, I knew you were bisexual, but this is pretty sudden, man.” I ask. “I’m sure Dallon; I’ve been feeling like this for three years. I’m in love with you.” Brendon replies quickly. He stands up and starts to walk away, before I stand up and grab his wrist. “Brendon, I love you too.” I say. “Dallon, you can’t say that. What about Breezy and the kids? I don’t expect you to feel the same way about me.” He says quietly, almost whispering. “I do Brendon, I only married Breezy to try and get you out of my mind, but you never left it. I love the kids, you know I do, but I love you Brendon.” I say to him, my eyes filling with tears, finally letting out the truth. A big grin sweeps across Brendon’s face, the smile a kid gets when you tell them that they can have dessert.
