After a dinner that had lasted a little longer than anyone was fully comfortable with, Arlo and Ronnie returned to the latter's apartment. Ronnie's werewolf ears and tail, which had been notably absent during the concert and post-show dinner, re-emerged, Ronnie smiling a bit after they did.

"Ah, finally. You know how it feels when you're holding in a sneeze, or when you're trying to do customer service voice on the phone? That's how it feels when I have to hold the tail and shit in when I'm doing a show or something. It's not that I can't do it, it's just kinda uncomfortable... wait, that's not bad, is it? Doesn't mean I'm losing my humanity or something?"

"I wouldn't say that. Being a werewolf is part of you just like anything else, and I get the impression that the tail provides a great source of sensory feedback for you. Who wouldn't want to have a built in fidget?"

"Heh, right you are." Ronnie flashed an audacious smile in Arlo's direction, prompting a rush of heat to various parts of his body. The arousal was dampened, but not eliminated, when Ronnie stretched up one arm to sniff his armpit. "God, how am I sweaty again? I literally wasn't outside for any longer than it took to get to and from the car on both ends. That's Vegas for you. Dunno how you're feeling, but I'm gonna shower again before bed, because if I don't, I get hella itchy."

Ronnie showered, again, and after they'd finished what evening ablutions they did, they were left contemplating the sleeping situation.

"So, uh... I know Spark would only let me come over if you had a couch."

"Like I said when you arrived: I had to sleep on that couch before I got my bed installed, and I still don't think my back's recovered. I am not letting any friend of mine sleep on it. What Spark doesn't know can't hurt me."

"Do you mean --"

"No. He's not gonna get hurt by knowing we shared a bed. However, I probably would, on part of either him or that freaky cat thing. Just wear pants. I'll do the same."

"Uh, okay."

"You did bring some acceptable sleep pants, right? Although, honestly, half the time, I don't even bother changing or showering and just sleep in my jeans. It doesn't chafe as much as you'd think."

"Yeah, I think so. I bring them along with my favorite hoodie whenever I'm going to be sleeping on a mattress or bedding that isn't mine or Spark's."

Both men climbed into bed, both carefully wearing pants even if shirtless (although Arlo was still sleeping in a hoodie, since even post-top surgery, it just felt more comfortable, especially if he was lying on his side or stomach), and pretended to go to sleep, very carefully staying on either side of the bed and with their backs turned to each other.

This state of affairs, the awkward silence punctuated by the soft thump of Ronnie's tail wagging, lasted about 45 minutes before Arlo finally rolled over to talk to his bedmate, having been very aware that neither of them were remotely asleep.

"Okay, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've spent the past 45 minutes tossing and turning, sighing, and with your tail thumping against the bed the whole time. You're clearly agitated about something, so either we need to address it or someone's sleeping on the floor."

"This is my apartment."

"I am a guest."

"Ugh. Whatever. It's just... I'm still thinking about Max. I don't feel bad about moving away, and doing what I did with the band -- I think -- KNOW I needed to, looking at the other me, but... he just looked so sad. I've never seen him like that before. I was really hoping that he'd stay after the show so we could talk, but... I just hate how things ended with him. I did this to save myself, but I didn't expect it to hurt him like this. What if... what if this is the start of a downward spiral for him, and he ends up basically doing the same stuff as the other me did? Does that really make me a good person at all, if in saving myself I'm just destroying him --"

As Ronnie's worry got progressively faster, louder, and possessed of wider fluctuations in pitch, Arlo slid over next to him and placed both hands on his shoulders. Once that didn't work, he pressed in for a hug.

"-- what are you doing?"

"Ronnie, you can't control what other people do. It's not worth it to destroy yourself just because you think somebody else would take it badly if you left. Especially since, if they really care about you, they don't want you to do that either! Breakups are hard for anyone --"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"I know. Friends and bandmates can have breakups too. Point is, ending a relationship is hard for anybody, and there's always going to be some anger and sadness there at first, but I promise that if Max really loves you, he'll realize why you had to retool Escape the Fate, for your own good. And for what it's worth, he got kicked out of EtF in 2012 in my timeline, and while he was mad about it for a while, he got over it. So you don't need to worry about him turning into the other you, because he's way more mature."

"Okay, good, because I don't want to see him with a stupid face tattoo. The other me doesn't have the chin for it, so he definitely doesn't. And, uh, thanks. I know all of that -- that if he really does care about me, he wouldn't want to see me destroy myself just in the name of protecting him, or the band, but, well, I've kind of thought of everything I did, well, before I met you, as being for him... he's why EtF even exists, and if it hadn't been for whatever divine intervention, protecting him would have been..."

Arlo squeezed tighter, feeling Ronnie's frantic vibrations against his skin. He accentuated the physical contact with some soothing noises, not totally unlike the ones he used on Pokemon. Ronnie turned over to the side to look him in the eyes, his own looking like he was about to cry.

"Would... would it be weird if you just, like, held on, for a bit, until I can get to sleep? Not, you know, in a... I'm not sleeping with you sleeping with you, but, it's nice having the pressure and stuff and being able to turn over and see your face, and I don't think I'm going to be able to get to bed without it... honestly, you've kinda the only thing that made me stop thinking about Max the entire time after he showed up at the concert."

"Sure thing, buddy."

With some repositioning so both of them got a reasonable share of the blankets, both men eventually fell asleep, curled up nested with each other, themselves in a stack of blankets. The last conscious thought Arlo remembered having that night was the feeling of Ronnie's tail and the fur on the center of his shirtless chest pushed up against Arlo's own, and him contemplating "holy shit, this is real".


"What the hell? Who's blowing up my phone?"

Ronnie groggily rolled over to the nightstand, gently nudging Arlo off of him, and flipped open his phone. The device had awoken him with a rapid string of text tones. Apparently, every single person he knew was informing him to check MySpace. Including a couple of people over email, which was weird, because who the hell knew his email but not his phone number? With a sigh, Ronnie clambered out of bed and grabbed his laptop from the other side of the room, where it had been sitting on the same shelf as the Xbox. Then he got back in bed, laptop in hand, because he'd been woken up the day after a concert before noon and that wasn't allowed. Opening it up and checking his MySpace front page, he understood what everyone had decided to text him about.

"Oh, shit."

He followed pretty much every Escape the Fate fan he could think of, and unsurprisingly, they were sharing plenty of concert pictures. Various angles on them performing, the kiss, thoughts about the new songs, etcetera. The kiss was the most notable part, with plenty of fawning over how cute he and Arlo were, and reminiscing about the couple of times he'd done it in earlier shows with Max. Whatever. That was all fine. That was standard genre fare; if My Chemical Romance could get away with it with no one speculating on their orientations who mattered, then he could too.

Apparently, however, what he couldn't get away was being sighted on what looked an awful lot like a double date with Arlo, his guitarist, and...

"Holy shit, Mike's gay! And Steve is also gay! And his boyfriend! And they invited us on a double date because they think we're gay! Arlo, wake up!"

Ronnie reached over to shake Arlo awake, but he really didn't need to, because his yelled revelations already had.

"Huh?"

"Dude, look at this."

Ronnie handed over his laptop, which was presently open to an article speculating on Ronnie Radke's new boyfriend, and that did this mean he was openly gay? Also, the same site described Mike as openly gay, and when did that happen? Ronnie couldn't recall Mike ever having talked about it to him. Ronnie continued describing the events that they'd both been there for, and were being speculated about on the screen, while Arlo read.

"That was a date. Steve is Mike's boyfriend, and they're both gay, and they invited us on a double date, and someone got a picture of that date and posted it and all the scene magazines and blogs picked it up and now everybody thinks we're gay! Shit!"

Arlo handed Ronnie's laptop back to him, and looked at him with a blank expression, fully ignoring Ronnie continuing to freak out.

"So?"

"Uh, hello? I'm not gay?"

"Yes, but why does people assuming you are bother you? If they're not dating you, it's really none of their business, so what's the harm in letting your fans have their fun?"

"But... it's not..."

"Look, if you post a rebuttal saying that you're not gay, not only will no one believe you, you're also coming off as saying that being gay is inherently bad, and people saying you are is slander. And that's going to alienate people, especially any gay or questioning fans you have. And as you know from the other you, that isn't going to stop people who want to read you as such from thinking you are."

"But... I started doing this, you know, to get girls..."

"Have you ever 'gotten' a girl from a concert?"

"No."

"Do you even want to? Because from what I've gathered from both of you, you find fans flirting with you to be uncomfortable and weird."

"That's because it is weird. They don't know me. Why do they think they can tell me all the gross things they want to do to me just because they like my songs? And what am I supposed to do if they throw clothes at me? They're not labeled, so I can't return them, or theoretically find the girl they came from if I wanted to sleep with her, and they're not even my size! Uh, not that I wear women's clothing. Well, I do wear girls' jeans, but that's because I like the cut! I don't, like, wear them because they're supposed to be for girls. If there were men's jeans with that cut, I'd buy those instead, but there aren't. I'm not a transvestite -- wait, shit, that term's offensive, isn't it -- but, like, I haven't tried on a bra or anything, except that one time when Whitney wasn't home and I got curious... I'm going to stop talking now."

"Ronald, they're pants. No one cares. And really, as long as you're not trying to pass as a girl, it really is just clothes. And you're not, right?"

"No. People keep calling me 'ma'am' from behind because of my hair and how I like necklaces, and it's actually kind of annoying."

"But point is, if you're not trying to seduce women, and find it off-putting when fans flirt with you, then you're not losing anything from them thinking you're gay. The fans get to have some fun, you get fewer girls sexually harassing you, and any gay or questioning fans you have know that you're safe to be themselves around. Plus, since as you just figured out, although I don't understand how you hadn't before; they were pretty obvious, Mike's gay, and you definitely don't want to alienate him by freaking out about people thinking you are. Even if you're not, the best thing to do is to not respond and let it die down, and I suspect by the time you get a new girlfriend, everyone will have forgotten about it. But you might as well take advantage of the boost to your PR while it's happening -- even if your name's getting published with 'new boyfriend' after it, at least people know your name."

"I lived with Max for, like, four years, and talked about him about as much as Mike talks about Steve, and we weren't gay. I even made out with him and we slept together sometimes, but, like, just because it was cheaper to get a hotel room with one bed."

"Whatever you say, buddy."

"Okay, so maybe I'll try it your way. You said I just shouldn't respond, and let the Internet hype train do what it does, and maybe I'll get some new fans out of it and get a public rep as being inclusive and stuff?"

"That's about it. As long as you don't claim to be anything you're not for inclusivity points or say that people thinking you're gay lets you off the hook for past bad behavior, you're not doing anything wrong, because you can't control other people's perceptions."

Ronnie's phone started ringing, and looking for an excuse to get out of the awkward conversation, he practically leapt for it to answer.

"Uh, hello? Ronnie Radke speaking. Oh, you want to interview me with your pop culture guy? Live? As soon as possible, because you're trying to compete with the Internet news cycle? And you want me to bring that guy I was seen with? Uh, yeah, I can do that. He's staying with me for the weekend. Okay, yeah, see you soon."

Ronnie hung up the phone and directed his attention back towards Arlo.

"We're going to the Channel 8 news studio, like, now. They want to interview me and my 'new boyfriend', and I guess Sylvester gave them my phone number while I was asleep. It shouldn't take too long; they said that they're only looking for, like, a 5 to 10 minute snippet they can both air on TV and post on their site. And yes, I see your point about letting everyone think I'm gay being good for my PR, and I know you're thinking 'I told you so', so you don't need to say it. And stop smirking."

Arlo got out of bed, got dressed in some of the merch he'd been given the previous day, and cheerfully skipped (not literally) towards the door behind Ronnie as they headed down to his car. Ronnie closed and locked the apartment door behind them, making sure Arlo's back was to him so his guest couldn't see him smiling. Damn it, he was actually cute. Including that stupid smirk that he was totally still wearing despite having been told not to.


The drive to the studio passed in awkward silence, save Ronnie periodically rolling down the window to yell epithets at passing drivers. Even his usual soundtrack was absent, and he didn't seem to have anything to say to fill the space. Eventually, after several stoplights with nothing except epithets coming out of Ronnie's mouth, Arlo actually opted to bring it up.

"Are you okay? You've been awfully quiet, and I get the impression you're more of the kind of guy who talks to fill the space."

"I am. It's just, well, my throat hurts a bit from yesterday. Trying to save my voice for the interview."

Since the stoplight they were at had turned green, Ronnie turned back away from Arlo and to facing straight forward and accelerated, returning to saying nothing. Arlo waited for the next stoplight, since knowing Ronnie, and knowing how alike they were, if he tried to talk to him while the car was moving, the odds of Ronnie missing a road hazard were much higher.

"Is that the real reason? You seemed okay with talking at length this morning."

"Well, it isn't not one of the reasons. I'm just... I guess I feel kind of cheated? The first time I get interviewed live by a real outlet about the band, save that radio contest, I guess, and it's not even really about the band. It's just about how people think I'm gay, and why is that the part that matters? Nobody cared who I was dating when it was girls."

"Well, it's better than in my timeline, where your first meaningful TV appearance is you hiding from the people trying to take you to prison for ditching your meetings for 2 years."

"I'm aware."

This didn't come out with the slightest hint of humor, rather coming out half-snarled, with every syllable sharp, and followed by Ronnie turning back to facing straight forward and accelerating again. The light was not actually green that time, but thankfully, no one was coming at the crossroads.

"You know, uh, you ran that --"

"Shut up, will you? You're the one who got me into this mess. If you weren't, you know, like that, then everyone would just think we were friends. As it stands, I'm probably gonna have to explain to my dad why I'm gay now and hope he doesn't refer me for a fucking exorcism!"

It was Arlo's turn to make remarks with absolutely no humor behind them.

"What do you mean by 'like that'?"

"You know, you're gay. And you used to be a girl. So, like, not that you're not my friend or that I don't enjoy spending time with you and don't think you're cute and want to pick you up and carry you around like a briefcase -- ahem -- point is, I might not care about you being gay, but the fans have decided that I'm gay by association, so it's your fault for dragging me into your... you know, gay shit."

"Ronnie, none of your fans know either of those things. Because until now, they'd never seen me in person and they've still never talked to me. And also, I wouldn't out myself to random people anyway, especially not when time traveling."

"Oh. Right. You don't really look any different from most of them, or any, like, gayer, save being short, so --"

"What do you think gay looks like?"

"...whatever. But I guess you're right. My fans wouldn't have any reason to assume that you weren't just a normal guy."

"Are you saying that I'm not?"

"Fuck, I keep -- shit, I'm sorry. I'm not... I didn't grow up knowing that people like you really existed, as opposed to, like, drag queens and fetish weirdos like that -- not that fetishes are weird! Different strokes for different folks and all that... I just... I'm not comfortable with this. I don't like talking about dating or sex or relationships or anything, and I don't want that to be the first thing people think about when they hear about me. I'm worried that if I go to this stupid interview, that the whole gay thing's going to overshadow my work."

"We don't have to go if you're really uncomfortable with it, you know."

"No, you're right. Some of the fans are gonna think that I'm gay anyway no matter what I do, and you're right that most people won't care, so it'll be good for my PR and it's important to send the message in case any of my fans are gay that I'm safe and stuff. I just really hope my dad doesn't watch it... the thing I don't get is, why do people think I'm gay anyway? Like, sure, there was the accidental date, but, like, we're friends. We do stuff that friends do. It's the 21st century. People can have dinner together as men, and couples invite their friends to dinner with them all the time! I don't think we've really done anything gay."

"People don't usually make out with their friends, Ronald."

The next several stoplights (how far away was this place anyway?) passed in silence. It took until we were pulling into the studio parking lot for Ronnie to come up with a response.

"...okay, you may have a point there. But, like, I did that with Max all the time, and I don't really think I talk about you any more than I talked about him -- hell, Friends And Alibis is all about him -- and no one thought we were gay."

"Are you sure they didn't? Because if you check any major fanfic website..."

"Eew. People... write that? About me? And Max?"

"And every other person you've ever met, at least of the male variety."

"Gross. I've never understood fanfic. Like, yeah, I've thought about what it'd be like if I were a Ninja Turtle or on the team with Sailor Moon or something, who hasn't, but that was when I was a little kid and I wouldn't write about it."

"Didn't Sailor Moon not air on cable here until you were 14?"

"...okay, change of subject."

"All right. So, Friends And Alibis is confirmed to be about Max? As in, 'I hate to be the one to bear the bad news / yes, it is true / I finally fell in love' Friends And Alibis?"

"...you've got a pretty good singing voice. Maybe I should talk my manager into letting you feature on a song sometime."

Heat rushed to Arlo's face, to the point that he almost forgot what he was trying to say.

"Hehe, uh, really? Because I haven't --"

"I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it, dude. I never do. Say things I don't mean, that is. One of my favorite things about me. But let me guess, you're gonna say that people don't say they're in love with their friends, either?"

"Pretty much."

"I was speaking metaphorically."

"All right, whatever you say. But, your metaphor sounds pretty damned gay."

"That's, like, your opinion. Anyway, I think we've kept these hoes waiting long enough. Let's give them what they want."

"Uh, what do you think they want? Isn't it supposed to be a free association interview?"

"It's an expression, dude. But whatever! No sense in waiting around. Let's walk in together."

"...you're holding my hand."

"I'm nervous. That's all."

The duo, who everyone would assume were a couple whether they were or not (but Arlo hadn't missed that little aside about the briefcase), walked into the studio... only to be stopped at the front desk and have to be taken up by a separate representative to the room where the interview was taking place, rather than triumphantly walking in like they'd planned on. In hindsight, Ronnie probably should have anticipated that.

Ronnie and Arlo emerged into a talk show-like room outfitted with semicircular couches on either side of a round, light wood finish table. Save being fitted with neck-mounted microphones, they weren't given any notable hair or makeup, Ronnie supposed to maintain the "unfiltered, authentic" vibe the studio was supposed to have. The back wall of the studio was lined with gold records and posters from various iconic bands' tours, in order to sell the image of scene authenticity.

They were met shortly after being outfitted with the microphones by a blonde woman who Ronnie perceived as loosely attractive, but in a generic way, wearing a decently professional button-up shirt and suit jacket that was buttoned just slightly too low, displaying enough cleavage to keep audiences engaged. Before the cameras started rolling, she shook both Ronnie and Arlo's hands and introduced herself with an insincere smile.

"Hello, Mr. Radke -- is Ronnie okay? And, uh, other guy. Can I get your name?"

"Uh, it's Arlo, ma'am."

"And please just call me Ronnie. Mr. Radke is my dad."

"All right, Ronnie it is, then. I'm Jaylah from our cultural reporting division. It's great to meet with you today, especially on such short notice, since I'm sure you have a busy schedule. I'm a bit of an Escape the Fate fan myself."

"Name one of my songs."

"Oh, you did that 'Cute Without The E' one, right?"

"...that would be Taking Back Sunday. Not as bad as I was expecting, though; I was expecting you to name something by MCR."

"Well, I'm glad to hear I exceeded your expectations. Also, loving the purple hair; is this part of your new direction for the band with the new lineup and all?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, let's go with that, and wait, are we recording? I didn't see the clapper thing do the...clapping."

"Yes. We didn't tell you when the recording started so it'd be more authentic."

"I -- fine. Whatever. Let's just cut to what you called me about, okay? Because I know it's not the music."

"Oh, come on, Ronnie, where's the harm in letting the audience get to know you better?"

Arlo snickered a little bit, prompting a glance from Jaylah, who seemed to have forgotten he existed.

"Okay, fine. Hi. I'm Ronnie Radke from Escape the Fate. If you're watching this, you probably already know who I am, but if you don't, I'm the lead singer of a rock band from here in Las Vegas, that recently released our first album and has retooled our image including a new lineup. Except me. I was there before. Because I founded the band, so barring extraordinary circumstances like me ending up in prison or becoming a crazy racist who's losing his hair or something, it wouldn't be Escape the Fate without me. We opened for MCR after winning a radio contest last year. There. Can we get to the gay thing now? I had a show last night and I want to go home and sleep."

"Uh, all right, thank you. That was very specific."

"Whatever."

"So, your fans on MySpace are all very interested in this mystery man you were seen comforting and kissing after a confrontation from ex-bassist and former best friend Max Green at last night's show, and Xx_PhAnToMwOlF_xX got a photograph of you two on a double date with openly gay Escape the Fate guitarist Mike Rubio after the show! Arlo, do you mind introducing yourself?"

"Wait, sorry to interrupt, but openly gay according to whom? I didn't know that! Like, I didn't know it was a date and thought Steve was just his roommate!"

"He literally has that listed as his orientation on MySpace. Isn't that where you got him?"

"No, I got him from a gig website, and he sent me all his demos as MP3s. I didn't even know he had a MySpace until now -- wait, why the fuck has he not friended me?"

"You'll need to take that up with him. Anyway, Arlo, if you're comfortable, care to share how you know Ronnie?"

Arlo fidgeted with the microphone on his neck, trying to get it to itch less to no avail.

"Oh, uh... well, I found him in a really bad, uh, situation a couple months ago, and took him in for a while so he could get back on his feet. And while he was sleeping on my couch, we ended up talking and had a lot in common, so we've been friends ever since."

"So, did you know each other before? Sleeping on your couch makes it sound like you were pretty close."

"Not...personally. I'd followed him online, and been a fan of his work, for a while, so when I saw him all down and out laid out on the ground -- metaphorically, of course -- I would have helped anyone in that situation, of course, but I recognized him and decided to reach out in any way I could, since he at that time didn't really have anywhere else to go."

"Well, Arlo, you seem like a very generous and caring guy. I understand why Ronnie likes you so much. Ronnie, care to add anything to that?"

"Uh, no. I... don't like talking about how we met, it's a pretty sensitive time for me."

"Oh, I understand. So, what made you realize that you liked each other as more than friends?"

"Well, we... you know, we don't really like to label our relationship like that. There's a real lack of honest expression of affection among men, you know, and that's just not healthy. Guys should be able to ask for support from their friends, or hug it out, or hell, even kiss or cuddle if they want to, without everybody jumping to 'oh, you're gay'. There's a lot of ways, you know, to express love, and that doesn't necessarily mean it's sexual. That's part of, uh, what I do with the music. I don't consider myself 'emo', but I think the ideals of how it's okay to express vulnerability and wear jewelry and nail polish and stuff are important to spread around, especially with how super-manly hardcore and metal tend to be."

"Very passionate speech. You've clearly thought a lot about this. So, we've been looking at questions from your fans on MySpace, and there's a lot they want to know. Number 1 on the list is what does this say about Max? After all, you were pretty close to him, too. Was he an...awakening for you? And, uh, he is a guy, right?"

"As far as I know. And, like, he considers himself a guy, and isn't that all that matters?"

"Very progressive of you! So, is what we're seeing here with Arlo a sort of sequel to what you had going on with Max? Is he your rebound after all the tension with you replacing the band's lineup? Was that why you decided to break up EtF, was that Max just couldn't bear you having another man in your life?"

"You'd need to ask Max. I'm not going to put words in his mouth. I broke things off with the other guys, and this is what I told them, too, because I'd realized that the whole culture of the band was getting in the way of my getting clean and self-improvement and stuff, and if I didn't break things off then and there, somebody would have ended up in prison or dead. There wasn't anything personal against any of them, and I wish Max, Robert, and...the other two the best in whatever they do in the future."

"All right, that's interesting. So, how do you deal with the height difference when you kiss? Do you just pick him up like you did at the concert, or does he bring a step stool, or what?"

"Lots of guys have girlfriends who are shorter than them. We do the same thing they do. Why would it be any different?"

"Hey, man, I don't write these questions. This is what your fans want to hear from you!"

"Well, I'd think my fans would realize that whether you're dating a guy or a girl, it really doesn't change anything about how the relationship works. Like, people are people. When it comes to making an emotional connection with someone, what's in their pants isn't the important part. If we were a couple, which I'm not saying we are, then we'd kiss and go on dates like any other couple, gender be damned."

"All right, whatever you say. So, this is a question for both of you -- if you were a couple, which I'm not saying you are, which one of you would be the top?"

Ronnie and Arlo's jaws both dropped and eyes widened as they sat up fully erect in their respective couches. Arlo had been jolted to attention by the overtly sexual question, after having mostly been enjoying the show with an increasing grin on his face listening to Ronnie try to justify his obvious crush. Ronnie was the first to respond to the query.

"What."

As Arlo had been quite familiar with from the drive over, this syllable came out sharp and abrupt, with no humor or warmth behind it whatsoever. It was more of an accusatory exclamation than a question.

"Oh, well, it's about how when you have --"

"I know what it means! Why the fuck are you asking me?!"

"Hey, I don't write these --"

"Bullshit! You're the one who chose to stage this [rhymes with 'guarded'] interview because you think that my fans thinking I'm gay is news! And you're the one who's choosing to ignore everything I'm saying and just press on assuming I am! And now you're asking about my sex life, as if it's any of your business?"

Arlo made a sharp inhalation. He maybe needed to talk with Ronnie again about not using slurs generically, but he couldn't really blame him for the harsh word choice in the current circumstances, nor did he disagree.

"Well, you know, many people who aren't in the gay community have misconceptions about how that sort of thing works, so it'd be educational for you to --"

"I wasn't in 'the gay community' until you decided I was! And even if I were, it's not my fucking job to be their sex ed teacher! They know how to Google shit. And let me ask you this, Ms. Pop Culture News Lady -- how come you don't ask guys how the sexual logistics work when they have new girlfriends? Wouldn't that also be educational?"

"Well, we're just --"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Providing a voice for the fan opinion. Well, have you ever considered that sometimes, my fans' opinions are bullshit and bad?"

"Look, Mr. Radke, there's no --"

"Don't fucking call me Mr. Radke! So, apparently, you've decided that just because some random losers on MySpace think I'm gay, that's valid cause for me to talk about my sex life on live TV? And it never occurred to you to fucking respect that I don't label or think of myself that way? Sounds to me like you don't want an interview. You don't want to hear what I have to say. You just want the catchy headline of 'oh my God, Ronnie Radke is so totally gay' and some shit for my fans to jack off to! Well, if you want masturbation fodder, here you go!"

Ronnie ripped off his neck-mounted microphone and tossed it to the ground before equally abruptly and only slightly less violently picking up Arlo out of the couch and enclosing him in an exaggeratedly performative kiss, much like the one they'd shared at the concert. Still hoisting Arlo up under his arm, he turned towards the camera, held by a visibly uncomfortable operator.

"That's right, fuckers. You got what you wanted. Now go set that as your MySpace background and listen to House Of Wolves when it comes out this Halloween. Bye! Fuck you all!"

Ronnie saluted the camera with his middle finger before strutting off the stage, going out of his way to step on and crush the discarded neck mic on his way out. Arlo was still being carried under his arm, like a briefcase. Jaylah looked shocked, but nonetheless impressed, and mentally thinking about how great this would be for views.

"Well, that was certainly informative. Ronnie Radke, ladies and gentlemen!"

Once Ronnie had made it to the elevator back down to the front desk, Arlo tugged at one of his sleeves.

"Uh, hey! Sorry about... that. I wasn't expecting it to be... you know. Great speech, though! I'm proud of you, for standing up for yourself, and for me. And, uh, can you put me down now?"

"Oh. Sorry. Kind of forgot you were there."

Ronnie unceremoniously deposited Arlo back on the floor shortly before the elevator landed, then dropped the sheepish expression to look extremely mad as he stormed his way past the front desk and back out to the car. Arlo followed behind him, not bothering to look mad as opposed to looking ahead for obstacles Ronnie may risk storming into. Huh. Normally he was the one who had to be reminded to look where he was going.

Edit

Pub: 11 Oct 2025 01:47 UTC

Edit: 17 Nov 2025 01:18 UTC

Views: 40