Page 57 of One Wrong Step
“He’s never going to release my trust fund, is he?”
“You’d know the answer better than I would, but it doesn’t sound like it.”
He slams down the rest of his drink. And then he smiles. “You know what? That’s kind of freeing. So, hell yeah, I’m going to sing karaoke, and you are going to sing with me.”
I drop my head to the table and mumble, “What have I done?”
Vivian just laughs.
After a few more drinks for liquid courage, Vivian chooses “Shallow” from A Star is Born for us to sing. I have Bradley Cooper’s part, and he’s singing Lady Gaga’s part, and there is no way in hell we’re going to pull this off. But at this point, I’d do anything Vivian wanted, which should worry me a bit.
I’m nervous as hell, but Vivian distracts me by picking apart the other performances. Our heads are together, giggling like a bunch of middle schoolers.
“Ooh,” Vivan whispers, like anyone could hear us over the music, “he’s hot.”
A beefy cowboy is on stage singing a country song. “No. He’s not,” I say, but Vivian gives me a look that calls me on my bullshit, and I sigh. “Okay, fine. He’s hot.”
Which prompts Vivian to lean in closer, his hand on my shoulder, his breath teasing my ear. “You’re hotter.”
My breath catches. I turn and see the desire in his eyes. We’re close. So close I can count the freckles across his nose. I could easily kiss him again, and suddenly, nothing seems more important than that.
“Are you all having a good time? Let’s welcome our next performers, Jonah Baker and Vivian Bu-ches-ne?”
Crap. My nerves are back. And I’m not happy with the emcee. “She butchered your name.”
He pats my arm as if to calm me down. “S’okay. No one ever gets it right.”
When we get to the stage, the announcer checks to see if we’re ready. I hold up my finger. “Hey, everyone,” I say into the mic. “I’m Jonah. But that’s not important. What’s important is that this is Vivian. Vivian Beauchesne.”
Vivian stares at me. Did he think I couldn’t pronounce his last name? I wink at him. His eyes shine with something warm and fond. It’s dark, so I might be mistaken.
And then the song starts and I have to focus since my part is first. I ignore everyone and sing straight to Vivian.
When Vivian starts to sing, I stare at him. He’s not just good, which I expected, he’s fucking amazing. How did I not know Vivian could sing like this? And it’s not just singing, he’s performing. Like he was born to it. Vivian raises his eyebrows, and I realize I’m supposed to be singing too. I have a deeper voice. I like to live in that lower range. Vivian has an amazing range. Our voices sound good together. That might be the alcohol. All those other singers thought they were good too.
Our last chorus crescendos into something amazing, and then we’re done. The crowd cheers, but I barely hear them. Vivian is all I can see and hear.
“You’re amazing,” I say, not realizing the microphone is still.
He laughs, and there’s a little blush on his face that I find adorable.
“All right, you two love birds,” the emcee says, “give someone else a chance.” She waves us off the stage.
Lovebirds? But I don’t correct her. What am I going to say? Sorry, you’re wrong. We’re brothers? That would be weird.
But it doesn’t feel weird to want Vivian as much as I do. We’re stepbrothers in name only. We’ve never considered each other that way. At least I’ve never considered him a brother. It never quite fit.
Vivian’s face is radiant. Full of joy at doing something he clearly loves. All in all, it’s a good night. That is, until the fight breaks out.
