Welcome Birthday Guest RJ Scott!

 

“Fucking cake is the bomb,” Scott said, and did this complicated hand wave thing that always left Corey mystified. Even more so when DK joined in and they ended up fist bumping. DK was supposed to be over that kind of thing, his wife had just had their second baby and he was a settled family man. Right?

Five years they’d been together as a band, and Wildcard had gone from SingUK winners to a global sensation that meant they were all very rich. Corey imagined those words in capitals in his head whenever he used them.

The cake was indeed, the bomb. Five layers of various sponges in the shape of a castle, which linked back to their latest music video, and which represented…

What?

Corey didn’t know what it represented. Did the band need reminding that they shot their last video in a castle? Maybe they did, and this was another complicated social thing that he just wasn’t getting.

“I think he’ll like it,” Corey said, when he realized that Scott and DK were staring at him expecting an answer. “I need to go and find Angel,” he said and left before they asked him his opinion on the shade of icing used on the third layer, or something else he’d have to make up an answer to.

He found Angel in their bedroom; the huge room with the views over the lake. Their lake. Lake Corey, as Angel had taken to calling it. They’d only been in this house for three months but this was his favorite room and the lake was his preferred place to sit and think. So much so that Angel had ordered in a bench and an awning thing that kept the Welsh rain off Corey’s head. They’d chosen this wild area of wales for a lot of reasons, the first being that Corey hated the city, the second that Angel loved Corey and did anything he could to make life easier for him.

Corey could deal with the crowds now, when Angel was at his side, and when he sung it didn’t matter how his brain worked as long as the words came and the music was there. Sometimes a person would get too close to him, but the band where there every time, forming a wall, and in the main people out there knew he didn’t want them to get too close.

“What’s wrong?” Angel asked when Corey went immediately into his large walk in closet. They had one each, and Corey’s was full of his trademark dark colors, a seat in the corner and a box of things he relied on. Like his notebook, and his guitar, and his pictures of happy times. This room was safe and quiet and the only person allowed in there with him was Angel.

“Do you think Toby will like his cake?”

Angel never frowned at his questions, or made him feel like an idiot. “Yes, he loves that whole gothic thing.” Angel brushed the nearest black leather jacket, “I think gothic looks good in this house,” he added, and smiled, “definitely on you.”

He held out his hands and Corey walked into his husband’s embrace, holding him tight and inhaling the familiar scent of hair product and shaving cream. Even though Angel’s hair wasn’t white blond now, and more of a silvery blond, it was still soft to touch.

He’d pulled all the stops out, familiar skinny jeans, but the long flowing shirt was a sapphire blue and his makeup was flawless.

All Corey wanted to do was kiss Angel until every inch of that perfect look was mussed up. He didn’t though, he stepped back and straightened his black shirt, checking it in the mirror. Angel stood behind him, his hands on Corey’s waist, looking over his shoulder at their joined reflection.

“Ready?” he asked and pressed a kiss to Corey’s neck.

“Ready.”

Toby arrived with his wife, blown away by the cake, and announced that they were expecting their first baby. Another member of the Wildcard family for Corey and Angel to spoil.

The party was loud, too many execs, too many blonds, too much air kissing, but after everyone was gone it was just the five of them, plus partners, and sleeping babies.

“Did you ever think…?” Scott began, a plate of cake on his lap. He was always the one to start the conversation, the memories of five years ago and SingUK. He was holding hands with his wife, Ebony, who he’d met through the show.

Corey reached for Angel’s hand and they snuggled close on the huge sofa, as the memories of how they became Wildcard began to form.

“Do you remember what Brianna did…”

Corey listened, and laughed and joined in with the things that he knew, and held Angel’s hand throughout.

“I love you,” Angel whispered, and pressed a soft kiss to his head.

Corey tightened his fingers a little and then tilted his face for a kiss. “And I love you.”

 

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When the only way to win is to hide who you are, how far are you prepared to go?

Reuben “Angel” Jacobs is one step away from giving it all up. Losing a place in the live finals of Sing UK almost kills him. He has no choice but to go home and work for the family business, even though it means giving up his dreams and proving his old bullies right.

Corey Dixon is a rocker at heart. Being on the spectrum means that making sense of other people’s ‘normal’ is hard in itself, let alone in the chaos of a high-powered competition. Singing is his safe space, the only way he can think through the noise in his head. Messing up his audition for the live shows means his journey is over, and it’s the worst day of his life.

The judges throw them a lifeline and create a boy band from the near-miss hopefuls. Angel, Corey, and three others are put together in a room and offered the chance to sing as a group. Agreeing to become part of the new band means Corey has to hide who he is and what Angel has come to mean to him.

Is winning worth the price Corey and Angel have to pay?