Chapter Six
It was actually Nicky who grabbed Neil first, as Matt looked on with a vaguely heartbroken expression. Dan amusedly patted his shoulder next to him.
Nicky, despite the substantial height difference he had on Neil, got right up in his face, smile flashing. “So, Neil! I was hoping to get your help with a song I was working on.”
Neil nodded. This was what he was good at. “Sure. Want to show me what you’ve got?”
Nicky grinned wickedly. “Do I ever.”
Neil just blinked.
Nicky sighed. “Fine, yes. Let’s go into one of the practice rooms and I’ll show you what I’ve put together so far.”
Neil knew enough about Nicky’s work in the past to know that he probably wouldn’t have to worry much about the beat or arrangement for this song, so he grabbed the notebook he’d brought with him so he could work on lyrics and his phone to record melody ideas.
Turns out, Nicky was much less far along than Neil had imagined. So, they crashed in one of the rehearsal rooms, sprawled across the plushy orange couches. Nicky sighed heavily and pulled out his notes, laptop, and assorted sheet music before turning back to Neil.
He smiled, settling into his chair. “So.”
Neil looked back passively. “So.”
They sat there for a moment.
“Do you have a concept?” Neil prompted finally.
“Oh, yeah! Sorry about that, I’m not super used to working with people on this part.” He looked sheepish.
Neil waved him off. “That’s fine. If you’d prefer we can split the work, you can let me take care of, say, the lyrics and basic chorus and verse structure, and you can deal with more of the production and recording elements.”
Nicky nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
They sat in silence for a few moments.
Neil raised an eyebrow. “So, concept.”
Nicky tilted his head slightly. “Well, I’ve been doing a lot of dance hits recently that have been doing pretty well.”
“But that’s not what you want me to make, is it?”
Nicky shook his head, seeming to relax, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Not quite. I mean, anything that I record and mix usually ends up sounding, you know, pop-y, but I don’t really want this one to be, like, a club banger or anything.”
Neil nodded intently. “So maybe, deeper lyrics with a pop sound, more Hayley Williams?”
Nicky’s grin widened impossibly. “Man, After Laughter is like my favorite album.”
Neil looked skeptical. “Not your own stuff?”
He laughed. “God no, I can’t stand listening to my own music unless it's been remixed out of its mind past the point of recognition.”
Neil sighed. “Yeah, I get that.”
Nicky nodded. “Yeah. Matt told me that it's pretty sad, that I hate the sound of my own voice.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know, I just never really felt like I was talented, you know? I had a lot of people tell me I wasn’t. And then when someone told me I was...I didn’t know how to believe them.” He smiled sadly. “But I guess they’re paying more for something, right?”
Neil tilted his head, perplexed. “Of course they are.”
Nicky flashed him a softer, more genuine smile. “Okay. Let’s make some magic, music man.”
Neil spent about a week working with Nicky on and off. He saw the rest of the Foxes, sure, but he mostly just interacted with Nicky. They’d talk, Neil would write some things, they’d discuss it, then they’d go home for the night. At that point, inspiration would randomly strike Neil and he’d rush back in the next morning having totally reconfigured things. But despite this chaotic schedule, it didn’t take them too long to reach a product they were both happy with.
Neil knew that song writing was a personal process, but he was much more used to either vague descriptions of personal issues from employers or more of the Allison vibe, wherein she had a lot going on, but wasn’t willing to share it without a lot of time and trust. Nicky, on the other hand, was firmly the opposite. While Allison wore her walls around her like armor, Nicky wore his trauma on his sleeve, happy to share it with people, not for attention or sympathy but as sort of an example. At least that was how he explained it to Neil.
He told Neil all about his parents and his strict Christian upbringing, about how coming out to himself had been the hardest thing he ever had to do, nevermind telling his parents. He explained how he was sent off to conversion therapy, but didn’t go too into detail about his time there. But Neil recognized the faraway look in his eyes. He saw it when he looked in the mirror too long.
Now he was living out and proud in LA with his husband of two years, Eric, and told Neil he’d never been happier. Neil believed him, looking on with wonder at the light in Nicky’s eyes when he talked about Eric. He wondered if he had that look when he talked about his friends. When Neil asked him how he was so willing to share what he’d been through with the world, Nicky had paused, searching for the words to explain what seemed so second nature to him.
He’d finally told Neil, “When it comes down to it, if there’s someone out there who can take something from what I went through, who am I to keep it from them? Like, I love being a symbol of hope and pride and all that, but I think it’s more important to me to show queer kids that even if things are at the worst they can get better, you know? That I didn’t always live like this, that I wasn’t always this happy. And I’ve gotten more than enough fan mail that sent me into tears to convince me that there are some people out there who are benefiting from hearing my story. So I’m not going to make it, like, the only thing about me I ever share, but I’m also not going to keep it from people.”
Neil nodded, but didn’t really get it. He couldn’t imagine anyone taking comfort from his story. Look folks, you can go from the son of a mobster to an anxious young adult constantly hiding in paralyzed fear from himself and his past who sometimes makes some music!
But in the end, Nicky was good at explaining how he felt and how he wanted to phrase or express certain things in the music, which Neil really appreciated. When he mentioned it to Nicky, he’d laughed and told him that it was the years of therapy, which Neil wasn’t really sure if he was supposed to laugh at.
By the end of the week, they had a song Neil could honestly say he was pretty proud of. And the first time Nicky listened to it all the way through he’d cried, which Neil thought was probably a good sign.
To celebrate what Nicky called his most productive week in months, he invited Neil out on Friday night. Since his group chat with Laila, Jeremy, and Cat had been fairly quiet for the past few days, he agreed, and told Nicky he’d come out with them after work.
Neil had presumed that the rest of the Foxes would be in attendance, but when he walked into the common area on Friday evening he saw that it was just Kevin, Nicky, Andrew, and Aaron that were left waiting for him.
Nicky was holding a bag hanging haphazardly off his hand, elbow propped up on his hip, clearly waiting for him.
“Hey,” Neil said, feeling increasingly uneasily.
“Hey! We have some clothes for you.”
Neil frowned, confused on so many levels. “We?” He stopped. “And I have clothes.”
Nicky rolled his eyes playfully. “Andrew dresses like he’s a bouncer most days but he knows regular clubwear pretty well. And Neil? I love you and all, and for the most part you dress pretty well, but I asked Allison if you had anything for Eden’s and she almost burst a blood vessel laughing.”
Neil just felt more confused. Not about Allison’s reaction, that felt pretty true to character. It was more that the idea that Andrew of all people, who he’d never even introduced himself to, would be picking an outfit for him was jarring. It was an odd juxtaposition, like seeing a wild badger wearing a tutu.
He blinked. “Okay, I guess. I’m not really a club person though.”
Nicky pouted. “You promised! Besides, it’ll be fun. We’ll get super drunk and probably end up with pictures of us passed out in the street in the tabloids. You know, a regular Friday night.”
Neil frowned deeper. “Why on Earth would I want that.”
Nicky just pushed the bags into his hands and Neil trudged dutifully off to the bathroom to get changed. He glanced in Andrew’s direction on his way by, but seeing him staring back he quickly turned away. It was going to be a weird night.