KOKO was about a ten minute walk in the opposite direction of Stan’s flat, but he said he was okay to make it in his heels, and Ben believed him. He looped his arm around Stan’s waist and pressed his face to Stan’s hair and felt really, really fucking good.
“Oh my God. Are you Stan Novikov?”
Ben almost laughed.
Of course… of fucking course, the first time he got stopped in Camden wasn’t because some stalker fan had tracked him down, but because she recognised Stan.
“Hi,” Stan said. He stopped, so Ben did too, and tried to avoid eye contact with her. She was young, he could tell that much, with her dark hair braided into two thick braids like the teenagers did. Crop tops were back in fashion, so she was flashing a belly ring above ratty jeans and expensive trainers. He guessed she wasn’t even eighteen.
“I follow you on Instagram,” she enthused. “And when you write for Teen Vogue, and….”
Ben sensed the moment she clocked who he was.
“I love you guys,” she finished as her voice broke into a quiet whine.
Stan laughed. “Thank you,” he said, and sounded like he meant it.
She turned to Ben. “Honestly… your second album got me through some really tough times. I used to lock myself in my bedroom after I got done arguing with my stepdad and just listen to it on repeat. I… I guess I always wanted to tell you thank you for that.”
Ben swallowed. “You’re welcome.” His voice didn’t sound right. “I actually really needed to hear that right now. Thank you.”
“Do you want a picture?” Stan offered.
“Would that be okay? I don’t want you to feel like you have to or anything.”
Ben decided this was a precious angel who must be protected. “It’s fine by me. Here, give me your phone, I have longer arms than Stan.”
They crowded in together, Ben and Stan on either side of her so he could take the picture. It would be out soon enough that they’d been seen together, and who knew what would happen from there, but Ben didn’t care. For once, he was happy for people to write whatever they wanted about him.
“Are you alright getting wherever you’re going on your own?” Ben asked. “I can call a cab for you if you want.”
“I’m fine, thanks. I don’t live far from here.”
“Okay. Take care.”
“Thank you again,” she said, and rushed away.
“That was sweet,” Stan murmured, slipping his hand into Ben’s as they kept walking towards KOKO.
“She seemed nice.”
“Are you offended that she recognised me first?”
He was teasing, so Ben gently bumped his shoulder against Stan’s. Not too hard, so he didn’t topple off his heels.
“It’ll take a while for my infamous ego to recover, I’m sure.”
There was a queue outside KOKO, and they just got in it. Ben wasn’t going to push his way to the front, especially when they hadn’t called ahead to let them know he was coming. Besides, the line wasn’t long, and he got to wrap his arms around Stan as they inched forward.
“ID,” the doorman demanded when they reached the front.
Stan handed his over first. He had a proper UK Driver’s License now, even though he didn’t drive. When the doorman studied Ben’s card, he did a double take.
“You got security here tonight?” he demanded in a thick Scottish accent.
“No. Is that a problem?”
“You want it?”
“Not particularly.”
He nodded. “You alright with me telling the crew you’re here? Just in case?”
“That’s fine. Thank you.”
“Have a good night.”
KOKO was a great venue, one they’d played at a couple of times. The building had been converted from an old theatre and inside, it still looked almost like it always had, just with the seats taken out. The boxes and tiers of the theatre were still in place, along with the stage and the red and gold décor. Ben liked it a lot.
They bypassed the bar in favour of going straight to the dance floor. Tone was right—Ben liked the DJ a lot. This was totally his type of thing: a great beat, bouncy melodies, and a dirty grind underneath it all that made it great to dance to.
Stan wrapped his arms around Ben’s neck and lost himself in the music, throwing his head back and swaying to the music.
They danced for almost an hour, until Stan started to make pouty faces and pointed at his feet. Ben pushed his sweaty hair back from his face and leaned in to kiss Stan properly—a solid smack on the lips. He’d never been into big public displays of affection and had always hated couples who thought it was okay to make out on a dancefloor, so they hadn’t done that. Instead Ben had just ogled how beautiful his boyfriend was and enjoyed watching him get all flushed and sweaty.
“I need a drink,” Stan yelled over the noise of the music.
Ben nodded. “Can you get upstairs? It’s always less crowded up there.”
“Yeah.”
Ben took his hand and led them through the weird, maze-like venue until they were on the very top tier with an incredible view of the stage. Because everyone was gathered downstairs, there were actually a few empty barstools up here and Stan found one near the edge of the balcony so he could keep watching the show.
“Two waters,” Ben yelled at the bartender, signalling for the bottled stuff.
Six quid. Fucking hell, London was expensive.
He set the drinks down on the ledge next to Stan and wrapped his arm around Stan’s sweaty shoulders.
“We should do this more often,” Stan said, not looking back at him.
“Yeah.”
It didn’t seem like such an impossibility any more. Nothing did.
Ben knew the others were coaxing him out of the house more and more, trying to get him to integrate back into society during daylight hours. It had been easy to hide away in LA, in their house with its iron gates, miles from anyone who wasn’t also a billionaire or Hollywood royalty.
Meeting the girl the other night had been good for him. She’d posted the pictures on Instagram, of course, with a really sweet account of having met them. To her credit, she didn’t mention anything about them being “together” as a couple, though plenty of other people made the connection and the speculation had really picked up pace.
Stan said he didn’t mind, so Ben didn’t either, and he’d emailed Melissa to give her a heads up in case she had to field any nosiness from TMZ.
Tone dragged him onto the underground for the first time during the day in forever, and though Ben had worked himself into a right panic by the time they got to the station, no one looked at them. No one noticed.
The familiar rocking of the train, plus all the people with their heads down, ignoring the world around them, was strangely reassuring. Things hadn’t changed, not really. There were still things Ben could rely on to be just as he’d always remembered.
They took the tube down to Old Street then walked around the corner to a pub that Tone liked. Ben found a table in a quieter corner while Tone ordered pints and chips, because the pub did good chips. Tone would know.
Ben could feel a shift in the air. It had happened a few times before, and he was always pretty good at sensing it coming. With the album almost done, Stan back in his life, and his dependency on drugs something he was actively working on, his perspective on life was changing. For the first time in a long time he saw a future for himself.