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“Lance! Tell us what your next album will be!”
“Do you have any response to Nyma’s claims she’s preparing to drop a diss track on you?”
“Who are you wearing tonight?”
Lance had barely stepped out of the sleek, black car responsible for chauffeuring him to this red carpet event and he was already being bombarded with questions, but he didn’t mind. Instead of replying, the popstar flashed a sultry smile and turned to give the paparazzi a shot of his cut away torso and low-backed diamond studded gown, his train swirling fetchingly to pool around him. His manager, Hunk, had said that the piece was a little bit much for another run-of-the-mill red carpet press event, but Lance lived for showmanship and so had ignored him. There was no way he was going to wear anything less than jaw-dropping extravagance for any event that had him in front of the cameras.
After a few moments the flashing of the cameras slowed down and Lance began replying to the questions the press posed to him. Just as Lance was explaining the origins of his $22,000 bespoke diamond encrusted gown, Keith Kogane, a folksy country music singer with a single album of modest sales, passed behind Lance in honest to god jeans, bolo tie and cowboy boots.
Keith passed just as Lance shifted for the cameras, causing his gown to catch on Keith’s completely functional and unfortunately sharp spurs. With a terrible ripping sound, Lance’s gown was jerked towards the ground and his low back suddenly became a low, low back, exposing a little bit of innocuous ink right in between the dimples above Lance’s ass that read Save a horse, Ride a cowboy.
Lance McClain, a pop icon who’d come out of nowhere to dominate the charts with hit after teeny bopper, bass heavy hit, had a tramp stamp from one of the most infamous country songs ever written.
Lance whirled around so that his back was to the cameras, but the damage was done. Cameras were flashing and the paparazzi were yelling questions at Keith and Lance- mainly Lance. The revelation that pop star Lance McClain had a tramp stamp would be front page tabloid news for the next two weeks, and when Lance made eye contact with Keith Kogane, he couldn’t help the shine of angry tears in his eyes.
Thankfully, his voice was steady when he said, “If you could kindly remove your spur from my gown, I’d be very appreciative.”
Keith, watching Lance very carefully like he was a startled calf being roped for the first time, bent down to carefully unhook the gossamer of Lance’s gown from his boot, not unlike loosening a lasso. When he stood back up he said, “Listen, partner, I feel mighty sorry about this, if there’s anything I can do please let me know. I’m a country gentleman and I never wanna see a lady cry.”
“It’s fine.” Lance cut him off with a tight smile. “I know you did it on accident. Don’t worry about it.”
Before Keith could say anything, Hunk came up between two of the backdrops advertising sponsors for the night’s event and quietly hissed to Lance, “I have the car waiting if you’ll come with me.”
Sparing one last glare at Keith, Lance swept off between the partitions, making sure to keep his back away from the press.
Keith didn’t know who exactly Lance McClain was- clearly an artist like himself, but Keith was blissfully unaware that he’d just caused a scandal for someone who had Beyonce on speed dial- but he felt absolutely terrible about it. The embarrassment of his dress ripping was enough to cause the poor boy to tear up- Keith was just glad the tattoo had been something nice, not anything to make a fuss over. (Not knowing who Lance was meant he didn’t realize that Lance’s tattoo was indeed something over which to make a fuss.) Through the whole night and into the after party Keith couldn’t stop wondering how he should make it up to his fellow musician for ripping his pretty dress and ruining his night.
Lance managed to make it to the car before he lost his composure, but as soon as the car pulled away from the curb he turned to Hunk and said, “You’re going to run damage control until I get dropped off at my penthouse, and I’m going to have a ten minute pre-cry in the back of this car before I have a serious power cry in my jacuzzi tub drinking wine out of a tea mug.”
Hunk didn’t bat an eyelash. “And then tomorrow I’ll get you at ten for the interview with Vogue.”
“Right,” said Lance, and then burst into tears.
Sure enough, for the next few days the tabloids were filled with an unflattering image of Lance looking down at his gown, horrified as it pulled away from him with the tattoo halfway shown, unreadable but definitely present. Thankfully there was a scandal about a model being caught hawking cocaine before the week was out, but with Lance’s otherwise spotless record the reveal of his tramp stamp still felt like an insurmountable embarrassment.
Worse than the actual reveal of the tattoo was the discussion of how and why he got it. A few of the more disreputable tabloids had stated that they’d seen that it read ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy,’ but without pictures there wasn’t actual confirmation. Not that that meant much, since most people had taken it as fact and were now wildly speculating as to why on earth Lance would have a tramp stamp, and why on earth said tramp stamp would say something so totally not in keeping with his brand.
Lance, of course, knew why, but he would take the secret to his grave. There was no way he was telling people that his teenage self had worked on his uncle’s ranch during the summers and had undergone a gay awakening watching all the sweaty, shirtless ranch hands. There was also no way he was telling the world that he’d grown up listening to country music, or that that song had been one of his favorites- his taste in music had been absolute trash until he was nineteen, at the absolute earliest. There was also absolutely no way he was telling people that the slutty office ladies in the music video for that damn song had been inspiration for his own debut music video’s aesthetic.
Lance had worked hard to hide his ranch hand roots and there was no way he was letting a minor mishap with one Keith Kogane reveal that pop icon Lance McClain had never listened to Beyonce or Britney Spears before he got to college. He was hoping that if he just didn’t respond to any questions from reporters or from his social media pages that it would all blow over. It would have to, right?
Meanwhile, Keith was still wracking his brain for a way to make it up to Lance McClain. So far all he’d come up with was getting a replacement gown- but he found out Lance’s gown had been custom made so there was no hope of that. Then he’d considered sending some kind of apology gift, but his manager, Shiro, vetoed all of his suggestions. He hadn’t liked Keith’s idea of a pair of diamond studded boots (since he couldn’t get a replacement gown), a diamond encrusted belt buckle, or a cardboard cutout of Big and Rich, the cowboys responsible for ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.’
He wanted Lance to know that he did actually feel really bad for what had happened. He’d seen the tabloids, Shiro had chewed him out for embarrassing Lance McClain, who was apparently, according to Shiro, a “big enough celebrity to end Keith’s career in the time he had between brunch and hot yoga.” Keith didn’t think Lance would do that. A nice boy like that who had a taste for the old country classics couldn’t have a mean bone in his body.
The perfect chance to apologize came a week later, when Keith was approached by the producers for an Amazon original series who wanted him to write a song for their opening that they could use for their publicity campaign. Keith enthusiastically accepted the offer, and when Shiro told him the producers wanted him to consider finding another musician with a slightly different fan base to collaborate with him to make the prospective audience as wide as possible, Keith knew just who he wanted.
“I know exactly what kinda tune maker I wanna ask.”
Shiro looked up from his laptop, “A tune maker? Is that like another word for singer? You already know who you wanna ask? Who?”
“Singer’s right, Shiro, I wanna ask the singer Lance McClain,” Keith said without batting an eyelash, “You can get in touch with his company, right?”
Shiro stared for a moment in shock and then burst out laughing. “Could I- Could I get Lance McClain to cowrite a song with you? Sure, and then I’ll ask Madonna and Nicki Minaj to feature in the new single for your album.”
“They ain’t necessary,” Keith said seriously, “I just need you to ask Lance.”
Shiro took a moment to actually look at Keith. “Is this about that red carpet mishap? Because I don’t think Lance will want anything to do with you after what happened.”
Keith looked down at his belt buckle, “That boy has a soft spot for country, I just know it. You know what his tramp stamp said just as well as I do.”
Shiro snorted and reached for his phone, “I will call his people and put forth the offer on the condition that you never refer to his tattoo as a tramp stamp ever again, and that you never make any mention of Lance having any kind of tattoo in his presence if he does agree to this. Which he won’t. So don’t get your hopes up.”
“Thanks Shiro,” Keith grinned, kicking his boots up onto Shiro’s desk, “I knew I could count on you, partner.”
When Lance heard the proposal, he didn’t even hear it on purpose. He’d meandered into the living room where Hunk was making business calls and heard him say, “No, I really don’t think Lance is interested in any sort of song writing escapade with Mr. Kogane, though I have no doubt he is a talented artist.”
Lance frowned and gestured to catch Hunk’s attention, “Who are you talking to? What song writing escapade wouldn’t I be interested in?”
“I’m on the phone with Keith Kogane’s manager. Keith would like to do a song with you, but I’m assuring them you’re not interested.”
“Keith Kogane- isn’t that the guy from the red carpet? Why does he want to do a song with me? What on earth made him think I’d say yes?”
Hunk shrugged and moved to go back to the phone call, “Apparently it’s going to be used as the theme song for an Amazon reboot of some cowboy themed soap opera from the nineties.”
“Holy shit wait what?” Lance jumped over the coffee table to stand right in front of Hunk. “Amazon is rebooting Lonely Hearts, Hard Men? Holy shit- and Keith’s going to do the theme song? Oh my god oh my god I HAVE to do that theme song Hunk tell him I’ll do it- wait. I’d have to do a country song. That wouldn’t be good.”
Hunk frowned and said into his bluetooth, “Give me five minutes, Shiro, and I’ll call you back.”
With Shiro no longer waiting on the line Hunk was free to devote his entire attention to Lance.
“Listen Lance. I will be the first person to admit that it’s cool to be approached for projects you care about. But agreeing to do this project would be a big step down for you, and if you partner with Keith Kogane the tram- the lower back issue is only going to come up again. It’s entirely in your best interests to turn them down. You literally have no reason to say yes.”
Lance pulled a face, but he knew better than to go against Hunk. Besides, there was no way he was going to let the world know his secret love of country music. “I guess you should call him back and let him know that I decline,” Lance said. “But you’re getting me tickets to that premiere!” he called, heading away to his personal gym.
When he heard that Lance had declined, Keith was disappointed, but he decided he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” had been one of his favorite songs as a teenager and was one of the songs that had inspired him to pursue country music. For Lance to have a tattoo of it right where a pair of bootcut low-rise jeans would show it off- it was a sign. A sign from the country music gods that Lance was meant to star in a country music video, and Keith knew he was the one to make it happen.
He requested a meeting, this time telling Shiro to tell Lance’s people that he wanted to make a formal apology, and to his surprise Lance accepted. Keith had been fully prepared to head into Lance’s record label with nothing but his beat up guitar to croon sweet honky-tonk until Lance had seen sense, but apparently that wouldn’t have to happen.
The meeting did end up being held in the headquarters of Lance’s record label, and Keith wore his fanciest boots and shiniest bolo tie to make sure he gave the best impression possible.
Keith and Shiro were seated and had been waiting for perhaps five minutes when Lance and his manager finally swept into the meeting room.
Remembering his good manners, Keith removed his cowboy hat and nodded his head to Lance, “Nice to meet you, Lance. Properly meet you this time.”
Lance gave Keith what he hoped was a calm smile. While he was doing his best to radiate a cool and collected air, on the inside he was freaking out. There was that secret teenage part of himself that still had a heartthrob for a hot cowboy, and seeing Keith there in his dark wash jeans and button down shirt, tight at the shoulders and trim at the waist with a belt buckle that stretched from pelvic bone to pelvic bone had Lance weak. He hadn’t realized he still had this much of a kink for sexy cowboys but one look at Keith’s five o'clock shadow and mullety hair cut had Lance wanting to put on a muscle shirt and start forking hay.
“Nice to meet you as well, Keith. What exactly did you want to talk about today?”
“Well, I gotta confess I did come here under some less than honest conditions. I know you turned me down when I asked for you to co-write my next song, but I’m here to ask again- in person.”
Lance couldn’t help the flip-flop his heart did when he heard that Keith was here as some grandiose gesture. It was just the sort of melodramatic bullshit that would’ve made for a great episode of Lonely Hearts, Hard Men, and Lance was loving every second of it. Still, one look at Hunk’s forbidding face- Keith’s manager Shiro looked like he was about to faint, that was funny- had Lance biting his cheek and saying, “I’m so sorry, Keith, but I’m afraid I just can’t partner with you at this time.”
“You sure about that, pretty boy?” Keith asked, voice deep and a challenge in his eyes. “Can’t, or won’t? I know what your tattoo says- heck, the whole world knows. Too late to hide it now. Ain’t no shame in bein’ a fan of country music- only shame in hidin’ your true self.” He leaned over the table, and Lance found himself doing the same, drawn in to Keith’s countrified magnetism. “Be a man, Lance McClain. Own up to what you truly love. If yer fans are really fans, they’ll love whatever you make long as it’s good, and by golly this’ll be the best song you’ve ever written in your doggone life. Stake my best pair of boots on it.”
Lance gave a shaky exhale and then sat back in his chair. “With an offer like that, Mr. Kogane, how could I resist?”
The night of the premiere for Lonely Hearts, Hard Men saw Lance and Keith together on the red carpet again, but in a very different way. They were seated in the back of another sleek, black car, just about to get out and face the paparazzi.
“You ready to show ‘em what we’ve got?” Keith asked.
“You bet, partner,” Lance said, adjusting his bodice one last time.
When they stepped out of the car they were momentarily blinded by the number of cameras flashing around them. Lance let out a bright laugh and grabbed Keith’s hand to tug him down the carpet.
Together, they were wearing nearly $4,000 in denim. Lance’s sleeveless, low backed gown with another train (this one in a distressed, light wash denim, not diamonds) was thoughtfully coordinated with Keith’s button down, suit jacket and jeans, all in different shades of denim.
The questions tonight were a little different, and there were as many for Keith as there were for Lance.
“Who asked who out first?”
“Keith, how does it feel to be dating a living legend?”
“Lance, did you fall in love with Keith before or after you two co-wrote ‘Every Cowboy Needs a Partner’?”
Lance and Keith shared a look before Keith stepped forward to address the press. “From the moment I saw that tattoo, I knew I’d roped myself the perfect prize. He ain’t a living legend, not to me at least, he’s just my partner on the plains of life.”
Lance took Keith’s hand again and took his turn addressing their audience. “I honestly couldn’t tell you if it was before or after. I think it might have started the moment he met me in person to apologize for our- memorable first meeting.”
“One last question!” Shouted a reporter. Lance nodded for him to go ahead and ask.
“Is Keith going to get a matching tattoo?”