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When Eddie wrote that stupid song, he never knew it would be his only hit. Even then, it was only a hit because some DJ remixed it and made it popular in the club scene. He was a kid when he wrote it, inexperienced, and it showed in his writing. Eddie had grown since then and he was perfectly content with that.
Eddie still put out an odd track here and there, just to keep his mind limber and fingers in the game. They were softer numbers — easy guitar and comforting lyrics that spoke of a different time. They never made it big, only a few thousand plays on Spotify.
It was fine — Eddie discovered he liked producing more than creating and he still got an odd royalty check here and there. He moved to Chicago to help in a newer studio and helped find their sound. His life was modest, but he loved it. He liked being behind the scenes, pushing new artists into the spotlight — found it more rewarding than being the one on the stage.
When some up-and-coming director came to him and asked if they could use his one-hit wonder in their new movie, Eddie agreed easily. He had been approached about something like this before but had always turned others down. Yet, he found himself signing a contract before letting the possible consequences sink in. All he could do was hope it was used in the background and no one would notice it.
Eddie was sent an early copy of the film so that he could see it and boy, was he wrong. His song was at a pivotal moment, a centerpiece of the film. There would be no hiding from it, no slipping under the radar. Everyone’s search bars would be filled with buzzwords in an attempt to find out who soundtracked the most important song in this movie.
“Maybe the movie will flop and no one will see it!” his manager, Jeff, tried to reassure him. “I mean, it’s a little weird.”
“Jeff, I love you, but did we watch the same movie?” Eddie teased. “Yeah it was weird — that was the whole point.”
Of course, Eddie was right. His song blew up on the charts for the first time ever, not some club remix — his song. Eddie gained new followers on his social media platforms, people recognized him on the streets.
Jeff was thrilled, eating up every bit of the craze. He made Eddie do some stupid social media challenge videos with his song playing in the background. Eddie even ended up doing a collaboration with some popular social media creator at Jeff’s insistence.
He had an artist in the studio when Jeff burst through the door to show him a video. Eddie wanted to be annoyed with him for ruining a flawlessly executed take, wanted to smack him upside the head and force him out the door. He wanted to… but when Eddie saw the most beautiful man he’d ever seen singing his song, he didn’t seem to care anymore.
The man on the screen was stunning — tanned skin dotted with freckles, floppy chestnut hair, a soft smile on his face as he sang. He wore a faded yellow sweater, well-worn jeans, and a little gold chain around his neck. Eddie could tell that his eyes were kind, even behind the glasses that he wore.
“Jeff, who is this?”
“I don’t know, man — some indie duo.” He pulled the phone back and Eddie found his hand following after it. “Violent Skies? Guess they’re from here actually.”
Pretty Boy had a melodic voice, a gentle tone, and the way he phrased things was enchanting. They had turned Eddie’s song into something he could never imagine. It was still the same underneath it all — yet vastly different. It was how Eddie had envisioned the song all along. Pretty Boy had injected the song with the sunshine he had dreamed of.
Eddie tried to keep his cool — act like the man on the screen hadn’t affected him. He shoved Jeff away, told the artist in the booth to start again, and pulled out his phone.
He had to meet the pretty boy with the sunshine voice if it was the last thing he did.
—
When Robin suggested making a cover of some song from this new movie, Steve figured it was a waste of time. He hadn’t even seen the movie Robin was talking about and he’d never even heard the song that she wanted to do but he figured he’d give it a listen before he shot her down.
It was a good song — heavier beat, deep lyrics that hid beneath guitar riffs. He caught himself humming it on more than one occasion as he worked on new pieces. Eventually, he found himself going back to the artists' page and listening to his other stuff as well.
The other songs were different than the single they were covering. They were lighter, more of an acoustic sound, more soulful. Those were the songs he played on repeat while he cooked, as he walked to the train station, while he went on his morning runs.
It didn’t help that Steve found himself insanely attracted to Eddie Munson. He had eventually made his way over to his Instagram profile and spent far too much time browsing the pictures there. He kept finding himself staring at wild curly hair and a toothy grin. He was all dark clothes and pale skin littered with tattoos.
There were several pictures of him with another guy named Jeff, a few with an older man, an older throwback picture with a group of people. But Steve kept watching the videos of him playing guitar. The way he moved his long fingers against the strings was mesmerizing, his gravel-filled voice lightly singing along. He couldn’t help but want to be noticed by him.
So, it wasn’t hard to convince him to hop into a studio with a videographer and record a cover. Of course, Steve was still worried. He knew that covers could break a band or make them, and they hadn’t been around long enough to have a cushion of fans to fall back on. Still, he found himself standing in the middle of a studio late one night with Robin singing Eddie Munson’s hit song. All he could do was hope it would fly under the radar and go unnoticed by everyone other than Eddie.
A few weeks after they posted the video on their YouTube, he and Robin noticed the climb up the charts. Turns out, doing indie covers of a song from the most popular movie of the year can do wonders for your career.
When he and Robin started Violent Skies, it was just a way to get out some of their feelings — growing up gay in a small town, mothers who didn’t give a shit, and fathers who drank too much. This was never the plan. He never expected to hear his voice singing beneath edits on TikTok or in the background of stupid cooking videos.
Steve’s following on social media skyrocketed rather quickly and far too many people noticed him for his liking. He found his inbox full of messages — people flirting, people saying his voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard, agencies asking if they were signed anywhere. They were just noise for him to filter through.
But one message stood out from the others.
—
“I shouldn’t have even sent the message, it was fucking stupid,” Eddie lamented. Chrissy had come over for their usual Friday Chinese food binge and movie night, and after she had him distracted with dim sum, she begged him to send a message to Steve.
“Babe, you’ve been pining for a fucking week.” Her strawberry curls bobbed as she munched down on an egg roll. “Besides, he’s an artist he probably appreciates the —”
Her sentence was interrupted by the ping of Eddie’s phone. They locked eyes momentarily before Chrissy lunged for his phone, her small frame easily slipping through his arms.
“Christine Renee Cunningham, I swear to —”
“‘Hey Eddie!’” she read as she darted around the room. “‘Thank you so much! It was such a fun track to do. I love all of your stuff, honestly, and I listen to your other stuff daily. Does that make me a stalker or just your biggest fan? I’m Steve, by the way. Nice to meet you!’ Eddie this is so positive!”
Eddie wanted to sink into the floorboards. The whole situation was so far out of his comfort zone that he didn’t know how he got there. He never was the guy who had good music or friends — let alone some hot guy in his inbox saying that he liked his music.
“Eddie, you have to message him back. If you don’t, I’ll do it for you.”
He quickly snatched his phone back, knowing that if he allowed Chrissy to answer, it would go much differently than he would like. He typed up a quick response to Steve as he sat down on the couch and hit send before Chrissy could add anything else.
The message Eddie typed was short, yet friendly. He wanted to flirt more but figured taking it slow would be a better option.
“‘Nice to meet you too! I’m so glad you like my stuff. Not many people do. Got a favorite?’” Eddie read as Chrissy rolled her eyes.
“You should have written ‘I’d like to rip that yellow sweater off your body and have you plow me into the —’”
“Okay, that’s enough!” Eddie interrupted, feeling his cheeks already bright red. “I’m not used to this, Chris. Men don’t like me. Not ever. So, sorry if I don’t want to send him running for the hills.”
Her expression turned soft at his confession, and she padded over to sit beside him. She knew how hard it had been for him growing up, how lonely he had been. She had seen firsthand the heartbreaks that he had endured at the hands of ex-lovers, and she knew not to push him hard on anything.
“I think you should give yourself a little bit of a break. You’re not the same kid I knew in high school. You’ve grown and so have I, and that’s what it’s all about right?”
Of course, she was right per usual — a fact Eddie had learned to accept long ago. With a soft pinch of his cheeks, she turned back to her food and picked up the remote.
“Now, let’s wait for an answer, and go on from there. Now, which one — Scream or Titanic?”
—
Steve never expected a response from Eddie. Sure, he had messaged first, but that doesn’t mean much when it comes to communication these days. Yet there he sat, phone in one hand, dumpling in the other, eyes fixated on the screen.
Got a favorite?
Steve stared at that one little question for far too long, wondering how to politely say that anything Eddie sang was his favorite. He couldn’t quite crack how to respond, so he turned his focus to the food in front of him.
“Hey dingus,” Robin shouted from their small in-home studio. “I know you’ll never answer Eddie honestly so I did it for you.”
Steve choked on the bite of food in his mouth as he ran to where Robin was perched in front of the desktop, his personal Twitter still logged in, inbox open on the screen.
“Robin Judith Buckley, what have you done?” He screeched as he reached for the mouse. Steve read the words on the screen and wanted to sink into the rug.
That’s tricky. Can I say that you’re my favorite instead?
“Steven Christopher Harrington, I’ve listened to you pine over this man ever since I showed you his stuff. ‘Listen to this song Eddie made! Have you seen this picture of Eddie? Oh, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie! Won’t you please let me fuck —’”
“Okay, I get it! Jesus fuck,” he sighed. “You’re not wrong, though. He is my favorite. Still think you came off a little too —”
Ping
Before Steve even had the opportunity to read the message, Robin had begun reading it aloud.
“‘Well then, big boy, maybe I should show you my secret stash over coffee.’ Holy fuck, Steve, that’s a fucking date!”
In his youth, Steve found it easy to accept dates. In a small town, where choices are slim, he was considered a great choice for the people his age. He was fun, decent on the eyes, drove a nice car, lived in a big house with a pool. In the real world, where real problems matter, people like him were a dime-a-dozen. He lived in a small apartment with his best friend, worked a dead-end job at a record shop, and spent his free time hunched over a piano, playing the same two chords while trying to make it big.
Of course, Steve had accepted a fair number of dates in the past few years, but they were nothing to write home about. None of them understood what being a musician meant to him, how it wasn’t something he could just put away whenever it suited them. It had ended almost all of his relationships but something in his chest told him that this time would be different — Eddie Munson was different.
Robin smacked him in the forehead, pulling him from his mind before he became too entangled in the web of his thoughts. She was good like that, knew when Steve needed saving from Steve. Her wide eyes stared up at him from beneath her wispy bangs in anticipation. When he realized that her hands were moving back toward the keys, Steve snatched the keyboard from her before she had the chance to agree to Eddie’s coffee suggestion. If he was going on a date with Eddie Munson, he wanted to accept it himself.
—
Eddie had arrived far too early. He hadn’t meant to be at the coffee shop thirty minutes before they agreed to meet, but there he sat, a second cup of tea on the table in front of him, and a half-eaten scone that he’d long forgotten.
When he suggested the coffee thing a few weeks ago, it was almost done as a joke only for himself. He figured Steve would ghost him like most others did, assuming he would invite a pretty boy to coffee and get stood up like normal. Steve was different. They talked for hours about their music, living in Chicago, and everything in between. They shared favorite takeout places, little hole-in-the-wall music venues they loved, debated where the best spot near Grant Park for a decent drink was.
Steve made him a playlist of all his favorite songs claiming that was the best way to get to know him, so Eddie made one for him as well. Steve had good taste, and they overlapped more than he figured they would. A surprising number of the tracks on Steve’s playlist were produced by him or someone else in his studio, and Eddie couldn’t help but feel like it was fate that they met.
Before he realized what happened, Eddie had fallen a little bit in love with a man he’d never met. They both kept odd hours between being musicians and general restlessness, and it was nice to have someone who understood that. He felt at ease when talking with Steve — something he had only found with Chrissy before. He didn’t want to fall in love that quickly, but Steve was easy to love.
Chrissy teased him endlessly about how head over heels he had gone. Eddie allowed it, didn’t let it bother him, because he knew the truth — that he was scared shitless. He had been afraid to hope for the best, but he found himself struggling to do anything but that. Steve was kind and beautiful with an angelic voice that haunted Eddie’s dreams. So, he tried to calm his wildly beating heart, tried not to get his hopes up, but each time he thought he had it under control, Steve pulled him right back into the fantasy Eddie kept diving into. Steve made him want to write new music, have his name plastered on a big sign surrounded by bright lights, all so he could tell an adoring crowd how lucky he was to have a boy like that.
The morning of their meetup, Steve had sent him two pictures asking which sweater Eddie liked more. There was a soft gray one with a little turtleneck that looked handmade and well-loved and the yellow one from the video that brought them together. Eddie wanted to beg for him to wear the yellow, one but settled for something a touch more polite.
Don’t worry, Stevie — you look good in anything.
Eddie was teetering on the edge of hyperventilating when the bell above the door rang and caught his attention. Steve looked perfect — hair frizzed from the threat of rain in the air, that damn yellow sweater peeking out from beneath his jacket, a soft smile painted on his lips. Eddie watched as he walked up to the counter to place his order. He could hear the nervous chuckle in Steve’s voice when the barista recognized him and he took the time to sign a napkin for them. When he was finally free, he began to look around and Eddie could feel his heart threatening to pound out of his chest as Steve saw him, his smile growing wider when they locked eyes.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, he told his heart, but it was too late. As soon as Steve reached him, he pulled him into his deceptively strong arms, and Eddie was done for. Eddie could smell the lavender in his hair, the woodsy scent of his cologne on his neck, a hint of mint on his breath when he pulled away.
“Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if it was okay that I hugged you. That was so stupid of me,” Steve rambled as his cheeks turned pink. Eddie’s heart stuttered in his chest as he noticed how the blush spread down to his neck, shrouding the moles that resided there in a rose-colored blanket.
“Stevie, it’s alright,” Eddie reassured as he pushed a lock of hair off Steve’s face. “I liked it.”
Steve chuckled the same nervous chuckle as earlier as he sat down and Eddie joined him as soon as his legs allowed. For a moment, Eddie was worried that they wouldn’t have anything to talk about in person, fearing that they had used up all of their words without ever meeting.
“You know what I heard the other day?” Steve started, and Eddie couldn’t help but smile as he realized he had nothing to worry about.
They sat there for hours, the conversation never reaching a lull. They talked about the same things they had been for weeks, but now they paused to laugh or ask deeper questions about a topic. Steve listened to Eddie talk about different artists he’d worked with that week. Eddie stayed fully engrossed in a story about Robin dropping a stack of albums at work and they spent the better part of their shift fishing them from under the shelves. He loved how the mundane aspects of their lives were fascinating to each other, as though no one had ever bothered to truly listen to what either of them said.
Eventually, one of the baristas informed them they would be closing soon and Eddie wasn’t quite sure where the day had gone. His heart dropped, along with his smile, when Steve stood and donned his jacket once more. Eddie rose slowly and pushed his chair before following Steve to the door.
As they stepped outside into the drizzle that had begun a little while ago, Eddie prepared himself to say goodbye to the most perfect man he’d ever met. He knew that this was probably just a passing thing, a way for Steve to meet someone in the industry, but still, he dreamed of more.
“I don’t know about you,” Steve whispered as he leaned in, “but I don’t really want this to end here.”
Eddie’s mind fully halted, silence falling over every one of his thoughts. All of them were replaced with Steve’s smile as he waited for an answer.
“Me either,” he blurted a bit too loudly before softening his voice to speak a secret between them. “I don’t want it to end here, either, I mean.”
“Do you have any other plans today?” Steve asked as he reached out to intertwine their fingers. Eddie soaked in the feeling of Steve’s warm fingers pressed against his.
“Whatever you’d like, big boy.”
He knew Chrissy would make fun of him for falling in love with someone after the first date. Jeff would give himself all of the credit for their romance. And Eddie would let them. They could tease him for the rest of their lives because for once, he felt as though his heart wasn’t in the wrong.