Charttoppers - 20. One Last Dance

Why did things turn out so bad?

Was it just a dream, everything we did, everything we had?

As the summer slowly turned to autumn, Ash found himself pouring all of his energy into work. His perfectionist streak came to full prominence as preparations for his tour neared the end. For the last several months, his dancers, band and he were having rehearsals at least three times a week, wanting to make sure they give the audience the best show possible. For the most part, Ash liked to keep things spontaneous at his concerts, but some tracks were highly choreographed and required precision when it comes to dancing and stage props. All of this was now being put to practice, as the first leg of the tour had started just a week ago at the West Coast of the USA, with the first concerts in Los Angeles and San Francisco.

Ash had always loved those cities, especially the latter one, and was now seriously considering relocating there permanently. The move would provide him with the change he so desperately wanted, and would also get him further away from Marcus, who was still frequently on his mind. While the dancer’s jealousy was something that had bothered him, Ash couldn’t deny his own fault for the demise of their relationship. He had been using the record label as a convenient excuse to not come out, but if he was free of those constraints, would he really have the courage to do it? He wasn’t so sure.

The San Francisco concert went better than expected, with an incredible atmosphere at the sold out arena and many celebrities in the audience. One of them was Vincent Vale, a gay singer who had a string of dance hits in the late 80s. Long retired from show business, he was now living a quiet life far away from the spotlight, doing occasional charity work and helping the LGBT community.

“I wonder if I may shamelessly use my celebrity status to get a moment of Ash’s time? I would very much like to say hello,” the sixty-something man said when he appeared backstage after the concert, coming across Ash’s manager.

“Mr Vale, how are you?” Paul shook his hand. “I hope you enjoyed the concert.”

“I most certainly have, Ash is a real talent. He reminds me a little of myself back when I started my career.”

“I’m glad to hear you had fun. I’ll go check on Ash, I’m sure he’d love to meet you,” the manager smiled before entering the singer’s dressing room.

“Vincent Vale? What does he want?” the Korean asked, in the middle of toweling his hair after taking a shower. He was surprised to hear about the visitor, but not unpleasantly. Having grown up in Korea, he didn’t know much about American music from the previous century, but he had heard about Vincent as a once popular gay singer.

“Says he wants to meet you. I can tell him you’re too tired if you want,” Hank offered.

“No, I’ll come out and say hi, no harm in that. Let me just get dressed.”

A few minutes later, the Korean came out of his dressing room and entered the one next to it, where Hank and Vincent were sitting and chatting.

“Ash, it’s lovely to meet you. That was a wonderful show,” the older man was politeness personified, and just as flamboyant as Ash had remembered it from the few videos he had seen.

“Thank you. It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Vale.”

“Oh, please, none of that Mr. Vale stuff. It makes me feel old and crusty. Call me Vincent.”

“Sorry, Vincent,” Ash corrected himself. “Would you like something to drink? We have a minibar here,” he offered, opening the small fridge in the corner of the room.

It wasn’t long before the three men were sipping on red wine, talking about Ash’s life back in South Korea, the charity causes that Vincent supported, and his career beginnings in the early 80s.

“How did you get into show business? Things were probably a lot different back then, right?” the Korean asked.

“I’m afraid this is going to sound very cliche, but that’s a long story. How much time do you have?”

Ash grabbed the bottle of wine, raising it in the air. “I think we have some time to kill.”

~~

“You know, I started my foray into show business much later than you. You were, what, seventeen when your first album came out? At that age, I didn’t even know I was going to become a singer, much less that I’ll have such a whirlwind of a career. Times were so much different back then, you know. We didn’t have any of the avenues young people now have - social media, streaming, none of it. We only had radio and television at the time. That was it. I often dreamt of becoming a star in my teenage years, but I hadn’t yet acted on it. I simply didn’t have the opportunities.

I was born in a very small, rural town. It was… let’s just say not an ideal environment if you wanted to get into showbiz, or if you had any big dreams in general. If you wanted to become a carpenter, baker, tailor, you could have an alright life. Get married, have a couple of kids, the works. For most people, that kind of life was just fine. My parents were among them. They settled for it and never asked for more.

My aunt, though, she was a different story. My father and her had been very close all their lives. He was three years older, and as her big brother, he always looked out for her. They were two peas in a pod. After she got married, she gave birth to her son, Aiden, the same year my mother had me. We were born just a few months apart. I remember later going through our old family photos, me and Aiden as babies, sitting on our mom’s laps. We probably would’ve been best friends…

But, my aunt and uncle got fed up with the small town life, so they decided to move a year after Aiden was born. They wanted better opportunities for themselves and for their son, so they moved to San Francisco. It caused a big rift in the family and my father never forgave her. He was a very stubborn man, very set in his ways. In those first months after my aunt and uncle left, my mother tried to convince him they should consider moving too, for my sake if not for their own, but he wouldn’t hear it. He wouldn’t even move to another street, let alone across the country. He was content working in his tiny, stuffy room in the post office, while mom spent her days at home, taking care of me.

So, I grew up not even knowing half of my family. Aunt and uncle would send us letters and Christmas cards every year, but I wasn’t allowed to read them. Not until I was older, at least. I didn’t really ask much, I just knew there had been some falling out and that they hadn’t visited in years.”

Let's make it a memory, a night of our own

A thing to remember when we're all alone

“But I digress. I wanted to tell you about Niles - my first love.

I was definitely a late bloomer when it came to love. I remember all the boys in high school talking about girls, stealing their dads’ porn magazines and masturbating, while I would just sit there and laugh awkwardly, pretending I knew exactly what they were going through. I couldn’t share any stories of my own. It was the seventies and things were so much different back then. I couldn’t just come out and tell them I was gay.

But things changed when I met him... I remember everything about that day. We had a mini concert in a field on the outskirts of town. There was a small stage set up, with rows of white plastic chairs lined up on the grass in front of it. Anyone could participate, and so my friends talked me into it.

I got up there, and I remember being nervous as hell. But when I grabbed the mic and looked at the few dozens of people in the audience, I noticed Niles. He was sitting in the front row, looking at me expectantly. I recognized him at once - he was a new student in our school and I had a crush on him since I first saw him. He was tall, skinny, with beautiful blue eyes and long, blond hair. His smile… It was the most beautiful sight in the world. Maybe it’s the nostalgia talking, I don’t know, but I do know that he made me feel like I never felt before. The way he would look at me and smile… He knew that I was gay too, he must’ve known. I don’t know how, I guessed he sensed it just like I did with him. I guess I’ve always had a very good gaydar.

Anyway, when I finished my song and left the stage, he approached me, his cheeks a little rosy. He must’ve been nervous, but he looked adorable.

“Hey, um, I’m Niles. We go to school together. I just wanted to say you did a great job, you have a really good voice,” he shook my hand and smiled.

“Thanks! I was so nervous,” I admitted. “I’m Vincent. And I remember seeing you at school. You’re new here, right?”

“Yeah, I just moved here with my parents. I don’t really know anyone here,” he shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Well, now you know me,” I stated matter-of-factly. “Are you gonna sing too?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to break the mic with my voice,” he laughed as we started walking together, going to join my friends in the audience.

We hit it off and became fast friends, and then a few months later we became boyfriends - in secret, of course.

I still remember the school dance at the end of that year. My family didn’t have a lot of money, so I couldn’t buy a fancy new outfit. Instead, I wore my best grey bell bottoms and a green shirt with colorful flowers all over it. I loved that shirt so much. Oh, and my shiny black boots! My mother cut my hair that day - I had a mullet, not nearly as beautiful as Niles’ long hair, though.

He looked so handsome that night, in his high-waisted white pants and a fancy pink shirt. I wish I still had pictures from that night, but oh well...

The evening was a lot of fun, but we couldn’t dance together like we wanted to. Then they started playing ABBA, ‘Dance While The Music Still Goes On’, and we knew we had to get on the dancefloor. So, I grabbed one of my girl friends and started dancing with her, looking over her shoulder at Niles. He did the same - as he slow-danced with his friend, he kept his eyes on me. That way, we could pretend we were dancing together, as if there was no one around us, while giant disco balls glimmered from the ceiling above us.

At the end of the night, when I came home, I could hear someone whispering from behind my house.

“Psst. Hey, Vincent, over here.”

As I peeked behind the wall, I saw Niles crouching there, hiding behind a bush. There was a devilish grin on his face.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” I stood there surprised, but he quickly motioned for me to get down so I wouldn’t be seen. I did as he said, giggling. My heart was racing, though. I didn’t want anyone to see me, but I couldn’t resist him.

“I couldn’t leave without saying a proper goodnight,” he whispered as he stared at me with his lovely blue eyes. They twinkled in the moonlight like stars. He placed one hand on my cheek, his skin warm and soft to the touch. I closed my eyes and our lips touched - it was magic. I kissed him like I could never get enough, and he returned the kiss with just as much passion.

I loved him, I truly did, even though we were only sixteen. I thought we would spend the rest of our lives together, and sometimes I still wonder if we could have. I guess I’ll never know.”

But we didn't make it 'cause nothing's the same

We just couldn't help it, nobody's to blame

“It wasn’t until I turned nineteen that I finally convinced my parents to let me take a trip to San Francisco. I guess even father couldn’t hold me back anymore since I was no longer a child. Of course, they wanted me to go to a university, but I had other plans. I wanted to be a singer so badly.

I had received a record player for my birthday, and I would use all of my pocket money to buy records. ABBA was always my favorite. When I bought ‘Waterloo’, I believe I listened to it for twelve hours straight. I just couldn’t get enough. I wanted to do what they were doing - make music, sing, travel the world. It seemed like an impossible dream for someone like me, but I knew I had the voice for it. I just had to get noticed.

Of course, my parents weren’t crazy about me going to the big city alone, so they suggested I take my ‘best friend’ with me - Niles. We were both thrilled at the idea. It was the middle of summer and we had nothing better to do, so we packed a few bags and hit the road.

Before we left, I wrote down my aunt’s address from the letters she sent us and decided I would pay her a visit. I couldn’t help my curiosity. If my father didn’t want to talk to her, that didn’t mean I couldn’t. He would never have to know.

When Niles and I arrived at her place, I was surprised to say the least. It turned out aunt Clara and uncle Jack were living in a beautiful two-story house with a large, lush garden - it looked like something I had only seen in magazines. She was working as a doctor in a local hospital, and my uncle was a big lawyer, having his own law firm. The most important part was that they received us both with open arms.

We spent pretty much that entire first evening crying tears of joy for being reunited after eighteen years. I honestly never knew I would be so welcomed.

“Nonsense, you are not staying at a hotel,” aunt Clara insisted, as she took my bags from me. “We have plenty of room here for both of you, and you can stay as long as you like. We could use some company anyway.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, where’s Aiden?” I bit my lip, realizing I forgot to ask about my cousin.

“Oh, he’s moved out. He’s enrolled in university,” she smiled proudly, “so he got a job and his own apartment. Well, he and his girlfriend Julia are living together. You can stay in his room, and your friend can take the guest room. Come on, let me show you.”

When I entered my cousin Aiden’s room, I was overwhelmed with feelings. It wasn’t jealousy, though. More like nostalgia - for something I never had. I sat my bags down on the floor and observed the photos on the walls and cabinets: Aiden and his friends on a skiing trip, aunt and uncle on a trip to Paris, Aiden and his girlfriend at a music festival...

Alright, maybe there was a little jealousy, but it was mostly sadness and this feeling of… frustration, knowing that my life could’ve turned out so differently. What if my parents had moved to San Francisco all those years ago? Would I have traveled Europe and been going to concerts instead of saving up every dollar I got just to be able to buy records? Would I have my own apartment where I could live with my boyfriend? I wasn’t bitter at Aiden, my aunt, uncle, or even at my parents. I was just sad, thinking of all those missed opportunities. That’s when I started thinking - maybe it wasn’t too late to change my life?”

Dance while the music still goes on, just like the night I met you

Dance and believe me, when you're gone, you know I won't forget you

“Niles and I enjoyed our visit to San Francisco very much. We explored the city on our own, went out with my aunt and uncle, and even met Aiden and his girlfriend. Both of them quickly guessed that Niles was more than just a friend to me, and I was so happy that they were ok with it.

Honestly, I was completely dazzled by the big city. At the time, San Francisco was like a wonderland for someone like me, a young man who had never left his small town. When our trip ended and we returned home, all I could think about was how to return there - permanently.

My desire to move became even stronger when I got unexpected news from my uncle about seven months after my visit. He told me one of his clients was an agent in a record label. He couldn’t promise me a record deal or anything of that nature, but he said he could set me up a meeting with him. I was over the moon.

At first, I didn’t tell anyone about my intentions. I just told my family and friends that I had a nice time on my trip. However, I couldn’t hide the truth from Niles for very long. He noticed I had become subdued and almost depressed shortly after we returned home. Going through the same old routine was affecting me more than I even realized.

“I want to go to San Francisco again,” I admitted after Niles confronted me about it one evening. We were sitting in my room, drinking beer and listening to records.

He looked at me for a moment, surprised, before he smiled and took my hand.

“Well, we can go again when we save up for the trip. Why not, I’m up for it whenever you are,” he suggested as he brought my hand to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on it. It made me feel even worse for what I was about to say.

“Honey, what I mean is… I want to move there,” I somehow managed to utter.

“Oh…” This time, when he looked at me, there was more than surprise in his eyes. There was fear and concern.

“I don’t want to spend my life here like my parents. I want to go out there while I’m still young. I want to try and become a singer,” I blurted out in one breath. “And I’d love for you to come with me.”

Niles’ silence told me everything. It was too much to ask, I knew it. I imagined that was how my aunt felt all those years ago when she announced she would be moving and leaving her big brother and their parents behind.

“I… I don’t think I can,” he finally replied, looking down at my hand in his own. “I mean, I like visiting the city for a few days, but I can’t imagine myself living there. I like it here. My family, friends, my everything is here.”

“Except me.”

ABBA was playing in the background, and when our song came, I stood up and took him by the hand, pulling him up on his feet. In the middle of my room, we held each other and danced, but this time it wasn’t our friends separating us - it was our dreams.”

So dance while the music still goes on

And let it be our last goodbye.

~~

“Did you see each other again?” Ash asked, wiping his eyes with a paper tissue. He rarely cried, but this time he couldn’t help himself. When he agreed to meet the popular sixty-something singer after his San Francisco concert that night, he had no idea it would end with him bawling his eyes out.

“No,” Vincent replied, shaking his head sadly, a faraway look in his eyes. Even though he had aged, one could see he was once a handsome man.

“Why not?” Ash asked. “Sorry if I’m asking too much.”

“Don’t worry. It’s been decades, I can talk about it. The pain is still here, but it’s dulled over time,” the older man said. “At first, it was just too hard. I was heartbroken, and I assume so was he. I needed time to heal, but I don’t know if I ever did. Eventually, I received a phone call, but not from him. It was my mother, calling to tell me that there was a car crash...” He went quiet, staring into the distance.

“I’m sorry,” Ash whispered, glancing at the other man.

Vincent sat still, his eyes wet with tears. “Thank you,” he nodded after a while. “I’m sorry too.”

Back in his tour bus, Ash looked at the clock - it was five in the morning. He lay in the small bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. His right hand was firmly gripping his phone, as if unable to let go. He unlocked it and started scrolling through the gallery, stopping at one particular picture - an old photo of him and Marcus. It was taken at the top of a ferris wheel the summer when they first met. It was the first date where they were able to kiss out in the open, as they were high above the ground where no one could see them.

Opening the calendar, Ash checked his schedule. He had another promo event in San Francisco in three days, followed by a TV appearance in Vegas two days later, and then more concerts on the East Coast. He wouldn’t be back in New York for another three weeks. That was too long.

Determined, he dialed the number and placed the phone against his ear. He couldn’t care less that it was so late.

“Uhhh, hello?” his personal assistant muttered, clearly roused from his sleep.

“Mikey, I’m so sorry to wake you up, but it’s urgent. I need you to book me a flight to New York asap.”