LGBTQ Rockstar Romance

Date Published: September 4, 2026

After Julian’s sister sets him up with a charming Frenchman, Rahul
thinks he may be getting over Julian, especially since Julian is back with his
ex, Michael. Their band is finally taking off and the future seems bright.
Then Julian hints he may return Rahul’s feelings. But what might happen
if they become more than friends?

WARNING: Violence, Drinking/Substance use, Mentions of murder, Trauma/PTSD.

Julian’s flat was a disaster, but Mel couldn’t be sure if it was
on account of Julian tearing the place apart in a fit of pique or if it was
always like this. Based on what his room had been like when she and her big
brother had lived at home, she didn’t really doubt this was just the way
he lived.

Mel hadn’t been here since the day Julian had moved in three years ago.
She saw enough of her brother at the place where they worked, the place where
they drank, and the place where they performed. She hardly needed to come
round his place to get even more time with the manic muppet.

Julian even did devastation manic. He was pacing around the living room,
pulling at his hair, talking a mile a minute. Mel could hardly keep up with
what he was saying, if he was saying anything at all and not just babbling
incoherently.

“… just a jazzy giraffe freak clomping around my life with his
big stupid hooves and not even looking for oncoming traffic or
anything… wouldn’t even slow down at a zebra crossing, even if
there was kids in it, or like countryside sheep or whatever… just plow
right through ‘em — WHAM — ‘sorry, missus, was this your
daughter sheep? Too bad, I’m after Julian, can’t slow down or
I’ll lose him!’ Honestly, it’s like he
isn’t…”

Mel grabbed a handful of Julian’s fake leather jacket as he came past
and yanked him down onto the sofa beside her. He looked startled and
disorientated, like a somnambulist being unceremoniously awoken. He blinked at
Mel as though only just now noticing her.

“You’ll give yourself an aneurysm going on like that,” Mel
said coolly, lighting up a cigarette.

Her words were the scissors that cut the strings of Julian’s loosely
gathered sanity. He crumpled in on himself, burying his face in his hands. For
one horrified moment, Mel thought he might be crying. But he just groaned, a
long pitiful noise like that of a wounded animal.

“It’s all gone tits up, hasn’t it?” he mumbled into
his palms.

It had in fact, in Mel’s opinion, gone tits up. Julian’s best
friend, Rahul — the “jazzy giraffe freak” — had told
Julian’s creepy blond boyfriend, Michael, that Rahul and Julian had
slept together. Michael had ended things with Julian. Julian had clobbered
Rahul (a very un-Julian-like thing to do). Rahul then confessed his undying
love for Julian and Julian had… run off. Cowardly little prick.

Rahul wasn’t just Julian’s best friend, he was also the most
musically talented member of their band — a band Mel played bass in, mind.
Without him, the band would dissolve into nothing and Julian would be left
rudderless. He lived for their shite band. Hell, he lived for Rahul. The two
of them needed each other like foxes needed bins. This melodramatic
love-triangle nonsense was going to make all of their lives positively
implode. Well, maybe not Mel’s life. She owned a record shop and
she’d be fine. And maybe not Kwambe’s life either. He was too cool
to be affected by anything. But definitely Julian and Rahul’s lives, and
Mel had sworn, years ago when her and Julian’s mum had started drinking,
that she would look out for her empty-headed brother and keep him safe.
She’d been fixing his life ever since. She’d be damned if she
wasn’t going to fix it this time.

“It ain’t so bad,” Mel told Julian. She nudged him until he
peeked out between the fingers he held over his eyes. She extended a cigarette
to him. He took it and let her light it for him. It was the most affectionate
gesture she’d offered him in quite some time. “One of you could be
dead. That’d really be something to cry about.”

He threw her a withering glare with his red-rimmed eyes.

“So, you shagging that Michael bloke, then?”

Julian choked slightly on the smoke in his throat. He’d never told her,
in so many words, that he was dating Michael. Michael had just shown up one
day, hanging around Julian, while Julian stared at him with the eyes of a boy
looking at a bloody Christmas tree. Julian had also never told her he was a
bit bent either, but Mel had worked that out on her own, too.

Julian fidgeted with the cigarette butt in his fingers. It was odd to see
him… if not embarrassed, then apprehensive. He usually did things like
he couldn’t give a shit what others thought, though Mel knew that was a
load of horse shite. He acted like he didn’t care, but no one cared more
what other people thought than Julian Collier. He’d been caring since
they were kids, only he’d gotten better at pretending. The thing is,
when you want people to think you’re really cool, you have to get them
to think you don’t care what they think. Julian was also obsessed with
people thinking he was a little daft. That much was lucky, because, as far as
Mel was concerned, he was a little daft.

He nervously pushed his fringe off his forehead only for it to flop back down
at an uneven angle. “Yeah. Or, well, I was.”

“He chucked you ‘cause you and Rahul shagged?”

“That sounds like we did it yesterday,” Julian whinged. “It
was ages and ages ago. Back at uni. And we were both drunk as you like. It
didn’t even count, if you ask me.” Despite himself, he was going
quite red around the ears and getting splotchy red patches high on his cheeks.
“I’d forgotten all about it. I can’t even believe Rahul
remembered. And that he told Michael. Imagine that!”

It was all coming together now. She remembered the trip Julian had taken up
North to visit Rahul, only to come back one day early, all jumpy and not
wanting to talk about it. Afterward, he’d not seen Rahul for years.
Then, when Rahul came back, they were all distant and weird around each other.
They’d had a drunken fumble together, of course. For one of them it was
just an awkward night that had compromised a friendship. For the other…

“He also told you that he loves you,” Mel reminded him around her
cigarette butt.

Julian folded his arms and hunched his shoulders in that way he did when he
was stopping himself from covering his ears like he would’ve as a little
kid. “Whatever. He’s confused. I dunno. He can’t love me.
That’s just mental. He’s my best mate — he was my best mate. He
just thinks he’s in love with me ‘cause he loves me, you know,
like friends or whatever. And anyway, that’s the other reason Michael
dumped me, you know? He could see Rahul’s all obsessed with me and he
didn’t want to get himself in the middle of whatever it is we’ve
got going on. He didn’t want to end up like Aisling did. Having rows all
the time ‘cause Rahul’s put himself between us.”

Hearing the name of Julian’s ex-girlfriend gave Mel pause. “Were
you shagging him when you were still with Aisling?”

Julian dropped his cigarette. He retrieved it before it could burn a hole in
the carpet next to the constellation of cigarette burns already there.
“No. ‘Course not,” he said defensively in the way he did
when he was lying. “I’d never cheat on her, would I?”

“I don’t know,” Mel said. “Would you?”

“I mean — all right, so I’d started seeing him a bit when we were
still together,” Julian immediately capitulated. Mel beamed. So she
could still wheedle the truth out of her brother after all. “But we
didn’t sleep together or anything. It wasn’t cheating. Not
really.” He was imploring as if Mel were the barrister presiding over
his case. She was only a curious third party with no stake in the game. So she
merely shrugged.

He ran an unhappy hand through his hair, which by now was standing up at all
sorts of odd angles. “What am I gonna do?”

“What you’ve gotta do is get your shit together. Both of you. I
got a business to run, you know? What am I supposed to do? Sack one of you and
hire somebody neither of you ballbags have fucked? And we got a band, or have
you forgotten that as well?”

“I thought you hated the band.”

“I do, but I’ve started counting on that extra gig dosh.” It
felt good to pay for her grass with money that didn’t come directly from
her dead nan’s business. “And you love the damned thing. Are you
gonna find yourself a replacement keyboardist slash guitarist who shares your
same crazy vision of a dystopian soundscape? Think it’s easy to find one
of them? You gonna put an ad out in The Sun?”

“Why don’t you ask Rahul?” Julian cried. “He’s
the one who’s gone and cocked everything up! It’s his fault for
having feelings — or thinking he’s got feelings. If he weren’t
obsessed with me, he’d have never sabotaged my relationship. If he were
following somebody else around like a bleeding puppy, then maybe me and
Michael would still be together.”

“That’s it,” Mel said, snapping her fingers in the air.

“What is?” Julian asked dubiously.

“We need to set Rahul up with somebody. Get him to fall in love with
somebody else. That way Michael won’t have anything to worry about and
the two of you can make up. Then you and Rahul can get back to being mates,
and Bob’s your uncle — everything back to normal.”

Julian’s dubiosity had not dissipated. “You reckon? I
dunno.” He made a face somewhere between a sneer and a wince that made
it look like he was about to sneeze. “He’s been building his
feelings up for me for years, said so himself. I don’t think we can come
in with some, erm…”

“Bloke. He is gay, you know.”

“Right — some bloke — and think he’ll be all gone on him in two
shakes and forget all about me. He thinks he loves me, you know? That’s
massive, that is. When someone’s got gangrene, you don’t come in
with a plaster and think that’s gonna make it all better.”

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing. You leave it all up to me.
I’ll sort it. I always do.” And even though she was wearing her
best smug expression, he still had the gall to look less than convinced.

As a queer, nonbinary, person of color, Nicky Silber has made it their mission
to bring diversity into all of their creative outlets. Born in New York,
raised in Mexico, they studied fine art in San Francisco and have worked in
the video game industry since 2012. They currently live in the wilds of North
Carolina with their young son and too many pets. Their only two goals in life
are to continue to tell queer love stories and, to a lesser extent, finally
knit their own sweater.

Contact Links

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