Chapter Text
Daniel had taken the bait. Lestat had texted him this morning, along with his usual kilometric good morning message, to say that he was going to see him today but that Louis could not meet him yet.
This had left Louis disappointed. He really wanted to meet the man that his husband apparently had never gotten over. He didn’t know how the “interview” was going to go, but Lestat had never been a fan of them, earning a reputation for making the reporter’s life hell and becoming a constant headache for his management. He had no idea what kind of person Daniel was but Louis hoped Lestat was on his best behavior.
He tried to have a regular Saturday morning with the kids, getting Claudia ready to go out with her all pink outfit and putting Viktor on his stroller. He hadn’t had the opportunity to take Viktor with him and Claudia for their regular Saturday routine that he had started. The first item on the list would be to go to have breakfast at a cafe close to their house. Louis and Claudia have been going there since she was born and Louis needed to get out of the house and now its become a tradition. He gets a veggie omelette, Claudia gets french toast. It was about time to start bringing Viktor into their routine. What would his future breakfast be? If he was anything like his father maybe just coffee and hopefully not a cigarette.
His train of thought was suddenly interrupted when he heard the doorbell ring.
“Claudia stop playing with Viktor and put your shoes on, we won’t be leaving unless you put them on!” He told her, making his way to the door, ready to receive whatever package was waiting for him.
“Louis!”
Grace.
His sister was here.
“Grace? What are you doing here? Is mama with you?” Louis stood there feeling like his world was falling apart. In any other time, he would have loved to see his family, well, his sister at least. But not now. Not yet. He had no idea what to tell her. What they would say.
“Louis de Pointe du Lac are you going to let me in or not, I came to see my niece and meet my nephew,” Grace said, and without awaiting an answer walked past Louis into the house.
He felt Claudia come over and stand behind his legs, as if assessing the situation.
“Claudia, why don’t you say hi to your auntie Grace?” Louis said motioning to Claudia to come out from behind him. He felt a little bit guilty, she probably didn’t even remember Grace. The last time Louis had taken her to New Orleans was probably when she was like one year old.
“Hi Claudia,” Grace said, kneeling down. Louis remembered that Grace had always been great with children, “I’m your aunt Grace, your daddy’s sister, do you remember me?”
“No,” Claudia just said looking at Grace from behind his legs.
“Claudia!” Louis started to say before he was stoped by Grace.
“That’s okay, you were very little the last time I saw you in New Orleans. I’m here to see you and your little brother.” At the mention of Viktor, Claudia smiled and it made Louis want to melt. Claudia was so proud of being a big sister, telling anyone who would listen about her baby brother. She didn’t realize that as cute as her baby brother was, his looks were the reason their whole lives were about to change.
“Do you want to meet him?” Claudia asked Grace, finally deciding she could trust her.
Grace just smiled at the little girl and let herself be guided by Claudia into the TV room, where Louis had been getting the kids ready for the day.
He knew he couldn’t postpone this. He had been dreading this moment but it truly was foolish of him to think that his sister would let it go. It’s not like he could hide it from his family, Viktor was his baby, and he was not ashamed of him. He on the other hand was dreading the reaction his extremely catholic family would have when they saw him.
Louis followed Claudia and Grace into the TV room and waiting for his sister to see Viktor with bated breath.
Grace walked over to the stroller with Claudia jumping on the couch to look at the baby as well, just as excited as the first time, her green eyes glistening with joy.
“This is Viktor, he’s my baby” Claudia said, introducing them.
Grace took one look into the stroller and let out a gasp.
“Oh, he’s- Louis, he’s-“ Louis hoped his sister wouldn’t really state the obvious in front of Claudia, who up to this moment had not really said anything and probably hadn’t realized anything was different with the baby. Grace just looked at Louis with wide eyes and Louis just looked at her and tried to point at Claudia with his eyes, hoping his sister got the message. “He’s beautiful.”
She looked furious. Honestly, Louis would be too.
“How about we go out and catch up? Claudia can you PLEASE put your shoes on?”
***
“He’s white Louis, your baby is white, and I may not know your husband that well but I know he sure as hell is not white.”
“Grace, let me explain-“
“What were you thinking? Did you really think we wouldn’t find out? Did he leave you? What’s going on?”
“Grace-“
“Who’s the father? Are you getting a divorce? Oh I don’t know what’s finally gonna kill mama, the divorce or the white baby-“
“Grace!”
Louis had decided against breakfast at the usual spot because he needed Claudia distracted while he talked to Grace, so they grabbed a few croissants and coffees to-go at a bakery and went to the park, letting Claudia run wild on the playground with the other kids.
“Okay, let me explain please before you keep going okay? I know I fucked up but please just let me explain,” Louis looked at his baby sister who just nodded and took a bite out of her croissant looking away at Claudia as she played.
“Viktor’s father is Lestat. Lestat de Lioncourt-“
“THE ROCKSTAR?”
“Keep your voice down,” Louis told her with a hiss. He always seemed to forget about Lestat’s fame.
“We met because he is Armand’s client. We’ve been together for about 5 years, kind of,” He continued, he really didn’t know how to even begin to describe his relationship with Lestat. His best friend. The love of his life. His lover.
“Is Claudia his too?” Grace asked, as they both turned to look at Claudia who was screaming with laughter playing with a red headed girl.
“I don’t know,” Louis finally confessed. He had always hoped she was Lestat’s, at least secretly, but to be quite honest, there was the very serious possibility that she was Armand’s as well. Louis loved that Lestat never really cared and just loved Claudia regardless.
“What do you mean you don’t know? Louis, I can’t believe you, you don’t know who the father of your daughter is? What? Is she going to find out by inviting them both to her wedding or what was your plan?”
“Grace I really don’t know what to tell you, okay? My marriage with Armand was a mess I started my relationship with Lestat before Claudia and when I found out about her I tried to put a stop to it,” Louis recalled this couple of months when he had tried to end it with Lestat. The emptiness he felt.
“Clearly that didn’t stick,” Grace said, absentmindedly rocking the stroller a little bit for a sleeping Viktor.
“He’s my best friend, Grace,” Louis continued. “I love him.”
“Why didn’t you get a divorce?”
The question seems so simple now. Why didn’t he get a divorce? He could have gotten one way before the gallery, way before Claudia.
“I wanted to make my marriage work.”
“By having an affair,” Grace looked at him like he was crazy.
“Grace, there’s so much about my life I haven’t told you, you really don’t understand alright? I never intended to have an affair with Lestat. I just- I don’t know.”
He started telling Grace about the past 6 years of his life. About meeting Armand, and being honest for once. About the fights, about the make ups, about the isolation he felt. The number of therapist he had seen. Louis knew that he only allowed his mother and sister to see the good side of his life. He never wanted them to see the ugly, the part that might make them say I told you so.
“Oh Louis,” Grace said once Louis seemed to have run out of words. She held his hand so gently that it made Louis want to cry.
“So what are you gonna do know? Ask him for a divorce?”
“I can’t, we- I signed a prenup,” Louis said taking a sip of his tea to regain his composure, “If I ask him for a divorce he keeps everything, Grace, I can’t let him do that. Not my house. He’s not keeping my Gallery.”
“So what are you going to do?” Grace said sounding even more confused, “I thought you wanted to be with Lestat.”
“I do, but Armand has to be the one to ask me for the divorce, he owns half of the Gallery, and if I ask for it, then he’s never going to let me have it, out of spite, probably.”
“I mean, you did cheat on him for most of your marriage,” Grace said matter of factly.
“Whose side are you on?”
“The babies’, you are all terrible people.”
“Yeah, fair.”
They sat in silence for a bit just looking at Claudia run around with the other little kids, having the time of her life an occasionally looking over at them on the bench and waving.
“Lestat has a plan,” Louis decided to tell Grace about Lestat’s stupid plan. He could not make himself look even more stupid in front of her, “To get Armand to ask me for a divorce.”
“A plan?”
“Yeah, he got Armand’s ex that he apparently never got over, because, by the way I was a rebound and I didn’t know, to interview him and he is sure that seeing him again will make Armand go crazy and want to be with him again or something. I don’t really know. By now I’ll say yes to anything. Turns out Lestat knows Armand way better than I do.”
“Louis, that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, me too.”
They looked at each other and started laughing so hard tears finally did start coming out of Louis’ eyes. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Saying his situation out loud to someone finally made him realize how crazy it all seemed. And how truly terrible the plan was. He really was fucked. But he just kept laughing and laughing.
“Wow, all this time I just thought you weren’t sending us pictures of the baby because he was ugly,” Grace said finally wiping away the tears running down her face, “Mama and I had a bet going on and everything.”
“He may not look like me but he is NOT ugly,” Louis said finally said calming down.
“No, he is really cute,” Grace said looking over at the sleeping two week old on the stroller.
Louis looked over at Claudia and noticed that she had sat down with the little red haired girl on the sand and was playing with some dolls that must belong to the other girl. He felt lighter. He had been keeping all of this secrets for years, only confiding half truths to Lily because she was his usual alibi. Telling Grace made him feel a little bit more grounded in reality. Grace and him had always been close, with his family always revolving around Paul and his mental health, Louis and Grace had to confide in one and other, celebrate each other’s accomplishments and help each other hide the disappointments from the others.
“I’m sorry I left,” Louis suddenly said.
Grace kept looking at the sleeping baby and said nothing.
“I know I never said anything, but I am sorry I left you,” Louis continued, “I just couldn’t be there any longer Grace, with mama and the grief, it was suffocating.”
“Do you think you were the only one grieving?” Grace answered, “You left me there with her, Louis, all on my own and with her.”
Louis knew this. He had thought about it for countless nights. He had talked about it with his therapists. The guilt he felt from being with his mother, who blamed him for Paul’s death. The guilt he felt by being away.
“She kept blaming me, Grace, if I hadn’t left I would have ended up like Paul, I just know it,” Louis said quietly. His sister said nothing but just took his hand on her own once more and squeezed it twice. And old code. We are okay.
They were going to be fine.
Grace suddenly started laughing, breaking Louis away from his thoughts.
“Oh, Lord, I’m picturing Lestat dressed like on that famous photo for Rolling Stone visiting mama in New Orleans with your white baby in tow.”
Louis knew exactly what photo she was talking about, he had actually salivated when Lestat had sent him the photos from that whole photoshoot. Wearing tight leather pants, messy make up, a corset that made his waist look even smaller than it was, and a choker with a dangling pendant with the letter L on it. It stands for Louis, chéri.
His mother would hate Lestat.
“At least he’s french, mama loves europeans.”
“He’s also half Italian.”
The started laughing again trying to imagine Lestat having dinner with their mother. Or his mother trying to force Lestat to attend mass with them.
“Am I gonna get to meet him? He is kind of part of the family now,” Grace told Louis.
“I would love for you to meet him, I think he will love you,” Louis said earnestly to his sister.
“So what’s the deal, has Armand moved out of the house?”
“He hasn’t been back but the last time we spoke it wasn’t exactly friendly,” Louis said, “But I think he is officially out for now. It’s for the best really. He hates newborns.”
Grace just snorted a laugh.
“He doesn’t like kids, Louis. How on earth did you even end up with this man?”
“Lapse in judgement, we all get them sometimes. Like when you spent a whole year wearing those horrible hats-“
“They were not horrible! They were fashionable!”
“They made you look like a street urchin in a victorian novel-“
“Everyone was wearing them!”
“-Going around the school begging people for bowls of soup.”
“Daddy,” Claudia said running over and interrupting their riveting conversation, “Can we go to the museum now?”
“Of course, cher, why don’t you say goodbye to your new friends?” Louis told her, and smiling turned to look at his baby sister taking Viktor’s stroller and grabbing their things. He was glad Grace came here, even if it was a surprise.
***
Claudia was always exhausted after the Natural History museum, that’s kind of the reason Louis loved taking her there. Of course it was cute seeing her bounce around exhibition after exhibition, being amazed by the weird ass dead animals and the (pretty cool) dinosaurs, but the definite benefit of taking her to the museum was how exhausted she was after it. It wasn’t until they made it into the Earth and Space center, where they made an obligatory pit stop at the Planetarium, that Louis saw Claudia starting to fall asleep while looking at the stars and decided it was time to go home.
Grace was waiting for them outside of the Planetarium, choosing to stay with Viktor. Louis decided this was going to be a fun week. He was going to show Grace all around New York City, after all it was her first time coming here, and Louis was nothing if not a great host. He mentally started coming up with an itinerary, while he texted his driver to come pick them up at the museum when he got an idea.
“Grace do you mind going home with the kids? I gotta pick something up nearby and I just remembered,” Louis told her once they were waiting for the car on the Lobby of the Museum. It was August in the city, and the place was packed with tourists.
“Why don’t we go now and the car can pick us up there?”
“It’s a surprise,” Louis said winking.
“Fine, but I will teach Claudia swear words in your absence.”
“I’m pretty sure, Lestat has you beat.”
The driver came around and Louis helped them all get in the SUV, placing Viktor in the car seat and trying to maneuver a boneless sleepy Claudia into hers. Once he made sure they were all set he started walking in the direction of the coffee shop he usually went to with Lestat.
Grace would really love the apple pie.
***
The coffee shop seemed oddly empty from the distance. Louis still needed to cross the street to get there, but he could tell from the other side of the street that there was nobody there. Which was strange for 4pm on a saturday.
As he made his way there he noticed the sign said they were closed, but clearly the people inside were still working as usual, with all of the baristas seemingly filling their time with menial tasks or just reading behind the counter. It was pretty strange. He decided to knock on the door to see if someone could come up to him and sell him a slice of apple pie.
That’s when he saw him. Or rather, them. Lestat was in the coffee shop, with a man Louis must assume is Daniel. He could only see the back of the man, But he could see Lestat clearly, sitting like a cat perched on the sofa, picking at his nails pretending not to pay attention to whatever Daniel must be saying. Brat, Louis thought.
As if Lestat could sense Louis’ presence, he suddenly raised his gaze to the door to lock eyes with Louis and just stared at him. What are you doing here? He could feel him asking.
That’s when Daniel turned around to see what Lestat was looking at.
Louis didn’t know what he expected of Daniel, but he certainly had not expected him. An older man, with grayish hair and bright blue eyes and an expression that let Louis know that he was seeing right through Lestat’s bullshit.
“Sorry, we are closed,” A girl had come up to say to Louis, who had gotten distracting looking at the odd pair sitting on their usual spot. Louis knew she was one of the owners, Lestat had introduced them once.
“Jessie, it’s okay he can come in,” he heard Lestat say. He had stood up and was walking towards him.
“Hi, sorry I was just in the neighbourhood and wanted some apple pie to take home, I didn’t realise it was closed.”
“Bonjour Louis,” Lestat said, oddly formal for someone who had told him the sun only shined the minute he opened his eyes this morning. He briefly hugged him and whispered in his ear “Don’t tell him you are Armand’s husband, not yet.”
“How about you join us?” Lestat said normally now, giving him one of his dazzling, PR smiles.
“I-“ Louis looked at the man observing them carefully and suddenly understood Lestat’s weird behavior. “I can’t really stay long, my sister’s in town and she’s with the kids.”
“I’ll get your apple pie ready,” Jessie said excusing herself and going behind the bar.
Louis had not choice but to follow Lestat.
They both sat on the sofa, in a way that somehow gave Louis flashbacks to his counseling days with Armand. Fuck Armand. He could not stop staring at Daniel. And Daniel in return seemed intrigued.
“Are you a Lestat's friend?”
“Yeah, I own a Gallery he- uh- bought some art. From me. From the Gallery. I don’t paint.” Louis knew he was a terrible liar, he knew he couldn’t mention that he was Armand’s husband but in this scenario he didn’t know what was his relationship with Lestat.
“I’m his mistress,” Lestat said and Louis just looked at him horrified. Daniel just raised an eyebrow as if waiting for an explanation.
“Louis is married, so we’ve been having an affair for- what? 5 years now? Next January it will be six,” Lestat said while he grabbed Louis’ hand. Louis, in turn, went stiff as a board. What the fuck?
“I didn’t think you would be here, you said you had the interview I just assumed-“
“Yeah, we tried having it at the studio, but your little home wrecker here said it had to be here,” Daniel told him.
“Hmm little home wrecker, I like that,” He heard Lestat mumble beside him, “Yes, its more private here I know the owners, so when I want to have private conversations I always let them know in advance. I pay them handsomely, of course.”
So that was why this place was always empty when they came here sometimes. Louis suddenly felt like an idiot for just assuming they had great luck and always came here either before or after rush hour.
“Why not just have them at your house, you lunatic?” Daniel asked looking at Lestat like he was an exotic bird that he was trying to understand the habits of.
“I don’t know how to make coffee.”
“Louis, I have your pies ready for you!” Jessie informed him from behind the bar. Thank god, Louis thought.
“Alright, well, it was nice meeting you,” Louis said standing up, and Daniel and Lestat stood up alongside him.
“I’m Daniel Molloy, nice to meet you as well, you must be a saint to put up with him,” He said extending his hand.
He could hear Lestat snorting a laugh beside him.
“I’ll walk you out, mon cher.” Jessie gave him his bag with the two slices of apple pie and Lestat being Lestat just told her to add it to his bill. Louis rolled his eyes but did not want to spend more time than necessary arguing there.
Once they were at the door Lestat walked out of the restaurant with him and took out his vape.
“Cher, you said you would quit smoking, those things are even worse for you.”
“I stoped smoking the cigarettes chéri, this tastes like strawberry kiwi, do you want a taste?”
“At least with the cigarettes you looked hot, now it just looks you are smoking a USB port,” Louis said shaking his head smiling.
“What was that, Lestat?” He continued, trying not to look over his shoulder but he could feel Daniel looking at them.
“How about I go to your house later and explain? You said your sister is here? I am dying to meet her.”
“Fine, just so you know, she knows everything. I mean, I kind of had to tell here when she saw Viktor.”
Louis could see Lestat take a puff of his vape and smile proudly. He really was enjoying that Viktor looked like his exact clone, despite everything.
“D’accord, I’ll see you at the house at around seven, is that alright?”
“Make it eight, I don’t want you riling Claudia up before bedtime.”
“You are a cruel one, Saint Louis.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Louis could not help the smile escaping from his lips as he started to walk away.
“Je t’aime, Saint Louis!” Lestat screamed behind him and Louis just shook his head, unable to contain the laughter that bubbled up on his chest.
***
Putting Claudia to bed was even more complicated that Louis had predicted, with the toddler seemingly with renewed energy and determined to show her Auntie Grace every single toy in her collection.
But finally he managed it and he and Grace sat in the kitchen waiting for their apple pie to come out of the over where Grace had thought to reheat it. Louis honestly just thought they would it it cold.
“I’m telling you Grace, it tastes exactly like Mama’s you’ll see, I literally have it every year for my birthday,” and for Paul’s, but he didn’t need to add not, at least not with Grace.
His phone light up with a notification.
Lestat was here.
“That’ll be him,” Louis said standing up feeling like a teenager sneaking a boy into the house.
“Look at you all excited,” Grace said laughing at him.
“Shut up or I’m gonna tell him you’re a fan.”
“You wouldn’t”
“Try me.”
Louis made his way to the door and found Lestat waiting on the other side, holding a bag and hitting his vape.
“Mon amour! It’s been so long” Lestat said marching into the house and waiting for Louis to close the door before giving him a quick kiss.
“Hi cher, I was wondering where you were, it’s already past eight,” Louis said. Lestat was known for being fashionably late, but he always made an effort with Louis knowing it drives him crazy.
“Désolé, I could not come empty handed to meet your sister,” Lestat said raising the bag dangling from his arm.
“Come on then,” Louis said grabbing him by the hand and leading him to the kitchen.
The whole kitchen smelled like home.
Grace had taken out the pies from the oven and was bringing out proper dessert plates and cutlery, by the time they walked in.
Louis wished he had a camera for the look on her face when she saw Lestat.
He knew that Lestat was striking. A statue come to life, perfectly carved, with a soft mouth, expressive eyes and a strong jaw. Tonight, Louis knew he wasn’t wearing a very risqué outfit, but he still looked stunning. With well fitted loose slacks, studded belt, a tank top, boots and the choker with the letter L, Louis would never admit it, but he loved seeing people see Lestat for the first time and knowing that he was his.
“You must be Grace,” Lestat said approaching her and giving her one of his most charming smiles, “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“And I of you,” Grace just answered, her need to gloat even bigger than her admiration.
“Louis always told me that you had a sweet tooth, so I brought some things from the city to welcome you.”
Louis didn’t even remember telling Lestat about Grace loving sugar, but he must have because Lestat suddenly started pulling out a box of cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery, a tube of what Louis could assume was banana pudding, a box of cookies from Levain and some other cookies Louis didn’t recognize but must be pretty famous, because Grace looked like a little kid in a toy store. Lestat didn’t even like any of this stuff.
“Although I’m guessing none will be as good as the apple pie, Louis assures me it tastes the same as the one your maman makes, non?”
Grace sat him down and started telling him all about the apple pie, the memories attached to it, and all thing New Orleans that Louis had already told Lestat a lifetime ago, but as he got up to put the kettle on and get them all mugs, he watched as Lestat listened to his sister tell the stories like he was hearing them for the first time.
“Anyway,” Grace continued, taking a sip from her tea and looking between the two of them, now sitting in front of her across the table, “I’ve only ever heard of you as the close family friend Lestat, but I guess we are family now.”
“We’ve been family for years now, Grace, it’s good you finally know,” Lestat answered winking, taking Louis hand on his own. Louis looked at Grace, who was looking at their joined hands.
“Do you think this plan is going to work?” Grace asks looking up, sizing up whatever Lestat’s answer is going to be. He can feel Lestat tense up and he starts soothingly rubbing circles with his thumb over his hand. He trusts him. He has to.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Louis explained?” Lestat asked, trying to sound nonchalant, as if the question bored him. Louis knew him better than this. Grace made him nervous.
“Yes, he did and frankly I don’t understand why he is allowing this,” She said, scarily sounding too much like their mother, “Louis, why don’t you come home?”
“What?” Louis asked startled. Coming home had never been an option. He felt Lestat grab his hand even tighter.
“You could get ask for the divorce, forget the gallery and come home, it would be better for the kids, hell, you could start a gallery there, Mama and I could help you with the kids.”
“He doesn’t want that, Grace,” Lestat said before Louis could say anything, “I’ve asked for the same thing myself, but the gallery is important to him. So we are doing the plan.”
“Louis, you have to think of the children, they-“
“Enough, Grace,” Louis said looking at his little sister. She did not understand. She loves him, but she has never understood him. No one in his family did, as much as he loved them.
“I love the kids, I love the gallery, I don’t want to give up everything I’ve ever built just for that asshole. I can’t let him win, Grace. If he does, I’ll be ruined, all of my money is tied up in the Gallery, and then what would happen to the kids?”
“Louis-“ Lestat started saying.
“No, Lestat I love you, but I will not make the same mistakes again. I will not have my whole family depending just on one person.”
“Mon cher, I am their father, I would never allow my children to want for anything. I would not be doing you a favor, even though I love you, I love them and I want to take care of them,” Lestat said pleadingly at Louis.
“You’re being selfish, Louis-“ Grace interjected.
“Then let me!” Louis snapped, “This man knowingly made me be miserable for 6 years, so what if I want to fucking ruin him? I don’t care, I want revenge and yeah, fuck me, I want to win, I want to have my Gallery, that he had nothing to do with and I want to fuck off and be happy with my family, that is exactly the life I should have been having for the past 5 fucking years.”
Lestat and Grace were quiet after his after his outburst. Grace looked at him like she was meeting him for the first time, and Louis had the sudden realization that throughout his life, he had tried to be the pious son, the moralizing big brother, the picture perfect eldest son that his parents wanted, never complaining, always taking care of his siblings, going to church, getting good grades, being in a good mood. What shock must Grace feel coming from New Orleans and seeing him now, sitting in this massive brownstone in New York, taking about getting revenge on his husband alongside his world famous lover.
Lestat’s laughter was the first thing to break the silence.
“Chéri, I can’t say I disagree,” Lestat said smirking at him, “Let’s fuck him up.”
Grace just looked in disbelief at the two of them. She must have thought she found an ally in Lestat, but she didn’t know him as much a Louis. He knew Lestat was salivating at the chance of fucking with Armand and the label.
“Anyway, why did you tell Daniel about us, Lestat?” He said trying to change the topic of conversation. He already knew he was being unreasonable, he didn’t need to hear it anymore.
“Oh, it’s fine,” Lestat said, trying to act casual, taking a small piece of a cookie Grace had laid out in front of them to try. Louis knew he would not like it. “Here’s the thing. Daniel can’t know you are Armand’s husband, at least not yet.”
“Why?” Grace beat him in asking.
“I want him to like you. I want him to get to know you, and us. That way when he finally sees Armand, and realizes HE is the horrible husband, he will do our work for us and force Armand’s hands. Easy.” Lestat said taking a long sip of his tea.
“Lestat, that is-“ Louis truly didn’t know what to make of this. He was in it now, there really was not backing out. “Okay, fine.”
“Fine? Louis!” Grace looked at him alarmed.
“This whole plan hinges on Armand just going along with whatever Daniel says? What if you are wrong, Lestat?” Grace asked forcefully. Louis knew she was worried about him.
“Then we’re fucked, but don’t worry, I’m not,” Lestat said annoyingly casual.
“I can’t believe-“
“Grace,” Louis interrupted, “I’m worried too, but honestly, as insane as this plan is, I trust Lestat. And if it doesn’t work out then, we’ll see what happens. Together. Okay?”
“If this stupid plan doesn’t work, come back to New Orleans, Louis, please” Grace pleaded, “You can come too, Lestat, get a house there or something, we can help with the kids, but please come back.”
Louis often dreamed of going back to New Orleans. Of taking Lestat and now the kids to his favorite places, see their faces light up when they ate a beignet. The kind of life they could have. But he also knew that moving back came with memories. And his mother. Lestat and his mother make an awful combination.
“We’ll think about it, okay?” Louis said gently, trying convey his complicated feelings about this answer to his sister.
“I love New Orleans,” Lestat said, trying to break the tension that had formed, “I would love for the kids to grow up knowing it. Claudia loved it last time she went.”
“Claudia was one year old, Les, of course she loved it.”
“Surprising, considering she kept throwing tantrums the whole trip,” Grace added.
“Claudia has a flare for the dramatic,” Lestat said defending her, smiling proudly. He loved Claudia’s temperamental streak, even though it could drive them crazy sometimes.
“I think Viktor will love it, he is such a sweet baby,” Grace said.
“Ironic, considering who he takes after,” Louis joked, giving Lestat a sideway glance.
“Okay, in all seriousness, Lestat,” Grace said, her face looking so serious it made Louis nervous for what she was going to tell Lestat, “How do you feel about goin to mass?”
Louis and Lestat just groaned in response.
* * *
5 years before
Armand was talking with his coworkers about the success tonight’s show was. Lestat was a star they said, they should start planning the US Tour as fast as possible, the demand was there. Tonight had been the first of two concerts the label had set up to get a feel of just how many people would pay to see Lestat perform. The answer was too many. The shows were sold out and people had even gathered outside of the venue trying to get a look. It was so chaotic the police even had to be called. Armand and the other executives seemed ecstatic.
Louis, however, could not give a fuck about the people there. He felt like he was in a trance. The minute Lestat appeared on the stage Louis felt like he was hit by a bolt of lightning. Lestat looked like a god on the stage, with the lights and the stage makeup accentuating his already beautiful face. Glitter, eyeliner. Bold colors and leather. Lestat commanded the audience’s attention on the stage, making the them laugh and scream at his own volition. Louis watched as he interacted with the band and with the audience, surprising himself with the pang of jealousy that he felt when Lestat got particularly close to a girl in the audience and sang directly at her.
He felt lightheaded by the time the concert ended.
LestatLestatLestatLestatLestatLestatLestatLestatLestatLestatLestatLestatLestatLestatLestat
Armand and the executives, their dates and the other concert attendees were talking as if they had not experienced the same performance that he had just seen. Lestat’s deep voice still ringing in his ears, the breathy moans he made during some songs haunting him.
He followed Armand to the car in a trance, almost as if he spoke the spell would break.
“You’re awfully quiet, beloved, did you enjoy the concert?” Armand said filling the silence of their car. The only sounds those of the car horns and usual New York white noise.
“He was great,” was all he managed to say.
“He really is an incredible performer. He’s a cunt, but he truly is talented,” Armand said sounding almost fond.
“Was he like that when you where younger?”
“Lestat has always been a hurricane. He’s unpredictable, and difficult to work with. He has always had this perfectionist streak and that’s why some people really hate working with him. But he’s worth it.”
“How did you two meet?” Louis was taking advantage of Armand’s weird openness.
“He was an actor, if you can believe it,” Armand said looking out the window into the streets, “I went to see the play he was on with some people I was going to business school with. I think one of them was dating someone in the cast, so we went. I met him at the after party and somehow we just kept seeing each other.”
“You never mentioned him before,” Louis said. He did not know why but he got the feeling there was more to the story than Armand was telling him.
“We had a complicated relationship back then,” Armand said, as if lost in time.
“Did you two fuck?” Louis shocked himself by asking this.
“Mmmm we may have had a brief relationship. But it didn’t last. Lestat has never been a person for relationships. He never wants anything serious. Always looking for the next pretty thing,” Armand said this casually, as if this words were not making Louis feel like he was going to be ill. Lestat had dated Armand. And he had never said.
“But you don’t have to worry about that, beloved. Lestat is in the past,” He said taking Louis hand on his own.
Louis could not shake the feeling of betrayal as they rode quietly once again to the after party.
***
The after party was definitely not Louis scene. As soon as they got there, Armand led them to a group of people Louis recognized from his work. He did not like them one bit. The loud music was pounding on his head as he took another sip from the cocktail he had been offered as soon as he walked in. It looked like blood.
He did not want to admit it, but he felt hurt. No longer was he in a trance like state after watching Lestat perform. All he could think of was the two of them in Paris, together. Did Armand know what it felt like to hold Lestat’s hand? He did not want to be here anymore. And he did not want to see Lestat.
Looking around the unfamiliar space, Louis started mentally judging the decoration to distract himself. Weirdly classic, and baroque. There was a strange mix of extremely modern and expensive electronics thrown around, clashing with the dramatic styles of the wallpaper. He did not know where they where, but it was probably some big shot from the label throwing the party for the new act, and the setting was not to Louis’ taste. That was when he saw it.
A painting.
The painting.
The painting Lestat had bought from the Playfair months ago. It created a strange contrast, the modernity and colors of the piece with the classic and romantic style on its background. They were in Lestat’s apartment, he realized with a jolt. He made his way to the painting, through the number of people loitering around, thrown on the blue couches that in Loui’s opinion clashed with the Persian rug.
Louis loved this painting.
Its colors were evocative, abstract expressionism was not some people’s favorite, but Louis always felt drawn to the strong emotions the pairings possessed. How it was almost like a dialogue between him and the artist, asking him what these colors meant for him.
Lestat had loved this explanation when Louis had told him a lifetime ago. He stood in front of the painting for about 20 minutes, listening to music on his earphones before he quietly told Louis he would take it.
“Enjoyed the show?” he felt him whisper on his ear. Lestat. The proximity made Louis exhale a shaky breath. He did not know want to see Lestat right now.
“It doesn’t match your wallpaper,” was his only answer.
He felt Lestat shift, standing beside him and looking at him. Louis forced himself to keep staring at the painting.
“What did you think of my music?”
“The rug is also ugly.”
“You’re angry with me.”
Louis said nothing.
“Louis, please-“
“You know, I really don’t care how many people you have fucked, but it would have been nice to know that one of them had been my husband.”
“WHAT?” Lestat asked loudly.
Louis felt people around them stare at them because of the outburst and knew he had to do something. He could not have this conversation here. Not with the man of the hour and known drama queen.
“Lestat, let’s not talk about this here right now, okay? You asked me why I’m angry. I told you why I’m angry,” Louis said trying to sound calm, collected and rational. Lestat was looking at him like he was crazy.
“Louis I never-“
“Let’s talk about this later, I have to go to my husband.”
“Louis!”
He walked briskly back to where Armand was still standing in the kitchen with the rest of his boring, creepy friends.
He could feel Lestat’s eyes on him for the rest of the night, but he refused to leave Armand’s side. He forced himself not to look at Lestat, but he could hear him, and he could hear the people’s reactions to him. He was the life of the party, yelling and singing, and people were enchanted by him. The group of people that Louis was with started leaving the party, one by one, leaving only Louis, Armand and Santiago. Louis hated Santiago, he hated that he always had people that looked like they could be his children hanging by his side. Armand seemed to keep Santiago always by his side, which infuriated Louis to no end.
After a particularly obnoxious comment from Santiago making fun of Louis’ accent he decided to excuse himself and go to the restroom.
“You look bored out of your mind,” A woman said waiting in line behind him.
“This isn’t really my scene,” Louis said turning around and feeling struck. The woman looked like Lestat. Or rather, he supposed Lestat looked like her. She must be Lestat’s elusive mother he guessed.
“Mine either, Lestat has always had a flare for the dramatics that I don’t really share,” she spoke with a strange accent, one that Louis has only heard I people that spend their times abroad. An amalgamation of intonations that showed that English was not her first language, but that she definitely spoke more that two other languages.
“You came to see Lestat, he didn’t say you were coming.”
“Are you Louis?”
This gave Louis some pause. How did she know about him? Had Lestat told her about him? Louis suddenly felt slightly jittery with the realization.
“Yes, I’m a friend of Lestat.”
She only smirked at Louis for a response.
“How long are you going to be in town?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow, he begged to come here and I was already on my way to Maine for a retreat, so might as well,” She said casually. Louis could not imagine what it must have been like for Lestat to ask for his mother to be here. He must have been so nervous.
The couple that had been doing questionable things in the restroom finally got out, shamelessly walking by Louis and Lestat’s mother to rejoin the party.
“All yours she said,” as she urged Louis to go inside after the couple. Louis could not think of anything worse.
“I think I’ll pass,” Louis said stepping slightly away to let her through.
She just shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“Follow me,” she said, walking away from Louis, into one of the hallways that would lead them away from the party.
The room they entered was quiet. The noise from the drunk or high people and the loud music sounding distant. Lestat’s mother sat on the bed and pointed to a door behind him.
“You can go.”
Louis quickly realized what she meant and entered the bathroom. Louis didn’t really feel like going but he still stayed inside to keep up appearances. Was this the room she was staying in? It seemed to lived in for a guest bathroom, with millions of shampoo and conditioner bottles in the tub. It wasn’t until Louis noticed there was a speaker that he was in Lestat’s bathroom. Only Lestat would have a speaker, an expensive one at that, in the bathroom so close to the tub. Louis could almost picture him there, his hair wet and glistening, the air smelling like one of the numerous bottles that he had next to the tub. The candles lit. What kind of music did Lestat listen to in the bath?
He looked at himself in the mirror of Lestat’s bathroom and noticed he was flushed. He must be drunker than he realized. He washed his hands slowly, noticing the bits and pieces of Lestat’s daily life decorating the massive marble countertop. Hair elastics, bobby pins, and a brush with a few strands of golden hair. His eyeliner and his mascara. His toothbrush and expensive French toothpaste. Louis was suddenly overcome with a feeling of too much intimacy. He should not be here, invading Lestat’s space.
Once he got out of the bathroom, Lestat’s mother was waiting for him sitting on the bed. Lestat’s bed. Louis really should not be here.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. de Lioncourt but I think I must go, my husband-“
“Call me Gabrielle,” She interrupted.
“Gabrielle,” Louis said, testing it out. The southern boy in him felt strange calling this woman by her first name, “As I was saying my husband must be looking for me and-“
“They are going to a club.”
“I- what? Who?” Louis asked confused. She spoke in annoyingly short sentences, in direct contrast with her son, who had a penchant for saying whatever was going on in his head.
“Everyone, I just heard them. Your husband is also going,” Gabrielle answered casually, raising one perfect eyebrow, as if assessing Louis reaction.
“He would not go to a club. That doesn’t sound like Armand,” Louis felt at a loss, this whole night was strange. Armand was acting strange, Gabrielle was strange. He knew he was acting crazy.
“Go ask him then, I’m going to bed. I have to leave early,” She said standing up. Her movements reminded Louis of a lioness, every movement deliberate and powerful. He could see her influence in her youngest son. “It was a pleasure to meet you Louis, Lestat told me a lot about you.” She told him already walking away.
Louis stood alone in the bedroom. The bed was neatly made, which was something Louis would not have expected, but al around the room he could see Lestat. The tiny music box on the vanity. Empty picture frames set on the nightstands. Bookshelves packed with records and a record player. A purple sleeping mask casually thrown on the right nightstand. Fitting, I sleep on the left, Louis thought. He suddenly stoped. He should not be here.
Armand was going to a club.
He had to go to a club. With Armand. He had to get out of Lestat’s room and find him.
He caught them just as they were grabbing their coats.
“Armand!” He called out to him, was he really going to leave without him? “Are you leaving? What’s going on?”
“After after party, beloved. I have to go, a potential investor is going and I want to speak to him in a more relaxed setting, this would be perfect, I grabbed your coat for you.” He answered, handing Louis his coat for him. Santiago was making poorly disguised signals urging them to go.
“I don’t feel like going, I think I’ll just go home,” He said looking around at all of the people. It seemed like everyone was either going to this place or at least somewhere else.
“Suit yourself, do you want Rashid to take you?” Armand asked as they made their way to the door.
“No, I’ll take a cab don’t worry, have fun,” Louis said absentmindedly. He just wanted this night to end.
With a quick kiss goodbye, Armand followed Santiago down the hallway on their way to the elevator and Louis was left alone on the doorstep.
“So is now a good time to talk?” He hard Lestat say behind him.
Louis turned around to look at him and closed the door.
Lestat looked like a mess. His eyeliner was smudged and the glitter that had been applied to his cheeks was now everywhere, even making his sharp collarbones sparkle. His hair looked like too many hands had run their hands through it, and Louis didn’t know how to feel about it.
He made his way to the kitchen, where he found half empty bottles of everything and poured himself a glass of wine. Lestat had followed him silently and stood opposite him of the kitchen island. Waiting.
“You dated Armand in Paris. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked looking directly at him.
“I never told you because it never happened. I would never sleep with Armand,” Lestat answered, matching Louis intensity.
“He said you did.”
“He’s a liar, what do you want me to say?” Lestat got closer to him, with that catlike grace he possessed that made Louis feel like he was being hunted, “I would never lie to you, Louis.”
Somehow, Louis knew he was telling the truth.
“What happened in Paris? tell me the truth. No more half lies or lies by omission. I want to know.”
Lestat looked at Louis as if considering his options. Lestat never enjoyed talking about his past, so every morsel Louis got felt like something precious. He knew Lestat logically didn’t have to tell him. He could keep his secrets, and his past. He hoped Lestat told him. Some part of him craving to be Lestat’s secret keeper, just as he was his.
The blond grabbed a bottle of wine and walked out of the kitchen without uttering a word, leaving Louis feeling dumb.
“Are you coming?” He heard Lestat called out to him.
They sat on the couch surrounded by the numerous glasses and bottles. Overflowing ashtrays and stale beer. Lestat looked lost in thought, and Louis felt like he was finally seeing him. Broken, tired, glowing Lestat, with his runny eyeliner and glitter sparkling all over his face and neck. It was hard to reconcile this image with the God he had seen on earlier tonight.
“Lestat?” He asked softly. He somehow wasn’t mad at him anymore, now that they were not in a crowd and it was just them.
“Armand is a possessive person, surely you know this,” was all he said for an answer before he took a swig off the wine bottle. It was a red that looked expensive, maybe one of the executives brought it, “we met at a party, I was there with Nicki, I told you about him before, and Armand was just always there.”
Louis stayed silent, looking at Lestat who seemed like he was miles away, probably back in Paris with Nicki, and seemingly Armand.
“He started hanging out with us,” He continued, “with my friends from the theatre. He even joined the company.”
“He was an actor?” Louis couldn’t help asking.
Lestat snorted and finally looked at Louis.
“Non, directeur artistique or something like that.”
“Oh, yeah that makes sense.” It still didn’t but Louis didn’t give a fuck about Armand’s artistic proclivities of the past.
“So I saw him everywhere. We started hangin out, I guess we sort of became friends,” Lestat continued with his story, leaning back agains the sofa and briefly closing his eyes, as if exhausted, “The problem was Nicki didn’t like him, and he hated Nicki as well. They were always bickering, it was really annoying.”
He turned to look at Louis then, and remained quiet, as if assessing what to say next. Louis couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He wishes he had a camera to take his picture. A fallen angel surrounded by the remains of a party, with the dim light of the lamp by his side making his messy hair glow.
“So why does he say you two dated?”
“We were close, but I never dated him. He tried to break Nicki and I up. All the time. I ended up leaving the theatre group because of it,” Lestat answered, making a show of picking at his nails, as if trying to look casual. Louis by now knew him better than that.
“So what happened then?”
“Nicki and I, we- we were okay for a while. I left the company, Armand was seeing someone new to fill his time,. Everything was great.”
“And then?”
“Armand and his fling broke up, so he just went back to the way he was, Nicki was pissed about it, I got tired of it, went to see my mother for the summer to get out of Paris. That’s when I found out about Nicki.”
Louis knew this part of the story. Lestat had told him this one time while wandering around the city. Nicki had killed himself that summer, when Lestat had been visiting his mother in Morocco. Armand was the one that called him to let him know. He did it in the theatre, and the janitor had found him the next morning. Louis knew that Lestat felt guilty over Nicki’s death, the same way he felt guilt over Paul’s. Two ghosts always haunting their conversations across the city.
“I still don’t understand. Why would he tell me you dated?”
Lestat gave him a half smile and took another swig off the almost empty bottle.
“Did you enjoy the show tonight?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You still haven’t said anything, did you like my music?”
“Lestat I-“ Louis didn’t know what to say to the sudden change on topic. What could he tell him? That he felt so in awe he couldn’t breathe? Or that he felt such a confusing feeling at seeing how people were looking at Lestat on the stage?
“You hated it.”
“No, no I-“
“I should have known, you probably prefer jazz or-“
“Lestat I loved it, you were incredible up there-“
“Don’t lie to me, Louis it’s alright, I know that you like something classier or-“
“Lestat stop, I’m not lying I genuinely loved it, you were incredible tonight. Really.”
Lestat stoped fidgeting with his hair and looked straight at Louis with a sad smile. This was not the reaction Louis was expecting.
“You were amazing, trust me I’ll start listening to your music from now on, and I didn’t know you played the piano-“
“I know why he told you, Louis.”
Louis went quiet trying to figure out what to say next. Lestat looked defeated, which was the opposite of what Louis had expected from the usually over confident man who thrived on praise. He drank the last of the wine on his long forgotten glass and set it on the floor next to him, feeling that whatever come out of his mouth next would change whatever this is.
“Why?” He murmured, still looking at Lestat who was busy looking at his hands holding the empty bottle of wine.
When Lestat finally looked up, Louis noticed his eyes were wet with unshed tears. He was always a crier, Lestat.
“Louis, he said that because he wanted you to get mad at me.”
Louis could do nothing but just look at him. He looked so small at this moment, the tears now falling down his face and taking the smeared eyeliner with them, creating dark streaks across his cheeks.
“He- I think he was just being cruel,” Lestat continued, “I fought with him, before the concert, it was stupid but he was angry and you know how he is.” He said smiling sardonically.
“I- putain, I like you, Louis,” he said in a very small voice, not looking up a him, “I think- No, I know- He knows and that’s why he did it. He wanted to hurt me. And he knew you would get angry.”
“So he doesn’t want us to be friends?”
“Have we ever been just friends, Louis?”
Louis didn’t know what to answer.
Lestat was everything.
The first thing he thought about when he woke up. When he saw an animal on the street or the park, the person he wanted to call if someone was rude at work, or if something funny happened. The person who understood him most about his family. About his life, how he felt about art, life. Lestat was his best friend.
But Louis knew what he also felt about Lestat.
The complicated feeling he got when people saw him on the street, or in the concert. Louis was not a child, he knew what jealousy felt like. He also knew how he felt every time he saw him and he felt like his heart skipped a beat. How whenever he made Lestat laughed he felt like he was flying.
He had spent all of this time complaining about Armand being a liar, when all of this months, Louis had become one himself.
After all, if Lestat and him were only friends, why did he always feel the need to say he was out with Lily?
Louis did know the answer.
Without a second thought, Louis moved closer to Lestat and wrapped his hands around Lestat’s face, pulling him closer and closer, until their noses were touching.
He could feel Lestat breath mingling with his own, his own heartbeat beating on his temples.
Before he could change his mind, he kissed Lestat and let the fire that had been building up inside of him these past few months finally consume him.
He was kissing Lestat, and Lestat was kissing him back.
Lestat tasted like cigarettes, and wine. He tasted like cold air and movie popcorn. Apple pie and coffee.
Kissing Lestat felt all consuming, like kissing a star.
Louis knew him and Lestat were friends. Louis also knew him and Lestat would never be able to be friends again. Not when kissing him felt like waking up from a dream he didn’t even know he was having.
He finally knew what it felt like to kiss Lestat, and he was not about to give that up.