“You didn’t ruin anything,” Wyatt adds, but I shush him.

“Actually,” I tell my brother, “there is something you can do.”

“Anything!”

“I want you to give Wyatt an audition for your label.”

Michael doesn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely!”

This may be a decision that he comes to regret in the morning, and maybe I should have him sign some contract with his blood or something. But I’ve got a verbal contract and a witness, so that’s enough.

Plus, he seems sincere when he says, “You’re amazing, Wyatt. Your voice, it’s unlike anything I’ve heard before.”

Wyatt’s ears and cheeks go beet red. “Oh, um … thanks.”

I’ve never seen him nervous like this before.

It’s cute.

“We’ll talk after the wedding.” Michael pauses. “No, wait! I’ve got the perfect idea!”

The elevator door dings and opens to our floor. Wyatt helps me guide Michael out, each of his arms thrown around our shoulders.

“I made the mistake of getting one of my rising stars to be our wedding singer, but now she’s going to be the US opener for the Boys Noise tour. We’ve still got the DJ, but Ashley wants live music for the first dance. You’ve got your guitar, right?”

“Yeah.” Wyatt grunts.

“Good, you’re hired.”

“Wait!” Wyatt almost lets Michael slip out of his arms. “You’re just going to hire me, just like that?”

“I’ve seen what you can do, my dude. I’ll even pay you!”

“He’ll take it,” I answer for Wyatt. There’s no way I’m letting an opportunity like this slip away.

“I don’t know, I—”

“Nonsense, nonsense. You’re hired. Pick a good song for the first dance. I want it to be a surprise.”

“Shouldn’t you run it by your fiancée?” Wyatt asks.

“Nah, she trusts me,” Michael says. “You know, marriage is a two-way street. Gay people had it right when they called each other partners—you’ve gotta be partners, you know. You’ve got to trust each other.”

Wyatt and I both look at each other, this strange look of exasperated joy on both our faces.

“You two have got that—I can tell. You’re good partners. I mean, look at you now!”

“Yeah, thanks, Michael,” I say.

“I’m serious.” We lean Michael up, and he slides against the door, turning to Wyatt. “Neil is a good guy. Treat him right, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good, or else I’d have to fight you.”

I’ve never seen Michael like this before, but if he behaved this way sober, there’s a chance we might’ve gotten along better. Though I suppose there’s that saying: Drunk words are sober thoughts. I don’t know, maybe there’s more to Michael than I’ve thought.

Michael manages to get back into his room, and we say our good nights.

When the door is closed, Wyatt and I are both standing there in the hallway, and Wyatt turns to me.

“You did it,” he says.

Me?

“You did it,” I tell him.