Meeting Day Salvatore (2)

August's heart was pounding as he stood on stage, the spotlight glaring down on him like an interrogation lamp. The heat from the lights made him feel even more exposed than he already was.

His mouth went dry, and he could feel a bead of sweat rolling down the back of his neck as he tried to swallow. How the hell did he get here?

"Name?" The question echoed through the speakers, making it sound even more daunting.

"Um, uh..." August stammered, his mind racing.

He definitely didn't want to say 'August Farley'. The name was a weight, a shadow that followed him everywhere. Maybe he could say... 'Reed', like his son. Yeah, Reed. That sounded right.

But before he could get the word out, one of the judges sitting at the far end of the table shifted in his seat.

The man was covered almost entirely—beanie pulled low over his forehead, large glasses that obscured half his face, a nose mask, and long sleeves that hid every inch of skin.

Even the way he sat was deliberate, like he was trying to disappear into the fabric of his clothes.

Then, slowly, the man lowered his mask, revealing smooth, unblemished skin and full, small pink lips. The contrast was startling, almost surreal in the midst of the crowded, worn-down auditorium.

His lips curled into a smile, and he said one word, "Papi."

The word hung in the air like a note from a long-forgotten song, striking a chord deep within August. His eyes widened in recognition. That voice... he knew that voice. He knew that word.

His breath caught in his throat as the realization hit him like a freight train.

"Day?" August whispered, his voice barely audible. He could hardly believe what he was seeing.

The man, now smiling fully, peeled off his glasses and then the beanie, revealing a head of plush, pink hair that caught the light in a soft halo. His eyes sparkled with mischief and warmth as he looked up at August.

"Papi!" the man—Day—exclaimed, his voice rich and familiar. He stood up, his full presence commanding the room as he grinned up at August like he was seeing an old friend after years apart.

August felt his knees go weak, his mind racing back to the photo shoot where he'd first met this vibrant, unforgettable character.

Day, the one who'd handed him hot tea through his just-a-week secretary, the one who grinned so lovably at him, offering him a sanitary pad as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

What the hell was he doing in a place like this?

Before August could process what was happening, Day hopped off the judge's platform and sauntered toward the stage. His movements were fluid, confident, as if the whole world were his runway.

Day stopped just short of the stage and looked up at August with those familiar eyes, now brimming with unspoken words. "Papi!" he called out again, spreading his arms wide.

August, still frozen, stared down at him, his mouth slightly open in shock. 'This is really happening,' he thought, the world around him slowing to a crawl.

Day didn't wait. He stepped up onto the stage, closing the distance between them in an instant. Without a word, he pulled August into a hug—a tight, warm embrace that took August completely by surprise.

At first, August stiffened, caught off guard by the sudden contact. But as the seconds ticked by, he felt something inside him crack, then crumble.

The walls he'd built up, the weight he'd been carrying, it all seemed to melt away in that moment. He could feel his own breath hitch as emotions welled up within him.

'God, I needed this,' he realized, feeling the sting of tears behind his eyes. He wanted to let go, to lose himself in that hug, to just cry it all out—everything he'd been holding in.

But before he could, Day broke the hug, stepping back with that same bright smile. August almost swayed forward, his body instinctively wanting to chase the comfort Day had just offered, but he caught himself.

"Mr. Salvatore! Mr. Salvatore!" The other judges were calling out, their voices tinged with panic as they realized who was in their midst.

The murmur in the room grew louder, people in the back beginning to lean forward, phones raised as they tried to get a glimpse of the famous pop idol.

The moment the name 'Salvatore' was spoken, a ripple of shock and excitement spread through the audience. "Is that really Day Salvatore?" someone whispered. "No way, he's here?"

Cameras flashed, and people started to crowd the stage, the whispers turning into a buzzing hum. The air was electric with the realization.

'Day Salvatore' was a name that resonated deeply—one of the top idols, with his own show, his own brand, everything. People knew him, loved him, and here he was, in this small, run-down venue, disguised among the hopefuls.

August's mind reeled. 'Dei Salvatore?' Of course, now that he thought about it, he did seem familiar, like someone August had glanced at on TV a few times, but never really paid much attention to.

But here he was, standing right in front of him.

Day, unfazed by the growing attention, turned back to August and grinned. "What are you doing here, Papi?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

August opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

He was still trying to process everything when Day grabbed his hand, the grip firm and reassuring.

"Let's get out of here," Day said, tugging August off the stage with him.

The crowd gasped as they moved, cameras clicking furiously, and voices calling out for 'Mr. Salvatore'.

August stumbled after Day, his mind in a fog as they weaved through the back of the stage, past the creaky floorboards and dimly lit corridors.

They finally reached a side exit where a black van was waiting. Day pushed the door open, and they both climbed in. The door slid shut with a satisfying *thunk*, muffling the noise from outside.

As the van started moving, Day burst out laughing, the sound rich and full of life.

August, still dazed, turned to look at him. "Day Salvatore... really?" he finally managed to say, disbelief clear in his voice.

Day grinned at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Really," he replied, his tone playful. "What about you, Papi? What's the man from Vogue doing, auditioning in a place like that?"

August sighed, rubbing his face with both hands. "Long story," he muttered, feeling the weight of everything slowly starting to settle on his shoulders again.