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Sunday morning, Mama Sharon knocked on my bedroom door. I was a bit hungover, definitely hadn’t had enough sleep and was a bit annoyed at being disturbed.

“Hey Superstar, you’ve got a phone call.” Sharon had taken to calling me that since the auditions. In fact, the night that I got the phone call telling me that I had been chosen, Sharon had fashioned a giant aluminum foil star to affix to my door, and put streamers in the hallway. She was fun like that.

I stumbled down the hall way in to the living room to pick up the phone. Mama Sharon had muted the television and sat across the room making wild gestures and laughing silently at the state of my hair.

“Hello?”

“Paul, it’s Matt.” Uh oh.

“Yeah?”

“You have no right to fuck this up for anyone. You can not be gay. You can not let anyone think you are gay. You can’t be seen in gay bars. You can not be seen with a boyfriend, or even being around anyone who is obviously gay. You will ruin everything. I have waited too long and worked too hard to let some queen destroy everything.”

He hung up on me.

I’m going to let you all in on a little secret about my personality. It usually takes a lot to set me off. I can take a lot of bullshit for a long time, and while I won’t say that I keep completely quiet about it, I don’t lose my cool often. However, there are two things that will send me into instant orbit.

1. Walking away from me during an argument.
2. Hanging up on me.

I guess it has something to do with the idea that it’s no longer a discussion when someone walks away or hangs up. It’s someone screaming at me and not allowing me the courtesy of screaming back.

When I set the phone down I hit Mach Three. And it took only a moment’s explanation before I had Mama Sharon adding rocket fuel. I’m sure we made quite a pair stomping around the room and yelling things like, “How dare he!?” and “What right does that self-righteous asshole have to say such things?”

Mama asked me, “What do you know about him?” I tried to tick off the checklist of ‘facts’ that I knew. His father is a minister outside Chicago. He tries to keep his distance from the rest of us. I didn’t know where he lived, he never talked about his personal life.

Mama said, “So, here’s a thought… how does he know anything about the Connection?”

It suddenly clicked.

“Oh my god, that’s it! Matt is gay. He’s GAY. No wonder he’s so freaked out. He can’t stand that kind of attention anywhere near him.”*

I called Matt back.

“Now you’re going to listen to me. You had your chance to say what you wanted, now it’s my turn. I will go anywhere I want, with anyone I want, anytime that I want. If I want to throw on eyeliner and shadow, tease my hair and strut around town in a leather harness, I will.** There’s nothing you, Delious, or anyone else can say about it. I have spent the last 21 years pretending to be someone I’m not, and I’m ready to be me, and no scared preacher’s kid who can’t accept his own homosexuality is going to stop me. So you can either shut the fuck and get over it, or you can call Delious, out me and convince him that I shouldn’t be in this band and we’ll both get over it.”

Matt interrupted me at this point. He may have been crying. “I don’t want that to happen. You and I are the only guys who have the voices to make this project have a chance at working. But I still think we should be careful to not get labeled as fags.”

It was at that moment that Matt and I became friends. It was at that moment that we became a team.

* I’ve given Matt plenty of time to object to my writing about this. He never responded, and while I don’t wish to intentionally out anyone ever, I find it morally reprehensible in fact, I know that Matt isn’t exactly closeted. His family knows (a story that I’ll tell later) and anyone who knows him personally is clued in. What I do know is that Matt is again pursuing a record contract and I don’t want to cause him any trouble. However, the fact that Matt is gay is materially important to the rest of this story and those that follow. You can now maybe understand the pickle I was in.

** Ok.. it was just that one time, you don’t have to keep bringing it up!