A House Is Not a Home by James Earl Hardy

though he is neither gay nor lesbian).
    Montee wasn’t stupid, though; he knew his fourteen minutes of fame would fade quick. He was an aberration, and as soon as the rumormongers and gossip hounds found a new topic to milk, he’d be old news and all but forgotten. So he took advantage of his notoriety by dabbling in a lot of everything: writing, producing, and arranging for other “neosoul” artists, such as D’Angelo, Musiq, Maxwell, and Angie Stone; being a guest vocalist on CDs by Roy Hargrove and Kirk Whalum; showing up as a guest V-jay on VH-1; doing jingles for Crest, JCPenney, Mitsubishi, and Carnival Cruise Lines; performing for four months in a road company called Soul Revue , impersonating his idol, Sam Cooke; portraying a (what else?) bisexual college student on an episode of Moesha ; and appearing in a Gap ad like his heroine, Me’shell NdegéOcello.
    Most of his public appearances over the past few years as a singer have been split between gay and straight audiences who love his music and don’t hold his being bisexual against him. (His Mother’s Day and “Fellaz Only” Valentine’s Day concerts are always sold out.) And in addition to playing for both groups, he’s played to them: in late 2000, he released two versions of his sophomore CD, On the Menu —one for men, the other for women (a remake of DeBarge’s “Who’s Holding Donna Now?” was a top twenty pop and R&B hit; its B side was “Who’s Holding Donny Now?”). The combined sales brought him another platinum record, and the male version swept the OutMusic Awards. It also didn’t hurt that, around this time, Wendy and her ilk sought out his insight on down-low brothers. (He stopped the show on both BET’s Oh Drama! , when he informed co-hostess Kym Whitley, who couldn’t imagine “big, burly, butch men rolling around with each other,” that “I’m quite sure there are big, burly, butch men who can’t imagine rolling around with you ”; and the syndicated America’s Black Forum , where he told conservative commentator Armstrong Williams, “You profess to know a whole lot about gay men; sure you’re not one of them?”)
    Instead of just tapping him on the shoulder, Mitchell decided to be a groupie. “Excuse me, Mr. Simms, but could I please have your autograph?” he squealed.
    Montee turned around and a very, very wide grin formed across his face. “Mitchell,” he crooned, wrapping Mitchell up in his arms and hugging him so tight Mitchell had to gasp for air. He released Mitchell from the grip but not from his arms; they settled around Mitchell’s waist. “I can’t believe it.”
    â€œBelieve it.”
    â€œ Damn . I . . . I . . .”
    â€œYou never thought you’d see me again.”
    â€œNo, I didn’t. What are you doing here?”
    â€œI’m out with the crew.” He looked over to their table.
    Montee focused on them. “Oh, your friends. Babyface, B.D., and . . .”
    â€œHa, you better remember the other’s name. He believes he is un forgettable.”
    â€œUh . . . Gene?”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œMan, I just can’t believe this. But I have to. I’m holding you.”
    And he continued to hold him as they gazed.
    Montee took him in, hair to toe. “You look so good.”
    â€œSo do you.”
    â€œHow have you been?”
    â€œFine. And you?”
    â€œSame. Can’t complain. Your hair is fly .”
    â€œThank you. I’d say the same, but . . .”
    They laughed. Montee, who once sported an Afro, was now bald.
    â€œHow long have you been growing your locks?”
    â€œAbout three and a half years. How long have you been skinned?”
    â€œAbout a year now. I saw that gray hair comin’ in and decided to cut it off at the pass.”
    â€œI’m sure you’d look even