As the final notes of the guitar solo fade, Leo pulls over under a neon sign.

"Mama," he says, his heart racing. "The song... that's where I've been going. That's who I am."

He’s spent weeks trying to find the words to tell her he’s gay, but every time he starts, the air leaves his lungs. Today, he’s given up on words. He’s going to use the rhythm.

“When you're growing up in a sleepy town, and the ins and outs of it have got you down...”

"Mama," he says, clicking a button on the stereo. "We’re going out."

"Well," she says with a wink. "You heard the man, Leo. You’d better take your mama out all night."

Mary looks at her son, then at the vibrant, chaotic street ahead of them. She reaches over and turns the volume knob back up as the track loops.

The honky-tonk piano of "Take Your Mama" explodes into the room. It’s a sound that shouldn't make sense—Elton John’s showmanship colliding with a New York dance floor—but as the beat kicks in, Mary’s foot starts tapping of its own accord.