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gamerjellyfish2 · 2 years

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Close With Me (Stay)

“You don’t know jack shit about fashion, bro,” Clostri declared upon Apollo. “Says you, the one who wears socks with sandals outside home.” “It’s trendy, dude, you don’t get it.” “I am literally like an influencer, if anyone is chasing trends or making them, it’s me. And even if it’s like a stupid trend, like pretending to be disabled, that doesn’t mean it’s anymore stylish. If wearing rotten trash bags like became trendy, they will literally still be trash, you know?” The two continued to bicker. Kevin sighed and swayed his foot upon the polished mall floor. He looked around for anything that could distract him from the stupid argument. It was an argument that arose from him asking the two what store they should go to. The shouting between the two overwhelmed the air. Passerbys gave them an odd glare. One person caught his attention; A young man in a light sage green hoodie with an alice pack. He gave Kevin a wave before he disappeared into the spectating crowd. It wasn’t an enthusiastic fan. Only a stranger who gave a simple friendly gesture. He walked forward with no destination in mind and landed in front of a random store. IT’SUGAR in bright pink lettering. It was a candy store. The scents of artificial fruit flavors and gummies smothered the store. With the bright neon colors and oversized candy, it was like a whimsical dream. Kevin hoped they had some Asian candies. They reminded him of his time in Korea. He would munch on a variety of candies during his commute. Whether they were Haitai Grape Candy, the long Pepero biscuits or the mini pie Pumpkin Monacas. They were his meals during those days. Should I go buy candy? Kevin thought to himself. He and the other two had already bought a lot of clothes and other products. Initially, he walked out until he heard the two still arguing with each other. He retreated back to the glucose-inducing factory, picking out Hi-Chew. He thought back to the times he smuggled the Japanese candy to his dorm. It was like a spy movie since he wore a pair of shorts underneath his first layer of pants. He stuffed the banned goods in the short pockets, fooling the cameras as he went into the dorm during those winter nights. He played Muk-jji-ppa with the other trainees to figure out who was getting what flavor. He yearned for the mango flavors. He got them, maybe, twenty percent of the time. The sweet and tangy flavor kept him awake in the days he was overworked and over exhausted. He continued to pick around various candies: Some Hershey kisses for him, all-pink starbursts bags for the other two and a giant OREO pillow. He snickered as he squished and contorted the sugary and brand-worshiping plush. “KEVIN!” The other two yelled as he stood in line for check out. They approached Kevin. Clostri was especially judgemental of his purchases. He gave a cold glare to the OREO plush. “You don’t need that cookie pillow, bro.” “Well actually, I think it like looks cute,” Apollo responded. “I don’t care. End of the day, it’s just another useless buy.” “Stop having a stick up your ass. Like why do you care so much about it. It’s Kevin’s money after all, he’s not like uh buying a gun or something.” Apollo crossed his arms, knowing he “owned” Clostri in this little debacle. The two rolled their eyes at each other before they turned to face Kevin. Joy emanated from his smile and the grip he had on the pillow. He then pretended to take a large crunch out of it. It amused the two of them. Clostri muttered a “sorry” underneath his breath. After the checkout, the trio went to the Cheesecake Factory for their lunch. While waiting for their table, Clostri was the only one to notice a teen girl and her friend pointing at Kevin. She then took a paparazzi-esque creepshot of him. But he didn’t care to bother Kevin about it. He thought he was too used to it to care. He was jealous Kevin had an issue of people take unsolicited pictures of him. It meant he was famous enough to encounter that enough for it to be a problem. In their twenty minutes of waiting, they discussed what flavors of HiChew were objectively the best; Apollo and Kevin were on the side of mango while Clostri fought on behalf of dragon fruit. Once they got their table, Kevin settled on one side by himself. Though he had plenty of space, he restricted the space he took up. It was like he was being courteous to someone not present. “There’s so many things on the menu, how do they do this? It’s like if there’s twenty restaurants all pushed into one: a mega restaurant. It’s very American, I like it,” Kevin giggled. Clostri inspected the menu. He wondered which one had the smallest chance of an E. coli contamination. Apollo had already chosen his food, since he looked over the menu the night before. He despised having to order under the time pressure of the food arriving late to the table. With the power of the Internet, he was able to pre-plan all his orders. He did this for all levels in food service, from the McDonalds down the street to the three-michelin star restaurant that was an hour’s drive away. “Well you see Kev,” said Apollo. “They like have it all like pre-made already. You know like microwave meals, right?” Kevin nodded. “Yeah, they have that basically but like somewhat better, I guess? Like all of it is prepped and pre-made so it’s not like freshly made like in a uh fancy fine-dining restaurant.” “Aww.” Kevin expressed with disappointment like a child discovering that Santa wasn’t real. The optimistic magic had been soured. After they ordered their food, Apollo asked a question. “So what are the two of you doing when we get home tomorrow?” He took a sip from his Arnold Palmer. Kevin said, “Well I was pl–” “Do some coding, work on Youtube and maybe hookup on Grindr. The usual.” Clostri snickered. He didn’t see Kevin looking down at the floor. “And you, Palo?” Clostri asked. “Sleep, play Gmod, edit some videos and then sleep in until eight again.” He chuckled. Kevin raised his hand after he finished speaking. “When I get home, I just wanna lie around and watch some K-drama’s. Maybe another livestream with my fans. Speaking of them, I’m surprised I didn’t see anyone take a picture of me in this mall. Not to come off as arrogant, but I was thinking at least one would recognize me.” Clostri covered his smirk by drinking his strawberry lemonade with a flimsy paper straw. He knew he had the power to boost Kevin’s confidence but he chose not to. It would be too much effort to come from someone like him. Apollo spoke, “Well I’m sure someone like recognized you. Maybe they were like too nervous to come and take a selfie with you. But now you said that, no one in this mall has given me any sort of attention either. And I get recognized on like the daily basis. So if this mall doesn’t even know me, it’s full of shut-ins or something.” Clostri butted in. “Bro, this is Destiny USA. Literally the largest mall in the state, so I-” “Exactly, exactly,” interrupted Apollo. “And that’s like only making it more crazy . Like how can there be this many people and not one like even has heard about me? Y’know, that’s like so fucking weird.” Kevin kept his silence, as he covered his eyes with his hand. It was like seeing his old idol group, who were like brothers to him, fight. At least the two only fought verbally. Neither of them had physical prowess for a bloody fight. But it still hurt him. His heart dropped every time they got into silly arguments. “Well to be fair, dude, you literally only have a quarter of a million subs at most, maybe? Bro , I would say that’s internet famous but not like famous-famous.” “You don’t get it, y'know?” “I do get it, bro. I have about the same amount of subs like you. But I don’t go around expecting strangers to roll out a red carpet for me and have them beg on their knees to let them take a selfie with me or anything like that, dude. You are not as famous as you think” “Stop, period.” Kevin shouted quietly. “Clos and Palo, just stop. Please. We’re in a restaurant. If you two are gonna fight, do it in the hotel.” Kevin paused their argument with his deep voice. The two looked back at each other and covered their mouths. Apollo looked especially terrified, as his large eyes bugged out. Though he lost sensation in his legs from fright, he tried to speak out. “But Clos is just being like a fucking dick. He’s telling me I’m not famous and I have like the right to be mad, y’know cause li–” He stopped as Kevin shushed him. Clostri chuckled to himself. This time, he “owned”Apollo and humiliated him in front of Kevin. Tall cunt had it coming. He thought to himself. The trio remained silent when the waiter came with their food. They took pictures of their food with their different colored iPhones. Kevin took time to add emojis and translations in Korean and Mandarin in his Instagram Post. Granted, he wasn’t the best at food pics, as Apollo arguably was. It took five minutes for someone to break the tension. Apollo dropped his utensils on his napkins and spoke, “Group photo? Like to commemorate this trip and all.” He smiled, perhaps Kev would join him. But Kevin just stared. The longer he stared, the harder it was for Apollo to hold back his tears. That was until he gave him a thumbs up and readied himself into a pose. “To the three of us.” Apollo announced and the two repeated that phrase as he took a group selfie. He didn’t mind taking the photos. He was the designated photographer for having the longest arms. Kevin was in the middle of eating when they took the photo. It was clear he had a big chunk of food he had not yet chewed, making him look like an overstuffed squirrel. They became silent again, as they dug into their food. Apollo was especially focused on eating his Spicy Cashew Chicken, even when the spiciness overtook him and caused a parade of sniffles. Perhaps, he ate it to hide his crying from before.

After they finished their lunch, it was time for the big battle: Who would conquer the others to pay the bill. Apollo attacked first, snatching it. “As the bunso, I’m paying. Y’know like respect your elders?” “You got that all wrong.” Clostri stole the bill. “I’m the oldest so I have the responsibility of paying.” He smirked, as he faced Apollo. Kevin took it. “I’m paying, period. I was the one who got us to go here. So I basically have to do the bill.” The other two glared at each other before they complied.

They went back on the highway to their hotel. Of course, Clostri was the driver since it was his big and expensive luxury car. The other two flipped a coin to see who would ride shotgun. Apollo clutched it. “Don’t put your legs on the dashboard or I will literally crash this car,” Clostri warned Apollo. Kevin was responsible for all the bags and he placed them all in his aisle. He opened up Instagram Live, introduced himself and the others in the car. He then asked if they would say hello to the chat. Clostri was the only to respond, as he said “Hello bitchesss” and waved from the driver’s seat. Apollo, even when Kevin shook his shoulder, refused to interact, and covered his eyes. Apollo held his own phone closer to his face.

After Kevin started to speak to his chat , Apollo pulled out his airpods and put them on. He blasted some Taylor Swift songs, so that he wouldn’t hear Kevin. He sniffled. He sniffled again. “Are you okay, Palo? You can talk to me. I will listen,” said Kevin. He tapped his shoulder again. He stayed silent for a minute. All that left him was a squeaking whisper, “Not right now Kev. Later, we can talk.” He wiped a tear off as he slumped into his seat. Kevin nodded and returned to his chat. It discussed how cute and pretty Kevin was. Though this happened hundreds of times, he blushed on every occasion he was complemented. He repeated, “Oh my gosh, thank you, you’re so nice,” much to the annoyance of Clostri. He dodged any questions about the two others in the car. Their privacy was something that should not be invaded. He refused to be a starter for drama. It was effortless to fabricate or overblow any sort of drama. It was a waste of time and emotion. According to Kevin, the other two were “cool dudes that are kind and funny.” With all the localized drama happening around him, Clostri kept his eyes on the road yet he laughed inside. It was a pleasure to see Apollo cry. He didn’t have anything in particular against the eighteen year old. Schadenfreude to him was like sunlight to a plant: sustenance. It earned him the nickname “snake-tongue cherub” back in college. Though he had loved his frat brothers, which he views the two in the car similarly, he didn’t hesitate to torment them. The harsh words and tough demeanor made for a deadly combination to the ego. Destruction of another ego was his side hustle. After twenty minutes, Kevin ended his chat. He sang to himself and gently kicked the fireworks under the seat infront of him. “Stop fucking kicking it, Kev,” yelled Apollo. “Why not? It’s not like I’ll blow up the car if I hit the fireworks with my foot.” “Because it’s fucking annoying. And also, like you could basically destroy the fireworks. They won’t fucking work and will like just be a piece of flashy decoration.” Kevin stopped his kicking. “Alright sorry.” “Thanks,” Apollo sneered.

They arrived at their hotel parking lot. Kevin was the first to get out. He took some candies and the pillow. He was also the first to notice the man with the army backpack from earlier. He was either a solo backpacker or a homeless guy. He and the man glanced at each other before he headed into the hotel. Apollo passed by the man without any care. After all, the man was just like any other homeless person; They wandered the streets, relied on the empathy of others and lived in hateful architecture. Clostri saw the man and made eye contact. Then he sighed, pulling out a hundred dollar bill. He approached and gave him the bill. “I real appreciate your kindness and all, sir, but I don't need it.” The man refused the money with a southern accent. He pushed it away. Clostri looked more at the man, and he had to admit the man was sexy. What race is he? It had to be mixed since he was unable to guess it with confidence. It was an awkward question to ask a stranger but it wouldn’t kill him if he didn’t know. Yet, he still wondered what he was. “Bro, take it.” He demanded, pushing the bill to his face. “No. I just can’t. Sorry sir, just in my blood that’s all.” “In your blood? Are you Southern peeps opposed to being gifted shit or something?” The man giggled. “Well when you put it that way, I suppose you’re right, sir.” “Since we’re already speaking, tell me your name and story. Every person at least has one.” “Well my na–” Clostri interrupted. “Woah, that's a big bag.” He pointed at the army backpack. “You wanna sit down in the lobby and talk there?” “I’m game to talk but not there.” He shook his head. “They don't like us homeless. We’re like pests to them.” “Hmph,” Clostri groaned, swinging his keys around. “How about in my car?” The man hesitated. He looked down on his worn shoes and checked his cracked phone. “Sure.”

They went to the car. The man let out a sigh of relief as he dropped his backpack, creating a thud. “The names Amdla Risto. Folks call me Amdy for short. Became homeless and started traveling the country maybe around 4 years or so ago? Let me tell you how life quickly fell for me.” He chuckled. “First, my boyfriend broke up with me and haven’t seen him since he drove off.” Clostri gleamed at the mention of a boyfriend. They could be together. Too many times he had been fooled by a straight man. Makeup and a good fashion sense were no longer reliable gay-dar-detectors. Those things were reserved only for queer men, not straight guys who use it to get pussy quick. It was basically cultural appropriation. He looked more at Amdla’s face. Definitely a wasian. East Asian to be more specific. Either Korean or Japanese. “Second, Papa called me a failure of a son. Sayin I should’ve gone to college. You see, we moved to New York so that I could find a good school. He also said I had done nothing to please him as his son. I was never productive in my life according to him. All obsessed with useless coupons and going on car rides with my boyfriend. So he kicked me out of our own home and told me good luck since I didn’t know how to survive in the real world.” How tragic. All Clostri expected was the typical: Amdla became homeless because he came out as gay. Coupons and car rides? What did he do in his time if he didn’t go to college? A waste of space perhaps. The dad was definitely the Asian parent. The values of dishonor and education were dead giveaways. If he was right, it was no surprise that he was disowned. “Well, do you keep in contact with him or an–” “Nope. He’s dead to me. Never want to see or see him ever in my life. Not even in my funeral. Hell, I wouldn’t even go to his. Not even to spit on his casket.” “How about your mom or any siblings?” “Miss my Mama. She fought my Dad to keep me home. But she lost, as you can see. She gave me money when I was first starting out. But Dad, as usual, found out and forced her to stop it. I stalked my family’s facebook account and there’s no sign of me anywhere. Even my high school graduation pictures were gone. Dad must have taken a scorched hell strategy with me.” He shrugged. “I guess he rubbed off too much with my cross-dressing brother. He stopped talking to me too.`` “Oh. Fuck.” Clostri let out. He rubbed his thumb in his hand. Somehow his story got worse. It was wrong to blame Amdla now. His father wasn’t exactly striking anger out of nowhere; Amdla did nothing productive. At the same age Amdla was kicked out, Clostri worked his ass off every night. His retinas were burnt and his fingers trembled as they hovered over his keyboard. His parents screamed at him to not lean any closer to his screen. But it was all worth it. He secured a spot in his dream college due to his coding projects. But what Amdla’s father did was overblown. Too melodramatic for a father. He should not have been allowed to have kids. “How about you, sir?” “I’m Clostri and I’m a popular skincare influencer. Call me Clos if you want. It makes things much easier, bro. Oh and I’m an expert in computer programming. So add that one,” He bragged. “Amdla? Isn’t that a nice name. You want to stay with me and my buddies for a bit? We’re going home tomorrow. So think of this car like a bus but actually good and there’s less homeless p– uh I mean less disgusting.” Amdla hesitated to respond. He then nodded. “Wait, what about your friends?” “Oh don’t worry, they’ll accept you. They’re nice people. So there’s gonna be no issue.” “Alright. Thank you Clos. I real appreciate it.” They shook hands.

The two went up to their hotel room. For Amdla, it was like one of those winning-the-lottery fantasies. The amount of luxuries he saw in that one hotel room was more than he experienced in his entire life: The spotless bedding, the chandelier lights and the gorgeous expressionistic paintings. A golden shine painted the dignified room. Even the air felt rich, like it had higher quality oxygen in it. The atmosphere was chilled by the sleek aircon that rested above the tv. They walked in on Apollo and Kevin talking to each other on Apollo’s bed. The carpeted floor was littered with balls of tissue. Their eyes were red and airways were snotty. “So I didn’t mean to like piss you off.” Apollo placed a hand on his shoulder. “So I’m like feeling really bad about pissing you off like that.” Kevin nodded. “Like that’s why I was crying on the way here.” “It’s okay. We’re still friends. It’s all gonna be fine.” Kevin cheered up. He embraced Apollo with a hug and patted his back.

Amdla and Clostri looked away. The door behind them closed with a loud creak. Apollo jumped up on top the bed. He would have fallen off if it wasn’t for Kevin holding him. He shouted. “Clostri. Like what the fuck is it with you and like bringing random white guys here?” Amdla raised an eyebrow. “I’m half k–” Kevin chimed in. “Oh, Clos and Palo, it’s the guy I saw earlier when you two were fighting,” He waved to Amdla. “ Hey. Your backpack is cool, I like it. Where did you get it?” “Oh, thanks” Amdla smiled and waved back. “I actually g–” “Okay,” Clostri screamed. “Everyone shut the fuck up.” He gestured towards Amdla. “Dudes, this is Amdla. He’s gonna be with us for uh I don’t know how long but he’s gonna be with us. That’s right,” He grinned. “We’re a group of four now, my bros.” Apollo jolted with a raised hand. “Well you should’ve asked me and Kev about letting in some random homeless guy into this p-” “I think Amdla’s cool,” said Kevin. “No he fucking i–”

Clostri cleared his throat and pointed at the two. “The tall one is Apollo, we call him Palo, and the korean looking one is Kevin.” Amdla brightened up. The sourness from earlier left his face. “Wait, you’re Korean too?” “No sorry, I’m not but many people think I am.” He fixed his two block hair. “I don’t blame them. So don’t feel bad. Plastic surgery changes a lot more than you would think.” “Hold on, so what are you?” “I’m from Singapore but ethnically Chinese. How about you?.” “That’s cool. Your English is really good wow,” Kevin rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have guessed you’re Chinese. I’m half-German and half Korean.”

Apollo scratched his neck. He was wrong. But he wasn’t that off. He got the white part at least, so he got partial credit. He fell back on his bed, hiding himself with the delicate pillows. He groaned and said, “Fine. The new guy can join us.” Kevin and Amdla cheered and high-fived each other. “He was already part of the group before you said that. Didn’t need your approval.” Clostri smirked. “So I think we should all sit down together and introduce more of ourselves to Amdla,” Apollo groaned. “This isn’t fucking kindergarten, like holy shit.” “It ain't but you sure are acting like you dropped out of it.” Clostri pulled him from the bed, dragging him on the floor like a tired parent. The four formed a square on the floor, sitting on a pillow provided by Kevin. “What’s your socials?” asked Apollo. The clicking and finger tapping formed a calm ambiance. The boys looked over each other’s phones to copy what Amdla gave them. Apollo dove first into his instagram. Nothing significant. Some selfies, pictures of nature and the city and some instagram-activist-posts. His TikTok was more pathetic; Dozens of videos in his “My Life As a Homeless Twenty-Something-Year-Old.” series but none had over ten views. Amdla’s phone buzzed from the added notifications. “Wait, y’all got the checkmarks? Hold on, are y’all like famous or something?” Kevin grinned. “Well y–” Apollo interrupted. “What the fuck is it with people not recognizing me? I like understand if you didn’t recognize Kevin cause who would. Other than the kpop stans.” He sighed. “ And even like Clostri I can see not knowing cause he’s like so much less popular than me. And he’s like more niche in his own community.” “Palo, please.” Kevin sulked. “But like, I’ve got a ton of subs and like famous and you’re like telling me not one person in Syracuse hasn't ever heard of me? Like that’s fucking unbelievable.” “Maybe I ain’t the target audience or something, I dunno?” “I mean like that’s true but still. Like even if you’re not like subbed to me, someone you know has to know me.” Silence predominated. Amdla took a deep breath and said, “So. What y’all here for? Some vacation?” “Well actually yes.” Apollo cleared his throat. “It’s basically like a type of business trip. Where we like collaborate with each other and make content that our fanbases crave. And actually w–” “It’s literally just a glorified vacation and shopping trip. Nothing crazy, bro,” Clostri said. Apollo mumbled and turned to face away. “And it’s an excuse for Clos to sleep with other homos but y’all didn’t hear that from me.” Silence entered again. Clostri got up and went to the bathroom, leaving the door open. The faucet rumbled like a waterfall. Amdla soon followed, knocking on the door. “Oh uh, Clostri?” “What do you want?” “Uh I just wanna know what’s that sweet smelling stuff you’re rubbing on your face right now. The very foamy stuff.” “Just some skincare, bro.” Clostri splashed the wash off and dried his face. He faced Amdla, inspecting every pore and blemish buried in his skin. “Is there something wrong?” “Yes. Your skin” Clostri said before he started to whisper. “I thought Koreans were the best at skincare.” “I’ve been homeless for the past few years. I don’t exactly prioritize having clear skin when I don’t got a stable home.” Amdla frowned. Clostri reminded him of the shame his father forced upon him. Shame about unproductivity and wasting away. He stared at the mirror. Clostri pointed at different regions of his face and commented. “You’ve got plenty of acne scars, distinct eyebags, dark spots and other sorts of blemishes. But honestly bro, you look pretty hot for a homeless guy.” In reality, Amdla barely had facial blemishes. His skin was smooth and vibrant with only mild imperfections. To an average person, he looked better than average but Clostri refused to see this. Then, Clostri looked around his own skincare: the face masks, exfoliator and moisturizer. “I can’t make you un-homeless, but I can make your skin clear, dude. And I think that is way better. You want that?” Amdla paused, staring at the odd brand names in sleek fonts. It was like a makeover scene from the movies he watched on pirated sites. He was like Cinderella or the Ugly Duckling but a dude. “Yes please.” “I’m surprised,” said Clostri. “That you’ve been homeless for four years. I mean there’s an infinite amount of information available with a simple search. It’s the digital modern age, bro. At most, I could see someone being homeless reasonably for a year. After that, they’re just either lazy and or straight up stupid.” “Again, I don’t reckon being an Albert Einstein will get me a home. It’s not like you take an IQ test and win a free house cause you scored high or something. Life’s not like that.`` “Are you sure though? There’s a lot of videos free on the Internet on making money for free. And even some college courses too. But if you want my advice, learn either coding or stocks. They’re very accessible to the common man, like you. The best thing is that once you get a good handle on that, you can literally sense your bank account bulging out from your passive income.” “But I’m not good at either of those things.” “Don’t worry. Look,” Clostri touched his shoulder. “If you’re gonna stick with us as a group, you’re bound to learn something about the grind from us.”

The two spent the next couple hours discussing the very basics of skincare and how to set up a routine. To Amdla, it was like having an older sister teach him makeup. His connection was like an anchor to the world, making his view less muddy. Life appeared more reasonable, even if all they talked about was skincare. Out of all the people that took him up, Clostri was the most relevant one. After they were done, Amdla came out of the bathroom. “Hold on y’all. If y’all are leaving tomorrow, where am I gonna go?” “Not my problem, maybe you can find another group of people to stick with or something. I dunno.” said Apollo. He then took out his juul pod and used it, blowing the vapor into the ceiling. Amdla crossed his arms. “Don’t you know that’s bad for you?” “You’re not my mom, like shut up. And also, I don’t give a shit.” “Well if any of my parents saw me juuling, they would’ve beaten the heavens out of me.” “Don’t care,” groaned Apollo, flicking his pod. “You’ve been here for like only 3 hours already and you’re like really annoying.” “You’ve been a dick to me this whole time. So you’re extremely lucky I’m holding my tongue this entire time.” Apollo mocked him. “Oh no. What are you gonna do with that white stinky-ass tongue of yours? Eat my ass?” Clostri walked in with a hand covering a smirk. “Christ Apollo.” He crossed his arms. “You’ve been acting like a total bitch the whole day. Do you have something up your ass or something? Or maybe it’s just puberty messing with your hormones and shit.” Apollo hopped from the bed and approached Clostri, towering over him. “I am fucking eighteen. Don’t fucking talk to me about being immature and shit. You are like literally fighting someone seven years younger than you. You’re the immature one” He screamed. “Oh wow, bro? I’m the bad guy for fighting the little bratty bitch who started this shit?” “I didn’t fucking start this. You fucking know that. I never fucking start anything and somehow I get fucking blamed for it all the time.” Apollo’s tears dripped from his chin. “Because you’re the actual problem? You’re not the victim, bro.” ��I’m done. I’m fucking done. Fuck you and your stupid bowl cut and suck my cock,” Apollo dry-heaved and stomped to the bathroom, slamming the door.

Amdla’s mouth was open in shock. He clutched his wrist.``Oh my god, are y’all always this dysfunctional?” “Unfortunately, yes,” said Kevin. “Yeah but only cause Apollo is the dick of the group,” Clostri responded. “But sometimes you can get pretty mean too, Clos. Heck, even worse than Apollo.” “There’s a difference though, dude. Mine is warranted but Apollo just goes off when he’s slightly pissed off. I act mean for a good reason is what I’m trying to say.” “You whined at me earlier for getting the Oreo plushie.” “Well it w—” Apollo flung the door, leaving a dent on the pristine walls. His nose was dry and eyes were red as a sunburn. He shouted. “Oh my god, can you all shut the fuck up please. I’m hungry.” “Why don’t we get room service then? I think it will calm everyone down.” said Kevin. Amdla looked around. “So do I need to venmo y’all for the food then?” Clostri nodded. “No. I’ll handle the bill. Don’t worry about it.” Kevin smiled while Clostri scoffed and rolled his eyes. Apollo wiped off his tears before he inspected the gold room service menu. The others surrounded him, as they pointed at the food they wanted.

While they waited for the food’s arrival, Amdla rummaged through his bag and pulled out a packet of incense sticks. “By any chance, do any of y’all how to burn these? I tried to use my lighter but it just won’t work on this darn thing.” Clostri stared at the bundle of packaged sticks. “You need an incense burner for it to work, bro” “Incense sticks more like incest sticks,” Apollo mumbled. The others ignored his crude remark as room service knocked on the door. The silver platters were placed on the two desks.

Apollo cut his new york strip open and inspected a piece. “It’s raw, what the fuck. There’s pink in it. I should have said something about the heat.” “Palo, that’s medium rare. It’s the best one,” said Kevin. “It’s fucking raw. I might as well have gone to the butcher and ate it infront of them.” “It’s cooked. Look,” Kevin poked at the small dark part of the meat. “The outside may be fucking cooked but the inside sure ain’t,” Apollo pushed his meal away. He stabbed at the juicy pink part. “Yuck.” “How about we swap food? I get your delicious steak and you get salmon.” “Deal,” Apollo swapped their plates, digging into the fresh fish.

Kevin turned to face Amdla. “How is your meal going? You like it?” Amdla had buried his face into the lobster. Seasoned butter covered his mouth like lipstick. He smiled during each bite of the bright red steamed lobster. He took a napkin and wiped his mouth. “It’s really good. Haven’t had lobster in a long time. I real miss it. Also, this may be a weird question, but how do you say lobster in Korean?” “It’s badatgajae,” He repeated the pronunciation. “Why do you ask?” “Cause I wanna relearn some Korean. And what else is a better time when you have a kpop idol as a friend?” Kevin gave him a thumbs up and smiled, receiving a smile back. He started to teach him Korean vocabulary, primarily food. “Wow, you’re very good with pronunciation. You pronounce the tense and aspirated consonants better than me. It’s very natural. Were you born in Korea or something? ” “Nah, I’m American-born. I learned some Korean from my Mama. She was straight out of Korea. Taught me and my brother some of the language when we were young. But she stopped when we were around ten.” “Did she get tired or something?” “More scared than anything. Dad found out she was teaching us her foreign language and lectured at both of us. Something about him fighting for this country and we end up speaking a language other than United States American English.” Amdla’s voice held a slight unease. “How terrible.” Kevin frowned. “Hey but at least I’m relearning it now, right? She didn’t teach us to write though, said it’d be too hard for us to learn.” “Really?” “Yeah so that’s why I was confused when I learned later Korean was made to be easy to learn compared to Chinese or something.” “Well that’s sorta true. But for me, it was harder to learn Korean. But maybe it’s cause Mandarin was my first language.” Kevin took out a pen as he showed Amdla the proper strokes. He was confused on how there was a correct way to draw a letter that was literally a square. The lines were jagged and uneven in length.

Once it was ten pm, they all had taken themselves to bed and shut the lights. Around the middle of the night, Apollo woke up from nothing. He had his airpods on, as he looked around. He turned on his phone’s flashlight, set it to the lowest brightness, and observed the other bed. There was only Kevin on the other bed. Apollo smiled partially. Finally, the stupid southerner was gone. He thought. Yet, his heart dropped. What if the fucker took off with their belongings? Hell, he would probably sell them on Depop or something. At an inflated price since he could label them as celebrity luggage too. Perhaps their suitcases were gone or at least lighter than when they entered the hotel. Oh fuck, the laptop. It would only be a mere inconvenience if it was gone except for the fact that he didn’t upload the trip footage to his drive. That would be permanently gone alongside the laptop. He scanned the room with his flashlight. Everything important was there. But one thing was gone: the army-style backpack. Apollo pumped his fists, rejoicing in its absence. He giggled, covering his mouth, as he went to bed again. It would be a wonderful morning to tell the other two about the surprise departure. In the morning, Apollo was the first to wake up. He shook the half asleep Clostri, shaking the whole bed as well. “Clos wake up, I have like something real funny to tell you.” Clostri groaned and cocooned himself in his blanket. “Fucker left.” Apollo giggled again. “And like I feel ecstatic like I won a match. It’s like when the villain in a story di–” Apollo looked up at the other bed and rolled his eyes. “Goddammit,” He groaned, coming off louder than he wanted. “He’s still here.” He hopped off the bed, picked up clean clothes and went to shower. While in the bathroom, he noticed a singular incense stick on the counter. He spun it around and pretended it was a cigar. Why the fuck would he leave it here? He thought. Was Amdla stupid enough to think it worked like essential oil diffusers? After he finished getting ready, he placed the stick on top of Amdla’s backpack and sat on his own bed. The others remained asleep. He juuled, as the mango-flavored nicotine ran through his system. He juuled a second time, as no one awake would bitch at him. The air conditioner dissipated the addictive vapor. In less than twenty four hours, there was a probability he would never see Amdla again. No more having to put up with his holier-than-thou attitude. He looked out the window. The sun was like a buoy on a dark mauve ocean. It was like looking out his bedroom window in his bedroom at four am. Those were simpler times. No need to worry about schedules more complex than what game to play at what time. But school plagued him. It was a burden. In those six hours of boredom, he endured it with kids he pretended to like. Even on school days, he spent his night infront of his bright monitor. There was a comforting ease to those nights like a snow day. The aircon roared in the back in his voice calls. Colorful plastic cups littered his long wooden desk. He got a new one each time he went downstairs to get water. Those teamspeak calls lasted seven hours on average; five hours spent on harassing an internet stranger. The other two were for them to fuck around on Gmod. They flailed rag dolls and stitched vehicles together. It was better for the game back then too. There were more active players and it was the golden age of Gmod animations. Hell, it was also the prime of the internet, before all the feminists, normies and corporations sanitized it. Apollo worked on his video footage as the others woke up. Afterwards, they ordered breakfast room service. A set of four macarons complemented their overpriced food. The flavors were grape, strawberry, chocolate and lemon. All but Clostri took one. According to him, sugar this early in the day would cause a severe acne breakout. Apollo chomped on his grape macaron, enjoying the overtly-sweet French cookie. He wiped the purple crumbs off his black overalls. Meanwhile, Clostri and Kevin treated their macarons like it was a trade deal.

“Can I take a bite out of your pink macaron, Kev?” “Only if you let me eat yours” “Bet.” The two hovered their respective macarons into each other’s mouth. Their eyes glimmered together as they bit into the dessert. Kevin thought how much this moment reminded him of his days in his idol group. They were well known for hand-feeding each other. It was delightful. They snapped their cookies and sliced fruit into cubes. He would imitate a fighter jet as he teased the other’s by playing airplane with their food. They didn’t care how stupid or homoerotic they looked doing it. It was a distraction from overworking to exhaustion everyday. He liked to think that it made them a tough found family. He stared into Amdla’s eyes, noticing a slight tear. His smile grew as he wiped the tear drop off. It was a warm cry, an intimate one. Amdla hadn’t cried like this in a long time. His unblinking eyes were assured. After they finished their bite, they wiped the crumbs of each other’s lips with their pointy fingers. Kevin pretended to bite his finger, startling Amdla and making him laugh. The other two were already cackling, with Apollo being louder. “What the fuck was that?” Apollo yelled, as he tried to tone down his laughter. “You guys were like two steps away from like making out. But considering you two have like good chemistry together, I wouldn’t like say that you two would make a bad couple.” “I agree. Also.” Clostri pointed to the chocolate macaron. “There’s one left. Apollo you want it?” Apollo shook his head. “In that case. Kev, I dare you to eat it with Amdla. Lady and the Tramp style.” “What does that mean?” “You two eat the macaron at the same time. Close enough, actually, for you two to accidentally kiss each other.” He covered his laughter, as he and Apollo took out their phones to record. Amdla and Kevin picked up the macaron together. It looked like they were holding hands. The other two pushed their chairs closer. Kevin said, “Let’s count it down. Three. Two. o–” Before he finished the countdown, Amdla bit the macaron. Kevin panicked and scarfed down on his side of the pastry, tearing it off. Then he leaned in too quickly, bonking Amdla on his forehead. Kevin wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his chin on his shoulder. “Oh my God, I’m so so sorry. It’s my fault,” He rubbed the other’s back, like he was cuddling a brother. Amdla muttered. “It’s o–” Clostri interrupted them with his thunder of a laugh. “Oh my fucking God. Kev, you’re such an idiot. We still love you though.” He formed a heart with his hands. “I know, I know.” Kevin cackled. The other smirked. “Why did you lean in like that? Were you actually gonna kiss him?” His face grew slightly red. “No no. I did it cause I panicked from me and him not being in sync. It’s just out of habit.” “Alright.” Clostri then leaned to whisper into his ear. “But seriously, you two looked real cute together.” “Hmph,” said Kevin.

After they finished eating, they packed up and checked out. Apollo stayed behind for a bit, acting as the triple checker for anything they left. “Come back to the room its important,” He texted Clostri. Five minutes passed until Clostri arrived. “So,” He crossed his arms. “Why am I here?’ “I have a plan. It’s about how we’re gonna leave Amdla behind and he can bother none of us.” Clostri tilted his head. “I’m listening.” “So we stop at a gas station. Can be anywhere as long as it’s not like where I live. And then like you tell Amdla to get you something. He trusts us enough to not think weird of us otherwise. So while he’s like looking around to buy it, you step on the gas and we never see that fucker again.” “Hmm.” He looked at Apollo up and down. “I’ll consider it.” “Thanks dude.” Apollo gave him a fist bump before they got to the car and drove off. Kevin won the rock paper scissors against Amdla and sat shotgun. Apollo looked out the window and smiled at the bright empty sky, hoping it would be a good day.

As they were about to leave Syracuse, Amdla pointed at a sign advertising a zoo. “Uh can we make a lil detour, Clostri?” He asked. “Why?” asked Apollo. He was against anything that forced Amdla to be with them for any longer. “Oh uh. I remember walking by a zoo, and I thought to myself how fun it would be for the four of us if we went there.” “Fuck no, we’re like on a tight schedule. We can’t like waste time going to a stupid z–” Clostri interrupted him. “Sure.” Apollo slapped himself, leaving a hand mark on his face. Was Clostri gonna follow up on his plan or not? He thought. He couldn’t rely on him with his life but he was his only choice in kicking Amdla out. He had his own fantasy of being the driver and leaving Amdla out on the highway. But this was impossible; Clostri would not let anyone else drive his car. Clostri smirked through the car’s mirror, as if he was laughing directly at Apollo. He took pleasure in his misery at every second. He was a sadist, thought Apollo. He was incredibly hell bent on keeping Amdla with them. Apollo had a simple explanation: Clostri wanted to bang the homeless fucker. By keeping him in the group, they would grow closer, and so, it would be easier for them to fuck. Disgusting. They arrived at the zoo. Clostri fought other families to get their good parking spot. He got out of the car first and put on his specialized sunscreen. Kevin and Amdla followed, using the same sunscreen bottle. “What animals do y’all wanna go to first?”. “The birds. Oh especially the peacocks. They are so pretty.” said Kevin. Apollo remained in the car. Amdla tapped his window. “Are you coming, Apollo?” “You guys go on like without me. I really like don’t feel well.” “You sure? I can stay with you so you don’t feel left out. Never feels good to be lonely. Trust me.” Amdla chuckled. “Yeah I’m sure. Don’t like let me stop you from having fun at the zoo.” “We can always do a virtual t–” Clostri interrupted. “Alright, let’s go. We’ll buy you some food and plushies, Palo. Feel better, bro.” He held the other two’s hands and walked away from the car.

The trio strolled around the zoo. Amdla made them circle around all the exhibits two more times as they had not seen a certain animal yet: the crocodile. “Damn bro. Did a croc eat the family dog or something?” Clostri chuckled. “Nah. I just think crocs are cool. My dad fought them once.” “Woah like in the everglades or something?” “Nope. At a local zoo. You see. I dropped my toy over the enc–” Clostri spoke over. “You know, back in college. Crocodile was something I called people often. Not cause of alligator tears or anything like that. Actually, I used it to refer to guys and girls who just had the most atrocious looking skin.” Kevin sighed at him like it was the norm. “You get it right? Their crusty skin looks like the scales on an ancient reptile.” Amdla nodded. “But would I leave them alone? Hell no. Not doing anything about their skin is like animal abuse. I gave them an impromptu bootcamp on how to take care of their skin and I had to escort them to the drugstore, since they’re all poor, to show what products they should use and just straight up avoid.” “So like a guru?” asked Amdla. “Exactly. Amdy.” Clostri wrapped his arms around the two. “And you know why I adore being a guru so much? It’s not to boost my confidence or anything. No, my confidence is always at its peak. It’s cause I believe this world needs more beautiful people in it. And my guru abilities only make people sexier.” He ruffled their heads. Kevin was on his phone, investigating the animals that are present in the zoo. “Bad news, Amdla. No crocodiles here, not even alligators.” “Damn, okay.” The trio walked to the zoo’s cafe. Clostri walked up to the person at the counter and gave their group order. The remaining two relaxed on one of the tables. “Is Clostri always like that?” whispered Amdla. “What do you mean?” “I don’t have the perfect words to describe it but a bit arrogant? He cut me off while I was speaking and talked about how magical of a guru he is.” “Oh. Yeah. That’s normal. I think it’s his love language.” “Wait he’s gay and likes me?” “Yes.” “Well I d–” “No wait. Yes, he’s gay but he doesn’t like you like that. Love language means like he cares about you.” “I don’t get it.” “Uh. If he’s being a dick to you like that, it means he respects you as a friend.” “Does he get nicer?” “Yeah and I–” Kevin shut his mouth as Clostri returned with their food. He brought them some honeycomb cookies, a sandwich and two brownies. After they finished eating, they shopped at the gift store and returned to the car. Apollo was laying back down on the seats. He dropped his phone as the others knocked on the door. His eyes were red but no one said anything about it. “So how was it?” He asked, wiping his nose. “It was fun,” Kevin said. “Not the best zoo but we had a fun time.” “That’s good.” The others entered the car. Amdla gave him a spare honeycomb and a thumbs up. Apollo munched on his cookie as Kevin threw a flamingo plushie on his lap. They headed down on the route for home. They stood silent, even when traffic lasted for a half hour. This was a sign that they were “done.” Not with each other but the trip overall. Apollo kept awake during the entire ride. Every blue sign that indicated a gas station became a symbol of false hope. Without fail, they would simply pass by it. He kicked harder at the fireworks box underneath his seat the more gas stations they avoided.

An hour left into the trip, they finally pulled over into a gas station. “Hey Amdla, can you buy me and the group a couple of things? Like Hershey bars, Pringles and Twizzlers. Just text me the cost and I’ll venmo you the exact amount.” “Uh sure,” Amdla said, as he got out of the car. “Hold on, I don’t want y’all to have to pay me. I have some money and I can p–” Kevin said. “Wait, can I join?” Before Amdla responded, Clostri answered for him. “No, Amdla is a big boy and I’m confident he can handle being alone by himself for a bit. After all, he’s done this for about four years? Yes?” Amdla waved at them and headed inside the gas station store. The car started to move again. Apollo kicked his heels in anticipation. He muttered out, “Finally, took you long enough.” The car stopped again and Clostri got out of the car. It was clear what he was doing, stalling. He spoke to Clostri through his open window. “Uh hey Clos, can you like only fill up the tank halfway? Like we don’t need to fill it entirely. Cause like we’ll definitely make it even if there’s not like a lot.” “No. I’m more of a full tank of a guy.” He smirked. Apollo whispered to him. “Listen here gay boy. We can leave right now and have enough fuel for the next rest stop. We don’t have to fucking stay here.” “Nah, that would be too much of an effort.” Apollo swore at him and texted Amdla. “Hey Amdy, can u get me some cherry cola, Mont-Blanc KitKat and Nestlé Wonka Bar?” He received a response instantly. “Sure :)” “Thanks bestie <3” That should give Amdla more time. He did want some cherry cola but the other two were a ploy. The Mont-Blanc flavor was only available in Japan and the Wonka was discontinued. “I can play this game too, bitch.” He mumbled to himself, giving Clostri an evil eye. All the while, Kevin was oblivious, listening to his Spotify. Clostri filled up the tank and slid into his seat. He hovered his foot on the gas, as if he was mentally edging Apollo. There was about a whole minute window for them to ditch Amdla behind. But the vehicle only moved closer to the store, pissing off Apollo further. Amdla walked out of the store with snacks in multiple bags. It was amazing how unaware he was of everything. “Oh yeah, Apollo. I got your cherry coke but I couldn’t find the other two. So instead,” He placed the candies on Apollo’s lap. “I got some strawberry kit kats and another hershey's bar.” Apollo snagged them away, pouting his lips. Fifteen minutes later, Apollo took out his juul and vaped, rolling his window down halfway. “Can you please not do that?” “No. Fuck you.” “Come on.” “Fuck you.” “You hate me or something?” “You’re horrible. I fucking wonder how you stuck with us for this long. Are you like a prostitute that Clostri hired off Reddit and then wanted to keep around?” “I ain’t never sold my body. I at least have some dignity. And lastly, Clostri ain’t never mention sex so I got no clue what you’re talking about.” Clostri continued to drive and said, “Apollo said he wanted to kill you in the middle of the night. He despises you to the gut.” He covered up his laughter, as Kevin tapped his shoulder. “Clos, stop instigating and brake the car,” Kevin commanded. Then, they pulled over to the side of the road. Clostri did so without any protest. “That’s a serious thing to accuse a man of. I know Apollo deep down is a friend. It’s just the heat of the moment getting to all of us,” said Amdla. He wiped sweat off his forehead. “And you know what makes it even more spicier?” “Clos stop it,” Kevin shouted with his deep voice. He startled Amdla but left the other two unphased. “He tried to get me to leave you behind at the gas station.” “Come on, Clos, ” Kevin begged. “That’s why he looked so miserable when you came back to the car at the gas station. And it’s also why he stayed in the car at the zoo.” Amdla’s voice started to shake. “Please stop lying.” “I’m not. I just told you the truth.” “Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck. Up. Shut. The Fuck Up. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Shu–” Apollo screeched. Kevin slammed his fist on the dashboard and shouted. “Apollo, stop it now.” Apollo’s voice grew hoarse, squeaking as he continued his screams. “Shut the fucking fuck up you stupid ugly ass. Just shut the fucking up. Shut up.” His tears flowed, covering his face. Banshee-like shrieks filled the car as he unbuckled his seatbelt and lunged at Amdla. He clawed at the other’s sleeves, eager to get a hold on him. Kevin sprinted out of the car and yanked him out, dragging him to the grass. Though Apollo stood nearly half a foot taller than him, he held him without a struggle. “I’m gonna fucking smash your fucking faces,” He shouted at the car. “I’ll chop off Clos’ balls and choke out Amdla with them. Then I’ll fucking stomp on your airways and break your fucking spine. Suck my fucking fat cock.” Cars sped by them, honking. They illuminated a temporary spotlight in their blue darkness. The car door was slammed and Clostri strutted out. “Why the fuck are you still screaming? I was comforting Amdla cause he was having a panic attack. You ca–” “Good that he fucking had one. Good.” “You hurt him, bro. And you don’t even feel remorse for him. You’re literally the bully here.” Clostri walked towards them. “I-I-I’m the fucking bully? You have been tormenting me the whole time. Like you fucking lied to me about leaving Amdla b–” “Remember. I only said and I quote ‘I’ll think about it’. I never said yes did I?” “No you fucking didn’t. Liar. Bully. Fuckface. Homo.” He smirked. “You’re describing yourself better than me.” “Bully,” He yelped out, wiping his tears again. “Fucking bully.” He fell down on the cold grass, as Kevin continued to restrain him. “Loving your slam poetry right now, dude.” Clostri had a smug grin to his face. “You never change do you? You never feel bad for anything you do ever, always blaming so–” “Clos, please shut the fuck up. You berating Palo isn’t making anything better. It’s definitely not making Amdy happier.” Cars passed by again, whirring. The chirping of crickets filled in the silence. Clostri stared at his humming car and went back in. “Palo. It’s gonna be alright. It’s all going to get better,” Kevin shook Apollo, hugging him. He squeaked. “Y-you sure?” “I’m certain. When I was in my group, the guys fought like this all the time. Most of the time it was for petty reasons like this.” He chuckled. “It’s in nature for us guys to fight. But no matter how much we cried or how bruised we got, we always slept in the same building every night.” Apollo formed a smile. “Why do you hate him so much anyway? Haven’t seen you angry like that in months.” “Well for one. The juuling thing. He’s like that annoying teacher who kicks you out of class for having a juul on your desk.” “He’ll get used to it. Don’t worry. Remember how pissed Clostri would get when you vaped early on?” “Yeah and he’d like go on a big rant about big tobacco and how dangerous nicotine and vaping is blah bla blah. Now, he doesn’t even give a shit.” The two laughed. “Just give it time, Palo. Everything will get better.” “Yeah.” “Are you ready to go back to the car?” “I guess so.” He shrugged as Kevin let him go and they returned to the car.

Apollo noticed Amdla was jamming his nails on his forearm. His sleeve was pulled back and there were dents of him pressing his nails. “Hey Amdla,” Apollo poked his shoulder. He turned to face him with a frown. “What did I do? What did I do to make you hate me so much?” Apollo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Oh my fucking God.” He facepalmed. “You could’ve been like ‘Hey Apollo, I’m sorry for pissing you off and I hope we can be good friends’ but no. You fucking restarted it. You know if you like just didn’t say anything and hugged me, I wouldn’t be fucking pissed at you again.” “Why do you hate me?” “I don’t know, okay? I don’t fucking know.” He did know. He knew damn well why. Strangers were terrifying. He couldn’t admit he hated Amdla because he was a new addition to his established friend group. That would be a cowardly move. What would the other two think of him? A Youtuber that hates meeting people and acts more of a recluse than an outgoing person. He won’t allow that to disrupt his image. “There has to be a reason to hate me. I know anger like that has to come from somewhere.” “Fine.” He threw his hands in the air. “I’m not really sure why. Like I don’t have like a definitive reason. And I don’t have to.” Amdla sighed. “Come on, man, there has to be. There’s a reason for everything or else nothing matters.” “Maybe nothing does matter,” He chuckled. “It does. I spent the past four years trying to find a reason. I had nothing else to do. No school or job. And you know what I think my reason is? Being with pe–” “Can we just make up already? It’s like getting late,” Apollo interrupted. “Alright. We’re bros?” Amdla held the other’s hand. Apollo grinned. “We’re bros,” They hugged.

“Men. We made up already?” asked Clostri. “Yeppers.” He started the car and went on the road.

“You know something Apollo?” “What?” “You’re the first group to actually care about me. I was half expecting y’all to just throw me out on the side of the road.” “Wait,” Apollo’s eyes enlarged. “They really like left you behind like that?” “Mmhmm and half the time they took something from me. Only one valuable thing I lost: a watch my Papa gave me. But,” He paused. “I think that’s for the better.” “You don’t like your dad?” “Nope.” “Mood. Hey, that's something we share in common. Don’t like our parents.” Amdla chuckled. “Hell yeah,” They fist bumped each other.

On the rest of the ride, Amdla fell asleep with the Oreo pillow in his arms. He rested his head on Apollo’s shoulder. Kevin turned to face them both. “Aww. You guys look so cute.” Apollo faced the man sleeping on his shoulder. “He does look kinda adorable. But I’m way cuter,” He rubbed the other’s dark brown hair. Kevin took out his phone and took a picture of them. In that photo, Apollo smiled and gave a thumbs up while Amdla snuggled on his shoulder. The first stop was at Kevin’s. The house was a pale white and of the modern style. Filled with intersecting cubes and rectangles. Even the windows were grand and square. Kevin and Amdla got their belongings and moved out of the car. “Wow this looks like a celebrity home. I thought y’all famous people lived in like hollywood or something.” Amdla pointed at the living room windows on the second level. Kevin chuckled as he unlocked the door. He looked up at the security cameras and waved. “Nah. Well, I tried to live in California last year. Lasted only a month before I came back here. Everything’s terrible there. The people, the roads and the air.” They walked to the front door but they turned as footsteps caught up to them. Apollo sprinted to them with two boxes of fireworks. “Almost forgot to give you this.” He hugged Amdla. “Bye Amdy, bye Kev,” He then hugged Kevin. “See ya Palo,” said Amdla as the both of them waved to him. Before Apollo returned to the car, he formed a heart with his hands, which was reciprocated.

Clostri drove down the lit street, as they stayed quiet. Twenty minutes later, he dropped off Apollo in front of his house. A dark but typical two-story suburban home. The porch light illuminated his package-cluttered doorstep. As he got out of the car, Clostri tapped his shoulder. “So, do you even expect you two will continue to be friends?” “No. Not at all. But I’ll enjoy it. Even if it like lasts only a week.” “Really? He’s like Kevin, very forgiving. So I think he’s gonna be a permanent addition.” Apollo sighed. “Well, he could be worse. You know something? I think I’m glad that he didn’t recognize any of us. Fans are like the worst.” “You got that right. But I was thinking of another thing; The less people who don’t know the shit going down between the both of us the better. “You think he’ll like figure it out or something?” “No. He has worms for brains like any southerner. Listen to me, he will never ever learn about it. And even if he does, he won’t believe any of it.” “Wait. There’s still one thing I’m confused about. When I woke up during the night, I didn’t see Amdy nor his shit. Where the hell did he go?” “I dunno. For all I know he could’ve left the room with our keycard for a late night hookup and returned in time for the morning.” “But I was awake like really early. The sun was barely up.” “Then no clue. Back to what I was saying, goodnight Palo. Sweet dreams.” He let go of Apollo and he watched as he unlocked his front door and went in. Once he slammed the door, he drove to his home a few blocks down. He picked up his phone and opened Grindr.

#story #oc #lgbt #fiction

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moved-19871997 · 3 years

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georgenap fake dating 700something words :))

Out of sheer boredom George pokes at the G, O and V letters of his keyboard, cursor set in the Google URL field. It autofills in the US government website on immigration during COVID. Unsurprisingly, it hasn’t changed since yesterday. George tilts his forehead towards his mic instinctively, and groans, just loud enough for it to be picked up in the call. Dream’s muted and deafened, editing since before George woke up, he’d probably forgotten he was still in the call, Quackity’s muted, doing homework and he doesn’t react to it, but Sapnap does, making a questioning noise in return.

“Immigration,” George grunts out, trusting that Sapnap would understand. He sees Quackity deafen after he says that, not interested in hearing the same argument again.

“Block that fucking site,” Sapnap says, already tired of the conversation that’s going to come, “use whatever you did in uni and block the site, George.”

“I forgot what the extension was called,” George says, lying straight through his teeth.

“George.”

“Sapnap,” George returns, clipped and over-enunciated.

“You know the second it changes you’re going to get twenty emails, four news notifs and it’s probably going to trend on Twitter, you won’t miss it,” Sapnap tells him, for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah,” George says, and he knows, he knows he won’t miss it, he knows the second it’s allowed he’s applying for his visa and he’s going to be on the first plane over, he doesn’t think there’s anyone else in the entirety of London, hell, the whole of Britain who wants to go to Florida as badly as he does. His uni friends clowned him, hard, for it when he met up with them a few weeks ago, because yeah sure England isn’t the best, but Orlando, Florida, really George?

And George had ducked his head, picked at the label on his beer bottle, and said ‘Yeah, really,’. And they’d all moved on as easy as anything, with the odd comment thrown around about how George spent more time on TeamSpeak and Discord stuck in his room than out in the common areas or at parties. Maybe he was just born in the wrong country, Harry joked, bumping his shoulder, God meant to stick him in Florida but fucked up and he landed in London instead. George grinned and agreed because he wasn’t wrong, to be fair.

“George,” Sapnap’s voice filters through his headphones, softer than before, maybe because this was the fourth time in two days he’d checked the site, maybe because he was just as tired as George was, maybe because it hurt him, seeing just how much George longed to be with his friends. “Block the site.”

George scrolled down the page, just one last time, refreshed just to make sure and scanned it again. The ‘marriage’ clause catches his eye, and one of his worst ideas reappears in his mind.

“Marriage is always on the table,” he says, an offhand joke, overdone at this point. Dream would never agree to it, concerned with laws and authorities and what have you, and he’d advise against George and Sapnap, once again concerned with laws and authorities and what have you, on behalf of his friends, because what’s the point of George being in Florida if he’s in jail, you morons?

“You know I’m always down,” Sapnap says immediately, like he’d done every single time George had brought it up.

George goes quiet for a second, cursor hovering over the ‘Block This Site’ button. “Actually?”

“Actually what?” Sapnap says, chewing on a Starburst, strawberry flavoured. It makes him think of the stupid t-shirt George ordered on Amazon on a whim, wore on stream and then made sell out.

“Marry me.”

Sapnap chokes on his Starburst.

“GEORGE?”

“What?” George says, just a little petulantly.

“You’re so stupid, ‘Marry me’ fuck off,” Sapnap says, as soon as he’s recovered from choking on his candy, gulping water as he speaks. The sound of the bottle rattles down the line when it’s empty.

George sits up straighter in his chair, “No I’m being serious,” he insists, “it’ll be faster than applying the other ways, and it’ll be easier.”

“You’re telling me it’ll be easier to prove to the US government that we’re in love and going to get married than just prove to them that you’re an employee of Dream’s merch company or whatever?”

“Yeah,” George says, in the same tone he uses when Sapnap asks dumb questions, like it should be blatantly obvious.

#i realised it would like logically be way to long for me to mentally do so #yeah :)#georgenap

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shwazzberryswriting · 3 years

Text

7 Steps to Forgiveness, Step 2: Be Supportive

Step 2: Be Supportive

Becoming the girlfriend of an NCT fraternity member meant that Bian gained new friends. If it wasn’t a fraternity brother she’d get to know, it would be a girlfriend. In their current situation, Bian and Yangyang were hanging out with a frat brother and his girlfriend. Renjun and Alexandria were arguing about a movie. They were going to have a double date at Bian’s place, and Renjun wanted to watch a horror movie while Alexandria insisted on a drama. No one wanted to watch any more of Bian’s crappy action movies, and Yangyang said he was happy just to be with Bian. Renjun had made retching motions until Alexandria elbowed his side.

Given how Yangyang simply threw his arm over her shoulder and kissed her cheek, Bian appreciated her boyfriend’s declaration.

“Jun, we had to watch a scary movie last time we were at Chenle’s,” Alexandria said with a bit of a whine as she and Renjun walked behind, swinging their bags of snacks dangerously from side to side. Bian could hear their boxes and bags of candy clashing against each other with every other step.

“And we’re going to watch a movie at Bian’s,” he countered. “She and Yangyang said we can pick. Last night we watched Nameless Gangster so I get to pick tonight.”

“Bian?” Alexandria spoke up. Bian turned her head around to look at the quarreling couple. “It’s your place, what’s fair? I get to pick the movie or Renjun?”

“Don’t answer,” Yangyang said. “Trust me. They’ll figure it out.”

“We aren’t that bad,” Alexandria said with a laugh as they finally reached Bian’s complex. “Renjun likes to be difficult, so I indulge him from time to time.”

“I don’t like to be difficult,” Renjun whined. Alexandria laughed.

“See? You just like to whine,” she said before planting a kiss on his cheek.

They returned to their quarrel as Yangyang let go of Bian and bent down before her. She laughed, still not used to Yangyang’s request. He’d decided that he would carry her on his back whenever they encountered any flights of stairs.

“What are you doing?” Renjun asked as he and Alexandria stopped to stare at Yangyang carrying Bian up the stairs on his back.

“Jun, that’s so sweet,” Alexandria said. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, and opened his mouth before she said, “You don’t have to.”

“I wasn’t going to offer,” he replied. He smiled from ear to ear as she turned away from him wordlessly. “What? I know that you don’t want to be considered a damsel in distress. I’m a feminist, Dria. Equality for all.”

“I’ll carry you up a flight of stairs the next time we come across one,” she offered.

“I won’t stop you,” he replied, and began poking her sides, making her laugh.

Bian understood what Yangyang had meant. Renjun and Alexandria were too infatuated with each other; if anyone joined in on their conversation they’d be forced to play as a participating audience member.

“It’s really sweet, though,” Alexandria insisted when they walked into Bian’s place. “Is that part of Yangyang’s Sorry He’s a Piece of Shit thing?”

“Babe,” Yangyang said with a sigh, “did Lulu really have to tell everyone what she called it?”

“I didn’t know she told Alexie,” she replied. “I swear! Did you prefer Yangyang’s Apology Tour?”

“I don’t want to call it anything,” he replied as they took their shoes off. She took his hand, and he gave a soft grin. “What do you want to call it?”

“Nothing,” she replied, walking him over to the couch. “I did let Lulu have a little too much fun giving you shit. She’s still not over Fernando so I think she’s projecting a little.”

“Who’s Fernando?” Renjun asked as he and Alexandria sat on the right side of the couch.

“Just a guy my best friend hates,” Bian replied.

They all settled in as Yangyang navigated the TV screen Bian had purchased from a friend for $40. Yangyang and his fellow NCT frat brother Xiaojun had come over to set the TV up against the wall where her desk used to sit. They also helped her move her olive couch to face the TV instead of her bed. It had been Xiaojun who told Yangyang that if he were truly sorry he’d carry Bian up a flight of stairs.

It was likely due to the two being close that Yangyang took it as a personal challenge to prove that he was sorry. Bian found their friends giving Yangyang shit fun, mostly because he took it well. She indulged him with the staircase carrying because he always looked proud when they made it to the top.

As the movie The 3rd Eye began playing, Renjun and Alexandria were busy sharing drinks and eating their candy. Bian liked the mystery of the movie (two sisters move to their childhood home after their parents’ passing and one of them begins seeing things), but she and Yangyang struggled to take the movie seriously as they became captivated with the special flavors of Starbursts they’d purchased at the gas station. He’d bought a package of tropical fruit flavors while she’d bought one with a mystery flavor.

“Kiwi?” Bian guessed, chewing on the mystery flavor.

“Hey, I dare you to eat the red Skittle with the red M&M,” Yangyang said, reaching over to the coffee table to grab the candies.

Alexandria screamed and Bian turned her head over to see Alexandria throwing her arms around Renjun’s neck. The way Renjun’s eyes were still glued to the TV screen as he passively wrapped his arm around Alexandria’s shoulders, Bian figured that this was how they always watched scary movies. She turned her head over to see Yangyang watching the movie, putting some Skittles in his mouth.

She turned her head back to see Alexandria grab the front of Renjun’s yellow hoodie, her eyes shut tight as she rested her head on his shoulder. He squeezed her shoulder and a soft smile appeared on his lips. Bian turned to look at Yangyang, and shifted closer to him, crossing her leg so her body would shift in toward him. She tugged onto the sleeve of his black sweater.

“Scared?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at her. She nodded and felt her cheeks grow warm as he threw his arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer to him with a firm hold.

To Step 3

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sergeanttpoliteness · 4 years

Note

are requests open 🥺 apparantly in the 20s it was slang to call someone's bf daddy, given that can we get a reader who's from another dimension getting all blushy when noir mentions it given the context of it now?

hello, nonnie! so sorry it took me almost a week to get to this! thank you for the request, love :) you have no idea how much writing that sentence made me squirm from embarrassment

——-

➹jealousy➹(spider-noir x reader)

Peter isn’t one to get jealous, or at least that’s what he tries to tell himself. He doesn’t mind your ex who doesn’t seem to get ‘no’ for an answer. It’s the truth, he swears… right?

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this isn’t sponsored by starburst ™, lmao. anyway, y’all really like spider-noir, huh. i kinda played myself when i included both peter’s in this, ahaa, i tried my best to make it as least confusing as possible. i’m sorry, ily.

warnings: annoying ex, mild jealousy (i mean, it’s the title lol)

——-

You slowly drew the blinds of the window, and in spite of your speculations which you were nearly a hundred percent confident in, your eyes grew bigger as soon as you got a glimpse of the scene unfolding outside of Aunt May’s house. Shortly after, Miles and Peter B. Parker (you had to admit, the amount of Peter’s in your life truly scrambled your brain sometimes) joined you, and the three of you squeezed close together, attempting to look through the small slit without attracting much attention.

You had the urge to take your phone out of your pocket and start recording a video to send all your friends, for this was a spectacle that you weren’t sure you’d ever have the pleasure of witnessing ever again in your lifetime: a drunk man standing in the front yard, passionately belting out the lyrics of a song to the closed door of the house. “Did he, like, get the wrong house?” Miles muttered, his heart thumping fast as the young man noticed all three of you and pointed directly at you.

“Please! Don’t leave me!” He cried out.

You took one last look at him before you retreated from the window, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No. That’s my ex.” You sighed, questioning why you ever were attracted to the boy as his tragic performance continued. Peter B. laughed and you closed your eyes, ashamed.

“That’s your ex?! The ex?” Yes, this was, in fact, not the first time they heard about your ex-boyfriend. The number of stories you had was inevitable since the train wreck of a relationship lasted two years, after all. Whilst he now went on to voice the instruments of the song, worry began to seep within everyone when you all simultaneously came upon the realization that somehow the jerk had discovered where you were staying during the weekend. Although you’d been like a daughter to May since you were a kid, you were aware she would not be content with you once she returned from her trip and heard that you failed in your basic task of taking care of her home and her address now belonged as part of a stalker’s knowledge.

Peter B. glanced at you, frowning. “You want me to go and talk to him?”

You appreciated his offer, and your inner voice urged you to cave into the most effortless way out of the situation; however, your eyes moved to the hallway, and another concern, more potent and persuasive, drowned it out. “Thanks, dude, but don’t worry, I’ve got it,” You smiled at him, albeit you weren’t entirely certain about that statement. “Just… you guys go and distract Peter and make sure he doesn’t find out my ex is here, or else…”

Eight months. From December up till August, you’d known the third Peter Parker in your life for eight months. In the fourth month, April, you recognized your true intentions and feelings. In the fifth month, you finally acted upon them, and made the first move. At last, June, the sixth month, rolled in, and Peter built up the courage to make things official. All those months possessed two constant factors: your ever-growing connection and… your ex.

One of the many characteristics you were thankful for and adored in Peter was his control over his jealousy. No fingerprints of possessiveness nor suffocating authority smeared your relationship, regardless of your distance, Peter’s background, the exasperating cameos of your ex-boyfriend, or that you’d expressed to him you didn’t want anyone other than the “spider-gang” (as Peter B. had named it) to know about you two being together since— well, how in the world were you supposed to explain where he came from?

You felt irrational and absurd once the thought passed through your head, but sometimes you wondered if Peter worried too little. The origin of said thought could be traced back to when you weren’t quite dating yet, and your ex booty-called you in the midst of your first date. Peter’s amused expression at your own embarrassed one puzzled you, yet you chose not to think much about it and instead were glad it didn’t send the evening down the wrong trail. The thought reappeared a second instant one month into your relationship, though, after you showed him a large bouquet of flowers, a poem attached to it that could be offensive to those who practiced the art and with your ex’s handwriting. Again, nothing; later, you two found yourselves mocking the failed poetry and the odd comparison of your adorableness to that of E.T.’s (you really had no explanation for that one).

However, the suspicion that perhaps he was too good at hiding his feelings arose when a week earlier, you got a phone call from your ex begging you to escape with him to Iceland. That was the first time you saw it: the hint of irritation in Peter’s stiff body and tense jaw. Minutes later, you blocked the phone number— an action way too long overdue, before things became strained.

You closed the front door behind you and approached the drunk man, resolute on preventing the two men from meeting each other and getting under each other’s skin as you clenched your fists closed. “I forgot to say out loud, how beautiful you really are to me!” Your ex sang, a smirk breaking out on his face when he saw your clear annoyance. “I can’t be without! You’re my perfect little punching bag—”

“Matt, what the hell are you doing?”

He quirked a brow, giving you a once-over. “Serenading you?” Matt said as if it were obvious. You rolled your eyes and scowled at him, keeping a significant distance between the two of you.

“No, I mean, how did you find me?”

“I followed you.”

Fear and disgust crawled all over your skin. You took a step back, narrowing your eyes. “Listen, I really don’t want to get in trouble, okay? So for the last time, please stop calling me—”

“But this isn’t a phone call.”

“Or following me.” You finished. He stumbled forward, shaking his head vigorously.

“But I love you,” He sniffed, wiping the one mediocre tear making its way down his cheek. You could feel a groan forming in your throat from his idiocy and child-like attitude; you couldn’t believe he was fucking crying.

You crossed your arms across your chest, unimpressed. “Well, I don’t.” His shift from sadness to anger caught you off guard.

“Bullshit, I know you still love me. I know you miss me,” Matt pointed an accusing finger at you, advancing closer. “Stop playing hard to get and let’s just, l-let’s just go back to normal—”

You laughed in disbelief, your mouth ajar. “Playing hard to get? How is this playing hard to get?!”

Meanwhile, Miles and Peter B. stood in front of Peter, blocking him from leaving the hallway as he remained in between the two and the bathroom door. “So, whatcha think?” Miles asked him, ogling the man. Peter bit again the yellow Starburst and chewed for a while, eyes squinted while he analyzed the flavor. He swallowed and looked down at the wrapper in the palm of his hand, nodding.

“I like it. I think it may be my favorite.”

“What? No way, try the pink flavor again,” Miles took out a pink squared candy from the bag and held it up to Peter’s face. “It’s the best.”

Peter B. shook his head in disagreement and stared down at Miles, scrunching his brows together. “What do you mean? Red is the best.” Miles, now distracted, dropped his arm by his side and showed him a face of utter disgust.

“Do your taste buds even work? Everyone I know says pink is best.”

“Do your dimension’s taste buds work? You’re totally wrong, bud.”

Peter pocketed the wrapper, shrugging. “Personally, I enjoyed all of them—”

“Try red.”

“No, pink.”

Peter B. groaned. “Pink is overrated.” Miles looked at him straight in the eye, expressionless.

“Your opinion is irrelevant.”

Peter B. Parker had never felt more hurt by a teenager.

“I’m the oldest one here! I think I know better.”

Peter was growing impatient. He cleared his throat and gently moved Miles aside. “All right, while you fellas discuss… this, I’m gonna go—”

“No!” Miles placed the pink Starburst in Peter’s hand, frantic. “Eat the pink one.”

“Eat them all!” Peter B. chuckled nervously, shrugging with his hands raised, palms facing upwards. Miles nodded as if it were the best idea of the century.

“Yeah, I don’t want them anymore, here—” He slammed the bag of candy onto Peter’s chest. Peter hesitantly took ahold of it, visibly perplexed. He opened his mouth to question their strange behavior and if they thought he had been born yesterday, until a distant singing voice interrupted him.

“And I need you! I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m sorry! I love you, fuck!”

“What’s that?”

‘The neighbors’, ‘The TV’, Peter B. and Miles said at the same time.

This plan was doomed from the beginning.

“Da da da da! Da da da da!”

Peter took off his glasses, guarding them inside his pocket and his brows knitted together before he pushed the two aside and took off, putting on his mask.

“Quiet down!” You hissed at Matt, glancing back at May’s house. His hands landed on your shoulders, but you immediately pushed him off you. “Fuck off, Matt! We’ve been broken up for seven months already! I moved on, and so should you!” He cocked his head to the side, his face twisted in confusion as if you’d just spoken in a foreign language.

“Broken up?” He repeated your words, voice small. “It was just a break.”

It was your turn to be confused. “What? …No. It’s over. It was over a long time ago.”

His face fell as a realization dawned upon him and his gaze burned into yours, emotionless, making you more uncomfortable. “You’re seeing someone else, aren’t you?”

Your heartbeat sped up. “No, I said I moved on, not that I was seeing someone else—”

“You’re cheating on me?”

You took in a deep breath, close to tipping to the edge. “Again, we’re broken up.” You reiterated harshly. “As in we’re not a relationship anymore.” But Matt’s dense self wouldn’t give up just yet.

“It was just a break.”

You’ve had it.

“It’s not a fucking break!” You shouted, making him jump. You heard the front door open and you both whipped around, your heart dropping. As soon as your sight landed on Peter going down the stairs, you gulped. Peter B. and Miles’ plan wasn’t the only one that failed that night.

“What’s going on here?” Peter’s voice was hard, bitter. You speed-walked closer to him before he could reach Matt.

“Peter—” You stopped him in his tracks, your hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him out of here, okay? I got it.” No, you didn’t, most definitely not. And you could tell he knew.

He looked at Matt, and although his face remained covered, chills ran down the latter’s spine. “Are you Matt?” Peter asked loudly. Matt narrowed his eyes, puffing out his chest.

“Who are you?” He nodded at Peter, trying to sound intimidating, but the other didn’t move a muscle.

“I asked you a question.”

Matt studied Peter’s dark outfit, wondering if he was so drunk he was imagining the man. “Y-Yeah, that’s me. I’m Matt.”

“All right. Look at me, Matt.” Matt did as he said. “Good. Now, listen very closely.”

“What are you doing?” You whisper-screamed at Peter, giving him a warning with your eyes. “I said I got this.”

Peter stared at you, considering letting you handle it by yourself as you wished. But the flare, the ire at your ex had been fortifying, expanding slowly since the beginning; and now that he was there, just a few feet away— a drunken moron who relentlessly peeved you and riled him up— ultimately, impatience engulfed him and he shook his head. “You clearly don’t.”

Once Peter reached Matt, he towered over him. Matt blinked up at him, feeling smaller than ever. “Y/N’s with me now. If I hear from you one more darn time, then the coppers will be the least of your worries. Trust me. Got it?” Peter said lowly, and Matt solely nodded. “Got it?” He repeated through clenched teeth.

Matt put his hands in the air in defeat, backing away. “Heard you, man. Fuckin’ weirdo.” He muttered before he turned around and sat down on the sidewalk. You grabbed Peter’s hand and dragged him back inside, where Peter B. and Miles sat on the couch and flashed you apologetic smiles after you barged in.

“Sorry. I’ll call a cab for him,” Peter said behind you. You waved your hand at him, shrugging and mumbling ‘it’s okay’.

“Is it over?” Miles asked, trying to look out the window from the sofa. You nodded. “Okay, can we finally go over the plan—”

Peter took off his mask, disheveling his dark hair. “Why did you try to keep this from me?” You turned around and rubbed your face, slightly frustrated.

“Because I didn’t want what just happened to happen.”

“What? Me telling him to scram off since you wouldn’t?”

“Peter, I told you: I don’t want anyone to know about this.” You gestured between you two. You’d had this conversation before, and he understood your reasoning. He truly did. His appearance, it screamed at the top of its lungs the truth that he did not belong there. It simply was obvious, unmistakable. However, now that he’d curbed the restraint he’d created for himself once, his authentic feelings and mouth were loose, completely out of his control.

“He wasn’t going to stop bugging you!” He pointed out the window. “What if he did something worse in the future?”

“But now he’s gonna tell other people that I’m seeing someone!”

“And so what?”

You laughed, your brows furrowed. “They’re gonna want to meet you! What am I gonna do, then? ‘Ah, yes, meet my boyfriend from the 1930s!’”

Again, you noticed that irritation in his features. But all of a sudden, it was clear that it was more than just annoyance.

Jealousy. He was jealous.

“All right, then! I want other people to know who your real daddy is!” He exclaimed, his eyebrows lifted and his hands on his waist.

You heard Peter B. and Miles explode, both shouting ‘whoa!’ while you sputtered and sensed your cheeks blazing.

“Yo, gross! Keep it in the bedroom!”

“We have a minor in here, please!”

Peter’s sight jumped between the three of you, his expression the definition of puzzlement as you covered your face with your hands and Peter B. and Miles continued feeding your embarrassment with their comments. “W-what? What did I say?” He stuttered, looking at you helplessly.

You peeked one eye up at him, laughing. “Pete, baby…”

Needless to say, after you updated Peter on slang, his flushed self couldn’t quite concentrate as Miles went over the plan.

#spider noir x reader #spider man noir x reader #spider noir x you #spider noir imagine #spider noir one shot #spider noir fan fic #fan fiction #spider man #peter parker #spider noir x y/n #fem! reader #male!reader #gender neutral #spider man: into the spider verse #sm: itsv #itsv fan fic #marvel

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color-me-malfoy · 4 years

Text

Trip To Hogsmeade

Draco Malfoy x Shy!Reader

Summary: Draco tries to impress you when the two of you become partners on the trip to Hogsmeade, but exactly how will it turn out?

“Alright, third-years, gather round, there are a few reminders before we start your first trip to Hogsmeade,” A prefect clapped her hands to get your attention before you left Hogwarts. “We have a few changes so that none of us go wandering around and getting into… accidents.”

Draco worked his way through the crowd of students looking for you, Y/N L/N, the person he really wanted to go to Hogsmeade with.

He twisted and turned through the groups of students, until he caught a glimpse of your hair from behind.

“In order not to have any cases of lost students, each of you must have a partner.”

Everyone cheered at this, but to you it meant looking for a complete stranger to be partners with, because your best friend, Toni was sick and couldn’t come.

Draco smiled unwittingly as he saw you, but before he could start walking, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes and swatted the hand away.

“Excuse m- Pansy?” His expression changed.

She was staring at him with a knowing expression.

“You’re going to ask her to Hogsmeade, aren’t you?”

“Wha- What are you talking about-”

He stopped when Pansy raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Alright, yes I am,” he grumbled.

“So, you do like Y/N L/N,” Marcus peeked from behind Pansy.

Draco stopped, then stuttered, then groaned and flailed his hands.

“Alright, yes! I like her! How about instead of teasing me, you actually help a chap out? Care to give some advice?”

“Well, I know for a fact that girls like surprises,” Marcus winked.

“Appreciated,” Draco turned around and walked away, leaving Pansy and Marcus together.

“You shouldn’t have told him that, Marcus.”

“Yes, I know. I shouldn’t have told him that,” he buried his face in his hands.

While students buzzed here and there looking for their friends, you awkwardly stood by one side. You almost decided to just go on your own until someone made his way toward you.

White hair, Dark-green clothes, and a manipulative smirk?

You must be Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin heartthrob.

“You.” He pointed as he made his way toward you faster.

“M-Me?” You looked around.

“Yes, you,” he rolled his eyes, then stopped about four feet away from you. “Am I right to assume you don’t have a partner yet?”

You huffed bitterly. “Well, aren’t you the biggest genius on Earth,” you looked away.

“If you’d stop being sarcastic,” he snapped in front of your face, “you’ve already got one.”

You looked back up at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Who?”

He sighed loudly, then gestured towards himself, smiling. “Me! Surprise!”

“You?”

“Well, I’ve got no one, you’ve got no one, so…” he waved his hands around.

“You could have asked more properly, but alright,” you walked over to his side.

“Then it’s bloody settled! Let’s go to Hogsmeade!” he held his arm out for you to take and the both of you started for the carriages, Draco with a successful grin and you with a confused look on your face.

For the first part of the ride to Hogsmeade, neither of you said a word to the other, because you were still so confused about why Draco chose you, and Draco was anxiously thinking about a good way to start a conversation.

“Psst.”

Draco whirled around, and saw two students behind him, their faces covered with their newspapers.

The first student put their newspaper down.

“Pansy?” he whispered. “Were you watching us this entire time?”

The second person put their newspaper down too.

“You too, Marcus? What, are you two going into the spy business?”

Marcus snorted. “You wish, we’re only here to tell you you’re doing it all wrong.”

“What gives you the right to judge?” Draco sneered. “I bet you’ve never even asked a girl to Hogsmeade.”

“He asked me,” Pansy replied. “Besides, has Y/N even talked to you?”

“She has! She called me the biggest genius on Earth!”

“It was sarcastic, Draco.”

Draco stopped.

“I-It was?”

“Draco, she won’t like you if you’re being a sarcastic plonker,” Marcus rolled his eyes. “Be kind.”

Pansy laughed. “Oh, I’d love to see Draco Malfoy, cheeky little bastard of Slytherin, trying to be kind.”

Draco smirked. “Oh, yeah? Try me.”

He turned back around and looked back at you, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers.

Great, he thought. I still don’t know how to start.

Marcus went back to reading The Daily Prophet, but Pansy swatted it away.

“What?” Marcus turned to her.

“I want to see how this ends,” she said, leaning a little forward in her seat as you turned in your seat to face Draco.

“Were you going to ask me something?”

Draco opened his mouth, trying to think of something, then closed his mouth again. “I-I forgot what I was thinking about, sorry.”

“Oh,” you laughed, “happens all the time, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he turned even more towards you. “Anyway, what do you wanna talk about, Y/N?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know,” you scratched the back of your neck, looking anywhere but at him. “How’s your studies?”

“Ah, well, I enjoy it,” Draco replied.

Marcus snickered into his sleeve, while Pansy blinked unbelievingly.

“Did he just say he enjoyed it?” she asked.

Draco realized how fake that sounded, and internally kicked himself for that. “Well, I don’t actually enjoy it, I mean, I hate studying, but it’s bearable,” he rambled.

You laughed and nodded, then turned back to the rolling fields.

Draco buried his face in his hands and turned behind him.

“I almost died listening to your conversation, Draco,” Pansy said as she filed her nails.

“You had to make it straight to the point, didn’t you?” Draco hissed. “Do you two have any other good ideas, or are you just here to gloat?”

“Well, what’s the one thing that’s good about you that no matter how much of a bloody git you are everyone tries to suck you up?” Marcus asked.

“I’m… good-looking?” Draco gestured to his face.

“No, you idiot, you’re rich!” Marcus cried. “That’s why everyone calls you the spoiled brat of Slytherin!”

“…They do?” Draco tilted his head to the side, offended.

Pansy pushed Marcus’s face out of the way.

“That’s not the point! You have literally more money in your hands than what both my parents make in a month!” she explained. “Buy her candy from Honeydukes or something!”

She yelped in surprise when Draco suddenly snapped his fingers.

“Of course! Girls love gifts! Thanks, Pansy, see you!”

The minute the carriage stopped, Draco took your hand and helped you out.

“Where do you want to go?” Draco asked as the two of you strolled down the street.

“Y-You’re asking me?” You looked up at him. “I don’t know, how about Honeydukes?”

“Sure,” he led you into the candy shop.

Your smile grew wider at all the kinds of candy shelved in the tiny store.

“Wow, I feel like Willy Wonka!”

Draco snorted. “What kind of a name is that?”

“Oh,” you laughed. “Willy Wonka’s not a real person, he’s a fictional character. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, have you ever heard of it?”

He shook his head.

“He owns this huge candy factory with all kinds of sweets,” you wistfully recalled, staring “This feels just like it.”

As you looked around at the assorted candies, Draco was anxiously buzzing through the shop deciding on what to buy you.

You were looking at a heap of candy apple lollipops when Draco tapped you on the shoulder.

He was carrying seventeen boxes of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“D-Draco?” You gasped. “Hey, I’ll help you! Why are you buying these many boxes?”

He shoved it all into a basket, getting the attention of nearly everyone in the shop.

“I’m buying it for you,” he grinned, and some people were whispering, asking each other who “Draco’s Lucky Girl” was.

“Oh! Well, thanks, but why seventeen boxes?”

“Well, if you buy only a few, it’ll just be Bertie Bott’s Several Flavor Beans.”

“I-I don’t actually need seventeen boxes of these, I’ll never be able to finish them! I’ll just take one.”

“Oh, oka- One?” Draco looked at you, perplexed.

“We-well, actually not one, I’ll buy another for Toni!” You plucked another box and returned the rest to the shelf. “And just a mango starburst and a sherbet lemon-”

“Wait, wait, wait. You come to Hogsmeade for the first time and you only buy these?”

“Well, there’s plenty of food at Hogwarts and I don’t eat much-”

He cut you off.

“I’m getting you one of everything.”

“I couldn’t possibly pay for all that- wait, you’re getting me one of everything?”

“Yes! Didn’t you hear me?” He walked past you, taking every kind of candy he saw.

“I-I… Well, thank you?” You muttered as he came back with three baskets, then led you to the counter. You looked around and saw some of your schoolmates, some staring at the two of you in wonder and curiosity and some others giving you grins. Others drooled at the amount of candy you had in your hands… for free!

Fifty minutes later, after the grueling process of packaging the candy from Honeydukes, Draco was grinning like a boy on Christmas Day as he faced Pansy and Marcus, who were behind them at the line at The Three Broomsticks.

"This is the first time I've ever spent money on anyone besides myself, just so you know," he smirked as he wiped off the sweat on his forehead. "I feel great! What do you think?"

Pansy shared an uneasy glance with Marcus before she sighed and held Draco by the arms, whispering.

"Um, We hate to burst your bubble, Malfoy, but you're doing a terrible job."

Draco stared at her in confusion, then laughed nervously. "You're kidding, right?"

"She's right, Malfoy," Marcus hesitated. "You've been pulling Y/N like a poor puppy on a leash for the past two hours."

"Malfoy, you've got to let her do what she wants," Pansy explained. "We told you to spoil her, not to force her to buy everything. She never wanted seventeen boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I mean, did you even ask?"

Malfoy chewed on his bottom lip. "Well, I guess you're right for once, Parkinson," he mumbled.

"Hey, man up, Malfoy," Pansy ruffled Draco's hair. "Besides, I found out from her friend Toni that she likes you too."

Malfoy looked up and grinned. "She does?"

Pansy cut him off. "Wait, before you go buy her the whole Hogsmeade to proclaim your love for her, remember she's still the shyest girl in Hogwarts," she warned.

"Alright," Draco nodded, then turned to check his wallet.

"That's the spirit, Malfoy!" Marcus cheered, then turned to Pansy and lowered his voice to a whisper. "How'd you get Toni Yorkshire to tell you Y/N liked Draco?"

"I made truth potion and snuck it in her food," Pansy winked. "Then I asked her about it and she sang like a bloody bird."

"Is that why she's absent today?"

"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies, Flint."

Draco mulled over their words, until he felt your light tap on his shoulder.

"Draco?" you called.

"Yeah?"

"It's our turn."

"Oh, it's our turn," he placed a hand on your back and guided you to the front. "One Gillywater with candy ice and..." he turned to you. "What'll you be getting, darling?"

Trying to hide your surprise at the nickname, you cleared your throat awkwardly and looked down at the floor. "A-A butterbeer, please. With a just a splash of milk, thanks."

"Alright, dears," the woman at the counter wrote down your orders, "a Gillywater on the ice and a butterbeer with milk for the happy couple," she winked at you.

The happy what?

You sputtered and let out a nervous laugh.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but we're not dating."

"Yet," Draco laughed.

"W-What?" You turned to him with a red face.

The woman chuckled at your reaction.

"Why don't you two go find a place to sit?" she asked cheerily. "We'll bring your drinks over."

You nodded shyly and thanked her. But as you were about to take your wallet out, but Draco put a hand over yours.

"This one's on me," he smirked as he went through his own wallet, then handed a wad of money to the woman. "Go find us a table, Y/N."

You blushed even harder, smiled, and thanked him and the woman one last time before scurrying away to find a table.

The woman watched Draco as he gazed at you.

"You've got it bad for the lass, haven't you, Mister Malfoy?" she smiled as she pulled two mugs from the shelf behind the counter.

"No I haven't," he rolled his eyes.

"Sure you don't, sir," she poured their drinks. "I've seen that look on many a young lad in my days, I know a lovesick boy when I see one."

"Well, congratulations," Draco huffed. "Maybe I do."

"Listen 'ere, 'sonny," the woman placed their drinks on a tray as she spoke, "If I were you, I'd keep in mind that the best way to a lady's heart is... through her heart."

Draco tilted his head in confusion. "I-I don't understand."

"You don't actually make her fall for you by changing anything about yourself, or buying 'er expensive things, the more important things are being a gent to her and letting her be who she is."

Draco nodded his head at her words.

"Thank you Ma'am, I better be going back to my girl," he took the drinks and went around to find you, but turned around to face her. "If things go well, I'll let you know!"

"Here you go, Y/N, your butterbeer with extra milk and a Gillywater for me," he placed the tray down at your table.

"I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me, Malfoy," you smiled.

"It's nothing, really," he replied as he sat down.

He stared at you as you sipped your butterbeer and looked back up at him with foam on the sides of your lips, and he chuckled at how adorable you looked.

"What?" you laughed. "Do I have butterbeer on my mouth?"

He shook his head and smiled. "It's just... no, it's..."

"I do, don't I?" You laughed as you wiped your lips on the back of your hand. He laughed even harder because the foam didn't come off.

"Let me get it," he took the end of his scarf, leaned in, and pressed it to your lips.

The both of you had blushed positively cherry-red by the time he sat back down.

You mumbled a thanks and drank more butterbeer, shyly avoiding his gaze, and he took his mug of Gillywater, downing half of it in a second.

When he put his mug down, he took a deep breath and looked back up at you.

"Listen, Y/N," he started.

You looked up at him, and he continued.

"I'm really sorry if I was too much for you to handle today. I mean," he took a breath to steady himself, "I was kind of rude at the start of the trip, then I suddenly went quiet, then I went ahead and did… you know… the thing with the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.."

"It's alright, Draco," you reassured him. "Besides, it was kind of fun to see this new side to you even just for a day."

"That's the thing, Y/N," he took your hand in his. "I... don't want this to be just for a day. I really like you, and maybe we could spend more time together… please?" He wasn't sure if it was a question or a sentence. He looked back up at you again, waiting for your answer.

You only stared at him, and his smile dropped until you exhaled lightly, then gave a warm smile.

"I'd love to! That would be great!"

"You would?" he asked. "You really positively would?"

You nodded, and he smiled wider than before as the two of you began to talk freely, laughing as the you told each other stories and talked about life besides school.

When your prefects told you it was fifteen minutes before you would return to Hogwarts, the two of you stood up and returned the mugs to the woman at the counter.

"I'm assuming it went well, Mister Malfoy," she smirked as she took the mugs from your hands. "I hope your first official date will be back here at The Three Broomsticks."

"Oh, I don't know when we'll be able to go back here," you frowned, but smiled after. "But we’ll definitely come back!"

She smiled back, then leaned in to whisper to you. "He's a nice young fellow, dear, don't let him go that easily."

You were startled, but laughed.

"I'll keep that in mind, Ma'am."

The two of you made your way to the carriages, and the two of you sat by the end, where you noticed two students with their faces covered by their newspapers.

Draco rolled his eyes, then said, "Alright, you can stop spying on us now."

The two put their newspapers down and laughed nervously.

“This is Pansy Parkinson and Marcus Flint,” he smiled, then shot a glare at them. “They’ve been spying on us even before we left Hogwarts.”

“We weren’t spying on you, we were just making sure the two of you had a nice day!” Pansy gasped dramatically. “Right, Marcus?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” Marcus laughed. “Anyway, would you like to join us for dinner?”

Pansy leaned forward. “We’d love to hear about your day.”

“Oh, I don’t think you would, I bet you already know all about it.” Draco joked.

The rest of the ride was spent in a jolly atmosphere, you with Draco and your newfound friends, talking and laughing, eating sweets and planning on your next trip to Hogsmeade, which you hope would be very soon.

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