You loved your family. Really, you did.

But there were times, and many times they were, that you would have been more comfortable ripping your own hair out strand-by-strand than having to sit through another session of verbal abuse.

You weren’t entirely certain what you had done, if anything, to deserve such discrimination from your grandfather, father, and brother amongst a few cousins and uncles. It was like 3 generations of men in your family had decided to use you as a verbal punching bag.

You still vividly remembered the time you had told them that you didn’t particularly appreciate how they talked to you. They laughed right in your face and told you to grow a thicker skin. That Y/l/n’s were a tougher breed than most and that if you couldn’t handle it then maybe you weren’t of their blood.

October break wasn’t any different. Your family had met up for your annual dinner together aside from Christmas.

“And what about you? When are you going to settle down, Y/n?” your grandfather quipped after shoveling a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “I want some great-grandbabies!”

Before you could even open your mouth in response your brother, James, chimed in. “I wouldn’t count on anyone banging her anytime soon.”

“Well,” you chuckled, “would you look at who’s talking?” James grumbled to himself and threw a pea at you which you successfully evaded. You turned your head to address your grandfather. “And I’m not your only grandchild. You have a grandson too, you know.”

You nodded toward your brother and your grandfather hardly even blinked at the last sentence. He either didn’t hear you or didn’t care. Proof that he used any and every opportunity to undermine you. Your grandfather scoffed and mumbled to himself gruffly.

You practically heard your father’s eye roll. “Your career is only so fulfilling.”

“Dad, I’m an astrophysicist and a damn good one, I’d like to think. If my career wasn’t fulfilling enough, I’d be seriously questioning all of the time and money I spent at university writing my thesis and graduating top 5 in my year.” You took a bite out of your roll. Why did you have to defend yourself every time you came home? It was exhausting!

“I’m just saying that you aren’t fully happy until you’ve settled down.”You rolled your eyes at your father. You didn’t have the time to focus on your love life. You barely had time to do your studies as it was. Furthermore, no man you had met seemed to like you after finding out you were an astrophysicist. Nobody seemed to click with you well.

“Why do I need more than my career to be fulfilled in life?” You asked seriously.The whole table laughed at your question. Even the kiddie table laughed but it was just hive mind reflex. You certainly did want to get married and have a family someday but you were making a point to your father. Who was he to dictate what made you happy?

“Please, Y/n,” James piped up again, “that’s what lonely people say to feel better about themselves.”

Ouch. That one stung more than you should have let it. You took a drink to keep yourself from letting a tear roll.

“Who ever said that she’s single?” Your sister spoke suddenly. You coughed and sputtered on your drink. Your neck turned to Donna so swiftly that you probably could have snapped it.

“Are you implying that my eldest daughter is dating a boy,” your mother raised her brows at you conspiratorially, “and didn’t tell me? Is it that smart, goofy boy you fancied at university for the longest time?” She couldn’t seem to keep a grin from spreading across her face.You flushed red at her question. Nobody needed to know that. Except now they did because you were, apparently, no longer single. Everybody at the table locked their eyes on you, muttering to each other. You looked at your sister in panic.

“Go on,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before bringing her cup to her lips. “Tell them about your boyfriend.”

Gee thanks… She had just started digging you into a hole.“Wait just a second! Let’s rewind a moment.” James questioned incredulously. “My sister, the stick in the mud astrophysicist, has a boyfriend? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”

“It’s not relevant who I may or-” you looked at your sister pointedly; she fiddled with her fork “-may not be dating.” The fact that James wasn’t buying it was making you quite nervous. You were more offended though than anything. “Is it really so hard to believe that I’d be dating someone?”

“Yes!”

“Believe it, James” Donna insisted, pointing her fork at him. Put down your damn shovel!

“Have you banged him?” Your brother asked in the silence.

You picked up your drink and splashed him in the face. Your mother softly scolded you for your actions but you were completely unapologetic for what James more than deserved. How you shared the same DNA with such a tool was beyond you… 

“That is hardly your business,” you snipped. You turned and stared down Donna. You were going to have to tell them the truth…

“Ok, that’s quite enough,” your mother stopped everything. Oh, thank the Lord. “We’re here to talk about your sister not her boyfriend.” Thank you, mother. “She’ll just have to bring him over for Christmas!”

You stood up from your chair and it scraped along the floor. What had you done…“That’s ridiculous! What if he wants us to spend time with his family for Christmas?” Why were you even going along with this? Why were you defending your hypothetical boyfriend?

“Then you can split the time between the two!”

“What if he doesn’t want to meet you guys yet?” You suggested. This hole is getting awfully big, Y/n. “Meeting parents is a big deal!” The statement came out as more of a question than a defense. You were honestly hoping for one, just one, objection to stick. “I don’t want to scare him off.”

“Who wouldn’t want to meet us?” Your mother asked. You resisted the urge to answer the question.

“Well, what if we’re not even together anymore by that time?”

“Wow, you really can’t hold onto a man for that long, Y/n? It seems to me like you would have been making this whole thing up if you are ‘broken up’ by then.” James finished wiping his face with a napkin after his encounter with your drink. You locked eyes with him. He was onto you.

“I’m not making this up,” you lied. Apparently you hadn’t put down your shovel yet either.“Then bring him home for Christmas,” James challenged. “Otherwise we’ll know it's a lie.”

Your family was on the edge of their seats and, for the time being, the logistics of the challenge didn’t matter. You were fed up with your brother constantly tearing you down. You were tired of your father not being pleased with anything you did. And you were exhausted by your grandfather’s insistence that you were nothing more than a source for great-grandkids. You got no respect at work and you certainly didn’t get any damn respect at home.

And so you did it. You extended your arm toward your stupid brother’s stupid hand and grasped it firmly with a shake.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, brother dearest.”

[{...}]

Eventually the extended family left and you went to your sister’s bedroom since you were sharing the room and the bed for break.

“Why in the bloody hell would you do something like that?!” You lowered your voice so that your family, more specifically James, wouldn’t hear you. Your sister sat on the bed cross-legged, fiddling with the ends of her hair.

“I’m sorry!” Donna yelled. You shushed her as you brushed your hair. “I couldn’t just watch. James crossed a line with that comment. I just wanted to wipe that stupid smile off of his dumb face.”

“Watch your language, why don’t you?” You teased. She rolled her eyes at you. “But I was fine, honestly. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be!” You hissed at Donna to be quiet again. “It was nice for them to shut up for a few moments and see you as a normal human being.”

Your heart was warm but you were in a state of complete panic. “That’s such a sweet sentiment in such a terrible circumstance!” You dug your fingers into your temples and threw yourself onto the bed. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just go up to a guy and say ‘I need you to be my fake boyfriend because my sister dug me into a bloody hole’! You know I can barely get guys to talk to me on a casual basis!” Your voice dropped in volume, no louder than a whisper. “What makes you think that I can get one to play my boyfriend?” You let out a frustrated sigh.

“I honestly did not foresee the consequences of my actions and I am very sorry.”

“Do you think?” You growled to yourself. “Bloody hell… what am I going to do?”

Your sister scratched the back of her neck. “I mean, you have time… It is only October…”

“But I’m going to have to find someone eventually… if I find one.” You gnawed on a fingernail.

“You’ll be fine!” Donna breathed. She curled herself into the blankets next to you. You felt sick to your stomach.

You threw your pencil at your friend and he dodged it while falling to the floor in a fit of laughter, curls bobbing as he went down.

“It’s a fortnight before final exams, Bri!” You were torn between whether you yourself were going to laugh or cry. Your emotions hadn’t decided yet. “And I’ve hardly made any progress on my thesis!” Brian howled in laughter as he continued rolling in the doorway of your dorm. You crossed your arms over your chest and pursed your lips. “Forgive me if I forgot that two plus one is three.”

Brian got his bearings. “I was going to ask you how you were doing but I think that was answer enough.” He stood to his feet and dusted himself off before offering his hand to you. “Come on.”

“What?” You glanced between his outstretched palm and amused face.

“We’re leaving, come on.” Brian walked over and grabbed your hand. He began to pull you out of your chair.

You locked your legs, slamming the brakes on what was happening. “What do you mean ‘we’re leaving’?”

“I mean ‘we’re leaving and I’m taking you off campus to get food because I’m willing to bet that you can’t tell me the last time you ate a proper meal or at least left this cave of a room.”

You gaped, speechless. You honestly couldn't recall. Brian started pulling you along again. “Brian, Brian. Wait!”

He halted again. “What?”

“I can’t leave right now! I have too much to do.” Leaving right now was not a logical use of your time. You had better things to do, like studying, rather than going out for dinner. “I have so many notes to go over and I haven’t finished grading my section’s tests for Professor-”

“I’ll help you grade the tests,” he answered calmly. “Remember, I TA for the sections that you don’t. I’ve finished mine. I can help you with yours.” Brian pulled you away from your desk for a third time.

“I shouldn’t leave. I… I’ll eat when I finish this set of notes.” Your hands still interlocked, you began pulling him back to your desk.

“You’ll feel better after you eat.” Brian walked you toward the door once more. “You won’t be productive if you don’t take a break. You’ll fry your brains.”

You took a deep breath. He was right, you supposed. You relaxed your strained stance and rolled back your shoulders exhaustedly. “Let me grab my shoes.”

[{...}]

Brian took you to a small diner a few miles off campus where you were subsequently seated at a small booth. You looked a mess, of that you were quite certain. But neither you, Brian, nor the wait staff cared.

The moment your plate with a burger, chips, and a pickle slice was placed in front of you, your hunger hit you at full force. For a few minutes, both you and Brian yammed in contented silence.

“Brian,” you spoke through a mouthful of chips. He nodded in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he replied.

As if on cue, the server set down two milkshakes in front of the both of you. You dropped the chip from your fingers and looked at Brian. You felt yourself tear up.

“Are you alright?” He asked with concern as you stared down the glass of cold deliciousness.

“Are you for real, Brian,” you asked, meeting his hazel eyes with your own. You were genuinely touched by the gesture. “My god,” you laughed, “I mean, will you marry me?”

Brian rubbed the back of his neck with a cheeky smile and sighed. “I don’t know. I have a long line of suitors.”

“You took me to get food,” you bargained playfully. “I must be pretty bloody high up, ranking-wise.” You pulled the milkshake toward you and took a drink of the delectable dessert.

“At the very top.”

The two of you ate the rest of your dinner talking and joking about the effects of maths on the human psyche. Immediately after dinner, you and Brian walked around the city. A chance to stretch your legs a bit before returning to your work, he had said.

The city at night with the faintest lights of the stars right behind the skyline was a sight to behold. The people around you bustled and cars honked blissfully ignoring the universe just outside of their own little worlds.

“Our universe is strange, isn’t it,” you said out of the blue. Brian cocked his head at you with his hands shoved in his pockets. “I mean here we are, living, breathing accumulations of stardust and elements of the cosmos, and yet each and every one of us humans is so different. I mean person to person, life is never the same and we find ways to relate to each other and find our way to those who know us best.”

Brian chuckled to himself and playfully nudged you. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re switching to a Literature major, is it? Because that would be utter bollocks.” You threw your head back and laughed. “I’m serious! There’s very few astrophysics majors I can actually talk to. Poor blokes have terrible social skills. I can’t TA on my own either… That would be a nightmare.”

“No, Brian,” you corrected with a lingering giggle, “this is my way of saying that I’m really thankful that the universe made us friends. I’ll have you know, I reckon you’re my best friend actually.” Something about the day was making you feel particularly sentimental.

People didn’t usually take kindly to finding out you were a woman in a science field. Even as a little girl the other girls at school didn’t allow you to play with them and the boys were less than impressed by the fact that you were interested in the same things that they were when they had gone previously unchallenged. High school wasn’t much better.

Not even your family was thrilled by your academic achievements and career choices. You constantly battled them on your choice to pursue your love of space science. You had to fight to be where you were at the university against bigoted professors and even more bigoted classmates.

Brian treated you like you were a classmate of his, female or not. And he had, on more than one occasion, defended your right to be in the astrophysics program. Needless to say, not only was Brian a breath of fresh air but he was your lifeline.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Brian replied. 

“Oh…” You breathed. Your heart panged painfully. That wasn’t exactly what you had expected.

“Because you’re stuck with this curly-haired bloke forever now,” he teased. You laughed in response. That’s all he ever seemed to make you do. “Seriously… is that your final answer?”

“Brian!” You scolded teasingly.

“I’m serious,” he laughed out. “I am really just a blundering idiot behind this modelesque facade.”

“It must be so hard for you,” you said, rolling your eyes.

You tried to drive there on your own once, but you broke into a panic before you could pull out of the driveway. So your mother drove and tried really hard to act like everything was fine. She would play Bruce Springsteen songs on those drives and gush about his music. You used to obsess with her, but your head usually ached too bad to think of anything besides how much it hurt. You knew the headaches would go away if you figured out how to sleep again. But sometimes your daydreams were too nightmarish and you were terrified to fall asleep and let your subconscious take over.

That's why when the faint shriek of sirens grew loud enough to wake you up, you were only frustrated with your imagination. You had finally fallen asleep, for once. But when red and blue lights flooded through your bedroom window, you realized you weren't dreaming. You shot out of bed in a panic and prepared for the worst. A familiar vice tightened around your throat as you crept downstairs to investigate.

Your mother was wearing a vintage silk robe and her hair was frizzy and wild from sleep. She rubbed her eyes and watched you float down the stairs in the same pajamas you'd been living in for some days in a row.

"It's three in the morning. What could possibly-" Your mother wondered, peering past the blinds where the red and blue lights shone brightest. You watched her grow a frown and the vice around your throat tightened ever so slightly.

"What?" You plead to know.

"Mr. Mazzello hasn't been doing so well this month. The ambulance is stopped across the street."

"No." You frowned, scurrying toward the window, hoping you wouldn't see anything but a quiet suburb. But there were indeed cop cars and an ambulance stopped outside your favorite neighbors home. You watched lights turn on inside the living room window, and a sickening regret-filled your stomach.

You had been home for two weeks and hadn't seen the Mazzello family once. You heard Joe's mother stop over one morning and chat with your mother downstairs. You recognized her voice from behind your closed bedroom door, but couldn't bring yourself to leave and face her. So you didn't.

Your mother turned her dusty grey eyes toward you. They were sad and tired.

"Go back to bed. I'm sure things will be alright."

"You shouldn't say things will be alright just because you want them to be." You groaned on your trek up the stairs. Maybe everything would be alright, but it seemed foolish to hope for otherwise, these days.

///

The next morning was worse than the night before. You were the one who opened the front door to a weeping Mrs. Mazzello. She was as beautiful as ever, hair light at the roots, eyes like stars. But you only caught a glimpse of the lady before she threw herself in your arms and proceeded to cry. Of course, you held on to her and tried to unravel your complex feelings- happy to see her again, but terribly afraid of what caused her such grief.

Your own mother appeared and started begging her best friend to explain why she was in such distress. With a deep breath, Mrs. Mazzello shared the news. Her husband didn't make it through the night. After her world started spinning the opposite direction, she was sent home to get some rest. Mrs. Mazzello couldn't imagine going home all on her own and apologized for showing up at your door and causing such a scene. Your mother cried along with her, and try as you might to express the storm inside of your chest, you just couldn't. Joe's father always made sure to invite you to every Halloween party, and every spur of the moment family game night. He was the closest thing you had to a father figure since moving to New York. You never got to tell him hello again, or goodbye. Now, you only sank deeper into the dark pit that had swallowed your heart whole, some weeks ago, searching to claim it once again.

After a cup of tea, and even a few giggle-filled stories, Mrs. Mazzello hugged you again, this time with a smile. You always thought Joe had her smile, the kind that reached his eyes. The kind that made your heart melt a little.

"Sweet girl, I'm so glad you're home." She cooed into your hair as you hugged her back; happy to know she still thought you were sweet, like in high school.

Eventually, you and your mother stood on either side of Mrs. Mazzello and walked her across the street. You helped her inside the old familiar oak front door, and into the living room that hadn't changed much since last time you'd been there. You tried not to look around, strangely afraid of feeling too attached to a home that wasn't yours.

///

You waited in the car of all places, while your mother attended Mr. Mazzello's funeral. Your throat grew tight at the prospect of sitting through a drawn-out goodbye, and even though you were dressed for the occasion, you couldn't move. Your mother wasn't angry. She was almost afraid to leave you alone. But you coxed her inside the funeral while you sat in silence. When folks started leaving, your own self pitty was trumped by regret.

When folks started trickling out of the service, you demanded your mother to follow the procession, instead of taking you home. The cemetery was dusted with snow that melted underfoot. You barely made it onto the greying green before you were reduced to tears of panic. Your mother turned around and suggested you stand and watch from the car, like your own twisted safe zone. You leaned against the cold metal and watched your mother shrink in the distance, to a gathering between to empty branched trees. The late autumn chill reddened your nose and the cold weather became a perfect excuse for the tears you were suppressing and making your eyes all puffy.

The crowd was full of faces you recognized, but couldn't bother contemplating. When the group thinned out you asked your mother to wait while the car heated up, so you could pay your respects in private. There was a cold looking priest and some cemetery workers chatting beyond the freshly dug grave. The headstone was respectable, inscribed with Mr. Mazzello's name. His casket was in your line of sight. Looking at it made your stomach churn, and you wished you would have just stayed home today. You loved Joe's dad, but you weren't ready for another funeral. You were still coping with the last one you'd planned. Your therapist had their work cut out, that was certain.

"I didn't know you were in town."

You knew that voice. It was velvet cutting through the cold. It belonged to Joe. You turned your head toward the sound in near wonder. Joe was there, standing a few feet behind you, sporting a warm looking coat, and red looking eyes.

"Surprise." You barely smiled as you turned to face your old friend all the way. You were bound to see him, but you weren't so sure you recognized the man standing before you. Joe was all grown up, decorated in dark stubble and expensive-looking shoes. Nothing at all like the worn-out pair he ran around in all of senior year.

"You're just a little late." Joe joked. Or... did he? His expression was empty and he made no move to approach you like the friends you once were.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have come here." You realized fully, digging your nails into the sides of your coat you'd been gripping. Your old best friend watched you hurry past him and toward your mother's car. You wanted to turn around to see if he was watching you walk away, but your eyes were fogged with tears.

Your mother parked the car in your very own driveway and made a move to cross the street. The Mazzellos were hosting a dinner party and guests were already headed in with pans of food in hand. But you couldn't do it. You raced inside your own home and locked the door, knowing your mother had a key and that anyone else who tried to disturb you, couldn't.

You took a shower and cried for as long as the water was warm. As the sunset, you lit a few candles and called Tegan. You told her all about the funeral and seeing Joe and when she asked how you felt about it, you couldn't quite tell her. She cursed in Welsh and her raspy tone was music to your ears. You giggled and thanked her for listening. She said nothing was the same without you around. She spoke to you for hours. Tegan begged you to call her once a week and you begged her to bump it up to two or three more times.

///

The next day, your mother was preparing to leave to take photos of a couple's engagement. You were sitting at your writing desk, going through the latest box of knickknacks Tegan had shipped over. Last night's conversation with her was better than all the therapy sessions you'd received in the past three weeks. For once, since Kris died, something in you settled.

You heard the front door creak open downstairs and thought it was strange that your mother wasn't leaving through the garage entry, and without shouting goodbye to you. But then you heard muffled voices and you realized someone else was here. Who could have possibly shown up at eight in the morning on a weekday?

Then you heard heavy footsteps taking your staircase two at a time, and before you could worry over what was happening, Joe was standing in your bedroom doorway. He was dressed in joggers and his auburn hair was mused like he'd just woken up and bolted across the street to your door.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Joe asked you, his luminescent eyes were wide below two furrowed brows. The second time you laid eyes on your friend of too many years to count, you still couldn't believe how much he'd changed since last you really truly saw him.

To make matters worse, you really couldn't be sure of exactly what Joe was talking about as you stood from your desk to face him. Was he wondering about your homecoming, or had he found out the reason for it?

"Why didn't I tell you what, Joe? Yesterday didn't seem like the time for twenty questions."

He only responded by rolling his eyes and clenching his jaw all while stepping further into your room. You trade places with Joe, shutting the door as your stomach churned.

"Shit, I'm sorry." You sighed, afraid that bringing up yesterday might be crossing some kind of line. Since when were there boundaries between you and Joe?

"It's okay, it's..." Joe breathed after a moment, casting his eyes around your room that had barely changed since highschool. He'd spent many nights helping you build forts out of the blankets still decorating your bed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Joe asked one more time. The sorry timbre of his voice was hint enough to what he was really asking.

"I tried." You shrugged, shifting a little closer to your old friend. You'd called Joe the morning after you found out Kris died. You called him before you called your mother. He never returned the missed connection.

Now, Joe's brows were pushed together and the look in his eyes seemed nearly unrecognizable, and that pushed you over the edge.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, and everything else. Can we just like, be friends again?" You plead all of a sudden. You weren't sure you ever stopped being friends in the first place, but you'd certainly drifted far from the bond you once had.

Joe just barely grinned. And then you watched as he seemed to relax completely, you could almost see the weight being lifted from his shoulders as he stepped closer to wrap you in a hug. His embrace was warm and familiar. You hadn't felt such peace in months, maybe years if you were being honest with yourself. Joe was back on your side.

"I'm sorry too. It's been weird." Joe kept his comforting latch on you as he mumbled into your hair.

"I know. You can hang around here, if you want." You reminded as you pulled away. Joe was smiling for the first time since your reunion. It was a real, gentle and genuine expression.

"Are you sure? You can finish whatever you were doing before I came over to yell at you." Joe nodded toward the box on your desk with a little laugh.

"Oh, God no." You glanced toward the shipment of your leftover Welsh memories. Unpacking them fell to the bottom of your to-do list, all of a sudden. "You came here just to yell at me, huh?" You smirked at your friend.

"No. I came over because we have a  lot of time to make up for." Joe handed out a loaded statement. But said so with a little half-smile. So you opened your bedroom door and made a show of gesturing he follow you downstairs. Your mother was slinging her camera bag over her shoulder and sliding into a pair of strappy sandals. Her grey eye's lit up when she noticed you and Joe descending the staircase together.

"Well, I've got to run. I should be home by lunch."

"I'll make something." You shrugged, suggesting a change of pace. You hadn't done much of anything besides sulk since you landed back in the states. And you were seriously craving lentil soup. Your mother shot you a suspicious smile as she reached for her car keys and nodded your way.

"Have a good day, kids." Your mother waved as she hurried off to her job as the best damn wedding (now engagement) photographer in the whole state. Joe gave your mother a pleasant goodbye as she shut the door and left you alone with your best friend for the first time since God knows when.

"Sit,  I'll make some coffee." You pointed Joe toward the living room as you shuffled toward the kitchen. Joe followed orders, and you lingered near the coffee maker, finding clean mugs in the dishwasher and putting some other glasses away while the coffee pot filled up.  You made Joe's coffee the way he always used to like it and started toward the living room to offer him the drink.

You rounded the corner to find Joe comfortable curled up against an old decorative pillow, asleep. He must have been exhausted from all the family business he'd been dealing with. You abandon the mug of coffee on the table near the sofa, for when he woke up. And before you left the living room, you watched Joe laying there, seemingly content, breathing deeply. And for just one moment, you felt fine. You didn't feel like you used to; like a highschool kid. You felt like your boyfriend was dead, and so was Joe's dad, but that it was alright because Joe was still right next to you. The things that we're okay right now balanced out the worry that they wouldn't always be.

Joe stayed just like that for the next couple of hours, so you went about your day like normal. Putting the rest of the dishes away, sipping your coffee, and folding a bit of laundry. You were sat at the kitchen table with a new book in hand when Joe finally woke up.

"Hey, thanks." He noted, walking into the room with his old cup of coffee. Just then the dull thrum of a blasted radio and the sounds of car doors slamming in the distance were unmistakably coming from across the street- Joe's house.

"Should you be over there?" You wondered, shutting your book as Joe moved to put his mug in your microwave.

"It's actually nice to uh, not have to worry about all of that for a minute." Joe cast his eyes around the room and you understood what he meant. Living in Kris's house with the knowledge that he was never coming back through the door again was worse than waiting up when he disappeared for days on end.

"Well, you can hide out here for as long as you want." Everything was normal again. He grinned while the microwave counted down seconds.

"Sorry for falling asleep. What'd I miss?" Joe chuckled lightly.

"Uh..." You let out a breath of a laugh, a thousand memories from the past few years hitting you like a wave. But certainly, that wasn't what Joe was asking, now. "Not much." You responded because everything you'd done while he napped, wasn't worth mentioning.

Your friend with tired eyes seemed to consider your answer, and then the microwave beeped. Joe's mug was steaming as he carried it over to the table. He eased into the seat next to you as you raised your own mug to your lips. Joe had yet to look at you, his jungle toned eyes focused on the patterns of your dining table. But after a quiet moment, Joe raised his eyes to look right at yours.

"What happened?" Joe dared to whisper. You watched his eyes stay glued on yours and felt sorry for letting too much time pass. You knew exactly what Joe wanted to know, so you sat your mug to the side and thought for a moment before speaking up...

"He was drinking and driving." You started easily. You had talked through this with your mother, and Tegan, and therapist. The latter helped you sort out your mourning Kris, but there were still scattered fears of driving cars and falling asleep you had to sort through. But side effects aside, it didn't hurt so much to recount the outlines of what happened. And oddly, you still felt security spilling your guts to Joe. You both kept your focus on each other as you went on filling in blanks

"Things were really bad. I mean before, with Kris and I. It doesn't matter why they just were. He was never home and he was always drinking. Then... he died. So... I guess that's the short version of what happened." You sighed emptily. The fights and the misunderstandings and the late nights, all built up and up until they crashed over a bridge with Kris. Now you were here. Joe cast his troubled gaze back toward the table, while his fingers tightened around his coffee mug handle.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You wondered. About his dad. About how he was feeling.

"I'm sorry I never called you back." Joe looked up again. Sure, it had been a while, but you were together again, weren't you? These long faces of his were making you a little too sad.

"Why don't you make it up to me by staying for lunch?" You grinned. Joe did too, nodding in agreeance. The two of you spent the next hour scrolling through Pinterest to find the most exciting recipes you had enough ingredients for. Then you made plans to make dessert. It was like once you started you couldn't stop, planing for soup and bread and even an apple fucking pie.

Joe helped you bake, spinning around your kitchen because he already knew where you kept most things. As you stood cutting up apples at the counter, conversation about kitchenware lulled and you couldn't go on any longer without asking what Joe had been up to, all this time.

"What were you working on in London, anyway?" You asked, a little embarrassed to be so far outside of the loop. Your friend was leaning against the counter at your side, watching you work.

"Bohemian Rhapsody." Joe shrugged, stealing a bit of chopped up apple as you went on cutting.

"Like the Queen song?" You wondered, a bit confused.

"Yeah, like the Queen movie, now. I landed a roll in the biopic."

"Joe. Holy shit." You rested your knife and turned to face him head-on. That was a big name drop. He really was living his dream, huh? Joe was holding back a cocky smirk as he stole another bit of apple from the board at your side.

"Starting right now," You chucked as you reached for the knife. "we're telling each other things again." You pointed the utensil near him like you meant business.

"Whoa, I surrender... and agree." Joe laughed, moving out of the way as you reached for a big bowl. Your afternoon faded into a mess of home-baked goods and stories you'd been meaning to tell each other. Yours were silly ones about missing the bus and making friends with a stray cat who showed up at your door every night for a year or two.

But Joe's news was far more enchanting. He simply gushed over his newest castmates, and the members of Queen he was lucky enough to meet. As your apple pie baked, and you started to make soup, you began to realize the extent of Joe's career. He rambled about leaving soon for the premiere of his new movie. You realized he wasn't going to be around like he used to be. Like always. So you listened more intently to what he had to say like maybe this was the big finale of your friendship where you got to tie up all your loose ends and move on. You didn't want to move on. You wanted to move through this shit together. But you knew that was selfish and you knew Joe had a life to get back to, one that didn't include keeping you any sort of company.

Your mother nearly fell to her knees when she came home to find the feast you made, waiting on the stove while you laughed in the living room with Joe. You insisted he tell you everything he'd been up too, genuinely afraid this day was a one-off chance you'd never have with Joe again. You all ate lunch to the tune of his most hilarious stories, and Joe even helped clean up, while your mother complained about her day and the traffic.

"Well, I'm off to London." Joe laughed like he was kidding, but he wasn't. "The U.S premiere is like twelve days away. You know, I can put your name on the list." Joe shrugged as you walked him to the door. The sun was low in the sky, and his flight for the UK premiere was leaving tomorrow afternoon.

You figured he'd just offered out of politeness, as a way to trade thanks for this strange easy going day. But no matter your friend's motive, there was no way you'd be able to prance through the city and mingle with his superstar friends. You barely made it out your front door in weeks.

"Thank you, Joe. But I don't think I'm ready for all that. I hope you have a safe flight and a fun time, though."  You nodded softly, really wishing him well. Joe deserved every good thing.

"I guess I won't be seeing you till Christmas Eve, then." If you hadn't been so caught off guard by his comment, you would have noticed Joe pout a little.

"Christmas Eve?"

"Duh. Same time and place as always. Right across the street." Joe chuckled lightly. "You'll always be invited. I'm just glad your home to finally start showing up, again." Joe shoved his hands in his pockets and bumped his elbow against yours as he joked.

"Yeah, okay... I guess I'll see you across the street on Christmas Eve, then." You smiled softly as Joe reached for the front door. He lingered in the doorway, telling you goodbye one final time, and you stood there watching him jog across the street, spinning around to flash his smile your way. The kind of smile that reached his eyes and melted your heart just a little. You could have easily settled back into spending every waking hour with Joe. Even after spending all day with him, it seemed like you'd hardly caught up at all. Funny how you'd been fully prepared for him to leave with a halfhearted thanks and a vague goodbye until further, distant notice. Christmas was a couple of months away, but now you had a reason to look forward to it.

Lucy had fallen for her leading man, sometime last month. And it was high time you met the guy who'd been stealing away so much of your dear friends time. The trouble was, Lucy always tried to leave her work behind when the two of you got together. So, tonight was a big deal. Especially considering the rest of the crew of men who Lucy had grown close with were joining you, tonight.

Three statuesque men scattered around a high top table, in the modern wooden pub. Rami must have recognized Lucy's commotion as he stood up to greet the pair of you.

"You're here!" His voice was thick and warm and intimidating, even as he spoke with glee. The dark-headed fellow scooped Lucy into a short and sweet embrace before they both turned to look at you.

"Y/n, Rami." She beamed, holding out her lily-white hand to grab a hold of yours.

"I'm so glad you could join us. I feel like I already know you." Rami gleamed your way.

"And I, you." You pursed your lips into a coy grin, giving Lucy a look out of the corner of your eye. She was practically a live wire, beaming a smile that made her eyes sparkle.

"Well, come meet everyone else!" Rami held out his arm as you and Lucy followed behind the lad to step closer to the table full of charming men.

"Boys, the girls are here! This is Gwilym." Rami pulled out a chair, guiding you to sit next to a tall man with a face like a Greek god. His blue eyes glistened and he smiled right at you as you settled next to him. Lucy hopped into the seat on your left, pointing across the table to another pretty blonde.

"This is Ben," She mentioned, and the guy with the look of a Roman empire greeted you warmly.

"Joe is late, of course." Rami waved a hand at you, across from Lucy as Ben chuckled at his side.

And right in alarming time, a man waltzed up to the table breezing past everyone in a flourish.

"Fashionably late." The slender man with a closed mouth smile winked at Rami and moved to the empty seat across from Gwilym.

"And that's our Joe," Lucy chirped, giving you a look like she had so much more to say.

Even in your best efforts to prepare for such an evening as this, you felt winded by the introductions alone.

"Alright, everyone shut up so I can go on and on about my best friend!"

"Lucy-" You chided with a roll of your eyes. God, you loved her but you were not cut out to be paid close attention too.

"Oh, Luc, please. You know I don't like that sort of spotlight." Joe rang in some transatlantic accent from the end of the table, resting his chin on the heel of his hand as he gave Lucy a wink. He smiled a real smile then, and it was something of a spectacle to witness his features twinkle to life. He was the prettiest of the whole lot. And that was really saying something.

"While I do love you, Joe, I'm about to tell you why you'll all be wise to kiss the ground Y/N walks upon!" Lucy decreed. Before you had a moment shut her down, she was already speaking up again...

"She'd probably kill for me, and I'd probably ask her too, starting with your smart ass." Lucy playfully snapped at Joe who let a sheen of disgusted shock morph his expression. You found he was still attractive even when he looked like a hurt puppy.

"She can cook, she can sing, and she's smoking hot so, proceed with caution boys."

"Okay." You gave your friend a dismissive smile. The boys chattered in at once, all comments directed at Lucy's dramatic speech.

"You should know she talks about you like this when you're not around, too," Rami spoke up from the opposite side of the table. Most boys broke off into separate conversations while you leaned over the table to share your favorite facts about Lucy with her new beau. Somewhere along the way, you had Rami cracking up, catching his breath through choked laughs all the way until the end of your story sharing session. Lucy had to order for the both of you when the time came, as you'd been reduced to tears from all the laughter.

Rami left for the restroom soon after you'd both found composure, and Gwilym disappeared to make a phone call by chance. Joe took that opportunity to trade places, easing into the empty chair next to you like some kind of juvenile Romeo.

"Excuse me, your highness, we need to talk about this whole best friend thing." Joe was sipping some fruity drink from a straw, looking up to you through his long lashes. You'd be lying if you didn't have to take a beat to soak up the look in his dark eyes before you answered.

"What's there to talk about?" You countered, leaning a little closer toward Lucy.

"What's her favorite color?" He shrugged, looking to you through the side of his face.

"Oh, I don't think you're ready to play this game." You pointed toward Joe. Maybe it's because he and Lucy really were close, but something about Joe was already familiar to you. Not at all like you'd just met him. There was something in his persistence gaze that you recognized. Lucy watched on in utter amazement as you and Joe darted through the challenge of who knew her best. Favorite foods, songs she sang in the shower, her middle name.

"Okay... if Lucy had a dog what would she name it?" You doubled down, leaning in to stare right at the guy. Joe was watching you with a coy little grin that flickered a little brighter each time he got an answer right. And he hadn't gotten one wrong... yet.

"Uh..." Joe paused, watching you inch closer, searching your face as if you'd somehow be giving the answer away. "Maybe... uh... Bertha?" Joe tore his gaze from you to flash a hopeful look to Lucy.

"Bertha?" She stifled a laugh. "Joe. first of all, it's a trick question." Your best friend pointed knowingly. "I'd pick a cat over a dog. And its name sure as hell wouldn't be Bertha."

Joe pouted, bottom lip sticking out like a toddler. Lucy decided there was only one way Joe could come back from crashing and burning so severely in the best friend pop quiz. "Both of you go to the bar and order me a drink. The one I like better will be dubbed the winner of my heart and soul."

Joe's smile spread like a wildfire across his face, as he looked to you and cocked his head toward the bar. Oh, it was on. Lucy liked simple drinks, none of that syrup saturated shit. It was one of the first commonalities you bonded over with the girl. You practically raced Joe to the bar, trying not to stare as he hurried ahead of you. He was dressed in sharp bold colors and his figure was perfectly lean. The tired looking bartended gestured your way as you approached the bar, and Joe went first, seeming rather confident.

"Manhattan?" Joe asked, almost like he was wondering if the bartender would know Lucy's preference and approve of his choice. Good one.

"Uh, Sidecar." You decided on the spot, knowing it was something your friend had ordered a time or two. As the bartender turned around to mix your drinks, Rami appeared from the restroom and stopped next to Joe at the bar.

"Oh, please don't make this poor girl try that horrible drink you made up and forced us to try last night."

"Okay, first of all, how dare you." Joe pointed to his friend. Rami looked like he had seen some shit, and you had to chuckle under your breath wondering what Joe subjected everyone too.

"It was bourbon and tabasco sauce." Joe turned to you with a raise oh his thin brow.

"And he tried to add lime juice, like that was going to make it better." Rami waved his hands around, seemingly amazed he'd made it out of the situation alive. Your chortles had blown into laughter by now as Joe sulked in defeat.

"Do you hate your friends, Joe?" You teased, crossing your arms to your chest as the fellow rolled his eyes at you. Your drinks had been finished then; so there wasn't time to feel embarrassed by the way your breath caught in your throat, as Joe failed to think up a comeback and just bit his lower lip through a smile, shaking his head at you.

You settled back into your seats, and Joe stayed at your side since Gwilym seemed to linger outside the nearest window, chatting on the phone.

"Pick your poison." You turned to Lucy as you and Joe slid her drink orders before her. She hummed in consideration, shooting you a smirk as she reached for the Sidecar.

"Oh, come on!" Joe whined.

"Sorry dear," Lucy said, taking a sip of the drink she chose. "I like this better." Your best friend shrugged, taking another drink.

"But this is my favorite." You grinned, pinching the rim of the Manhattan and pulling the glass in front of you. Joe watched as you lifted the drink he ordered to your lips. You really did like it. And you especially liked the way Lucy's runner up best friend was piercing his gaze into yours.

The night moved on in a flurry of laughter and shared gazes. Gwilym shared his leftovers with you, and Ben insisted you come to his housewarming party over the weekend. You left arm in arm with your very best friend, but you found yourself thinking of Joe.

///

That's how it started.

Every time you saw Joe after that initial meeting was a collection of snowflake-like moments that lead up to an unpredictable avalanche.

The next time you saw the gang was when Lucy fetched you to attend Ben's housewarming. The pair of you danced around his new lush green garden while her other castmates slowly arrived to join the party, practically ignoring other random attendees for a while. Then, Ben, Gwil, Rami, and Lucy all went wild, telling stories to Ben's new neighbors and filling everyone drinks. You, somehow, ended up next to Joe on a patio swing set. The pair of you pointed to the strangers that scattered across Ben's new lawn and made up backstories on their behalf. Somehow, this translated to you and Joe trading your own stories. By the end of that afternoon, you and Joe knew each other high school prom dates and your least favorite parts of growing up.

You went home as an official member of the group chat, via Ben's excitable request.

///

The group chat was the source of every interaction between any number of you from then on out. It was where Ben invited everyone over to meet his new puppy, Frankie, with pictures to prove how sweet she was. A pile of wrinkles, pictured perfectly asleep in the actor's lap.

You drove twenty to Ben's home and Joe answered the door. He kept looking at you like he had a secret to pass on. Like there was something he thought you already knew and should have been mentioning. Regardless of the funny feeling you got when his forest toned eyes focused on yours, you took shots with all his friends and went about fawning over Frankie, like that was your only excuse for being there.

Then, there was the impromptu movie night at Gwilyms. He'd come to possess a VHS player and a copy of the Titanic and was desperate to know if it still worked. The film would pause every thirty minutes while black and white banners flashed across the screen. But watched on, you did. Everyone was hypnotized to sleep by the warbled recording, slowly, one after another, until it was just you and Joe. He sat next to you on Gwil’s sofa, and as you felt your eyes start to droop, another sensation stalled your slumber. Joe's hand had just barely nudged closer to yours. Almost like an accident. Like he'd moved in his sleep. But you cracked one eye open and noticed Joe was still focused on the movie screen. His hand stayed brushed against yours. It was just a couple of knuckles against your own. But it was a burning foreshadowing of a wish you didn't realize had been scratching below your subconscious until now. You drifted to sleep wondering if you'd been dreaming all along.

///

Next, there was a trip to the roller rink, at Rami's request. He held his own in a pair of skates and you figured he'd just wanted to show off. But in his typical, humble fashion, Rami patiently helped Lucy and Gwil learn to roll around the rink with ease. Then there was Joe, who made quite the show of turning his struggled flailing into dance moves. You caught moments of this on camera and posted it to your Instagram story, saying it was blackmail. But really, you just wanted something featuring Joe to look back on when he wasn't close by.

Joe heart reacted to the notification in your DMs that informed him he'd been tagged, and reposted your story his own, with the caption: "If you don't tell anyone its a dance battle, you'll win every time."

There was the time Ben invited everyone to a wine tasting, where you caught more of Joe's tipsy dance moves for your Instagram story. He danced slyly closer your way, as your friends galloped around the gift shop in their own wine-filled hazes. You swore Joe almost kissed you then. He stopped dancing and leaned against the wall you'd been admiring him from. His jungle eyes zeroed in on yours as you suppressed a nervous giggle. When Joe's gaze landed on your lips, Gwil came around the corner with pairs of matching sunglasses he demanded everyone try on. You decided that must have been a part of Joe's imaginary production. A way to get you a little flustered for the hell of it. You decided he'd had one too many complimentary sips of wine.

Then there was mini golf. The final fleck of frozen rain that caused your metaphorical avalanche to topple over in a way you never expected...

///

Joe: Mini golf tomorrow? Here's a link to the place...

Gwilym: I have a fashion show :/

Lucy: Maybe! What time?

Ben: Oh it's ON!

Y/n: Sounds fun to me.

And just like that, you had something to look forward to again. Joe set the time and date and threatened Ben to prepare to battle to the death.

You soared through your workday without a care and checked your phone on the way out to your car.

Lucy: Rami's brother just landed town, I forgot. I'm sorry to cancel last minute!

You missed Lucy. You had barely spent a single moment of one on one time since she introduced you to the boys. To her boy. But you knew Rami was her priority now. You admired how seriously she'd taken her relationship with him and sent a message back wishing her well in her boyfriend's familial affairs.

You raced home to change into something more appropriate. A nice flannel to protect you from the chill of the night since it wasn't quite summering yet.

Then when you checked the time and hurried back to your car, it wouldn't start. You didn't have time to worry about why, or try and fix it yourself. You just ordered an Uber and told yourself you'd deal with it after tonight's fun and games.

Ben was lingering outside the novelty put-put place, illuminated by the blue glow of his phone screen.

"Hey, my car wouldn't start." You shrugged as Ben shot you a curious glance, noticing the SUV you'd hopped out the back of.

"Oh, man. Sorry about that." The stunning blonde pouted, clicking his phone to lock before sliding it into his pocket.

"Party people!" The shout was heard across the sparse parking lot, and it undeniably belonged to Joe Mazzello. He walked toward you and Ben with a smile plastered on his face. He was alive with confidence and excitement, even at the prospect of playing a kid game with his friends.

"Alright listen." Ben countered like a tired coach. "I might have to leave early. If Chris Evans doesn't show up for an audition I'm the only other one on the callback sheet." Ben huffed. Oh, to have such worries.

"Okay, Casanova. Then we better kick this game night into gear." Joe placed either of his hands on Ben's shoulders and shoved him toward the line of families waiting to get in the place. Ben kept fretting over his pending audition, saying that if he scored the part, that he'd have to send Frankie to live with his parents and they'd fall in love with her and she'd never come back home. He hadn't even landed the roll yet, and he was in shambles of worry over the one con that seemed to outweigh the pros of living his dream.

"Ben I live like twenty minutes away. I can watch Frankie if you leave town." You shrugged. You cared for Ben, and you adored his darling puppy.

"You'd really do that?" Ben croaked, nearly moved to tears by your simple offer.

"I'd fly across the world for Frankie if someone wasn't so eager to land the job." Joe's elbow bumped into your side then, in just enough time to make your heart skip a beat. Ben murmured a thousand thank you's as the line slowly moved. As you waited behind a couple of middle schoolers and a family with three toddlers, loudspeakers crackled to life with Whitney Houston's I Wanna Dance With Somebody.

The speakers echoed into the parking lot, and the tune would have made you think of Joe even if he wasn't beside you, starting to shift his shoulders to the beat of the song. You knew what you had to do. As Whitney's song crept toward the chorus, Joe added more gusto into his dance moves, and you unearthed your phone from your pocket to capture the moment on your Instagram story. Joe lip-synced along to the chorus as he broke out the show choir dance moves and Ben cackled in the background.

"Next!" Some prepubescent voice croaked from behind the mini-golf ticket both. Joe's attention was torn from his dance break and you caught his shocked disappointment the moment just before the recording ended. Ben cackled with laughter as Joe sulked toward the ticket booth. He bought all of your bracelets that allowed your admission and you grinned gratefully to the guy before racing him to go choose a putter and a golf ball.

Ben was blue, you were orange and Joe was yellow. You kept getting stalled behind little kids, some who seemed to be trying their best, others, who reminded you of Joe- unabashedly enjoying whatever happened and making the most ridiculously enjoyable use of their time. You watched as he and Ben got into an argument over how to keep score, and laughed when Joe tried to mess Ben's shot up. You held your own, barely caring about how well you did, just enjoying the crisp air and the laughter of your pals- one in particular.

"We should get something to eat after." Joe shrugged. You'd ended up on hole seventeen and could see the final hole ahead of you. The jungle-themed play place was buzzing with kids of all ages, but you'd dared to believe you Ben and Joe were having the most fun.

"Yeah! I'm starving." You pipped up, stepping around Joe as he went to retrieve the golf ball he hit into the bushes. You skipped dinner to make it here in time.

"You down to mukbang, Ben?" Joe wondered, stepping back onto the green of the hole seventeen. Ben had pulled his phone out of his pocket and was staring down in a daze.

"Chris Evans backed out..." he murmured in his low tone, reading from the screen.

"Chris Evans back out!" He spoke up once again, turning his stary eyes to you and Joe.

"Get out of here, Ben!" You encouraged, pointing toward the exit, now in the distant view.

"Oh guys, I'm sorry." Ben scrambled to collect his golf ball and putter and Joe encourage his friend to hurry.

"Break a leg babe!" Joe chirped merrily as Ben started to jog away. "Run Ben! Run faster than Captain America!" Joe let his voice carry across the mini-golf field as families turned their heads toward you, and Ben hurried out, throwing his head back with laughter.

"At least we're basically done." You shrugged, watching Ben disappear behind the shack where you left your golfing equipment. You were alone with Joe now, like, really alone for the first time.

"Yeah," Joe seemed to realize, looking ahead at the eighteenth hole, where a group of little kids struggled to play the game. "We could like, quit and go get something to eat." Joe looked to you, raising his brows with the suggestion.

"Still? Even though Ben left?" You wondered. Joe had no reason to want to spend one on one time with you, as enticing as the thought was to you.

"Yeah, you said you were hungry, come on." He decided, stealing your putter and racing past hole eighteen. You laughed and hurried to follow him.

Joe had already disposed of your equipment by the time you'd met up at the exit doors.

"Where do you wanna go?" You jogged, following him out into the bare parking lot. "Oh shit." You realized. Joe shot you a curious glance as you stalled in place, remembering your ride here.

"I totally forgot. I got a uber here. My car wouldn't start." You frowned, thinking that the night had just come to an end due to your vehicular impairment.

"While I don't mind escorting you to a five-star dining experience, there is a pizza place across the street," Joe pointed. "And it looks like heaven."

The neon sign was flickering and the checkered awning was tattered. "Okay fine." You chuckled, following him across the one-way street.

Then, as he held to door open for a young mother and her warbling baby, it hit you. Joe was just being nice. He was that guy. He went out of his way to pour strangers an extra shot of whiskey at his best friends house warming party. He held doors open for mothers carrying babies. He escorted you to this pizza place just because you said you were hungry. He was just kind-hearted by nature, and that's when you realized you had it all wrong. Till now, you'd mistaken Joe's lingering eye contact on you as intentional. You realized that the one time his knuckles brushed against yours was a simple accident. If Joe wanted to kiss you, like you were so sure he nearly did at the vineyard, he would have by now. He was only ever kind to you because that's who he was. That guy. You couldn't possibly face your horrible delusion by letting him know you'd been dreaming of more. Oh, shit.

Joe held the door open for you, as a couple of bells rang from the handle. You wouldn't let your self search for his eye contact not now. You just smiled and kept walking toward a booth in the back.

Joe eased into the booth across from you and spent a very short time figuring out what to order, deciding to split a margarita pizza. Okay, you thought. Just look up, and don't think about it. Just be normal. When you finally locked eyes with Joe, you found he'd already had a steadied a sleepy gaze on you. Your stomach flipped so violently you had to wonder if he noticed, somehow.

"So the Bo Rhap wrap party is tomorrow night." Joe pointed, searching your eyes as you looked right into his, trying to suppress the butterflies that multiplied in your guts. "You should come! I can pick you up if your car won't start. Hell, even if it will."

Joe rose a brow your way when a waiter brought you each plastic red tumblers full of soda. He sipped his drink, his eyes peering up at you through fluttering lashes.

He's just being nice. You mentally cursed. You wound up alone, and he was only trying to make sure you didn't feel out of place, because he was that guy. Your heart was doing somersaults and your mind was racing, each conclusion coming back to Joe. You had been and currently were head over heels for Joe Mazzello.

"Yeah okay." You nodded shyly, hoping to God your voice wouldn't be faulted as you sat coming to terms with your feelings. You could pull yourself together, before falling too deep, right? Couldn't you accept his kind-hearted invitations?  Couldn't you keep watching from the sidelines as Joe dance alone at parties? You could live with those blips of heaven on earth, right?

While you waited for your pizza Joe started to gush over his family. How much he missed them and how he simply couldn't wait to return home after all this time. And at the mere mention of Joe being so distant, your heart sunk to the floor. Oh no, you were in a very dangerous way.

"You good?" Joe pointed. You had rested your temple on your hand, propped against the table like a student exhausted by homework. Your mind had yet to stop filling in answers to questions that appeared in droves.

"Huh? Oh yeah, just a little tired I guess." You decided. A better excuse than give the truth away. "Oh don't mind me I'm just trying not to fall for you. Just trying not to ruin this random lucky moment."

"I know it was probably exhausting to lose so hard at mini-golf," Joe smirked at you.

A chuckle escaped your throat but your heart felt as if it might pop. What were you supposed to do? Your pizza came and conversation died out while you picked around pieces. Every passing minute felt like the count down to a life-altering game show. Joe must have noticed how quiet your internal battle made you.

"You sure you good? If you need-

"Uhm, actually," You decided in a flash. "I think I better head home now." You pulled your phone out and order the closest Uber while you spoke. Two minutes away.

"I can take you. You don't have to pay."

"No, Joe. It's fine really." You scrunched your brows together like a weak apology. "I... I need a bit of space anyway. Thank you... for tonight, for everything." You stood in a hurry to leave, feeling conflicted but listening to the panicked voice in your head calling you to go. You shelled out a few pounds to cover the pizza and booked it out of the place.

On the ride home, you posted the video of Joe dancing to Whitney Houston, with the caption: "never a dull moment."

You admired the clip on loop, studying every way Joe managed to make you laugh with a turn of his lips or a perfectly timed flail.

By the time you got home with a much steadier heartbeat, you wondered if you were too quick to run off. You didn't quite feel the need to apologize, but something deep within you took control of your fingers and made you text Joe.

You: Seriously, thanks for the fun night, Joe!

You were grateful to have been invited along to join in the fun. But you knew it was best to take a step back and solve your feelings before they got the better of you. Still, you couldn't fucking resist taking one last stab at pulling a bit of Joe's attention toward you. Pathetic.

Later that night as you slipped into bed, Joe had responded to your text. All he said was,

Joe:  :)

Then you just had to check your Instagram. Joe had always heart reacted to the notification in DM's when it showed you'd tagged him in a story. Tonight was different. Joe had opened the DM, but hadn't liked the notification. Nor had he reposted the video.

You did tell Joe you needed a bit of space. But as you started to fall asleep, you wondered if you'd royally fucked everything up by your efforts to keep things steady...

///

The next day was torture. Absolutely agony. You spent silent breakfast avoiding all motivations, and lunchtime pouting when none from Joe appeared. The wrap party was tonight. He invited you. You said yes. But that was before you left the pizza place in a rush. And you'd still never called off those loosely made plans.

So around dusk, you hovered over Joe's name in the contact list, wondering if you should send another text. The thought seemed all too desperate. Asking if your plans were still on was exactly the kind of behavior you were trying not to succumb to. So you waited a little while longer.

But as the sun dipped below the horizon, your heart seemed to fade with the light. Was it wrong to be sad? You wanted space. You needed space. But just from Joe. Just from your feelings. Just time to figure out how to stop your thoughts of Joe from whirring into romanticism.

///

"It's midnight! where the hell were you? I thought you were coming!" Lucy stood in your doorway wearing a sequined party dress, and big worried cartoon eyes.

You sulked in your pajamas, gawking in disbelief to your friend who was concerned enough to come knocking on your door without calling first.

"Come in." You shrugged, almost nervously. Lucy had come to track you down. She must have been expecting to see you tonight. You must have let her down.

"You were supposed to be at the party! Didn't Joe invite you last night?" Lucy fretted, sashaying behind you, kicking off her heels as you lead her to your living room.

"Last night was weird. I haven't heard from him since." You revealed,  the pair of flopping onto your patterned loveseat.

"Joe made a really big deal over asking you to the party." Lucy eased, wringing her hands and looking to you as she tried to understand why you hadn't shown up. "I just got worried when I hadn't heard from you at all today."

"He did... ask me." You sighed, slinking into the sofa and wishing it would swallow you whole. Your feelings felt so minuscule now, in the brink of explaining them to your best friend. This all felt too much like a low budget high school rom-com.

But Lucy eventually begged you to tell her what was going on. So, you gave her a play by play of what had been on your mind the past couple weeks. You told her how you felt about Joe. And exactly when you realized it. You told her how you could never stop thinking of him, even when your mind went blank, it always came back around to Joe. You told her how it scared you to feel that way and why you left Joe alone in the pizza place. You wanted space to figure your feelings out, but how maybe you'd only made things worse. How maybe his leaving you hanging tonight must have been payback for your basically ghosting him, last.

"Well, I'll talk to him, love." Lucy decided like a mother after you'd spilled your guts.

"No, you don't need to do that." You chuckle remorsefully. "If we were supposed to like... ya know... we would have by now." If he really meant to hold your hand he would have. If he really meant to kiss you, he would have. But he didn't.

Lucy just gave you a purse-lipped grin before standing to make hot cocoa. She rummaged through your cabinets as if they were her own and you loaned her a pair of pajamas you knew you'd never get back, because who wanted to lounge around giggling at Parks in Rec in a ball gown?

Lucy fell asleep on your sofa in your clothes while you suppressed thoughts of her stupid, pretty, friend.

///

Two and a half weeks passed until you saw Lucy again. Bohemian Rhapsody was finished being filmed, and everyone had gone their separate ways.

Lucy was always busy, but she invited you to help pack her things for a trip to America, where she'd be staying with Rami for the first time. The pair of you left each other with long faces but how could you not be excited for your friend, on her way to mingle with the future. To build her life alongside someone who adored her the way she deserved to be adored.

You spent the next week desperately alone, your only company being the characters on the telly. Till your phone rang at the break of dawn, tearing you from sleep.

"Y/n!"

"Joe?" You worried over his random call, and the alarming tone if his voice.

"Y/n, I'm in New York and it's not right," Joe whined like a boy. He was well and truly drunk, you didn't even have to ask. Chatter clouded the background of his call and he was still mewling pathetically as you proceeded it all.

"Why are you calling me?" You wondered honestly. If he was all the way in as New York, and as hammered as he sounded, you were no use.

"Because... Because..." Joe sounded as if he were trying to pick between one answer or another. "I miss my friends." He decided in a slur.

"Uh-huh." You croaked, gazing out your darkened window as this bizarre interaction went on. You could hang up...

"See, I miss everyone so much. And I'm no good all on my own. I don't know what to do now. What's my job now?" Joe let a little hiccup escape his throat and somewhere between his incoherent rambles you felt anger bubble within you. Joe had everything. He had a contact list full of friends, and endless options of fun to have. But he'd called you.

"Your job is to smile, Joe. For the cameras and for pretty girls. New York is no different than London."

"Yeah." Joe seemed to agree. "But Lucy said..."

"Lucy?" You realized, all of a sudden. Of course. She'd totally put Joe up to calling you, and saying something. And you knew the girl had only done it out of the best of intentions. But Joe had only managed to phone you after a slew of drinks, hopefully, so he could move on without the memory of speaking to you the next morning. He wasn't calling because he wanted too...

"Call someone else Joe. Get a ride home, okay?" You huffed, trying to sound fed up. But your voice only deflated as your anger turned to something a little more bittersweet.

///

You watched the seasons slowly change and spent Christmas with the people you loved. You scrapped snow from your car windows and drove to work as silence filled your mind. Your free time was far less enchanting, with Lucy always gone. She never came back from New York, when she left that first time. But she facetimed you every Sunday, to weep over how in love she was, and to fill you in on all the group chats you'd failed to keep up with. Then she'd ask how you were doing and the two of you would pretend the pixilated date was the same as any other.

Your days were full of work, and your nights were exceptionally bland. But one, miraculous and furry hope gave you something to look forward too.

Ben landed the role in some action movie. You kept your promise to watch over Frankie while he spent his days in Italy, covered in fake scars. ///

Frankie was a bundle of pure joy. You stopped in to let her out every morning before work, on lunch breaks and again on your way home. You took full advantage of Ben's Netflix, and stayed a little later each night because Frankie was the dearest company you'd had in months. She snuggled up with you during movies and followed you around every corner.

You sent photos to Ben and he usually responded almost immediately with crying emojis and every different heart shape.

You posted a few shots of your daily walks to your Instagram story but saved one very special selfie for your feed. It was a photo of you and Frankie laying on Ben's bathroom floor. You'd tripped over the edge of his laundry bin, and Frankie came to check out all the commotion. She laid down across from you and looked in the floor-length mirror like it was a camera and you were on The Office. You clamored to grab your phone in time for the photo, and you did.

You asked Ben for permission to showcase his darling fur baby on social media and he agreed without hesitation.

But almost immediately after slapping a filter on and posting, you regretted it. Comments from user names like queeniedarling123 and hoemazzelo flooded your notifications.

That's Frankie! Tell Frankie I love her!

Are you and Ben together?

I thought you were with Joe? We demand Joe and Frankie selfies.

Your heart dropped then. You thought of taking the photo down, but it was already liked by a few thousand. So you quickly moved to make your account private and deleted a few select comments that really made you queasy.

When Ben returned home, he came bearing the news that he would have to leave again very soon. You could tell he wanted to ask, but something held him back. So you stepped up and offered to hold your spot, checking in on Frankie while Ben was away.

Through the next couple of months, you kept up the same schedule, taking the pup on walks and sending photos to Ben. You realized that the best kinds of friends trusted you to linger around, even when they were miles away.

///

Lucy facetimed less, but when she did, the chats lasted for hours. You managed your slumber party rituals as best you could while separated by a screen. But somedays the distance made you feel exceptionally alone.

When your phone rang, midweek on your lunch break and Lucy's name popped on the screen, you worried. She would facetime you on schedule like it was set in stone, and text in between with any trivial news. She never called. In the nanoseconds it took you to answer, your mind buzzed with every bout of horrible news your friend would have reason to call in the middle of the weekday with...

"Hello?" You asked, standing alone outside of your car, stalling your return to work.

"We're coming home!" Lucy informed merrily. She sounded as she were on a bus, now. Muffled voices and metallic clangs screeching in the background.

"Home?" You asked hopefully.

"Listen! We've rented a cabin for this weekend and everyone is coming to celebrate the last weekend of the decade. So I'm gonna come by your house tomorrow round five, yeah? Pack warm clothes and maybe some board games!" Lucy informed you all at once.

"Tomorrow?" You spun around, looking around the snow-covered parking lot. "I mean, I am off work but are you sure-"

"Tomorrow round five! It's going to be a good time okay? Joe is going to be there. I'll see you soon love, okay, bye!"

Lucy ended the call before you had time to protest or ask any more details. Were you being warned or enticed?

///

From the outside, the cabin looked more like a resort. You supposed that when a handful of actors who'd just been in a blockbuster vacationed together, this was somehow justifiable. How had you found yourself in the midst of all these people's lives? How were you worthy of four nights in a cabin with just as many levels? Lucy was the first one inside, greeted by a chorus of warm hello's. She and Ben shared some kind of knowing smile as the blonde man rose from a massive leather couch he was sprawled out on. He was dressed in designer joggers, and there was a large fire crackling from behind some painted bricks in the living area. The floor plan went on for ages, tall ceilings held up by wooden beams that lead your eye toward the open kitchen in the distance.

"Hello love." Ben stretched his arms over his head as he walked toward you. He found no qualms in grabbing your head in both his hands and planting a kiss on your forehead. Your insides had been abuzz with nerves, but a softer fuzzy feeling warmed your heart at Ben's gesture.

"Sorry we're late to the festivities. The weather, you know." You sighed, looking at Ben who was already waving off your apology.

"Better late than never! We've been stalling the party until you showed." Gwilym rounded the corner dressed like he might have been camping outback, layers of thermal decorating his tall frame. Rami trailed in after him, taking Lucy's matching overnight bags in clutch. Behind him, his twin brother.

"At long last! Sami, y/n, y/n Sami!" Rami's brother was just as handsome as the actor himself, and you were certain he was full of his own dynamic qualities. You'd also caught on to the few slight hints Lucy dropped about Sami to you. Painting a glorious picture of her boyfriend's brother, ultimately for you to yearn over, fall for so you could like, be one big happy family or some best friend bullshit. But other than a kind smile your way, Sami seemed to hold little interest in you, and your interests were occupied vastly by the one person you had to see appear.

"Come pick a room!" Lucy called after you, and you had no choice but to follow her orders. There were eight bedrooms. Eight. Rami and Lucy had snagged the biggest, and Sami had chosen the one at the opposite end of the hall. Ben and Gwil had taken the only two rooms on the third floor, and that left you to choose between the middle of this hallway or the basement. And you really didn't want to treck all the way back down to the basement with your things. So you darted into the room nearest the bathroom and were charmed to see the sleeping quarters weren't outlandishly lavish. The cabin still held the charm that any good cabin should, with wood paneling and a quilted iron-framed bed. Just as you dropped your duffle bag onto the dresser in the corner, Lucy came in to tug you back downstairs.

The boys were breaking out the liquor and the festivities were abound. You settled between Ben and Rami on the massive leather sofa, clinking your red solo cups of whiskey together and cheering to the gathering.

"Joe said he'll be half an hour more." Gwil grimaced looking at his phone screen. You were glad for the warning. More time to practice how you'd act once he landed. But you did a damn good job of pretending that wasn't what you were doing at all. You listened to Sami tell you about himself and laughed when Gwilym spilled his whiskey all over his trousers, complaining about how he couldn't change because he'd been wearing both pairs he'd brought, at once. It was all fun and games, which lead you to discussing such.

Sami revealed that he'd never played beer pong. Ben dashed toward the kitchen to collect solo cups, and before you knew it a game was set up on the coffee table. Then the front door opened. The lads abandoned their excitably flutter around the beer pong table to greet a frigid looking Joe.

"You're just in time for beer pong! But I think the only room left is the basement, mate." Ben patted his friend on the shoulder as you sat stone still on the sofa, watching the scene unfold. Joe didn't seem to mind the boarding situation and moved to hug Rami on his treck to abandon his things. Just before Joe left the room, his eyes drifted to notice yours. You'd planned for this; to see him. But all the things you practiced saying or doing were coated in white-out, and as soon as Joe's eyes met yours, they moved on. Oh, this wasn't going to go well, was it? He seemed happy. He seemed like he could care less that you were existing in the same space as he was. That only made you realize that the work you'd been putting in to ignore your feelings for Joe had worked. You'd definitely been ignoring them. They hadn't gone away at all.

You sipped your whiskey to look preoccupied, and let out the breath you'd been holding as your friends bustled around you without a care. Ben was pouring beer into the cups on the coffee table, and Rami was explaining the rules of the game to his brother. When Joe reappeared, shy of his coat and looking a little warmer, he was appointed to Lucy and Ramis team, where Sami belonged swearing he needed all the help he could get. But you had Ben and Gwilym. What could go wrong?

Were you doing this right? You'd played beer pong before, but you were playing a harder game of trying to avoid Joe's eyes. You weren't even sure if he had cast a single glance your way. You weren't sure of anything besides how awkward you felt. But the more you drank the less you worried. Everyone else seemed to be letting loose just as well, you were certain you'd never seen Gwilym so wasted, (funny considering he spilled more whiskey than he drank earlier.) Ben would cheer for everyone no matter who was playing, and Lucy was practically falling asleep at the wheel. Under Rami's wise direction, Sami played just fine, your team was loosing after all. But maybe that's because Joe kept switching the rules around.

He would rearrange the cups and allow way more redos than necessary, especially when you wound up playing against each other. You stood and waited for Joe to make his winning shot until somewhere around the seventh time he missed. When Joe reached for the ping pong ball again and you'd had enough.

"No, come on, you don't get another chance." You huffed. Those were the first words you'd spoken to Joe since you'd seen him tonight. He looked up at you with a roll of his stunning eyes.

"We've been playing by the same rules all night." Joe countered cooly.

"Yeah, for Sami's sake. Not yours. It's over anyway!" You gestured wildly. Rami drunkenly nodded with you in agreeance, somehow lifting Lucy from her alcohol-induced sleep on his lap. When your best friend's feet hit the floor, Lucy and Rami slinked off to bed.

"You can do it!" Ben weakly cheered from the armchair behind you. Joe lifted a brow and gestured toward his friend from the opposite team.

"He's not on your team!"

"But I'm almost done! You can't change the rules all of a sudden." Joe fired at you, seemingly genuinely angry.

"But you can?" You countered. Gwilym chuckled from the sofa beside you, and when you tuned your attention back to Joe, he just gave you a shrug as he lifted the ping pong ball in the air.

"Oh, fuck off." You groaned, reaching for the last cup of beer and taking a swig as you stepped over where Sami had passed out on the floor near the fire. Joe watched on is disbelief as you stomped up the stairs, in a hurry to outrun your regret. You shouldn't have snapped at him like that. You should have just kept your anger bottled up like you had been all along.

You dashed into the room you'd chosen and shut the door behind you. It was quiet. The loud laughter and chatter from your friends had ended and it was time to go to bed. Thank God you had so much to drink, or your thoughts would have certainly kept you awake all night.

///

You woke up with a dull ache all over and had to talk yourself out of from under the warm quilted covers. A hearty breakfast was just what you needed.

At the bottom of the stairs, you were greeted by Ben who was munching on a cheap granola bar. Joe was at the table, scrolling through his phone in his damned dinosaur patterned pajamas like it was Christmas morning. You held back an audible scoff as you gently tore the granola bar from Ben's hands, skipping over a proper good morning.

"Let me make you a real breakfast." You begged like a worried mother. Ben shrugged happily in agreeance, following you in the kitchen. You took the chance to teach some pseudo cooking class while Ben stole his granola bar back and leaned against the counter watching you. You found a few eggs and some other breakfast staples hiding in the cupboards, talking through every step like this was your audition for the Great British Bake Off. Ben chuckled at you along the way offering no other help. Sometime during your lesson over how to best fry bacon, Joe strolled over and shifted his weight next to Ben.

"You're doing it wrong." He noted. As if there were one right way. Even you knew that wasn't true.

"Yeah yeah." You pushed, trying to keep your cool. There was no need to let his presence make you manic any further. But then Joe stepped closer, taking your place in front of the stove to finish what you'd started without asking.

You huffed in disbelief, sulking over to stand next to Ben.

"You should help me make something in the morning." Ben shrugged, polishing off his granola bar. You happily agreed and managed to let Joe take over the last half of breakfast. There was more than enough to serve everybody as they slowly appeared, each more hungover than the last. Lucy drank coffee like it was her job, hardly enjoying the taste as much as she longed for it to cure her ailment. You sat with her near the now-empty fireplace, snuggled under a single blanket and sharing a laugh about one thing or another. When the girl reached to take another drink of coffee, she peered in to find her mug empty. The coffee pot was also visibly empty from the kitchen and Lucy let out a groan.

"I don't want to go all the way over there. But I need more coffee to live." You couldn't help but chuckle at her dramatics, considering jumping to do what she could have just as easily done. But Joe was on it. And out of nowhere, in some moment of daftness- no, true wonder, Joe turned to you and asked if you wanted a cup, too. It was like he'd forgotten you were supposed to be at odds with each other. Like he'd never know you were at all. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to drop it just as easily. But your sharp tongue had a mind of its own. You gave Joe an empty "no" and couldn't even look in his eyes as you spoke. God, this was going to be a long weekend huh?

Lucy gave you a look then. It was a cross between 'Whoa, what was that for?' and 'Oh God are you okay?' You pretended not to notice. You went on ignoring Joe when he was in the room. Thankfully a couple of classic films played on the TV and Sami held your attention in between, asking about how you and Lucy met. As the sun dipped low through the patio doors, your party longed to be entertained. It was Ben's idea to play charades, and you almost enjoyed playing along. But Joe was raking in points for his team left in right like this was some sport he'd been playing professionally. You tried not to roll your eyes, but let out a sigh of relief when the game finished.

"What now?" Gwilym looked at you. Maybe it was because you were the first person in his line of vision. Or maybe this was your divine chance to have a little fun.

"Let's do karaoke." A devilish grin spread across your face as Lucy squealed in delighted agreeance.

"That's not at all fair," Joe spoke up from the sofa near your side.

"If you get to turn charades into the dam Cannes Film Festival, I'm calling karaoke." You pointed right at him. So far, you'd let Joe shift your mood into something sour, but this was your vacation too, and Lucy was already setting up karaoke of the flatscreen. You were up first, and weren't shy about belting out Oh! Darling in front of everyone, most of whom danced and backed you up with their own array of vocal talent. You laughed as Ben and Gwil danced together, and even tossed Joe a glare as he sat watching you from the sofa, biting his lip to keep from saying something he would regret you were sure. It felt magical to finally let go, and to have a reason to scream, melodically so. Joe must have known what you were singing about. Hell, everyone probably did. But soon everyone was singing together and you were worn out by your efforts to steal a little thunder. A pipping hot shower was in order.

You bathed, soaking up every way you'd felt for the past 42 hours and letting your fleeting thoughts wash away. You'd sung your heart out, and now you felt your tension melt under the hot water. You felt almost like everything was going to be different back downstairs. After you were squeaky clean, you shimmied into a super large sweatshirt and a pair of leggings, heading back down the stairs to join the gang in what was supposed to be a carefree weekend in a super large cabin. Outside the distant patio doors, you spotted Gwilym and Ben pelting each other with snowballs in the setting sun. Lucy was lingering near the end of the hall, checking her cellphone. As you approached her, Joe appeared in your sight.

"Do you wanna order pizza?" He asked, looking to his friend with a quirked brow. Lucy seemed to consider for a moment before shaking her head with a shrug. Joe started to walk away in acceptance when you noticed Lucy's neutral expression morph into a barely noticeable frown.

"Uh..." Lucy cautioned, strangely enough, to stop Joe in his tracks. The man spun around to look her way.

"How come you didn't ask y/n?" Lucy countered. You could see in her eyes, she knew she was walking a thin line. But it was already crossed, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Joe turned his eyes toward you, they were blank as ever. You had to stop yourself from holding your breath.

"She doesn't." He decided on your behalf.

"Well, how do you know? You didn't even ask me." You wondered in a pissed off tone. Joe clenched his jaw, looking all around as his heels slowly turned the other way like he wanted to walk away from this. But you, for some reason, couldn't let that happen.

"What you don't have a good enough comeback for once?" You snapped, shifting a little closer toward the man.

And that's when everything exploaded. You'd seen it in movies and read it in books, the trope where a pair of people bicker over each other in an incoherent fashion. You didn't think it was appliable to real life. But it was happening now. You were arguing over ordering a fucking pizza. Joe was going on about how he "knew you would have said no just because I was the one asking." And you were standing your ground, arguing that he'd "never even given you a chance to answer!" It was so dumb. It was the stupidest squabble you'd ever been apart of. You weren't even sure if Joe heard you, or if you were speaking clearly between his own pissed off rambles. You were both just arguing at each other.

"Stop!" Lucy's shrill tone cut through your grumbled arguing. You and Joe had no choice but to shut up on command and turned your shocked glares to Lucy, who spoke up once she had your attention. "I figured things might be weird but this has got to end."

In one swift move, Lucy grabbed your wrist in one of her hands, and Joe's in her other. Your shared bickering started back up the moment your best friend marched the pair of you down the hall.

"Go down there," Lucy released her grip on you first once you were on the landing of the basement bedroom Joe had been occupying. "And don't you dare come out until you've settled whatever the hell you have to settle!" Her eyes bore into Joe's as she turned the inside lock for effect, and slammed the door on her way out.

"I mean it!" Lucy's shouts were muddled through the door as Joe sighed, spinning around to shuffle down the small flight of stairs that led to his room. You stared at the doorknob in disbelief, knowing full well you could unlock it, and leave. You could even go home if you wanted. But... you didn't really want to be anyplace else, did you?

You swallowed your pride as you sulked down the staircase, fully prepared to finish dishing out the last of this crash and burn with Joe. The basement room was dimly lit by a lamp beside a quilt covered bed. A small window was covered with insulation near the ceiling, and the wood-paneled walls were bare, save for peeling wallpaper, a clock and a calendar, like this was some kind of bomb shelter. Fitting for the explosion to finish here.

"I guess we don't have to like each other, but maybe we can pretend in front of the others-" You started meekly, standing in the middle of the room.

"That's the problem! I do like you." Joe groaned. He was sat on the end of a quilt covered bed, looking utterly exhausted.

"You didn't even look my way until we started playing beer pong!" You reminded Joe of the half-hour you spent ignoring each other at the start of last night.

"And you didn't have much to say until you started shouting about beer pong!" Joe countered, crossing his arms.

"Shit." You let out a sorry chuckle. You were tired of shouting. It was time to stop running in circles.

"I mean... I wasn't really mad about the beer pong was I?" You breathed shakily, staring a the rope rug under your feet. You were finally all alone with Joe and it felt worse than you thought it could have. But the time for talking about why was now or never.

"Then what?" Joe wondered. It sounded like a plea. His tone had dropped an octave as he leaned back, propping his hands behind his back. A sign that he was all open to what you had to say next...

"Oh, God... I'm going to sound so dumb." You realized, covering your burning face in your hands. As you thought back to what upset you so greatly in the first place, you realized you were going to seem horrifically stupid mentioning it after so long.

Joe wait for you to go on and you knew there was nothing to do but dive headfirst into the thing you'd been avoiding forever. You drew your toe around the rug's circular pattern as if to gear up for your next question.

"You never... the wrap party. The next day we were supposed too..." It was too embarrassing to address directly.

"You... you said you wanted space." Joe's eyes were wide under his furrowed brow, but his voice was less gruff than before.

"Yeah, space, not an ending!" You emphasized. Joe looked utterly defeated, then. "I guess I should have made that a bit more clear." You sulked in realization.

"Shit. This whole time I'd been waiting for you to give me another green light. I thought I should have kept my distance until you said."

The air between yourself and Joe had always been supercharged with tension. You never knew what was going to come next. When the tension turned negative, it never went away. It just stayed there, festering until now. Until you saw him again and the space between you clicked back together, perfectly fitted, but clouded over by every conclusion you'd each come to on your own.

"And I kept waiting for you to call. I guess we're both a couple of idiots, huh?" You shrugged. There was nowhere left to go but forward.

"Well, I did call, eventually." Joe challenged. He was drunk then. You didn't let it count. But now, you wished you would have. You started at the carpet, understanding that he was right, and fate had might have been swayed. But this tiny, bomb shelter turned basement bedroom was all you were left with. A silence filled the air as you found the right words to speak.

"I'm sorry." You fessed through a grimace. "I'm sorry about beer pong. And for all the other stuff, I just let my feelings get the better of me the past two days."

Joe gave a single nod, chewing his lip as his brows slowly pushed together. You stood, closing in on yourself while you waited for Joe to say something, anything more.

"Your feelings?"

"I've always had feelings for you, Joe. They've just been hurt is all."

"Does that mean you still have feelings for me?"

"Seems that's the case." You nodded sorrily. "I know I've got a funny way of showin' it."

"Well cut it out, I'm the funny one." His brow was still furrowed but his tone was the lightest it had been all weekend. A grin flickered to life on your face as you looked up to Joe, who was still sat on the edge of the bed staring up at you.

"So, can we be done fighting?" You asked with a hopeful hint in your tone, still keeping your arms crossed all the while. You missed having fun with him. But you understood if all bets were off, by now.

"Well, I haven't apologized yet," Joe said.

"Why would-?"

"I'm really sorry I just let you go like that. I shouldn't have. And for hurting your feelings. For what it's worth, I haven't stopped thinking about you once."

"Oh."

He looked up to you, totally spellbound. No words came as he willed them out through a weak gesture. So Joe caught his lip between his teeth and bore his shinny eyes into yours. All you could do was what came naturally. You uncrossed your arms and held them out like a peace offering.

Joe slowly rose from the edge of the bed, keeping his eyes on you. He seemed cautious of getting to close, cautious of mistaking your intention and spinning into another round of shouts. But you kept your arms outstretched, and Joe accepted your embrace with his even stronger pair of arms, totally wrapping them around your middle.

"We can be done fighting, now." Joe muffled into your hair after a moment of all-encompassing peace washed over you. Your arms latched around his neck as you melted into his long-awaited hug. Before you could totally lose yourself in Joe's arms, you had one last thing to say...

"I promise to start saying what I mean, from now on." You spoke into Joe's shoulder. You could spend all day apologizing and coming to an understanding, but you couldn't leave the room until some resolve took place.

"And I promise to listen better." Joe spoked pointedly, slowly starting to pull away from the embrace.

"Do you think Lucy will let us out of here now?" You laughed. You'd nearly parted, but his fingers were still splayed over your ribs.

"I dunno. She said we had to settle everything, and... I don't think we have." His voice was a whisper, and it was in that moment everything about the moment hit you like a rushing wave. The way he smelled like a Christmas candle, his big hands pulling you closer toward his warm body, the sound of him sucking in a breath to hold, everything.

Joe kept his gaze in you while his eyes started to close, enchanting yours to do the same. Then he kissed you. Like really kissed you. Joe's lips pressed against yours as if he was trying to meld your worlds together in one perfect motion. His mouth was warm against yours. When your lips parted with his in a slow-paced sync, you decided it was quite possibly the best kiss of all time.

When Joe stopped kissing you, you could still feel his hot breath on your lips as you stood there utterly stunned.

"I've wanted to do that since the day I met you," Joe whispered. You allowed your hands to slink back around his next then and initiated another short and sweet kiss, a gesture that meant your interaction didn't have to end there. When you pulled away and Joe's lips chased your own, you were hooked.

"What else have you always wanted to do?" You wondered with a coy grin. Because you felt, then, like you used to with Joe. But better.

He tightened his grip around your waist and started to walk backward toward the bed; keeping his pretty jungle colored eyes glued in yours. And when he eased onto the mattress you didn't see a point in holding back any longer. You practically jumped into Joe's lap, attacking him with kisses. He actually giggled.

When Joe let his brilliant fingers creep bellow your sweatshirt that was three-time too big for you, he unclasped your bralette in nanoseconds, like he'd done it a million times. You were far too anxious to shed your layers and nearly knocked Joe in the nose with your elbow in your hurry.

"Easy there," Joe chuckled, watching your garments fall to the floor. That's when he pulled your hips flush against his own and nipped at your neck in the process. You couldn't help but let out a yelp of surprise, overwhelmed by the intensity of your interaction.

You and Joe became a mess of giggles and fumbles. You reprimanded him for yanking your hair and he almost fell over trying to take his pants off. It was wonderfully hilarious. Your laughter dissolved into contented sighs when your hot skin stuck together, when your kisses felt more like you were trying to devour one another.

When you finally eased into Joe's lap completely, you had to plaster your hand over his mouth to quiet his groans. You couldn't be sure if your friends could hear the next floor up. You almost wondered if they had been crowded around the basement door, trying to listen in on what kept you and Joe away so long. But all your thoughts were soon occupied by Joe and the way he was making you feel.

You found the best way to keep quiet was when Joe flipped you over and captured your lips in his. You traded sighs as soon as the escaped, and your toes curled while everything came together at the center of you and Joe.

After your vision went white, and Joe nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, you found the cabin was deafly quiet.

"Why did we never do that sooner?" Joe's voice rumbled against your neck. His body was pressed warm against yours. As you took a beat to consider his question, Joe propped himself up on an elbow so he could look at you.

"I thought you were just... I dunno, I thought you couldn't possibly feel the same."

Everything was out in the open now, and Joe was still gazing at you like you lit up the sun every morning, so it might shine just right for him, and him alone.

"I was always kind of head over heels if I'm being honest. But I never imagined you'd feel the same. That's... that's why I left the pizza place. I didn't want to freak you out."

"Okay, well let's make a pact to say what needs to be said in a timely manner. Because that's exactly how I felt too." Joe sort of nodded, moving a strand of your hair from your eyes. You had only ever dreamed of a moment like this. What if that's all this would ever be, now? A memory to keep you occupied?

"So, what now?" You were almost afraid to ask. But after everything, you knew you had to.

"We'll figure it out. But together this time around, yeah? We should be together." Joe gleamed, tracing a finger along the curve of your hip. You couldn't be sure if his touch gave your chills, or if it was the look in his big adorable eyes.

"Really together?" You rose a brow.

"Facebook official, drive-in movie date, vacation cruise together."

"I do." You giggled, pulling Joe down for a quick kiss. He held on to you and kept you against him as you both drifted to sleep, together.

///

Your eyes fluttered open reluctantly. They wanted to sleep, but your stomach wanted food, much much more. You had skipped dinner last night, after all.

The clock on the wall read somewhere around five in the morning, and Joe was sprawled out beside you, draped in dark green sheets like an angel.

"Hey. Joe!" You whispered, snuggling closer. You could have left him to keep dreaming, but you only had a day and a half left in the cabin to spend every waking moment making up for all the times you'd missed together.

Joe grumbled, shifting into consciousness.

"I'm going upstairs to make cookies and if you don't come with me, I'll be absolutely heartbroken." You plead through a sleepy whisper.

"I'll do whatever you want for the rest of forever," Joe smirked, keeping his eyes closed as he pulled you closer against him. You'd never felt more content. As Joe's secure embrace started to lull you back into a daze, he suddenly jolted awake, ready to do your bidding.

"The last one upstairs is lame and gets one less cookie." He decided calmly, searching for his discarded pajamas pants. You stretched into the day with a smile. How'd you get so lucky? Just hours ago you and Joe were passing cold glares across the massive cabin. Now, you could hardly keep from clinging to the guy as you lazily crept upstairs.

The kitchen was empty, decorated with a few discarded mugs and some paper used to keep score for last night's game of charades. There was a dark navy light creeping past the patio curtains, a hint of the coming sunrise.

You and Joe kept mostly quiet as you found a tray to bake on and threw together ingredients for a cookie recipe you had a keen memory of. He kept stealing bits of dough and pretending to fall asleep against the refrigerator while you rambled about the baking process.

While you waited for the cookies to bake, you shared a single cup of coffee and talked. You talked about the days when you were just getting to know each other. You found out for every moment back then, that you'd gravitated near Joe, that he was equally as nervous of the magnetic pull between you two. He laughed about the time he nearly held your hand on Gwils sofa but admitted he was more petrified than a virgin schoolboy to cross any lines with you. You laughed too, admitting that you were sure you had been overthinking everything.

Then the timer went off on the oven and your scrambled to keep the noise down, creating more of havoc by doing so. You kept laughing and ate a few cookies before they had time to cool down- and then just kept laughing. Sleep-deprived chuckles of unadulterated glee. Everything was finally the way it should have been.

You were busy cleaning up the last of your early morning baking mess, scolding Joe when he offered to help clean, but only kept reaching to grab a cookie.

A different voice called from around the corner, then. Ben sauntered around the kitchen island, rubbing his eyes.

"You've either finally stopped fighting, or you're laughing like loons at seven in the morning because you both snapped, and a murder mystery has taken place." Ben reached for a fresh-baked cookie quirking his brow your way as you spun around to put the clean cookie sheet back in the cabinet.

"Oh, yeah," Joe beamed, rising out the coffee cup you'd shared. "We kissed and made up."

"Oh my God!" Ben practically rocketed through the raised roof off the immaculate cabin. You spun around, fleetingly worried over his cries. But then took another bite of his cookie and said something more. "Finally!"

"Finally?" You scoffed, moving to bodyguard the cookies before any more could be stolen. You'd already had a few and the others would be pissed to wake up and find that you'd never saved any for them.

"Yeah, finally," Ben spoke through a mouthful of cookie, reaching into the fridge for some milk.

"All Joe has ever done since you've met is drone on about you." Ben pointed the jug of milk your way. "And all you ever did was check his Instagram like four times a day, more when I wasn't around to spy I'm sure."

Ben moved to the cabinets to find a glass while Joe cocked a quizzical eye your way. The man with faded copper hair and earth-colored eyes moved to stand by your side. His smirk widened as you studied his face, considering every moment you'd glanced his way before now. You hopped for an infinity of shared glances, from here on out.

"Alright, come help you said you would," Ben demanded, setting up the stove with a few pans. Oh that's right you promised to make another breakfast alongside Ben, this morning. Soon, the three of you were bustling around the kitchen whipping together an English breakfast for your crew of friends. You plated the last of the cookies and set them at the center of the table, surrounded by dishes for everyone to fill up.

Gwilym was the first to appear, happy as ever just to be apart. Rami followed close behind. He suggested you go wake Lucy, who apparently refused to leave the comfort of the warm cabin bed. You could hardly blame her.

"It's a brand new day!" You hollered dramatically, bursting through Lucy's door and waltzing up to the lump she'd reduced herself to under the sheets. Your best friend groaned in protest, but when she pulled the sheets from her face she was grinning like mad.

"We made breakfast. You'd better hurry before the good stuff is gone." You informed Lucy, flopping onto the empty side of the bed at her side all the same.

"Oh, who's we, then?" Lucy chirped, propping her head in her hand against a slew of fluffy pillows. She was even radiant in the early morning. A visual display of all the beauty she'd stored up and selflessly showered you with over the years. She was the best friend you ever had.

"Me and Ben, and Joe." You shrugged, settling against the pillows.

"Sooo..." Lucy hummed, glancing at the painted nails on her free hand, then batting her lashes back up to you. "It worked?"

"You devil." You hissed through a smile. You knew Lucy hadn't necessarily planned to lock you and Joe away together, but you also knew that while you stayed hidden away, that Lucy had her own hopes of the outcome. She maybe even went so far as to cast a spell or two.

"It worked!" Lucy decided, based on the smile you tried to keep hidden between your teeth.

"Okay, it worked! You're a matchmaker, damn it!" You squeaked as Lucy sprung from her relaxed pose to throw her arms around your shoulders. "Thanks for being you, Lu." You cooed after hugging her back. When Lucy sat up next to you, she leaned close to pass along a secret.

"I only stayed up here so Rami would send you, so you could spill your guts in private. I simply can't go on with my day until you give me every gory detail."

After chastising your friend, you told her everything. She stifled giggles and awes and her eye's sparkled while you spilled the details that you lived through last night, and early this morning. She, like Ben, was naturally elated that you and Joe had finally wound up together. She said that you and Joe deserved each other. Lucy promised you that she would always be around to help you get the things you deserved in life. After a few sappy best friend speeches shared on the massive kingsized cabin bed, you left the room together.

You somehow ended up carrying Lucy down the stairs on your back, nearly toppling down the last couple of steps. Gwilym was there to steady your antics. The rest of the vacation went on with the same unbridled glee.

Everyone sat around together, laughing. You played board games for hours on end, told ghost stories, and made even more cookies. Somehow, Rami ended up teaching you how to do the salsa. You'd didn't know it, but Joe caught your dance lesson on camera. You found out later that night when he posted it to his Instagram story. 

You ended that final night in the basement, by choice.

When the morning came and you and Joe laid awake together and began to say goodbye. But you didn't feel sad. Joe filled your head with visions of your next meeting. He planned dates and surprises out loud as you lay together, relishing the closeness you'd always dreamed of. You had him, now. Joe was a collection of atoms, willingly existing just beneath your fingertips. He spoke of attaching himself to your hip the very second the next opportunity arose.

You helped each other get ready to leave the cabin going so far as to imagine coming back with everyone next year, together. All your friends dragged haphazardly packed bags to the living room, you didn't feel sad to leave them, for once. Everyone awaited separate ubers to separate places, but you still had your group text. You still had concert tickets to buy and bistros to try out, together.

Joe kissed you in front of everyone before you parted. It was a display that put all your friends at ease. A gesture that seemed like promised that everything was the way it was meant to be. You had Joe now, and even though everyone was happy to accept the long-awaited fate, you were the most ecstatic of all. You finally had Joe. Even as he reluctantly clamored into his ride and you lagged behind, you were finally together. 

You loved to take it easy, especially after a night of partying so hard. You and your friends had established yourselves as the college's most wild group up until earlier this year when you nearly KO'd after staying in the hospital for a month due to alcohol poisoning. You took the school year slow, and when summer came, you piled your three closest friends and took off on a stereotypical road trip. Good, clean fun.  

When you weren't driving, your trip was mainly spent poolside, humming along to the static radio Francine toted along with her everywhere. The battery-powered thing would even work in the car sometimes, which came in handy as your vintage mustang wasn't equipped with a port for an aux cord or a radio that worked any longer.

Francine spread her gangly legs across Emma's lap in the back while Tilly sat in your passenger seat, flexing her map reading muscle on a mission to be totally directionally literate by the end of the road trip across the southwest. But then your car broke down forty miles deep into death valley and you all had to cram your belongings and yourselves into the back of a cab. Other friends might not have survived being squished together like sardines. But you made it to the Vegas airport without a foul word between the bunch of you.

Granted, Emma started to cry because the cab smelt of ham and Tilly's beloved map blew across the sandy horizon as you sat on the roadside, waiting to be rescued. You all relied on each other to keep a cool head, like always.

Your three roommates were sometimes too much to handle at once, but over the past three years of college and dates and sickness and flunked classes, you'd be lost without your best friends.

Once you all got back home to California with a bundle of stories to tell and a lot of left over time to fill up, the only thing to do was crash. 

Luckily, your brother's fancy new home was the closest and coolest stop. So you decided to take over his pool house like you were still on some kind of adventure.

"How's your brother so well off? And is he well off.. in other areas?" Francine pipped up. She blew away some of her frizzy strands of hair that made her seem like the coolest hippie alive, with a name to match. Her boldness never faltered in style or speak.

"Hm, strange I've suddenly lost my hearing." You quipped, grossed out by the thought of your brother being lusted after.

"Just don't bother him, okay? I'm welcome in the pool house without question so none of you are allowed to mess this up for us!" You informed. Your brother, Daniel, bought the house earlier in the year sometime when a film project he was apart of paid off pretty well. You'd forgotten anything to do with his big winnings in your previously alcoholic state.

"Oh, just go shower! We're gonna search through the movie cabinet and bask in the glow of this projector." Emma beamed.

The pool house was a studio with a tiny square marble kitchen, a living room complete with a bunch over oversized beanbags, and two twin beds hidden in the sunken pit lounge area. The space was designed in the '70s and the golden shag carpet still remained to prove it. This was the faux frat house your brother escaped to when the fancy chandelier in his adjacent home shone a little too brightly for his liking.   The best part of the pool house was the film projector and the massive pull-down screen, like a tiny personal movie theater. Though your brother was a bigger fan of dated television series', a few classic films found their way into his collection on the wall-length shelf.

You left the hip space to take a breather in the grey tiled bathroom, taking your time washing off the sheen of dust and sweat your road trip disaster left you in. When you returned to the living room to take Emma's place on the sofa while she scampered to the shower, the girls had popped in some movie of their liking.

"Top End Wedding. I've never heard of it." Tilly called from the floor, crawling around to put the disc in the player. She had already placed the cover back into its rightful spot on the shelf.

"What's that even mean?" Francine wondered, snuggling under a furry blanket.

"Shut up and find out like the rest of us." Tilly offered, plopping back against a florescent bean bag.

You chuckled as the movie started, but turned your attention your cell phone after it started too buzz. There was an email from the death valley mechanic addressing the problems he had to fix in order to get your car running again. You typed back a response in a hurry. When your friend's giggles cut through your focus, you clicked your phone off and turned your attention back to the film.

You'd completely missed the first scene, catching only glimpses of lush green islands and a lady with a broken high heeled shoe. But then a familiar voice spoke up.

"I have to take her to court?" Gwilym Lee was on the screen. Of course, he was. He appeared unmistakably himself... but much different from the last time you recalled seeing the man.

You silently chuckled to yourself, wondering whatever became of your brother's best friend. After Daniel and Gwilym finished grad school together, Gwilym was apparently apart of a few major British productions and a well off guy. But between your focus on college and some extra wild nights out, you'd barely seen your brother outside of holiday celebrations. So Gwyilm was hardly ever brought up in conversation. Or maybe he was, and you were just too maxed out to register. Be that as it may, the blue-eyed man was on the screen now... looking rather grown-up.

"My God he's a catch am I right?" Tilly pipped up, sipping vodka she'd found in the mini-fridge. Did she really think so? Dear old Gwilym?

"Look at him! That actress is so tiny next to him, God. Imagine being pinned between him and a wall." Francine swooned, in her usual lovestruck wonder.

And the intrusive thought was frightening to you. Because it seemed almost appealing. Gwilym hugged you goodbye once, some odd years ago. His strong arms were certainly brought a comfort you could still recollect.

"Confirmation that we're all hot for this Ned character?" Tilly turned her pretty feathery head of hair to you. You were busy bitting your thumbnail and wondering when Gwilym had gotten so buff.

"Huh? Oh yeah, Ned's cool." You nodded emptily.

"Pfft!" Francine spat, sitting up and leaning across a pillow toward you. "Get your head out of your car troubles and look at this fine British hunk!"

"I thought this was an Austrian film?" Tilly wondered.

"He's clearly British! Listen up! Haven't you paid attention during the world's fair week?" Francine rang, lifting her own glass of vodka toward the screen.

Your phone buzzed again and you desperately hoped it was the man who would assure your car was liable and you could pick it up and drive it through the desert some more before summer vacation ended. But instead, your brother's name blinked across your dim screen.

Daniel: Are you in the pool house? Come inside for a second. Leave the sorority behind. (No offense)

"I'll be right back. Pools open! Just don't come in the house!" You called out the rules your brother gave you the first time you stayed here. Your friends groaned. You scurried out the window paneled door and across the stone packed pathway to Daniel's deck. The back porch light was on and its reflection glistened off the pool. Was he going to be pissed that you remembered where he hid the spare key and tell your gang to leave? Did he just want to say hello? If he did, why wouldn't he just come out to greet you?

You knocked a couple of times to warn of your requested intrusion. The kitchen was empty and dark but there was a chatter coming from the living room. Your brother must have had company. Why did you need to come in here?

That's when Vinny and Violet came bounding up the basement staircase toward you in a fluffy flurry. They were sibling Burmese Mountain dogs whose nails were clicking against the cherry wood floor as they pranced below your feet; a very excitable greeting.

"Y/N? Come in here!" Daniel's low timbre was heard in from the living room and the sound of clinking glasses followed. Your brother Daniel was standing from his luxurious leather sofa, smiling and gesturing you into the room. On the other side of the sofa was a man you hadn't seen in years, but had just been reminded of only moments ago.

"Gwil is in town! I thought I heard you outside and we were just talking about you."

Oh my God. He was hot. You tried to stifle your shock at the stone-carved beauty of a brother's best friend that rose to his feet before you.

"Hello, again Y/N! Looking very comfortable." Gwil's voice was silky and wonderfully British. The accent would always catch you off guard. But his enchanting voice only reminded you how silly you must have looked in your sad excuse for pajamas. You wore tattered sweat pants and a torn-up tshirt that bared too much of your collar bone to be deemed appropriate.

And the angelic Gwilym was in well-fitted slacks and a dress shirt, blue eyes glimmering, muscles rippling past his perfect clothes.

"Hi, Gwil!" You chimed, really mustering the strength to sound normal. But what was normal between the pair of you? You'd met him a total of three times.

"Why are you all the way over in this part of town?" Daniel wondered, shifting his weight and glancing at you.

"My car broke down in death valley and your place was closest. Hope it's alright if we crash for the night?"

"I left the pool house key out for a reason! It's never a bother. I like that you're comfortable enough to stay. Roxanne never even comes over." Daniel complained about your middle sister. Roxanne was an unassuming girl with an interest in botany that left her camped out in national parks for weeks at a time. Your sister would talk about plants little to nothing else, besides her terrible crush on Gwilym Lee. A shameless attraction you'd all too suddenly understood.

"How's she?" Gwilym asked with a knowing smile. She could never hide the way she melted in Gwil's presence.

"She's been the movies this year, if that's what you're asking."  Daniel chortled. You wondered for a moment if the film your friends had found in the cabinet was one that made it to theaters. Was Gwilym finally featured on the big screen? And did Roxanne really still have that girlish crush?

"She's been seeing a lot of that Max guy, actually. I know because she does, in fact, call me every weekend." You chided, looking to Daniel with a smile.

"Yeah to make sure you're not dead." Daniel retorted. He was never a fan of your wild streak. Bless him. "She's always up to something crazy. Practically Instagram famous." Daniel buffed your confidence, gushing over his very own kid sister.

"I have a few thousand followers, it's really not uncommon." You assured your brother, who'd never gotten more than twelve likes on his own posts.

"Cute." Gwilym smiled. He looked you up and down and if you weren't sporting the world's nastiest pajamas. You'd dare to wonder if he liked what he saw.

"Well I better get back were-" You caught your breath and tore your curious gaze away from your brother's best friend. "...having quite the girls night."

Daniel nodded in response.

"You staying for a while? See you around?" You asked Gwilym. You were a naturally curious girl, and Gwilym Lee was extremely easy on the eyes. Why wouldn't you want to look a little longer?

"Yeah, I'll be in town. See ya around, kid." Gwilym's perfect smile was photograph worthy. But that remark stung. You were just Daniel's littlest sister, to Gwilym.

Later that evening you excused your bout of absence with some white lie about your brother needing help with his dogs after a bath.

The death valley mechanic eventually emailed you with good news, so you text your brother and asked if he could take you through the desert on a mission to get your car back. He happily agreed to take you and to let the girls take over the pool house for the day.

///

Your eyes fluttered open, blinded by the sharp white rays of sun boomeranging off the pool and into the window by your bed. Emma was passed out on the adjacent bed, snoring peacefully. There were more shuffles and chatter from the level above you and you knew the other girls were awake. You heard muted squeals and high pitched whispers floating through the pool house, and among them, a lower voice grumbled.

"Y/N! Ned's here!" Francine's unmistakably excited voice rang out.

"Oh, lovely!" You heard Gwilym let out a far off chortle.

Shit. What! Why? You bolted out of the twin bed and up the couple of steps, feet flying over the inexplicable shag carpet toward the double doors.

Gwilym was dressed for the day, in khaki shorts, a white short-sleeved button-up, and turtle framed glasses hiding the sparkle of his sea-blue eyes. And he was standing in the doorway with that stupid smirk, looking right at you.

"Gwil! Hi?" You reasoned, shouldering past Francine who was clutching the open door frame with her jaw hovering just above the floor.

"I texted you a bunch- but I see you were still asleep." Gwilym grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Is everything alright?" You wondered suddenly. You didn't even care that your hair was sticking in different directions, and the man had already seen your atrocious excuse for pajamas.

"Well, Dan got called into work. Left in a big hurry and asked if I'd help you out today. Fancy a lift? He took his SUV. Left the Buick." Gwil actually smirked, like he was making a sweet deal.

That's when Emma let out a gasp from somewhere behind you. She'd spent the first half of Top End Wedding in the shower, but quickly joined your friends to gush over the main character upon her joining the film

Gwilym's eyes left yours for a moment to glance over your shoulder to the house full of girls.

"Uh... alright." You gave a nervous grin, realizing you didn't really have another option. Daniel trusted Gwilym with his vehicle. If he caught one of your college friends behind the wheel of his car, he'd blow a gasket for certain.

"Uh, give me a minute to get my self together?" You nodded to Gwilym. The pair of you had never really spent any kind of quality time with each other. Only sat beside each other during dinners out with your brother's friends and across the living room sharing jokes. This was very different. Did you trust Gwil?

"Sure. I'll wait here if you lot don't mind." Gwil turned his bright gaze to Francine who's chipped nails were still digging into the open door. The girl gave a subtle nod, watching Gwil creep toward the kitchen counter.

"What the hell is going on?" Tilly laughed as you gestured past her.

"Secrets out! Gwil is a family friend. Please don't freak him out." You groaned, scooting to the bathroom. Tilly gapped at you as you spun into the bathroom to pull yourself together.

After finding an old Sargent Pepper tshirt in your bag and managing your hair into a suitable fashion, you hurried back out of the bathroom to hit the road; praying that your friends hadn't corned Gwilym.

The girls were scattered around the kitchen, leaning against counters with their eyes plastered on Gwil. He was like a wonder of the world. An uncovered treasure splayed out in the open.

You had spotted your sandals by the counter and were stepping into them as Tilly asked daft questions to Gwilym about how he knew me, and just exactly how rich he was. The man answered Tilly with grace and caution. Was he really so easy-going? After apologizing profusely and shooting daggers to your girlfriends it was time to go.

"You can use the pool and the dogs will probably hang out. Francine, you're in charge of disaster prevention!" You pointed your way out of the door, as Gwilym followed with a chuckle. Funnily enough, the brash girl was the clearest head in times of trouble.

Gwilym shuffled toward the garage and as you passed into the musty room, feeling a little sick to your stomach.

"Gwil, are you sure this is how you want to spend your day? I don't want to ask too much of you."

"Oh get in the car. I haven't got a thing to do until Dan gets back tonight. There's no harm in a little road trip, is there?"

"Three hours one way. This is your last chance to back out."

Gwilym was already behind the wheel, buckling his seat belt with a smile. You had no choice but to shrug and scramble in the passenger. At least this ride had a radio.

Five minutes in.

"Where's my turn?" Gwilym panicked, steering the wheel sharply to swerve out of the way of roadkill.

"Next exit. When did you learn to drive in the States? Yesterday?" He was almost too quick to react.

"Ha. Ha." Gwilym produced a dry laugh, speeding up ever so slightly. "Last year. A couple of mates and I spent the summer driving around this very desert, I'll have you know."

"Hmm, I see." You smiled as you tried to picture Gwilym going on some great adventure. As far as you knew, his work was his life. Must be some pretty important pals to have tricked the tall man into having a little long-lasting fun. Was he always so cute when he smiled like that?

20 minutes later.

"It's too late now Gwilym. We're already on the freeway and the next exit is only a private ranch."

"But I want a soda so bad." The Englishman whined. For some reason, that surprised you. You realized you really didn't know this guy at all. But you really wanted too. So you promised Gwilym you'd track down the closest fast-food spot and started into an easy-going conversation.

"What would you be doing today if I wasn't in such desperate need?" You teased but you really wanted to know more about the man. The pretty, pretty man.

"Back home? Probably spending the day at a sports game. Having a few drinks at night. Maybe a film to wrap up the evening? That or working I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." These were things you already knew about Gwil. But you could have listened to him drone on in that delicatessen accent forever and a day.

"What about you? Still out till the odd hours? Still dating that Rodney fellow?"

You couldn't help but let a snort escape you as you turned your head toward Gwil. Had it really been so long since you'd seen him?

"I broke Rodney's heart three years ago, Gwil. I dated around for a while but it's been a busy time. I've not even had time to drink myself sick all year." You smirked. Gwil let out a shocked chuckle. He was right to do so. You used to have a little too much fun.

"No time to do anything but cram. I've not even been to the movies. What do you know about those?" You grinned. It was his dream to act. You felt a little bad for not keeping better track of the local theater. Surely Gwilym had made it to the big screen by now.

"I heard you saw a certain one last night." Gwil pipped up gently. Ah yes, Francine introduced the man at the door as 'Ned.'

"Yeah, that... We found the tape in the cupboard. Your character was a total catch by the way. Any others I've missed out on?"

Your conversation was flowing, and you felt real true ease between your brother's best friend and yourself. Whether it was circumstantial or genuine, you let yourself sink into an appreciation for the magnetic moment.

"Uh... a few," Gwilym spoke. "Do you like the Beatles?"

"Why were you cast as Mr. Harrison or something?" You giggled at Gwil's change of subject.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't a fraud." Gwilym smiled, gesturing to your Sargent Pepper shirt.

"I'm no fraud!" You assured. "I love all that old rock and roll stuff." You'd scored tickets to see Ringo Starr before college kicked off. It was the best damn day of your life.

"Good. Let's have at it then, aye?" Gwil managed to uncover an aux chord from bellow the counsel and plugged it into his phone. The man reached out and cranked the radio up to the tune of Do You Want To Know A Secret. And for just a moment as you sang along, you pretended that Gwilym knew you were singing to him.

2 hours in

You stopped at the In-n-Out one hundred miles inward. Gwyilm finally got his soda and a whole lot more. The pair of you split a giant order of fries and traded burgers when you discovered you liked each other's orders better. You both thought about splitting a shake but you convinced Gwilym to get his own. He downed the sweet treat in minutes, but yours sat beading with sweat in the cup holder now. A couple of inches of the frozen drink rippled in a melted puddle as the Buick crept toward a gas station.

Gwilym stood in the heat to fill the car as you disposed of the collection of fast-food trash.

"Should I get more snacks?" You called out to Gwil from across the otherwise empty lot.

"Why don't we just agree to a nice dinner on the way home?" He shouted back. It sounded like a joke but you knew it wasn't. You went on to purchase some sunflower seeds anyway because you'd want to stash some in your car.

"Don't act like you don't want some of these." You prodded Gwils ribs as you both settled back into your brother's car. He shook his head with a grin as you tore open the packet of sunflower seeds.

"You're unbelievable. I guess I'll have a few." Gwil reached a hand out after revving the engine.

"Alright. How much was gas, while we're at it?" You gave the bag of seeds to Gwilym as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

"It's none of your business. My treat, really. Thank you for sharing." Gwil laid the bag of seeds to rest in your lap as he turned the wheel out of the gas station.

"I'll let you have that one but I'll get you back when you least expect it." You grumbled, snatching the seeds for your own again.

"Let's get back to your opinion on American football. We've got a lot to dissect here." Gwilym smirked, hands lose on the wheel, tires steady on the road. He was getting the hang of this yet!

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." It was the unsexiest innuendo of all time, but with gentle prodding, Gwil had begun to easily open up to you.

///

The car dealership was just outside Vegas and your beloved mustang was roasting in the hot sun, ready to be driven back to safer grounds.

You practically fell to your knees before the mechanic who ordered special parts and offered you a discount for all your troubles.

"Just follow behind, I know the way back." You smiled to Gwilym, admiring the way the soft breeze tousled his hair. "Thanks again for this." He was really a good sport.

You had settled into your old mustang, fingers fitting into the worn-out divots in the steering wheel. But you cursed when you reached for the radio. You had really been pampered all day, in your brothers Buick, with groovy tunes and a whole lot of eye candy.

That's when your phone rang. It was Gwilym.

The desert road was wide open, but you still decided to put the call on speaker and rest the phone on your dash.

"Hello?" You laughed, checking your rearview mirror. Gwil drove your brothers Buick a safe distance behind. You swore you could see Gwilym's bright white teeth as he responded.

"Hello! I've just realized that I promised to take to dinner, but I can't very well do that with you leading the way."

"Oh, that's what this is about?" You snorted, eyeing the mountains across the horizon.

"Where shall we go?" His voice crackled from your dashboard.

"There's an exit in about forty minutes with a few suitable options. Nothing movie star worthy though." You clicked your tongue, wondering if this was all some fever dream brought on by the ninety-degree day.

"Oh stop it. Is there an IHop? I love IHop."

"You do?" You chuckled. Gwilym hummed with certainty.

"Alright." You spoke up, glancing in the rearview once more. Was he looking? "I'm sure we can track one down."

"Thanks, kid." There it was again, that pesky pet name. You didn't like it at all.

"Am I liable to call you old man?" You jabbed, making your feelings known in a light-hearted manner.

"Whoa now, I'll hang up and leave you alone with your broken radio." Gwil threatened. He remembered your telling him your radio was broken? You glanced in the rearview once more and noticed Gwilym holding up his middle finger.

"Hey!" You laughed.

"Eyes on the road!" Gwilym challenged. There were, in fact, shiny cars popcorning over the horizon.

"Alright, alright! Can you Google and drive? I'll be your eyes." You offered, driving ahead of the man.

"Hang on," Gwilym spoke. You smiled and bit your lip to withhold the burst of joy you wanted to scream out. "I've got one. I'm gonna pass you and take this adventure into my own hands if you don't mind."

You could hear Gwilym smile as his car sped up past yours in an instant.

"See ya at IHop old man!" You shouted, swiping the phone call to end before Gwilym could shout back.

Your brothers Buick zoomed past you and began to blend in with the waves of heat on the horizon. You prayed under your breath that the man leading your way wasn't just a mirage.

///

You sat across from your brother's best friend in a sticky old IHop booth while a family of six and an old married couple filled out the other corners of the restaurant. One waitress floated through the otherwise empty diner to cater to all of you as the sun set.

Gwilym ordered a tea and you warned he was going to be disappointed in the Americanized beverage. He shooed off your comment and relaxed in the booth while you sipped your coffee. You wondered how you ended up here, then you wondered how Gwilym ended up here.

"Have you really just come to town for my brother's silly party?" You suddenly quizzed. Dan threw what he called a "mixer" once every year, where all the friends he'd ever known were invited to drink bourbon and pretend it was fun being an adult. This year was a bit of a house warming party, and your whole family was invited.

"Sort of. I wanted to see him anyway and some other friends around LA." Gwilym offered, resting his head on the heel of his hand while he gazed at you.

"I see, I forgot you were a big rom-com star now." You chuckled. Of course, he was in Hollywood to mingle with other bright eyed up and comers.

But Gwilym just rolled his eyes and smiled as the waitress floated by to fill up your coffee cup.

"The last time I saw you was Easter in 2015, do you remember that?" Gwilym sat up a little, twirling his finger around the rim of his mug of tea. You tried really hard not to notice.

"I'm surprised you do. I was late to brunch and you left not long after I showed up." You recalled. That was when he hugged you goodbye, as he was leaving and you were just joining the rest of your family. He lingered around the dining table to finish some conversation with your father, but you don't remember him leaving.

"'Course I remember. You poured something from a flask into your coffee when your mum wasn't looking." Gwil gestured toward your warm cup and you winced in remembrance.

"Those were the days, huh?" You furrowed your brow even though you smiled, a little sick at the thought of drinking anything.

"They aren't anymore?" Gwil seemed to gently pry, and you weren't about to lie to him.

"No, I learned my lesson in the hospital." You shrugged, hoping to never stay that long on an IV drip ever again.

"What?" Gwilym asked. He seemed genuinely concerned and you hadn't realized he didn't know. Dan would usually warn anyone to keep an eye out on you in case you keeled over like you always used to morning noon and night.

"Yeah, I drank myself silly." You laughed, but it wasn't silly at all. That month was shit. "I haven't drank since January."

"Christ." Gwil shot his wide eyes toward you.

"It's a good thing! I like coffee much more, anyway."

"Than this," Gwil gestured around the eatery, "was the perfect choice."

Gwilym's smile was ultraviolet. You admired him in a way you might have anyone else, but the longer you took in his features, they became prettier by the second. You caught yourself staring, but that was usually the case. What caught you further off guard was the way Gwilym seemed to be just as in tune to your conversation as you were. LIke he really wanted to right here, in the middle of nowhere, with his best friend's kid sister.

He was too good to be true. Why had it taken you so long to realize?

///

That same night, you drove your friends back to your flat to the tune of their incessant teasing. You guessed you'd be shocked if Colin Firth showed up to crash your spontaneous slumber party, after watching Love Actually. So, you couldn't blame them, but you could block them out. You found your mind wandering to the weekend. You found yourself thinking of Gwilym.

Your brother's annual gala was three days later. Your parents swung by your flat and gave you a lift all the way across one town to the next so you could all attend your brother's first party in his new home.

You wore torn up mom jeans and a decent blouse, unbothered by most of the guests sporting their finest black-tie looks, like this was the waiting block for Mad Men auditions or something. Everyone was drinking and the smell alone made your blood curdle. You slinked through plastic Hollywood types and decided you didn't need to drink to have fun, or waste your time mingling.

You wound up in the posh den, in a leather recliner, directing your brother's dogs to do tricks. You got Vinny to start barking at his reflection in the flat screen tv , much to the annoyance of the passing guests. But someone was charmed by your antics. Gwyilm leaned against the door frame with a now-familiar smile.

"Vinny, look!" You pointed to the flatscreen while the giant dog spun around to start whining. Gwilym laughed at you, and you whipped your head to find him watching on, drink in hand.

"Are you having a good time?" Gwilym comically quizzed, scooting further into the room. He sat on the arm of the chair you occupied, holding his glass between his legs. You looked up at the British hunk and smiled.

"We are. Violet just learned to shake hands!" You quipped. The dog bounced over at the sound of her name and sat in front of you, ready to show off her new skills.

"Nice to meet you, lady." You teased, holding your palm in front of your brother's dog. Violet raised her paw into your hand and you smiled as you shook it.

"Well before we call the circus and send you off, you better say goodbye to your family. Your mum's been looking for you." Gwilym laughed, shaking his head as he sipped something dark.

God, how embarrassing. Did she send him to find you? Did she think you were passed out in the bushes or worse? With a pursed smile you stood and left the den to find your mother lounging in the living room with a few other, older guests.

"Oh, this is my youngest, Y/N. A very bright girl." Your mother gushed, grabbing on to your writs and pulling you toward the sofa as some middle-aged blonde lady smiled widely at you. Her name was Dawn and she was busy trying to one-up your mother in housewife points. You just gave a fake grin and spun around to find your father asking about your car troubles.

"It's all fixed and fine now." You assured. Dan appeared on the scene, boasting about how his friend Gwilym was kind enough to take you on that trip. Gwil was sitting back on the sofa, smiling at your father as Dan boosted his ego. But he deserved the praise.

"Gwil practically saved my life!" You pointed, spinning toward where the man was settled onto the love seat. In your classic dramatic flare, you flung yourself into Gwilym's lap without thinking. The time you'd spent with the man had stripped away the layer if unfamiliarity between the two of you. And you would have plopped into anyone of your friend's laps. You made sure to bring your hand to your forehead to ensure your swooning was just for show. Even if you happened to feel a swoop of endearment at the prospect of being so close to Gwil. He was stunning. And his fingers were cautiously hovering around you, as if he wanted to hold you but knew better. And as you scooted out of the man's lap toward the cushion beside him, you swore you saw a hunger in his sea-blue eyes.

"Alright, leave the acting to him, you're no good." Daniel batted your hair on his way across the room at the sound of his name being called.

Moments after you peeled yourself off of Gwilym Lee's lap, your sister showed up. You hadn't seen Roxanne in what felt like ages. On her arm, an unassuming botanist called Max, who seemed to be totally head over heels for your older sister. Boy was he in for a treat.

"Hello, Roxy." Gwilym smiled, resting his glass on the coffee table as he stood to greet your sister. And just like that, the usually demure girl practically melted. You couldn't blame her, not anymore. Not after you caught a glimpse at how warm Gwil's smile really was.

"This, uh, this is Max." Roxanne shoved her boyfriend between herself and Gwilym, a human shield. The equally as meek fellow seemed to look up to Gwilym with wonder in his eye. You realized that no one was safe from doing a double-take. Gwilym was just that great.

The party fizzled out. Before the last guests even left, Roxanne kissed her beau and skipped out to the pool house with you, deciding to spend the night for some much-needed one on one time. You stole some of Daniel's sweatshirts and snacks from your brother's home and locked yourselves into the private little hut in his back yard.

After nearly a full hour of listening to your sister gush over how much she liked Max and how their relationship was taking off, Roxanne got quiet.

"I didn't realize Gwil was in town." Roxanne sheepishly admitted, reaching to the bowl of popcorn between the two of you.

"Yeah, I was surprised too." You realized. "I can't believe you still have a thing for him."

Roxanne laughed and shook her head as if that was all behind her now. But then she bit her lip and looked at you to tell her secret.

"No harm in looking, right?" She shrugged. Roxanne really did seem happy with her new boyfriend. But anyone with eyes could see Gwilym's glow and would probably long to bask in it all the same. You weren't blind to that any longer.

///

Emma and Francine were busy sitting around your apartment doing nothing, terribly bored of it all. Tilly had gone back to visit her family while the summer raged on, leaving the three of you to your own usual devices. Your brother had asked you to stay a little while longer, but he and Gwil took the dogs to a hiking trail and you got bored alone in the pool house after your sister went home. So you drove back to your flat where your roommates decided to waste away together.

"There's nothing good on tv. And I don't wanna go out. Why is nothing fun anymore?" You complained. The days of dancing the night away seemed like a waste of time to you now. There had been lots of fun last year, and the ones before. Maybe too much fun. When you weren't drinking you were asleep in someone else's bed. Casual dating turned into some kind of game. And it all started when Francine challenged you to get with as many people as you could take a shot for. And naturally, you were down to take the drinking challenge, but you took way too many shots that night. And you started zipping through one night stands like it was your job and you needed extra rent. You felt nothing, numbed by so many drinks. And near the end of your manic episode, you thought that maybe the more people you shagged, you'd eventually feel for one of them. But that never happened. Even when you brought some of them home and tried to mold them into a little perfect box.

You had a lot of time to reevaluate in the hospital. You hoped with your new lease on life that meaning would seep back through your cracks. But sitting around your old dusty apartment bored you. Wasn't there any balance anymore? Your phone buzzed you out of deep thought.

Gwil: How'd you get Violet to shake your hand? She won't listen to me or Dan!

You: I'm a dog whisperer. ;)

"We could do arts and crafts!" Emma chirped like a hopeful preschooler.

"It's too hot to think of having fun." Francine moaned, sprawled across the sofa with her upper half sliding down toward the floor.

Your phone buzzed again. Gwilym responded with the meme of the angry-looking cat sitting at the dinner table. You let out a breathy laugh that fanned through your nose. Before you could think of responding Gwilym had sent another text.

Gwil: I'll find out your secret one day.

You: Take a hike!

He should have been trekking through scenic California mountains instead of sending you memes.

"Earth to Y/N! Why are you smiling at your phone like that when we're in the middle of a boredom crisis meeting?"

"What?" You blanched. Had you really been lost in the short-lived conversation between Gwilym and yourself? He was just too good to be true. Of course, you were transfixed by the lad.

"Yeah, who are you talking to? Is Stu back from Ibiza? Are you two hooking up again?" Francine challenged, sitting up on the sofa with a knowing grin.

"God no, not Stu. He stole my underwear. That fucking creep." You shivered at the memory of your very last and longest hookup. Emma grimaced in response, but Francine, like always, wasn't satisfied.

"So who is it then?" The girl's honey-brown eyes filled with mischief as she reached for your phone.

"Why do you think it has to be anybody?" You whined, trying to lean further back before Francine could launch her self toward you. But it was too late, she latched onto your cell like a falcon, and scanned the screen. Her lips turned into a wild smile while Emma turned her head in anticipation.

"It's Ned!" Francine let out a burst of laughter as you dove back toward her to rescue your stolen device.

"Ned from the movie?" Emma questioned.

"What other Ned's do you know, Emma?" Francine rang, allowing you to take back your phone.

"The dad from the Try Guys." Emma shrugged. You would have laughed if you didn't feel your stomach fall away. What was there to be so nervous about?

"Why is movie star Ned sending you memes? How do you even know him, again?" Francine sat straight up against some throw pillows to begin her interrogation.

"When Daniel moved to London for college, he and Gwilym became the best of friends." You sighed, reminding Francine of the name of the man she kept referring to.

"He sent you a meme, Y/N." Francine rose her brows like she was alluding to something more.

"After he drove you across the desert and back," Emma added, pointing your way.

"Yeah, I guess he's my friend too." You gapped. Well he was, wasn't he? Your phone buzzed again and everyone's eyes filled with curiosity as you kept your phone clutched to your chest.

"He's also a movie star!" Francine rang.

"Just because he was in some Australian rom-com doesn't mean anything-"

"What other movies has he been in? Maybe he's loaded and you guys can be Hollywoods new it couple." Emma cooed like she was dreaming for herself.

"I don't know- the last time I saw Gwil was years ago I hardly think-"

"Babe. I can tell you're into him so do away with excuses!" Francine leaned over the sofa to rest a hand on your knee.

"Guys, I'm just now really getting to know him..." You reasoned, trying like mad to pretend his gloriously pretty face wasn't always on your mind.

"He's hot. I'm talking mega beautiful. I don't blame you. And he basically already took you on a date." Francine remained trying to get you to crack.

"Uh, guys..." Emma was fixated on her phone screen when you and Francine whipped your heads toward the girl. She began to squeal through her teeth as she bolted from the pull out bed and skipped toward the coffee table to snatch the remote.

"What are you doing, Emma?" You asked but it sounded more like a warning. She only giggled as the tv buzzed to life. After a quick search on your shared Amazon account, a film from last year started to play.

"Are you trying to tell us that Gwilym is in Bohemian Rhapsody? Wasn't that nominated for a bunch of awards?" Francine focused on Emma who was staring at the screen in anticipation.

"Oh my God." You sighed. Not only did were you turned off by the thrill of seeing Gwil on screen, you felt horrible for not knowing your brother's best friend was in a damn blockbuster. Had you really been so far gone in party land that you were that blinded to the world around you? Francine picked up on your unease and tried to talk you into the spirit.

"He's probably just in the background for a second. But we have to watch it, so, Let's just get it over with."

Emma let out a nervous giggle as an actor opened his eyes on the screen. You literally held your breath while the film crept through the introduction. And then you saw him. Dawning a curly black wig and a smile that belonged to someone else.

"Oh no." You groaned at the exact moment Francine let out an excitable laugh.

"Your boyfriend is Brian May!" She squealed. Gwilym wasn't your boyfriend, but he was nearly identical to the guitarist of Queen. You loved their music. You loved their story. But you had totally missed the posters and promotions for the film that featured Gwil's name in lights. You decided then and there that you would never drink again. You and your friends watched the rest of the film in total rapture. Emma decided the blonde playing Roger was the new love of her life. Francine started to cry when the lad playing Freddie walked out of the doctor's office. You held her hand as the band kicked off Live Aid and when the credits rolled, Emma hit mute and you three stared at each other for a beat, lost for words.

"I sort of forgot all about Ned. He's a proper actor, isn't he?" Francine looked to you like she'd just seen a ghost. You could only muster a stunned nod of exact agreement.

"I just remembered something... my sister in law saw this in theaters like four times. She's totally obsessed with it. Let's call her!" Emma reached across the pull out bed to claim her cell phone before you could stop her.

"No, Emma this is ridiculous! It's not like I don't know Gwil." You reasoned.

"You just said that you were just getting to know him. And trust me when I say that no one knows an actor better than the fandom." Francine lifted her brow as if to prove a point. The girl was still obsessed with Supernatural, and would spout off info about the actors she kept up learning online. But it was all hearsay, wasn't it?

"That's insanely untrue, just so you know." You nodded to Francine, hoping to coax her out of that toxic mindset. The phone was ringing through Emma's speaker and before anyone could day more, someone answered.

"Susan! What do you know about Gwilym Lee?" Emma giggled, resting her phone on the bed with her speaker's volume all the way up. You buried your head in your hands as Francine wrapped an encouraging arm around your shoulder.

"You mean Brian May's clone?" Susan the sister in law crackled through the cell phone. She wasn't wrong. Halfway through the film, you'd nearly forgotten the real members of Queen weren't actually there.

"Is that a compliment? I mean really tell me about this guy. Sell him to me." Emma bargained, propping herself up on her elbows and kicking her feet behind her.

"Okay..." The girl on the phone breathed and suspense built up in your stomach while you waited for a stranger to list of facts about your brother's best friend. "Gwilym is perfect for starters. He's into sports and he's totally obsessed with his castmates. They still see each other all the time. Gwil seems totally devoted and passionate. Rumor has it he's engaged. The good ones are always taken."

You suddenly felt like a ghost of your former giddy self. Why should you have felt so sick? So what if he was engaged? He was just your friend. But friends were supposed to tell each other these sorts of things, weren't they?

"Engaged?" Emma squealed, practically causing the silky pull out bed to ripple from her risen octave.

"Well, it's just a rumor. There are no pictures of a ring or a girl or anything. But where there's smoke there's fire. Anyway, can I tell you about the rest of the cast?"

Francine sat up beside you, casting fiery eyes into yours as she reached for her phone to begin investigating for herself.

"No, I've gotta go." Emma hung up with no explanation, flinging her legs over the edge of the rickety couch bed.

"She's right, there's no evidence." Francine rang, turning her phone to me with a slim Google result list.

"Not to be a downer but I feel like there's gotta be something going on, right?" Emma glanced at you with big sad eyes.

"I- I don't know. Maybe he is? He's talked for ages about his family. Never said a word about a girl."

"That's because he's into you and he's on a great American fling. If there's a girl he's not going to say so." Francine reasoned. She was right. She had to be. Gwilym was too beautiful and endearing to have been single. You were just a good flirt.

I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction... 'cause I try and I...

Your phone was ringing. And your friend's eyes were glued to your every move. You were only a little shocked to find Gwilym's name flickering across your dim screen now. But as you snatched the phone to answer you felt your chest tighten between a rope of anxious nerves.

"Hi, Gwil." You tried to sound nonchalant as you stood up and pointed a warning finger to your friends. But they, of course, couldn't be expected to hold back their bursts of excitable chirps.

"Hi-"

"Hang on!" You warned, making a break for your bedroom. There was little hope your friends would settle their giggles because as they chased after you to beg to eavesdrop, they were squealing far too loudly. After dramatically flinging yourself behind your locked bedroom door you answered the phone once more.

"Okay! Hi!" You sighed, trying desperately to even out your breathing.

"Is this a bad time?" Gwilym quizzed over the phone. You cast your eyes across your well-kept room with a smile.

"No! Just... what's up?" You wondered in turn. No time was a bad time for Gwilym.

"Alright." The man let out a chuckle before continuing. "Well, this might be a stretch, but here it goes. I was going to bring Dan with me to a premier tomorrow. He had to cancel last minute for work, yet again. I've already got a plus one, so, would you like to come with me?"

"I'm second best, huh?" You laughed, stepping further into the room, past a stack of books around the corner.

"Well, first if you think about it! Dan called dibs, but I... well I called you."

Oh dear. You had to remind yourself to breathe as Gwilym went on to say,

"I think you'd get on well with my mates is all, and you seemed to have a free week. Asking seemed worth a shot."

"I see." You bit your lip. Was he really being as forward as he sounded? Was he really engaged? "Well, I'd love a night out. Only if you're sure though."

"Oh, I'm sure. Come round Dan's by seven?" You could hear him smile.

"Okay." You agreed while still holding your breath. "See you soon, Gwil."

“Get undressed, Dear, put this on and get on the bed,”  Fred said, tossing Roger a robe.  Roger moved past Fred and undressed rapidly, throwing his clothes in a pile on the floor, as Fred disappeared into the bathroom.

Roger put the robe on and lay on the bed, his smooth chest and legs exposed. He started to stroke his cock in anticipation of what lay ahead.  Fred emerged wearing a robe, which he slithered off as he climbed on top of Roger, who released himself and tossed his own robe quickly.  Freddie started to kiss Roger deeply and Roger offered devouring kisses in return, their cocks aligned, growing as they thrusted into each other.

“Oh, God,” Roger moaned, in between kisses. “I’ve missed this, Fred.  You’re just so…divine, so sexy…” Roger’s voice lilted.

Fred winked at Roger and reached over to grab the lube on the side table and started putting it on his fingers. “Why don’t you get on all fours. Let’s get to it.”

“Wow, just like that? No foreplay??”  Roger joked.

“That concert was foreplay,” Fred responded. “Our dicks were hard for two hours. Took everything I had not to push you over your fucking drums and take you right there on the stage.” Fred growled.

The image was arousing to Roger, however uncomfortable and logistically complicated it might have been.

“I kinda feel like a slut, Fred.  “You don’t bring me flowers, you don’t sing me love songs.” (1)” Roger laughed.  He knew that this relationship did not have those trappings, nor were they needed.  They loved each other as old friends and bandmates and once-in-a-blue-moon fuck buddies.  And that was enough. More than enough, really. Roger assumed the position for Freddie.

“True, but tonight, I bring you these,” Freddie winked, as he showed Roger his long, slicked fingers, and he slid one, two, then three fingers gently into Roger, who moaned with each entrance.  Finally, Freddie positioned himself behind Roger who was panting.  “Jesus, Fred...Fuck me...” On his knees, Fred bent forward into a perfect flat-back draping himself over Roger, one arm holding himself up and the other wrapped around the younger man.  Freddie slowly parted Roger’s hole with his throbbing member, and Roger let out an anticipatory moan.

Suddenly the door clicked with a key. “Freddie, I want you to see this”...the voice trailed off. It was Deacy, holding a magazine, suddenly stopping, his mouth agape as he witnessed his bandmates primed before him. The magazine tumbled out of his hands.

Roger turned his head from his doggie position to look back at the disruption. “Oh shit. I’m never going to get fucked,” he mumbled as he grabbed the robe off the floor, draping it over himself as he turned around and sat.

There was indeed cause for concern.

Fred moved away from Roger instantly, covered himself hastily with the blanket and faced a stunned Deacy. “Deacy, Love, you know, this is just, just an occasional, um, meeting Roger and I have...”

“An occasional meeting, huh? And, is there a written agenda for this meeting?” John retorted snidely.

Roger let out a hearty laugh.  Don’t let that sweet smile fool you, he thought. That boy can slay!  Roger stopped his hilarity suddenly as Freddie shot him a stern glare.

“Oh, Deacy. I have heart eyes only for you.  It just..it goes way back.  Do you want to join? Could be fun!  And Roger could use a little foreplay. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Would you, Rog?” Roger took a deep breath and let it out audibly.

“I suppose not,” Roger knew he didn’t have a choice. He felt jealous feelings rise inside of him. Freddie had such a clear desire and concern for Deacy that they became enmeshed in their own world and everything else just vanished sometimes. It was tough for Roger to imagine someone loving him so completely like that. He was happy for them, but he couldn’t help but wonder if that would that love ever happen to him.

He and Brian knew Freddie suffered from ‘a crazy little thing called Deacy love.’ Those boys had a deep bond on stage, in the studio, at the pub, always. Freddie drew Deacy out and helped him feel comfortable with band life, and Deacy could snap Fred out of one of his moods in a heartbeat with a firm yet caring talk, a loaded stare or a wry joke. Their music interests and humor were in sync. Their love ran deep. Once in Vegas Roger heard them through the wall in Freddie’s room next door, their jokes and banter turning subdued over the evening.  Deacy’s moans were punctuated by his utterances of “Freddie oh, Freddie” most of the night, and Freddie spoke to Deacy softly as they made gentle, passionate love.

In terms of Freddie’s affection and attention, Deacy always won.  

Turning off his thoughts,  Roger was intrigued by Deacy joining them. He was handsome in an understated way with a firm body.  He found himself watching Deacy’s firm ass and toned thighs from his drums. He loved it when Deacy danced so freely.  Deacy meanwhile was warming up to the idea himself, though he was a little intimidated by Roger’s infamous bedroom prowess.  He blinked, a bit incredulous at the thought of fooling around with the prettiest, most luscious, most desirable boy, so sweet even when he was acting cheeky or staring into space, blind as a bat, because he was too stubborn to wear his glasses.  

“Come on over, Darling,” Fred motioned to Deacy, who advanced toward the bed tentatively.  “Let’s go over the rules,”  Fred said.  Deacy raised an eyebrow at the word ‘rules.’ Roger’s mouth opened and he blurted out “Rules??”

Freddie continued, “You boys can fool around, but only I can fuck Deacy and only I can make Deacy come.”

“Are you joking??!!!!” Roger asked incredulously. Deacy smiled, pleased with the arrangement- and the thought of Roger being disappointed in their limited contact.  And, he was relieved that Freddie wanted to pleasure him. “Roger, do you want to get fucked or not?” Freddie asked with a laugh.

Roger gave a sly smile, looking down, and threw his robe to the floor.  He said with his gruff yet high pitched voice, “Come on over, Deacy. Why don’t you strip for us?”  As Deacy stripped slowly tossing his clothes on the floor, both Freddie and Roger eyed him lustfully. Deacy crawled on the bed and turned his attention to Roger knowing he was disappointed by his intrusion. He started to kiss him and laid him back on the bed. Deacy planted kisses down Roger’s smooth chest.  

“Are you going to be a good boy for me, Roger?” Deacy cooed with a broad grin, raising his head to look at Roger.  

Roger’s eyes widened. He let out a little moan staring at Deacy, “Y..Yessss.” 

Freddie gasped at Deacy’s boldness, “Deacy??’  Deacy’s mouth continued its journey down Roger’s slender frame and ended up sucking a moaning and increasingly hard Roger. 

“Jesus Christ, You’re so good, Deacy,” Roger said, as Deacy took more of Roger’s hard cock into his mouth.  Deacy popped off of him with a crooked grin.  “I learned from the best,” he said, giving Freddie a wink.  Freddie was stroking his own hard cock and laughed at Deacy. “C’mon, Deacy, you know flattery will get you EVERYWHERE.”

Suddenly, Roger pulled out and flipped Deacy over onto his back and got on top of him, astride him on all fours. Freddie looked on and said, “Super, we’re back where we started. Now with two hot boys. Roger, suck Deacy and bring him to the edge for me and I’ll take care of you.” Deacy leaned against headboard, his cock strategically placed under Roger’s head.

Freddie lubed up his cock and fingers and again assumed the position behind Roger. He fingered him again, feeling him relax and open as he probed him.

“You’re such a pretty boy, Roger. Just so pretty,” Fred gushed. “Isn’t he, Deacy?”

“Oh, God, yes,” Deacy uttered.  “I..I can’t believe I’m looking up at him like this, for he’s so fine, so fine (2).”

“You ready for me?”  Freddie asked Roger.

“Ready Freddie,” Roger responded, and they all laughed. (I couldn’t help it)

Freddie pushed himself into Roger who thrusted back toward Freddie and groaned. Roger bent his head and starting sucking Deacy’s hard cock as Freddie moved in and out of Roger. Deacy moaned, thrusting into Roger’s hot and eager mouth and reached his hand up to grab Roger’s aching cock.  

“Oh, Fuck, Deacy like that. Harder Freddie, fuck me Harder.  I’m not gonna last with you boys...Oh, Fuck....”  Roger’s movements melded to the rhythm of Freddie’s thrusts and Deacy’s hand, causing him the most intense pleasure.

“UGH, give it to me, boys.” Freddie gave a few quick strong thrusts and Deacy jerked Roger harder.  Roger released his load through Deacy’s fingers onto his chest. Roger and Freddie kept moving together as Roger landed after his climax.

“That was incredible,” Roger said, panting.

“Beautiful.,” Fred said as he pulled out. He turned Roger over and leaned in to kiss him.  “My dear, dear friend.  I love you. Now, I’ll finish Deacy.”

Roger got up, grabbed a wet towel and helped clean up Deacy, who laid on his back, ready for his lover.

Fred sat on his heels in front of Deacy’s outstretched firm body.

“Playing with Roger got you hot for me, Love?”

“That. Was. Really. Hot….Fuck me, Freddie,” Deacy replied breathlessly.

Freddie stood on his knees and applied lube to his fingers and brought Deacy’s legs around his waist. He fingered Deacy and then entered him slowly, causing him to gasp. Roger stroked himself watching the action. Fred and John rocked together gracefully, loving so warm, moving so right (3).  They were well practiced.

“’I’m close,” John panted.

“You’re taking me so well, Darling. I want to feel you come.” Fred cooed, and John climaxed, “ohhhh, Freddie, Oh, God, I love you.”  “And, I love you too, Deacy.” Fred said, as he picked up the pace slightly and came urgently, with a moan.  They eased their movements and Fred slipped out of John, kissing him passionately on the lips and down his neck.

“Come here.”  Fred gestured to Roger and he kissed him gently. They all cleaned up and then stretched under the covers, Freddie in the middle spooning Deacy with his arms around him, Roger behind Freddie, holding him, all of them satisfied.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door connecting the two adjoining suites.  “Hey, Fred, you in there? Where the hell is everyone?” Brian jimmied the door and it opened.  He walked in and saw the three boys lounging in the bed, holding each other, their glistening naked bodies poking out from the sheet, clothes and robes strewn on the floor.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Brian said with a tight grin.  “You boys had a party and didn’t think to invite me?  You know how hurt that makes me feel?” Brian fixed a pout on his lips, trying to cover a smile.  “I think you boys need to make it up to me.  Brian came over to the bed and sat down.   Looking around, he thought his scene was surprising in a way, but he figured it was bound to happen at some point.  

“Oh, crap,” Freddie mumbled, stifling a laugh.  The other boys giggled nervously.  “Fasten your seat belts, boys, Brian’s going to teach us a lesson, but good.”  

“Hardly,” Brian said, softening his tone. “Well… not tonight, anyway,” he said with a gleam in his eye.   He became suddenly sullen; his joking stopped.  He swallowed and glanced at the boys, and then looked down.

“Brian, Darling, what’s wrong??” Freddie asked with concern.

“I wanted to joke with you, but you know, truth be told, I really AM a little hurt.”  He shook his head flustered.  “It’s just, well, I guess I feel a little jealous that you all… had each other…so intimately.”  

“Sorry Darling, it wasn’t intentional to leave you out, really. It just sort of happened.” Fred said sincerely. “Please forgive us, Brian. “Oh how strong can you be with matters of the heart? Life is much too short to while away with tears.” (4)

“You can join next time!” Roger crowed enthusiastically.

“Alright then,” Brian chuckled softly. “I certainly will!”  Suddenly, he crawled up the bed, leaned his long body over the three spooning boys and started to tickle and kiss them, and they all dissolved into laughter.

SONG NOTES

(1)   You Don’t Bring me Flowers, Neil Diamond and Barbra Streisand

(2)   He’s so Fine, The Chiffons

(3)   Somewhere in the Night, Barry Manilow