Leslie wasn’t here, so he has no reason to be here either. He could just buy the granola bar that had made its way to his hand, and a drink once he stopped staring blankly at the wall of soda, and then leave. And never come back- no.

Leslie wasn’t here, and he was out of time. He was headed up to the register, items in hand, and cleared his throat. The clerk shoved a notebook under the counter as she finally acknowledged him.

Leslie wasn’t here, but clearly this kid has to know them. He could just buy his things, a Dr. Pepper and a snickers had made their way into his hands now, leave a message for them, and then leave. And go into hiding immediately- also no.

“Hey, anything else?” She was small, definitely young with light blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. A sticker name tag on her shirt read “Olive”.

“No.” He answered on autopilot. It was too late to back out now, Micah would never come back if he stopped here. “Well-”

She had already finished scanning and bagging, and her hand paused over a button on the screen. A raised eyebrow was the only form of question asked.

“Is Leslie here?” He hoped the question didn’t sound as shaky as it felt.

Given the suspicious narrowing of her eyes, it did. “Why?” The question was drawn out as she leaned back away from the counter, arms folding over her chest.

“I just-” The words caught in his throat. “We uh- Well I just thought I’d stop by to say hi,” that’s a normal thing to do, right? “but they’re not here, so. Another time.” Something about those blue eyes were too sharp for his stress levels currently, instead he chose to keep his eyes locked on the pin pad, it was stuck on a rotating processing screen.

“Who are you?” The question startled him enough to break his stare.

“Micah?” It came out as a question more than an answer.

The narrowed eyes widened a bit in recognition. Not a good sign. “I can get them if you want.” Finally, the processing screen ended and the pin pad chimed urgently for him to remove his card.

“No, that’s alright.” Play it cool. This was fine, Micah wasn’t panicking at all. “I’ll catch them some other time.” He tried giving her a smile.

“Sure…” He didn’t like the tone of her voice as she pushed the bag towards him and held out the receipt. “See ya, then.”

“Yeah.” He was thankful to have something to hold again. “See you around.” It was a small town so it probably was true either way.

The chime of the bell was jarring again as he rushed to leave the store. He wasn’t looking where he was going, too focused on his feet and what to do next that he didn’t process that there was a person in front of him until they had fully collided. Micah was bounced backwards, and would've surely ended up on his ass were it not for the hands on his shoulders, holding him upright.

“Fuck, I am so so sorry.” The apologies were rolling off his tongue before he had even looked up. The rest of whatever he had planned to say was purged from his head when he found himself face to, well, chest, with Leslie.

“Chill,” They brushed the creases out of the fabric of his sweater and gave him a half smile. “No harm no foul.” The smell of sandalwood and something sweet invaded Micah’s senses, artificial cherry clung to their breath. “You got somewhere to be?”

“No, not really.” Micah tried to take a deep breath as he took a step back, out of their space. “I just stopped by to say hi, I thought you weren’t here today.”

“I’m always here, Micah,” They said it with an eye roll. “but I’m glad I caught you, it looked like you were in a hurry.” With a hand on his shoulder, Leslie turned Micah around before throwing an arm over his shoulder, pulling them both back into the store, out of the biting wind.

“Oh good.” Olive was back to being focused on her notebook as they re-entered the store. “Your friend found you.” Micah didn’t have the brain power to decipher her tone, being pulled so close to Leslie’s side.

Physical touch was something that Micah had never been used to. Always overwhelming and forceful on his nervous system, usually sending it into a spiral. Leslie didn’t seem to have that problem, always ruffling hair or putting an arm on your shoulder or a pat on the back. They were touchy, and Micah hadn’t yet gotten used to it.

“Micah,” Leslie finally released him, but kept a hand on his shoulder, holding him at arms length, using their other hand to gesture at him, and then to Olive, “this is Olive. Olive, Micah. She works here on occasion.”

”Leslie violates child labor laws.” She didn’t look up from the notebook, continuing to detail the eye that Micah could now see.

“I don’t.” Leslie chuckled as they gave Olive’s hair a rough tousle, which she ignored. “She hangs around enough, figured I might as well put her to work.”

”Careful,” Olive finally looked up at Micah, “They’ll get you too. I think they’re starting to form a habit of it.”

”So what’s up?” Leslie seemed content to ignore the warning as they reattached their name tag. “You free for the day?”

”Y-yeah, my last class got out a bit ago.” He was starting to relax into the environment, the bickering reminded him of his siblings. “Figured I’d get some snacks before getting into my readings.”

”We’re kinda out of the way aren’t we?”

”And I wanted to say hi?” Again it came out as more of a question than he wanted it to.

Leslie took a moment to study him, eyes searching and laced with worry. The anxious itchy feeling was coming back, he could practically feel the pressure of their eyes on him, and the quiet in the room wasn’t helping. Carly Rae Jepsen was playing softly over the speakers. Apparently Leslie had found what they were looking for because they finally broke the silence.

”Wanna hang here? We won’t bother you if you need to focus.” Neither of them had noticed Olive studying the exchange.

”Sure,” Micah hadn’t expected the wave of relief that washed over him at the offer. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

”Cool.” It was the only response Leslie gave before working to pull a small folding table and accompanying chair closer to the counter for him.

Before he knew it, Micah was settled at the table, heavy anthropology textbook open before him, with notebooks and highlighters spread around it. Leslie and Olive were on opposite sides of the counter, Leslie in the process of teaching her how to play poker. It took Micah three games to realize that Olive was hustling them. It took Leslie five. Eventually, Micah was roped into the game, his reading left half-done and pushed to one side of the table to make room. Their pot consisted of a handful of snack sized candies and raunchy stickers, and they were all playing to win. Customers filtered in and out, but all of them seemed accustomed to the shenanigans of the store. One joined in for a round after making their purchase, but almost all of them at least inquired as to who was winning. Olive proudly told them about her initial con. It was amusing to watch her puff out her chest, and see Leslie try to defend themself by guilting her. It wasn’t effective.

Soon enough, the sky was darkening and the street lights were turning on. As full dark began to set in, Olive received a very worried call from her foster parent, which Leslie had to take over. Ten minutes, and plenty of complaining, later, a car pulled up to take her home, and it was just the two of them left in the store.

“Thanks for letting me hang around today.” Micah was slowly packing up his supplies, keeping his hands busy.

”You’re welcome anytime.” Leslie was partway across the room, starting the actual work that had been avoided throughout the evening. “I know it can be hard.”

Their honesty never failed to take him by surprise, and a stillness hung in the air. For some reason, he felt like he should apologize. “It was a lot of fun, if I’m honest. Olive is… a character.”

”Better get used to her.” Leslie chuckled. “I can’t seem to get rid of her.”

The zipper of his backpack drew Leslie’s attention away from their sweeping.”I guess I should probably be heading back.” Neither of them moved.

”Where’s your roommate?”

He didn’t understand how they always seemed to know what was happening before he said anything. “Left for home yesterday night. Early weekend.” It felt like an admission of guilt.

There was another pause, they just stood, each watching the other. “I can at least give you a ride home.” They crossed the room in a few slow strides, leaning the broom against the counter as they started to go for their keys. Micah watched as they hesitated, turning halfway to look at him. “Or you could stay, if you want?”

“Are you sure you want to post this? Isn’t Elina your ex?”

Jacob bent his grin halfway up despite his brown eyes narrowing at the press reporter like two daggers.

“And?”

He asked but with a confidence that made the reporter suddenly and eerily unsure of Jacob’s intent. Of course, he was sure. The plan was to get Elina back, and the bad press played an intricate part in that persuasion. See, whether Elina believed it or not — she needed him. And he needed her, neither would survive in their world without the other. That wasn’t an exaggeration. It was a fact.

In Jacob’s mind, he and Elina were born and made for each other. His bad habits would get the better of him, and it would continue regardless of his promises. And he was entitled to them because they were born different than everyone else. They had a power that no one could touch because Elina and Jacob were of the same elite group. Only a woman like her was strong enough to handle his weak habits. She was a prize that he needed to hold. Some would not define his love for her as their definition of it, but it was authentic to him nonetheless. Love to him was like having power. You don’t just let that go. His eyes and appetite may wander from time to time, but to Elina, he would always return. Why couldn’t she see that? After all, Elina’s father did the same for her stepmother. Jacob knew how Elina saw their relationship. He knew everything about his darling ex, whether she wanted him to or not.

Keeping tabs on Elina was for her protection. So was this fake press piece. Jacob needed Elina to realize that without him this would continue to worsen. People wouldn’t care about her if she was on her own, but with him? Jacob could have the world begging for her. Applauding her every action and worshipping the ground she walked on. Success is what they both wanted, and they both needed it. Families like theirs would not settle for the unaccomplished ruin of their children. Together, and only together, would Jacob and Elina reach their full potential. Both families knew it and pushed them to be together. Elina was the only one fighting it, and for what? A chance to be truly loved? It was a pathetic fantasy she had that he would rip from the dreamer in her so that she could reach the potential she could be with him. Elina and her reputation were all that mattered, and he would destroy both if he could not have her. He was doing this all for her.

That’s love.

“Post the story.”

He commanded. The reporter, who may have his doubts, decided not to question it. After all, Cox was the last name signed on his paycheck. How could he say no? That’s the kind of power Jacob had. He knew how to use it, and he would use it to get Elina back. She needed a little push. She was no better than him. Her image was just as important to her as his image was to him. Deep down, he understood her better than anyone ever could. The thought only added to his argument that they needed each other. She needed him. And a few hours later, after the story hit the headlines, Elina proved that by sending a text.