@surviveds ——— his friends all look at him like they're waiting impatiently for him to get back to normal, slip back into the spotlight with ease and get back to business as usual. they need him; he's the real star power of kettle springs, their following certainly not there for their ridiculous content but rather who they'll find in it: cole with his charm, with eyes that flirt with the camera to make any viewer feel like they know him and inevitably want him, with his perfect professionalism.
but cole can't be that person right now, he can't be their lighthearted friend who knows how to make any party fun, can't be the guy the town loves and expects the greatest of things from, can't be the boy who smiles at everyone and makes everyone feel okay, just for a moment, because he doesn't feel okay. he's trying, but most of the attempts from his friends to 'comfort him' come in forms of a distraction that he didn't ask for— what if we try another video? whatever you want, cole, you can be the star. it'll help. he can't shake the feeling that those offers are for their own benefit, a desperate plea to get back to normalcy, to forget about what happened to victoria hill on that cliff.
he doesn't get forget, not with the way his father looks at him like he's got blood on his hands, or the way the townspeople treat him now like he should've died instead. sometimes, it's hard not to hear it, to remind himself that this is his fault, because she died on his watch, but he's not the one who bashed her head in, the way his father seems to talk, and he's desperately trying to find some peace in that— peace he won't find amongst his friends.
there's only one person he knows will listen to him, who will know what exactly cole needs — his presence, as simple as that. his arms, wrapped around cole to provide him warmth for the first time in days. his voice, bringing him home in a way he cannot find at hill manor.
he opens his phone to rust's messages— a stream of photos and texts from rust that have gone unanswered over the years, something cole doesn't allow himself to feel guilty for in the moment, focusing only on what has always been consistent between him and ruston: they love each other. they know each other.
[TEXT TO — Rusty😑]: meet at our spot.
he doesn't wait for rust to reply, to confirm he can meet him, because despite how low he's felt lately, he still has the confidence in knowing rust will show up for him. maybe that's less about cole and more about who ruston is— he's the kind of guy who won't hold cole's faults against him when he knows cole needs him. he's the kind of guy who will keep showing up for cole, even when cole can't show up for rust.
cole knows rust deserves better than that. but despite the distance between them, at the heart— he's the only person cole has ever referred to as his best friend, even if he will forever, always be more than that, too.
he'd texted rust from his car, immediately making his way to the familiar spot in the woods, where they'd spent hours (sometimes, full nights) many times before, sometimes intentionally, sometimes impulsively, sometimes... accidentally. still, he's relieved to see that he isn't the first one here, not at all surprised that rust had beaten him, come at all. then again, maybe he was already here, hoping to see him, too. he's quick to park the jeep, the exhaustion hitting him all at once, and all he can think about is collapsing into rust's arms.
nearly stumbling out of the car, he catches his balance on the hood of it, freezing just for a moment as he watches rust stand outside his truck. cole offers no greeting, no gratitude for the completed request. instead, he pushes himself away from the car, then slowly walks towards rust, meeting his eyes briefly before he wraps his arms around rust's waist and brings him into an embrace, burying his face rust's shoulder.
