Chapter Text
Kimi does not wake up gently.
There is no slow drift into consciousness, no soft morning stretch, no peaceful moment where his brain gets to catch up with his body.
No.
Kimi is dragged out of sleep by something heavy slamming into his back and ribs at the same time, the mattress dipping violently beneath him, air punched straight out of his lungs before his brain even has time to catch up. There is shouting. There is laughter. There is a knee somewhere near his spine and an elbow that definitely just collided with his shoulder, and for one brief, horrifying second, Kimi is convinced the house is under attack.
He jerks upright with a strangled noise, half-tangled in his blanket, heart racing so fast it makes his chest hurt. “What the—” he chokes out, voice rough and panicked, hands scrambling blindly as if he can physically push whatever this is away from him.
“RISE AND SHINE DARLING!!”
That sounds like Gabi.
Wait, no, that is absolutely most definitely Gabi.
Before he can fully process that, something else crashes into him from the side, sending him tipping sideways back into the mattress with a startled yelp. “Wake up, loser!” Franco’s voice follows immediately after, far too delighted for someone who has just committed what should legally count as assault.
Kimi freezes.
Because now his brain is awake.
And now he realises what is happening.
And now—
“Oh my God,” he breathes, horrified, because there are people. There are multiple people. In his room. On his bed. On him. “What are you doing—why are you—get off me!”
No one gets off him.
If anything, Gabi shifts his full weight onto his back with zero remorse, and Franco just laughs, completely unbothered, bracing himself on his hands as he leans over Kimi like this is the funniest thing he has ever witnessed.
Kimi attempts to sit up again, fails because there is a whole human being on top of him, and ends up twisting awkwardly instead, blanket half falling off his shoulders.
And that’s when Isack speaks.
“Smile for the camera, Kimi.”
Kimi’s stomach drops.
He turns his head slowly.
And there is Isack, standing a few feet away with his phone already up, camera pointed directly at him, a grin spreading across his face that spells absolute disaster.
“No,” Kimi says immediately, voice cracking as he drags a hand up to his face, because—oh no. Oh no.
There is drool.
There is actual drool.
On his face.
He can feel it.
“Oh my God, stop,” he groans, trying to wipe it off with the sleeve of his shirt, which only makes it worse because now his sleeve is damp, and this is a nightmare, and he is never going to recover from this. “Delete that. Delete it right now. I mean it.”
Isack just laughs, snapping another picture for good measure. “Too late. This is being archived.”
“I will ruin your life,” Kimi says, pointing at him weakly while still attempting to shove Franco off with his other hand. “I swear to God, I will end you.”
“Please, you’ll literally die if you try to fight Isack,” Gabi says cheerfully from where he is still sitting on him, patting his shoulder like he is comforting him through it. “Then we will just put this in your funeral highlights reel.”
Kimi makes a noise that is somewhere between a groan and a whine, finally managing to push himself upright enough that Gabi slides off to the side with an exaggerated gasp of betrayal. His hair is a complete disaster, sticking up in every direction, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and he is ninety percent sure there is still a faint pillow crease on his face.
And they are all staring at him.
All of them.
Grinning.
Laughing.
“Why are you all in my room?” he demands, voice still rough from sleep, eyes wide as he looks between them. “How did you even get in here?”
Gabi spreads his arms dramatically, like the answer should be obvious. “Wow. No ‘I missed you’? No emotional reunion? We come all this way to see your stupid face and this is the welcome we get?”
“To see my—” Kimi cuts himself off, staring at him. “You literally attacked me in my sleep!”
“And?” Franco says, flopping back against the bed like it was his own. “It was a friendly assault”
“That’s not a thing!”
“It is if we say it is,” Franco shrugs.
Kimi exhales slowly, dragging both hands over his face in an attempt to wake himself up properly. “I should have expected this,” he mutters under his breath, already feeling the corners of his mouth twitch despite himself. “I don’t know why I thought you guys wouldn’t show up out of nowhere.”
“That sounds like a you problem,” Isack says, still holding his phone up, still very much recording now.
Kimi points at him again. “Put that away.”
“No.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Kimi groans, dropping his head back for a second before looking at them again, something softer slipping into his expression despite everything. “No, but actually,” he says, quieter now, more confused than anything. “I love that you’re all here now and everything, but I was weirdly expecting to see you guys sooner?”
There’s a brief pause, and then Gabi smiles softly.
“Okay, so we were totally going to meet you sooner,” he starts, bouncing slightly where he’s sitting, “we were actually going to be here the second you stepped out of the car, but someoneeee said no.”
Kimi frowns. “What?”
“We had this whole plan,” Franco cuts in, pushing himself up onto his elbows, already laughing like he knows exactly how this sounds. “I’m talking full welcome committee with banners and balloons and everything. I suggested glitter too but apparently that was ‘too much’.”
“It was too much,” Isack says flatly.
“It was not too much,” Franco argues immediately. “It was festive, and Kimi would have loved it.”
“Ya, and you would have loved it too when Charles made you scrub his driveway to clean all of it!”
Franco just shrugs, “You win some, and you lose some, cariño”
Kimi blinks between them, trying to picture the scene. He tries to keep a soft smile off his face but fails miserably. “You were going to ambush me with glitter?”
“Yes,” Gabi says, completely serious. “Obviously. It’s your grand return. We had to make it memorable.”
Kimi lets out a breath that is half a laugh, half disbelief, shaking his head. “You guys are crazy.”
“We are dedicated to this friendship,” Franco corrects.
“And then someone had to ruin all the fun,” Gabi continues, turning slightly to point at the doorway, “your lovely roommate vetoed the entire thing.”
Kimi’s head snaps up.
“Ollie?”
As if summoned, Ollie, who has been leaning against the doorframe this whole time, watching the chaos unfold, straightens slightly, already looking defensive. “I didn’t veto it,” he says. “I just said maybe we shouldn’t jump him the second he gets here. Let him settle in first like a normal person.”
“Boring,” Franco says immediately.
“I was being reasonable,” Ollie shoots back.
“You were being suspicious,” Franco corrects, narrowing his eyes slightly as he looks at him. “Actually, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure you just wanted him all to yourself.”
Ollie chokes.
Actually chokes.
“O—what—” he splutters, face going red instantly. There is no delay, he can’t even attempt to hide the full, immediate flush creeping up his neck as he pushes himself off the doorframe. “Shut up,” he says, aiming a half-hearted shove at Franco’s shoulder.
Franco grins wider, clearly sensing blood in the water. “No, no, don’t be shy, Ollie. Everyone here knows the truth,” he presses, completely ignoring the shove. “You just wanted all his attention, didn’t you? You didn’t want to share!”
“I didn’t—” Ollie cuts himself off, glaring at him now, which would be a lot more intimidating if he didn’t still look flustered. “You’re making things up.”
“I’m just connecting the dots I have,” Franco says.
“You don’t have any dots,” Ollie snaps. “You have problems.”
Franco grins, absolutely delighted. “Oh my God, look at him. I’m soo right.”
“You’re not right,” Ollie shoots back, already stepping forward and shoving him. “You’re just annoying.”
“I’m observant,” Franco corrects.
“You’re about to be unconscious,” Ollie says, and then he punches him.
“Violence,” Gabi says happily, clapping his hands. “I love where this is going.”
Before Kimi can even attempt to understand what is happening, Ollie lunges forward properly this time, and Franco immediately pushes back, both of them dissolving into a mess of shoving and laughing and completely unserious attempts at fighting that takes up half the floor space in his bedroom.
“Stop—” Kimi starts, then gives up immediately because no one is listening.
Gabi is actively encouraging them now, leaning forward with way too much enthusiasm. “Hit him! No, the other one! Aim for his stomach, that’s where it hurts most!”
Isack, traitor that he is, has switched from photos to full video, already narrating under his breath. “And here we have two idiots in their natural habitat—”
“Can you not—” Ollie starts, which no one hears.
“Oh, he’s blushing,” Isack says, zooming in with his camera.
“I AM NOT—”
Click.
“That one’s going in the group chat. I am making this a reaction sticker”
“I will throw your phone out the window.”
“You won’t,” Isack says, grinning. “You love me.”
“I don’t love you,” Ollie snaps.
“No, you love—.” Isack shrieks as Ollie drags him to the ground by the foot.
And Kimi just sits there in the middle of it.
Hair a mess, face still warm, heart doing something strange and uneven in his chest that has nothing to do with the chaos in front of him and everything to do with the fact that they are here.
All of them.
In his room.
On his floor.
Loud and annoying and exactly the same.
And something in his chest loosens before he can stop it.
Because he hadn’t been sure they would come.
Not fully.
Nothing about this feels distant. Nothing about this feels different or careful or adjusted to the fact that he has been gone more than he has been around lately. They did not hesitate. They did not wait. They showed up, barged into his room, threw themselves at him, made fun of him within five seconds of him waking up, and acted as if there had never been any gap between them at all.
And the thing is, Kimi, had not realised how much his thoughts had been weighing on him until they suddenly weren’t.
He had gotten used to the quiet distance of everything lately. The missed messages, the conversations he joined halfway through or not at all, the small, creeping feeling that maybe he was slipping away from them. It had never been loud enough to fully acknowledge, never something he could point to and say this is happening, but it had been there anyway, sitting somewhere under everything else, feeding into the general mess in his head.
It would have made sense, in a way, for things to change. For them to adjust to him not being there as much. For things to shift without him realising. He tried not to say it out loud. He didn’t even really let himself think it properly, because the second he did, it felt stupid and dramatic and unfair, and Kimi hated being those things even when he is, objectively, those things.
But it had been there.
That quiet, persistent thought sitting somewhere in the back of his mind, growing slowly every time he didn’t reply to a message, every time a conversation in the group chat moved on without him, every time he saw a photo or a joke or a plan that he wasn’t part of anymore.
(They probably don’t even notice you’re gone half the time.)
(You don’t text. You don’t call. You disappear and then expect everything to stay the same.)
(Why would it?)
He watches Franco try to wrestle Ollie into the carpet and fail spectacularly when Ollie just shoves him off, both of them laughing too hard to actually commit to the fight. Gabi still shouts unhelpful commentary while Isack tries to crawl away from them.
(But they came!)
They actually came.
For him.
(Not because they had nothing better to do.)
(Not because someone forced them to.)
(They came because they wanted to.)
Kimi lets out a quiet breath, something warm settling low in his chest.
He huffs a laugh, shaking his head as Franco tries to stand up but fails spectacularly, grabbing onto Gabi’s sleeve to try and find some semblance of balance, but only ends up dragging him down with him.
“You’re all idiots,” Kimi says, but there is no bite to it, nothing sharp, just something soft and fond threaded through the words before he can stop it.
Franco looks up at him from where he’s half sprawled across the floor, grinning like he’s just been handed a victory. “You love us.”
Kimi rolls his eyes automatically. “Debatable.”
But he’s still smiling.
And for once, the voice in his head doesn’t argue with him about it.
The door swings open before the chaos can escalate any further.
“What on earth is happening in here?”
Charles stands there, one hand braced against the frame, taking in the scene with a look that is halfway between disbelief and something dangerously close to amusement. His hair is still a little messy, sleeves pushed up, like he has been moving around the kitchen for a while now, and there is something about the way he looks at them, all fond exasperation and disbelief.
His voice is not loud, but it cuts through the noise instantly. All of them freeze in varying states of undignified sprawl across the floor. Franco is halfway pinned under Ollie’s knee, and Gabi is sitting cross-legged beside them.
Charles stands in the doorway with his arms crossed, eyebrow raised, trying very hard not to smile and failing spectacularly.
“Ollie,” he says first, with the kind of exasperated fondness that carries absolutely no real threat behind it, “why are you wrestling people on the floor first thing in the morning? I did not raise a barbarian. Get up.”
Ollie immediately pushes himself upright, running a hand through his hair as if that will somehow erase the fact that he was just tackling Franco two seconds ago. “He started it, Dad!”
“I did not! I promise, Mr Leclerc,” Franco protests, still lying flat on his back.
“You definitely did, you liar!” Ollie shoots back.
Charles exhales slowly, shaking his head. “I am not getting involved in whatever this is. All of you up. Now. You are going to break something, and I am not dealing with that first thing in the morning.”
There is laughter threaded through his words, even as he tries to sound stern, and something about it takes Kimi somewhere he doesn't want to go
For one second, Kimi sees it.
A glimpse.
A flicker of the man Charles used to be.
Charles standing in the doorway, pretending to be annoyed, failing to hide the smile, scolding them all while clearly amused. It is such an ordinary scene. Such a simple thing. But it pulls something loose in Kimi’s chest before he can stop it, a sudden flash of memory layered over the present.
Charles ruffling his hair when he was younger. Charles telling them to stop running inside while trying to be stern, but failing anyway. Charles calling them idiots and scolding them with that same tone that meant he was not actually mad at all.
There had been a time when Charles had been one of his favourite adults. Someone he instinctively gravitated toward.
But just as fast as it came, the feeling fades.
And something ugly crawls up his throat.
No.
Kimi swallows hard, jaw tightening.
He cannot let himself fall into that. He cannot let a single familiar tone trick him into forgetting everything else. That version of Charles does not exist anymore. As far as Kimi is concerned, that man is gone. Dead and buried right beside the grave of his parents’ marriage.
This is just a snake wearing his face. A skinwalker pretending to be someone Kimi used to love.
He forces himself to look away.
Charles claps his hands together. “Breakfast is ready. Come downstairs before it gets cold.”
Franco immediately sits up, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt, expression shifting into something suspiciously polite. “You made breakfast?” he says, voice suddenly sweet. “You really did not have to do that.”
There is something almost flirtatious in the tone, exaggerated innocence layered over the words.
Ollie elbows him in the stomach without hesitation.
“Stop it,” he mutters.
Franco wheezes. “Ow. I was being nice.”
“You were trying to flirt with my dad. AGAIN!” Ollie shoots back.
Charles laughs outright this time, shaking his head. “I am leaving before this gets any worse. I want to see all of you downstairs and sitting at the table in 5 minutes.”
He disappears down the hallway, still smiling.
The second he is gone, the room explodes back into motion.
“Food,” Gabi announces dramatically, already halfway to the door.
Franco scrambles up after him. “If there is toast, I am taking all of it.”
“You are not,” Isack says, grabbing his sleeve.
“Yes, I am.”
“You can’t have all of it, I want some too!”
They all rush out in a chaotic cluster, bumping into each other in the doorway.
Kimi swings his legs off the bed, slower, still shaking off the last of sleep. “I am going to brush my teeth,” he calls after them. “I will be down in a minute.”
“Do not take forever,” Franco shouts back.
“Or we eat your portion,” Gabi adds.
They disappear down the stairs.
Kimi stands up, stretching, running a hand through his already hopeless hair. He has taken exactly two steps toward the bathroom when a hand catches lightly around his wrist.
He turns.
Ollie.
He has hung back. The room is suddenly quieter, the noise from downstairs muffled and distant.
“Hey,” Ollie says, softer now, glancing briefly toward the door before looking back at him. “Can I ask you something?”
Kimi nods automatically. “Yeah?”
Ollie shifts his weight, suddenly uncertain in a way that does not fit him. “Did I… overreach?” he asks. “By telling them to come later. I just thought you might want to settle in first. With everything. The house and all the changes. I did not want it to be too much or for you to get overwhelmed—”
Kimi blinks, surprised. “No,” he says quickly. “No, it is fine. Really. I actually appreciate it. I might have actually combusted if they threw glitter at me the second I got here”
Ollie watches his face closely, as if checking for any sign he is lying. Only when Kimi shrugs does he relax a little.
Kimi smiles, nudging him lightly. “Besides,” he adds, tone teasing, “as Franco said, you could have just told me if you wanted to keep me to yourself for a few days. I wouldn’t have minded”
He expects Ollie to roll his eyes. Or shove him. Or throw something sarcastic back.
Instead, Ollie goes very still.
“What if I did?” he says quietly.
Kimi’s brain stalls.
The room suddenly feels too small. Like the walls are closing in on him. Kimi becomes painfully aware of how close they are standing. Of Ollie’s eyes locked on his. Of the way his voice has dropped.
Ollie does not look away. His gaze is steady, intense in a way that makes the air feel charged. “I really liked it,” he continues, voice softer. “Just you and me. Without anyone else disturbing us.”
Then Ollie lifts his hand.
It is slow, almost hesitant, and Kimi does not move. Fingers brush lightly against his forehead, sliding a curl away from his eyes. The touch is gentle, lingering just a second too long to be accidental.
Heat floods straight to Kimi’s face.
“Come downstairs quickly or else they will actually eat everything,” Ollie says, smiling softly.
Then he turns and walks away.
Kimi does not move.
He does not breathe.
He stands there in the hallway, staring at the empty space Ollie just left behind, heart slamming against his ribs so hard it almost hurts.
What the fuck.
What the fuck.
What the actual fuck just happened?
His brain starts talking all at once, thoughts crashing into each other so loudly it feels physical. He grabs the sides of his head, eyes wide, silently spiralling.
What was that? What the fuck was that? Why did he say that? Why did he look at me like that? Why did he touch my hair? OH MY GOD HE TOUCHED MY HAIR. That was not casual. That was not normal. People do not brush your hair out of your face unless there is something there. That is a very specific gesture. That is a romantic gesture. That is absolutely a romantic gesture. People in movies do that. People in books do that. That is a thing. That is a very specific and very real thing.
Kimi feels his face burn.
He presses his hands against his cheeks, which only makes him more aware of how hot they are. “Oh my God,” he whispers under his breath.
(He liked having me all to himself)
The thought makes his stomach flip violently.
He said he liked it. Just us. Not the others. Just us. He said that while looking directly at me. He did not laugh like it was a joke. He did not take it back. He just said it, and then he brushed my hair out of my face.
He brushed my hair.
Who does that?
Who actually does that?
Why did he look at me like that? Why was he so serious? Why did his voice go soft? He has never said anything like that before. Has he? Did I miss something? Have there been signs? Oh, my God, have there been signs, and I just did not notice because I am an idiot???
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
Does he?
Does he—
No.
(He liked having me all to himself)
What the fuck.
His crush touched his hair.
And then promptly walked away as if he did not just detonate an emotional bomb inside Kimi first thing in the morning.
Kimi presses his forehead briefly against the wall.
His heart is still racing. His thoughts are still everywhere. Every second that passes only makes him more aware of the fact that he has to go downstairs and face him again.
Face him.
Act normal.
After that.
He straightens slowly, taking a deep breath that does absolutely nothing to calm him down.
What the fuck.
He pushes himself off the wall and heads toward the bathroom, still internally screaming. He looks at his reflection in the mirror and feels like he’s about to cry.
Kimi takes a deep breath, then lightly slaps his own cheek. “Okay. Stop,” he mutters, gripping the edge of the sink. “You are spiralling. This is embarrassing. Pull yourself together. You are absolutely losing it!”
He exhales slowly, forcing his heartbeat to calm. His brain is clearly jumping to conclusions, and he knows exactly why. This is what happens when your only understanding of romance comes from two very questionable sources. Firstly, his parents, who had ended in nuclear fallout, and secondly, a frankly unhealthy amount of romance books and shows that have absolutely warped his expectations and rotted his brain.
But wait, that’s actually not a bad baseline of comparison. Because in those stories, there are always signs. And fiction is heavily inspired by reality, right??
So what are the signs you ought to be looking for, Kimi?
Well, there is lingering eye contact that stretches too long. There is jealousy over stupid things, as well as tension and almost confessions. Also, accidental touches that turn into something meaningful. Slow burn realisations are a classic, alongside the special moment when one of them stares at the other, and everything clicks into place.
Kimi stares at his reflection in the mirror and frowns.
But none of that has happened to him.
Ollie has not been staring at him across rooms. There has been no weird possessiveness. No charged silences. No buildup. No montage of meaningful glances. No dramatic shift. No anything.
This is not a carefully constructed friends-to-lovers arc. This is not a slow burn. This is not a trope. In fact, this is nothing at all.
This was just one incident. That is it.
Kimi lets out a breath, some of the panic draining away as logic starts to reassert itself. Ollie has always been impulsive. He says things without thinking. He does small, gentle gestures all the time. He is touching Kimi all the time. That is just who he is.
He straightens, nodding firmly at himself.
“Yeah,” he says under his breath, more certain now. “This is not a romantic storyline in a book. You are not the main character, Kimi. There has been zero buildup and zero foreshadowing. If this were a book, the readers would be confused because this just came out of nowhere!”
He grabs his toothbrush, still muttering.
“Exactly. This is just Ollie being… Ollie. And I am being dramatic for no reason. Papa was right, I really do need to stop watching trash TV.”
──── ୨୧ ────
By the time Kimi gets downstairs, the kitchen is already a loud mess.
Everyone is eating. Not politely either. Plates half-filled, someone reaching across the table, someone else talking with their mouth full. Gabi is mid-story, gesturing wildly with a fork. Franco is stealing pieces of toast off Isack’s plate without even pretending to be subtle. Ollie is sitting across the table next to Gabi, elbow propped on the surface.
Kimi pauses in the doorway.
He’s across the table.
Good.
His relief is immediate. He does not think he could sit next to Ollie right now without painfully replaying everything that happened upstairs. He still feels warm remembering it and needs to bite the inside of his mouth to not show it on his face. He needs distance. Distance is good. Distance means he might actually function.
“Finally,” Franco says, pointing at him with a piece of toast. “Sleeping beauty joins us.”
“You are all so loud,” Kimi mutters.
He pulls out the chair beside Franco and sits down, carefully keeping his eyes anywhere but directly across the table.
Gabi slides a plate toward him. “We saved you food. Mostly.”
“Mostly?” Kimi repeats.
Franco shrugs. “You were late. That is on you.”
“You stole half of it,” Isack mutters.
“I am a growing boy, Isack. I need my toast!” Franco corrects.
Kimi huffs quietly, grabbing a piece of toast. The conversation keeps flowing around him. They jump from topic to topic with no real structure. Gabi starts talking about something ridiculous he saw online. Isack argues about whether it was real. Franco interrupts to complain about the juice not being cold enough, and Ollie adds comments here and there, laughing at whatever spouts out of Gabi’s mouth.
Kimi keeps his attention on his plate.
Every now and then, he accidentally looks up and catches Ollie in his peripheral vision, which immediately makes his brain short-circuit again, so he goes back to aggressively buttering his toast.
Normal. Act normal.
A while later, footsteps come down the stairs.
Max walks in, already dressed for work, sleeves rolled up. He slows when he sees the full table, clearly not expecting this level of noise so early.
“Well,” he says, amused. “The house is alive today.”
“Max!” Gabi waves dramatically.
Kimi brightens. “Come sit with us, Dad!”
Max checks his watch and grimaces. “I wish I could, Kimi, but I’m running late.”
He walks over anyway, ruffling Kimi’s hair briefly before pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. “Eat properly and don’t forget your vitamins,” he murmurs, already reaching for a slice of toast.
“You’re ditching us,” Gabi complains.
“I’m going to work,” Max replies, grabbing the toast. “Some of us are responsible adults here.”
“Ewww, responsible AND adult?!” Franco says, making a face of mock disgust.
Max laughs, already heading for the door. “Try not to destroy my house, please.”
“No promises,” Isack calls.
Max just shakes his head and leaves.
They fall back into conversation again. Someone starts telling a story that goes nowhere. Someone else interrupts. It is loud, overlapping and chaotic.
Then Franco suddenly leans back, glancing toward the hallway. His voice drops slightly.
“Hey,” he says.
Kimi looks up.
Franco subtly scans the room, then asks, quieter, “Where’s Charles?”
Ollie shrugs. “Outside in the garden. He said he had some work to finish.”
Franco’s expression slowly shifts. A grin spreads across his face, slow and mischievous. He rubs his hands together, leaning forward.
“Oh,” he murmurs. “Perfect.”
Gabi narrows his eyes. “Why are you smiling like that?”
Franco lowers his voice even more. “Because now,” he says, glancing around once more, “we can actually plan.”
Franco glances around one more time, then reaches into his pocket with an exaggeratedly dramatic flourish.
“Gentlemen,” he says under his breath, “I come prepared.”
He fans out a small stack of cards and starts handing them around the table one by one.
Kimi takes his automatically, frowning slightly, then looks down.
Oh.
It’s the fake IDs.
They are… good. Actually, really good. The plastic looks legitimate, the font is perfect, and even the tiny holographic details catch the light correctly. For a second, he just stares at it, impressed despite himself.
“This is insane,” Gabi breathes, already holding his up to the light. “Franco, this is so cool. This looks real.”
“It is real enough,” Franco says smugly.
Kimi tilts his head slightly, scanning the details.
Then he reads his name and pauses.
“…Franz Hermann Jr?” he says slowly, looking up. “What kind of name is that?!”
Across the table, Ollie snorts. “ I got Gerald Stevens. What even are these names, Franco?”
Gabi leans over, peeking at Ollie’s card, then bursts into hysterical laughter. “Gerald! No, that’s awful. Wait, listen to mine.” He holds it up proudly. “Gabe Hulkenberg.”
That only makes them all laugh harder.
Kimi huffs despite himself. “I can’t believe you’re feeding into Gabi’s delusions—”
“Excuse me?” Isack cuts in loudly, staring at his card in disbelief. “Why am I, Isaac Lawson of all things? Why?!”
That sets everyone off on another tangent.
Franco grins. “It suits you.”
“It does not suit me,” Isack snaps.
“Yes, it does,” Gabi says, still laughing. “He even kept your first name. Franco did not even try with you!”
“I did try,” Franco protests. “You all should stop complaining. Do you know how much effort this took? I literally had to run a whole syndicate under Flavio Briatore’s nose to afford these. Not to mention that I’m giving these out for free”
Kimi raises an eyebrow. “You what? I thought we all agreed to pay you back—”
Franco waves a hand. “Chill. Consider this a birthday gift for the next few years. I’ve already talked with everyone about this”
Isack is still glaring at his card. “Still, why did you have to pick Lawson out of all names?”
Franco shrugs casually. “Because you and Liam already fight like a married couple. Might as well make it official.”
Isack goes red instantly. “We do not—”
“You absolutely do,” Gabi cuts in.
“I am not arguing about this,” Isack says, fuming.
“You are already arguing,” Franco points out.
Kimi nudges Isack lightly. “Calm down. It’s just a name.”
“It’s Lawson,” Isack mutters.
Gabi grins. “You’re just mad Liam’s been hanging out with that Lindblad kid, and you don’t get all his attention anymore.”
Isack’s head snaps toward him. “I am not mad about that. I just think he should stop focusing on random people and actually focus on our project—”
“Sure,” Gabi says, dragging the word out. “Not jealous at all.”
“I am not jealous,” Isack insists.
“You sound very jealous,” Franco mutters.
Isack opens his mouth again, clearly ready to argue, but Ollie cuts in before it escalates.
“Can we not do this right now?” he says, leaning forward slightly. “Focus, people.”
That works.
Everyone settles down just enough to pretend they are being serious.
Franco taps the table lightly. “Okay. So the rave is this weekend. It starts at eleven, but we are obviously not showing up at eleven.”
“Why not?” Kimi asks.
Franco looks at him, offended. “Because that is incredibly uncool. Nobody arrives on time. You always show up a little later, so you look fashionably late”
“That makes zero sense,” Isack mutters.
“It makes perfect sense. You do not understand because you are still children,” Franco insists. “Anyway. We meet at my house first. My parents are out of town, so we can get ready there.”
Gabi perks up immediately. “Why do we have to get ready at your house?”
“Because I will provide you all with rave-appropriate clothes,” Franco says confidently.
Kimi blinks. “Why can’t we just wear what we already have?”
Franco stares at him. Then he scoffs. “Because I am ninety percent sure you do not own rave attire. And I refuse to walk in with people who are dressed weird and not fit for the occasion.”
“I wouldn’t dress weird,” Kimi protests.
“Forgive me for not trusting someone who wears the same three hoodies,” Franco replies.
“It’s efficient!”
Gabi snorts.
Franco continues, “After that, we go. Everyone, make sure to memorise the information on your IDs. Names, birthdays, everything. If someone asks, you have to be able to answer without thinking.”
Isack sighs, looking down at his card again. “I hate this name.”
“You will learn to love it,” Franco says.
Gabi is practically vibrating in his seat. “Wait, so does this mean… we can actually… drink?”
Franco grins. “That is the idea.”
Gabi’s eyes widen. “This is insane.”
Kimi leans back slightly, expression more cautious. “If you try anything, just make sure to stay with the group,” he says. “Do not wander off. Especially if you are drinking. We don’t want any one of us to get hurt.”
Gabi groans. “You are such a party pooper.”
“I am being realistic,” Kimi replies.
“He is right,” Ollie says quietly.
Gabi looks between them, dramatically betrayed. “Wow. Both of you.”
“Just saying,” Kimi shrugs. “We should stick together. Better safe than sorry, Gabi.”
Gabi sighs but nods. “Fine. But I am still excited.”
They iron out the last few details. Who is bringing what. What time they will meet. How Kimi and Ollie will sneak out after curfew. The conversation overlaps again, energy building the more they talk about it.
Gabi is already imagining the music. Franco is talking about lights and crowds. Isack is still complaining about his fake name, but smiling anyway. The excitement grows until everyone is talking over each other again.
“This is going to be amazing,” Gabi says.
Kimi leans back in his chair, letting the noise wash over him. It feels… nice to have the band back together. He glances up without really thinking.
Ollie’s already looking at him.
It only lasts a second. Maybe less.
Kimi’s stomach does something weird anyway.
He drops his gaze immediately, fiddling with the corner of his ID like it suddenly requires his full attention. His ears feel warm. He pretends he’s reading the text again, even though he has already halfway memorised it.
Across from him, Franco is arguing with Gabi about shoes. No one seems to notice.
Kimi clears his throat softly and reaches for his drink, staring at the table instead.
He doesn’t see Ollie look away, either, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to shake something off.