Chapter Text
And then everything was back to normal.
As if nothing ever happened, Jeremy was back to his ususal routine as soon as he arrived at the shop on Monday.
He had texted Jean Sunday afternoon, asking if he was alright, but he didn’t get an answer. He told himself that it wasn’t a big deal, that Jean didn’t owe him anything, but a little voice inside of his head protested that the guy could at least text back after Jeremy stayed up the entire night with him. Still, the week went on without a word from Jean and by Thursday, Jeremy had given up.
Thursdays were his free days and originally, like he had planned for weeks, he was supposed to look for a job, a university, ‘something to do with his life’, as his father liked to say. But, like it had happened for weeks, he felt terrible as soon as he opened his browser to start research. Jeremy didn’t actually want anything to change.
Sure, it would be nice to have enough money to move out, but that would simultaneously mean he would have to leave the shop behind. And he simply didn’t think he could do that.
He loved working there, he had always been there and he felt as if leaving it behind would mean leaving a part of his life behind. The good part, the bright part, the one that, when gone, would make room for the part that consisted of equal parts crippling anxiety and severe social phobia. Those things only existed on the very spheres of his mind in the shop on most days so why would he want to change anything?
He didn’t want that. So, like he had for weeks now, he sat down in the living room instead, his head buried in a book, mind as far away from everything as possible.
Until Millie had burst in ,coming home from her shift, snatching the book away.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” ,she said, pointing at him accusingly.
“Tell you what exactly?”
“I just had a literal heart attack and then had to learn from Louis- I can’t believe you Jer!”
“Millie what are you talking about?!”
“You meet Jean Moreau and don’t tell me?!”
“I...I’m sorry?”
Where did this come from suddenly? It’s been over a week since Jean had come into the shop, why did Louis only tell Millie about it now?
“You better be sorry. I will suffer an early death because neither you, nor Louis thought to warn me about your little acquaintance and I just had about 30 years taken from my life expectancy because of this.”
So Louis hadn’t told Millie about Jean. Then how did she know?
Martha joined them in the living room.
“I’m sure Millie already told you, she seemed very worked up about it, but someone was there for you at the shop today” ,she said, more to the bag she had her head buried in on the search for something than to Jeremy.
“ Someone?! That was Jean Moreau, mom!”
“Jean came to the shop?” Jeremy asked, perplexed. He had assumed that Jean didn’t want to see him again, after Saturday night. Why would he show up at the shop, but not answer his texts?
“Yes he did. And he asked me to tell you something. If I hadn’t been so focused on, I don’t know, getting my heart back to work, I’m sure I would remember the details but he said something about his phone and not being able to text back. Text back, Jeremy. You’re texting Jean Moreau.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing, I’m texting” , Jeremy mumbled. So there was a different reason why he hadn’t heard from Jean yet. That meant that he maybe, possibly, wasn’t a total failure and that maybe, possibly, he had helped Jean that night and not just made everything worse. “Did he say anything else?”
“I wouldn’t know, I died.”
“Millie.”
“He said he’ll be there for the game.”
Jeremy distinctly remembered that Jean had very decidedly told him that he wouldn’t attend his team’s game. Why had he changed his mind? Probably because his team made him come. Definitely not because he knew Jeremy was coming. Where did that thought even come from?
“Hey, now that you have top secret connections that you’re not even telling your favourite sibling about, do you think there’s a chance you can get us backstage on Saturday?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not called backstage and I don’t have any connections, I met the dude twice.”
“Twice?”
He shouldn’t have said that.
“When was the second time?”
“None of your business.”
“Jer!”
“Millie, it’s enough already” Martha interrupted their discussion which was slowly increasing in volume. “Go and find out when your father will be home from work, will you?”
“But Mom-”
“Now, Millie.”
His little sister pointed a warning finger at Jeremy, before stomping upstairs “This is not over yet.”
Jeremy wanted to be glad when his mother went to change the subject after Millie left, but-
“Any progress on project future?”
He had talked to her about it. He’d tried to explain it and she’d tried to understand. But calling his future a project didn’t help as much as she thought it did, in fact, it only reminded him more and more about the fact that it wasn’t a project, that it was real and inevitable. Softly, he shook his head. Martha nodded. That was how it usually went. As much as Jeremy loved his mother more for not pushing him he hated himself more with every time he wasn’t able to push himself.
-
Saturday arrived, way too early in Jeremy’s opinion. When they arrived in front of the stadium situated on USC campus, he had been a walking ball of nerves for hours. He couldn’t even pinpoint what exactly got him so worked up.
That was, he could , but it just did not make sense.
Jean. Jean was the reason. But why would he feel so nervous at the prospect of meeting this guy again, when he had only talked to him twice and still knew next to nothing about him?
In the shower this morning Jeremy had tried to piece together the facts. Jean was, without a doubt, attractive. He had a nice voice, too. But just that and a whole lot of emotional baggage usually did not qualify to make Jeremy crush on someone. And that was the conclusion he came to in the shower.
Jeremy knew what crushes felt like, had had hundreds throughout middle- and high school, and honestly speaking, thinking about seeing Jean made him feel exactly like thinking about seeing Rebecca, his lab partner in 9th grade, felt back then.
Another conclusion he came to in the shower was that he couldn’t do anything about this crush. He’d just have to wait and see it through until it would be over eventually, as he did with each and every inconvenience in his life.
He probably wouldn’t even meet Jean today, he thought to himself as Louis manoeuvred his shitty car around the stadiums parking lot, already filled with hundreds of cars and people. With this mass of fans it would be a miracle for Jean to find him - which he certainly wasn’t planning to try anyways, because he certainly wasn’t here for Jean.
“Earth to Jeremy.” Louis waved a hand in front of Jeremy’s eyes, motioning for him to get out of the car when he had his attention.
Millie and her best friend, Ava, were already standing outside, excitedly discussing something Jeremy couldn’t quite follow, as they had the entire drive.
The walk to their seats was excruciating. Jeremy hated crowds on a good day, but with his nerves as wrecked as they were, he felt as if he himself had just played a full game of Exy when he finally dropped down on the hard plastic seat.
“Who’s USC playing anyways?”, he directed at the rest of their little group, not recognizing the jerseys that started to fill the ranks around him that weren’t donning the hosting red and gold combination.
“Have you been listening to literally anything we’ve been saying on the ride?”, Millie asked, already knowing the answer. With an exaggerated sigh she went back to explain.
“It’s a scrimmage against Baltimore. Nothing serious, championship is over, as you know.”
Jeremy nodded. He remembered the night of the finale last week all too well…
“Nothing serious also because it’s Baltimore”, Louis threw in now. “Laila’s team could win them any day.”
Millie nodded in agreement, while Ava chuckled. “Not that I would want that but it would be hilarious to see your face if USC loses this game.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, that’s just unrealistic.”
-
USC didn’t lose. From what Jeremy could tell, they played an excellent game, and so did Baltimore. His expertise didn’t allow any further judgement than that, he was just glad that nobody attempted murder when the final signal rang.
Looking around the ranks you would think the fans were celebrating their teams championship win, they were so happy. It reminded Jeremy why he let Louis convince him to tag along to games every once in awhile - the atmosphere after a win was so euphoric and bright that it was just not possible to be sad, whether you cared for the sport or not.
Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder if Jean was cheering too, as his eyes wandered down to the court again where the players started to file off the court and into the changing rooms. He doubted it.
On one hand Jean had only been part of this team for mere weeks. It sure was weird to change loyalties like that. On the other hand, Jean didn’t seem the type to get overly cheerful about a win… and in general.
Calm down, buzzkill. Jeremy scolded himself, while fishing his phone out of his pocket to distract himself, ignoring his sister and Louis animatedly discussing an apparently extraordinary gameplay USC’s backliner Sara Alvarez had run in the second half.
His phone was anything but a distraction from Jean.
you’re here right?
can you come to the corridor that leads to the dressing rooms after the game is over?
need to talk to you
come alone
Apparently, Jeans phone had been fixed. And apparently, he needed to talk to Jeremy. He was reminded of his statement to Millie two weeks ago, when he compared his first meeting with Jean to a cheap movie cliché. As he excused himself, he internally cringed at this thought. That was not where he would let this go. Just see it through and wait for it to be over.
Apparently Jean had other plans.
It took Jeremy a small eternity to reach the corridor Jean was expecting him in, since he had to fight his way through masses of people going into the opposite direction for the most part of it. When he finally broke free of the crowd and was able to catch his breath and look around, he was convinced the journey had taken him eons and Jean surely thought he had left him hanging. Therefore he was mildly surprised to find the other waiting exactly where he said he would, if hard to see.
Jean was wearing a huge dark blue hoodie, the hood pulled over his forehead, probably to avoid unwelcome encounters. Not only the hoodie gave off that impression but also the fact that he stood behind a huge indoors plant. If Jeremy hadn't been so unreasonably nervous, he would've chuckled at the scene.
Alas, he approached Jean slowly, taking a calming breath before softly calling his name shortly before he reached him.
Jean looked up and the way he raised his eyebrows upon seeing Jeremy made it seem like he was relieved that he came.
It calmed Jeremy down a great deal to realize that Jean seemed about as anxious about this meeting as he himself did. Either that or it was all just wishful thinking, but Jeremy would accept it, if it meant calming himself down just a little.
Jean didn't waste time greeting him but instead motioned for him to follow him deeper into the corridor. They ended up in what seemed like a trainer's office, currently unoccupied. Finally, Jean turned around and said: "You're here."
Again, it reminded Jeremy of their previous meetings. Jean had him called here, after all. Why had he done that? Just as Jeremy wanted to ask precisely that, Jean opened his mouth again and murmured, while dropping his eyes to the floor: "I don't know why i told you to come."
Jeremy was pretty sure that this was not the entire truth, but he was not going to push Jean for the reason. Instead he did, what he did best around the other man. Rambling.
"The game was good. At least I think it was...Your team won, so they did well right? I know nothing about the technique of this sport so I can't really judge. But my sister was saying that that one save by Alvarez in the second half was spectacular, and my sister usually knows her Exy techniques. She's the same sister that knows french. It may seem like she's just smarter than me in everything she does, which she probably is, but also she's in middle school, so I can't really openly admit that, you know? That would be embarrassing." He chuckled awkwardly and stopped to breathe. He was embarrassing. Honestly, if Jean didn't want to tell him what he had to say, he couldn't blame him for never telling now.
To his suprise, his little rant had done something for Jean's memory. After a few silent seconds, Jean looked up from his shoes again and straight into Jeremy's eyes. "Why are you here?" ,he asked.
His voice was not louder than it had been before, but Jeremy was so nervous and so hyper-aware of him, that Jean could have yelled and it would have had the same effect. His heart started racing and he didn't know why, wanted it to stop. What was the dumb thing so worked up about? He did not even know the answer to Jean's question himself, it had absolutely no reason to act like Jeremy was about to bolt. As it was, his pulse made him want to bolt, to run away from this ridiculous scene where he was standing in a deserted office with a man he barely knew but inexplicably cared for, scolding his own heart. Why was he here?
Jean had asked him the exact same thing when he showed up at Coach Rheman's house. Back then, he had been drunk and very out of it and Jeremy began wondering, if Jean remembered their conversations at all, if he too was having these mind-numbing déjà-vus, or if he simply just wanted the answer to his questions that he didn't get the last time around.
Back then, Jeremy had answered truthfully. Jean had seemed like he needed help, and that's what Jeremy wanted to give him. Now, with Jean's eyes lacking the haze of booze and staring at him, stark and striking like a morning in winter, he felt like this explaination wouldn't be enough to protect him against the cold. The warmest memory he and Jean shared in their short history was Martha's. The safest way to go about this was to start at the beginning. Maybe, just maybe, he would find the answer Jean asked for along the way.
"My mom's shop is a second home to me. Hell, when I was younger there was a phase where I was convinced it was my first home. I know you've only been there once, but maybe, if you imagine to have basically grown up there, you can kind of understand what I mean... The smell of it, the patrons, the day to day business, they're all just inherently comforting and safe and..happy. It's a happy place. That's ridiculous, it's a coffee shop. Honestly I don't know how to explain this. It's just- It's a bright place and good things happen there ,you know? It's where cupcakes are made! And- And then you came in and it was just so off-...Oh god that sounded like an insult, I'm so sorry. I don't mean- You just- Um..."
Jeremy took a deep breath. He hadn't meant to just start rambling like this. It had seemed like the only reasonable thing to do to explain himself before, but now he just felt ridiculous. Jean probably thought he was being ridiculous. He pobably was regretting ever calling him here, ever calling him in the middle of the night, ever walking into the coffee shop and order from Jeremy.
But when Jeremy looked up, Jean was still looking at him. his eyes were just as clear as they had been before, just as set on finding out what he wanted to know. If anything, they were asking more now, were willing to take in whatever Jeremy had to say. It encouraged him, made him take a steadying breath that he would have been embarrassed about in any other conversation. But now he found himself holding Jean's gaze and continuing.
"You looked like you were running from something. Not physically, just in general. Like you were trying to leave something far, far behind but couldn't quite manage to, like you were nearly giving up to. Like you were just short of falling prey to it. To me, the shop is always the safe haven where I can take cover from things that are haunting me. It's where Im safest, and it's what I'm trying to make it for everyone who comes in, even when they're just passing by to get a cup of green tea to go. But there was... something different about you."
A quiet noise from Jean interrupted him this time.
"Are you...are you laughing at me?"
Jean softly chuckled again, the sound rough against his lips. "There was something different about me. That sounds like it's out of a cheesy chick-flick."
As he turned his head downwards and felt his cheeks heating up at the jab, he thought that he really had heard that line hundreds of times during movie nights with Millie.
"Well, it sure sounds dramatic, but it's true. It's why I gave you my number."
"Because you felt like you were in a cheesy chick-flick?"
Jeremy coughed. His cheeks grew warmer. When he looked up again, the crisp winter-grey in Jeans eyes seemed to be melting too.
"Actually I gave it to you because I have a very poorly placed hero-complex and felt the urge to help you, but if it helps you with understanding, sure, let's go with chick-flick."
It was a quick and poor try to direct the weird tone the conversation had taken back to the explaination Jean had asked for, but the other seemed satisfied with it all the same. He nodded at Jeremy to go on. The right corner of his mouth stayed endearingly upturned.
"Uhm. I'm not really good with people, face-to-face, actually, so I didn't really know how to help you. Also I couldn't, of course, because you had my number and I didn't have yours. Well I guess what I'm saying is that I was surprised when you called me, but also that all this is also the reason why I came over then-"
"You said that then to. That you were there because I needed help. That you wanted to help."
"Well...yeah." So he did remember their conversations. Jeremy didn't know what to make out of this, so it was his turn to wait for Jean to go on. His own rambling was going in circles after all, and he wasn't sure there was more to come out of it.
"I...I know what you mean about yur mother's shop. It felt really cozy, made you want to stay. The smell...it smelled like honey and flowers."
"Lilacs." ,Jeremy nearly whispered. He hadn't want to say it, i was oddly specific and irrelevant. Jean didn't seem to mind.
"Yeah. It's also what it was like to talk to you."
It was quiet for a few seconds, like Jean was waiting for Jeremy's reaction, while Jeremy was still trying to properly process how something could feel like lilacs smell. But he guessed that he knew what it felt like. Jean's eyes were still melting, slowly, but surely.
"That also sounds like something out of a chick-flick."
"It's what we're going with, no?" Another tiny smile. "Anyways, I guess what I'm trying to say is that...I was>/em> running from something. And I knew that you knew that, even though I still don't know how you knew that. And I you gave me the feeling that you wanted...that you could help me. And when you gave me the chance to try, I took it. I wasn't sure about it. I still wasn't sure about it when I texted you in the middle of the night. But I was desperate the first time and drunk the second. And now I'm slightly more sure, which is why I called you here."
"And that's why I'm here." ,Jeremy added. "You asked why I came. That's why. Taking chances, helping people, lilacs, honey." He chuckled nervously. "It's what I do."
"I barely know you." Jean said. And if it weren't for the icy clouds in his eyes turning into the light and hopefull mist of spring, Jeremy would've been set off by it. But Jeans eyes were melting, and so was Jeremy's self-consciousness. He sent Jean a sheepish smile and extended his hand.
"Hi, I'm Jeremy Knox. I'm not good with people but I still would like to help you."
Jean's gaze wandered to Jermy's hand, and when he took it, his skin was as warm as Jeremy felt inside.
"Jean Moreau. I'm not good at letting people help me but i still would like to let you try."