Chapter Text
“Okay, guys, who do we have?” asked Cyrus, leaning against the backseat of the car. It was absolutely stuffed with the GHC, as they informally called themselves. Andi reached across Jonah, who was shoved into the center of the backseat, to ruffle Cyrus’ hair kindly, eliciting a sweet smile from Cyrus that was barely caught on camera.
“We have TJ Kippen, who was nominated by his mom,” said Buffy behind the wheel, confidently steering her way across the sparse Utah traffic.
-
The footage then cut to TJ’s mom herself, fidgeting a bit beneath the false, bright lights that shone down on her.
“TJ is… a mess. He’s always late, he’s been wearing the same basketball shorts for year, and his apartment is awful. He’s got potential, but he’s so lost right now. Ever since his boyfriend eft him, he’s just lost his will to take care of himself.”
-
“He’s gay?” Andi asked, excited.
“You bet! He’s single right now, but the event we’re planning to get him to is a singles night, which will certainly be interesting,” said Buffy, fighting the wave of apprehension that flowed through her at the concept of working with what sounded like a certifiable dudebro. Considering her consistent clashing with that personality type, she was more than a little bit skittish.
“So how much should I prepare myself for this guy’s apartment? Are we talking about structural damage here or does he just need a vacuum?” Marty asked, his goal of interior design at the front of his mind.
“Included in his file is some pictures, and I’ll be honest… it’s going to be brutal for you. I’m sitting pretty today, TJ at least knows to shave his beard and brush his hair, so my job is halfway done. Give me five minutes and some facial cleanser, and then I can zip out.”
Marty furrowed his brow at her for a second, nestling a bit in the passenger seat and worrying a bit about why she would be so focused on quote unquote “zipping out”. Marty always had the habit of worrying about Buffy and Buffy alone, to the point of some comedic disregard for the others.
(There may or may not have been some tape that was cut of Jonah full on face-planting on a track where they were inspiring a Straight Guy to better his life, and Marty in the background only responded with a cold look into the camera and a shrug. In comparison, there was a bunch of other footage that was just made of Marty going full mother hen on Buffy’s occasional skinned knee. The editors had even put together an unofficial collection of clips that was just Marty worrying about Buffy’s wellbeing.)
“Architecture, schmarchitecture. Is this how he dresses all of the time?” Cyrus asked, squinting his eyes at the picture.
“If his mom is to be believed, yes,” Buffy said, causing Cyrus to groan as theatrically as possible. Jonah himself seemed a bit lost in thought.
“Penny for your thoughts, Jonah?” Andi asked, flicking him on his ear.
Andi herself was already formulating healthy, protein filled snacks that would be perfect for TJ’s workout schedule, but she was beyond curious about what was already brewing in Jonah’s head.
“Ex-Boyfriend, you say?” he asked, causing Buffy to give a curt nod and vague noise of assent.
“I’ll make it work. I hope he’s ready for some embarrassing breakup stories of my own,” Jonah said, shifting back into his jovial persona with ease.
“Is anyone ever ready for the story of crazy Harry?” Buffy asked, causing waves of laughter through the car.
“How many of your plates did he break, again?” Marty asked. A dark look flashed in front of Jonah’s eyes.
“All of them,” he said, low and reverent.
“A moment of silence,” Andi added.
-
There was another establishing shot of Utah, backed by some fun, upbeat music, before the footage cut back to the car as it rolled into the parking lot of an apartment complex.
The gang crept out of the car, one by one, greeting TJ’s mom at the door, shaking her hand and giving their hushed greetings.
Then, they made their way through the house, led by Mrs. Kippen. The camera lingered on a couple of family pictures: TJ in middle school, holding a championship trophy, TJ on college graduation day, holding his degree for Physical Education, and one of the whole family when TJ was still young, all on a picnic table.
Finally, the whole group stopped in front of a door, where occasional noises of video game blasts and grunts of effort streamed through. The door itself had been stripped bare: little white fades where decorations and signs used to be.
TJ’s mom shuffled through the mass of people to the door, knocking in what was obviously an established pattern between the two of them. Immediately, the noises from the game stopped, replaced by footsteps thudding on carpet.
He opened the door, revealing a TJ not shown in family portraits. Here, his usually slick hair was greasy and unkempt, splayed across his head. He was confused at the sight of the GHC in front of his door, and his wide eyes were accentuated by the deep bags beneath them.
“DAMN, son!” Buffy interrupted, shoving herself to the front so she could reach for the hair itself, causing the people around her to laugh a bit as she examined the oily strands up close, “when was the last time you used shampoo?”
TJ pulled himself away from Buffy’s grasp, causing him to walk right into Cyrus, with his arms crossed and a faux-judgemental look on his face.
“Are those… basketball shorts?” Cyrus asked, as TJ moved back and got to face him properly.
“It’s a casual saturday! Can’t I have this?” TJ exclaimed defensively.
“Casual saturdays? What are you, straight? Grow up,” Jonah joked, causing TJ to turn around once again.
“Who are you?!” he exclaimed, putting his hands up and looking around like a frightened squirrel.
“These are the people who are gonna help you out of this rut you’re in,” his mom said, arms crossed and voice steady.
“How?! By roasting me within an inch of my life?!” he screeched.
“No. By helping you within an inch of your life,” Andi said, taking on the intonation of a superhero from a movie.
“The roasting is just for fun, honestly,” Buffy added, before tapping Marty on the shoulder to let him know that the professional part of their work was about to begin.
“So, TJ. You ready to get help?” he said, his tone turned more serious and sincere.
“God help me. I’ll try this out, I guess,” TJ said, earning a ruffle of his hair from his mom and a series of hearty pats on the back.
“No need to call me God, Buffy quipped.
-
The first one on one “getting to know you session” was between Andi and TJ, making lunch for the whole squad. She was already trying to plant her seeds of excellence, to sway him away from just cooking three pots of ramen at the same time.
“But it would be a good challenge, though! Isn’t that what you guys are all about?” he asked as Andi snatched the packet of dry ramen out of his hands again.
“This isn’t the type of challenge you’ll thrive on- stop! No!” she yelled, leaping forward to block him from getting into one of the cabinets.
“Well, what do you suggest, then?” he asked. He moved away from the cabinet a little bit, but Andi knew enough about false senses of security to let up on her defense.
“I don’t know… what do you like to eat? Not the easy thing, but what you actually like.”
“Well, it’s probably hard to make and I don’t wanna-”
“We’ll find an easy way to make it. You can make brownies in a mug, these days, the world is your oyster! What’s something lunch-y we could all eat?”
TJ considered it for a second, stepping even further away from the cabinet holding the stacks of ramen.
“Have you had those protein bowls from, like, smoothie places?” he asked.
Andi smiled, and dove into the refrigerator as TJ put on a good cooking playlist.
-
Over lunch, Buffy began her own plans as she sat on the couch with TJ, eating polite bites of the protein bowl he had made, which was messy but still functionally tasty. Andi clearly had a good springing board, she had already started thumbing through her files of intermediate level recipes for healthy food.
“So what’s your morning routine, TJ?” she started, keeping her tone professional. It took a bit of effort to shove all her past memories of fuckboys being too scared of her confident attitude to treat her like an actual human being. TJ stank of that fear, of that intangible terror over the idea of being bested by god forbid, a woman.
“One good days or bad days?” he asked with a smirk on his face, trying and failing to mask his discomfort, just now coming to the light.
“Which happens more?” she asked, already sensing this conversation going south.
“Recently? Bad days. I basically just do nothing. Wake up, waste time, fall asleep. The, uh, classic depressive episode stuff. But that’s not me, it’s just… the depressed version. Like an evil twin or something. I’m not lazy, I’m just having a rough time, y’know?”
“I know,” Buffy said, her eyes narrowed, as if she was balancing between shock and suspicion. This was not the fuckboy type she was familiar with.
“Depression really be like that,” TJ said, trying to force a lighter tone into it, which only made Buffy put her arm on his shoulder.
“It really do. I can’t fix that, but I can make it easier to do your hair in the morning,” she said in return as she patted TJ’s greasy, unkempt hair. He only gave her a smile, before closing his eyes in preparation.
“I’d really like that,” he said, oddly vulnerable.
Buffy wasn’t won over yet, but she could live with helping this guy. She punctuated the conversation with a ruffle of his hair, making him flinch and laugh a little bit.
-
“Okay, on a scale of zero to one hundred percent, how much of your room hasn’t been touched in two years?” Marty asked, speaking from across the room to TJ, who was sitting on his bed, while Marty hung in the doorway, surveying his canvas with an appraising eye.
“Fifty two? I don’t open the drawers, or anything, but I still walk around?”
“A precise fellow. That’ll be helpful,” Marty said.
“So, uh, what are you thinking?” TJ asked, looking around the room, trying to see it through Marty’s eyes. It was hard, seeing the room without all the memories and baggage, and he felt like he just couldn’t shake the past off.
“Clean it, first and foremost. Get the grime out, get the junk out. Then we’ll see where the night takes us,” he said, and TJ fought a dumb, futile blush at the words and the way the words reminded him of his Eligible Bachelor days. He supposed for a second that his Eligible Bachelor days were happening again, but it felt weird like this, after the ex.
“Can I ask a weird question?” said TJ, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.
“Shoot.”
“Could I get one of those hand chairs? They look really cool,” he said, for a moment envisioning his room as something other than what it has always been. Marty just laughed, and they had their moment of shared understanding. It hit TJ that this might not be as bad as he feared.
-
TJ had become visibly exhausted by the time he and Jonah sat down on the outside porch steps. TJ had adopted enough momentary courtesy to pour Jonah a glass of lemonade with way too much ice, taking one bottle of Gatorade before taking on what was to be an inevitably rough conversation.
“So, what’s your background here? College? Any former jobs? Current jobs? Tell me all the hot deets,” Jonah said with no irony whatsoever. TJ could only laugh a bit, looking down at the ground and wondering how the hell he got there.
“I have a degree in Physical Education, so I’m all college-d up. I help out at a local kid’s gym every other week, and it’s one of the only things I’ll wake up at 7 in the morning to do. They’re pretty great kids, so it makes it worth it,” TJ said, smiling a bit at the ground with the memories of teaching people how to do somersaults.
“Woah! That’s awesome! Is it a paid job, or more of a volunteering gig?”
“Volunteering, but they are actually getting some openings, and I’m thinking of applying. It would be rough, though, I have zero work experience and-”
“How long have you been volunteering there?” Jonah interrupted, already thinking it through.
“This is my second year, but-”
“I think I figured out one of your missions for this week. You’re going to shoot your shot, here, and we’re going to put together some kickass resume,” Jonah said, gesticulating wildly as the plan formed properly in his mind. He totally ignored the clear uncertainty on TJ’s face.
“I’m not going to get it, though. I’m unqualified, and there really isn’t a reason to hire me,” TJ said in response before taking a nervous sip of his Gatorade.
“We’ll see… we’ll see,” Jonah said in response, laughing kindly and refusing to acknowledge the doubt in the air. He was basically bouncing with anticipation.
-
The final first meeting of the day was with Cyrus, on the living room couch while the rest of the crew puttered around together in the kitchen, trying to dance around each other while making what smelled like lasagna but looked like a mess.
“So I bet this has been one hell of a day for you,” Cyrus began, settling into the couch while TJ took a sip of hot cocoa from a “Best Grandpa” mug.
“You know it. It’s half fun and half terrifying,” TJ said, moving so he faced Cyrus on the couch.
“Like a good horror movie,” said Cyrus. They shared a laugh, then silence.
“So, you’re the clothes guy, right?” TJ asked before he shot a look to the kitchen after hearing an ominous crash from the kitchen. Cyrus only rolled his eyes and leaned back further into the cushy couch, holding his own cup of hot cocoa.
“Yeah. I’m the best dressed and the least functional, it’s my claim to fame.”
“Please, you look super functional,” said TJ, playfully slapping Cyrus’ shoulder with a wide smile, laughing a bit.
“C’mon, I have, like, toddler levels of functionality. Sometimes, instead of making sandwiches, I just eat the parts of the sandwich separately.”
“Oh my god, you do that too?” asked TJ, so excited that he spilled a bit of cocoa on the couch, causing him to hiss, then put the hot cocoa on the couch, but he was a bit too fast and some of the cocoa splashed on his hand, resulting in a loud yelp of pain. Once the cup was on the table, he tried to mop up the mess with the hem of his shirt, one arm occupied with that and the other desperately trying to shake off the pain of a light burn.
Naturally, this turned Cyrus into a giggling mess.
“Okay, step one in the fashion process will be finding some disaster proof clothes. Disaster proof, comfortable, and flattering. DPCF.”
“DPCF. I’m down for that. I put the D in down for that, for sure,” stuttered TJ.
“Y’all ready for lasagna?” yelled Marty through the wall, leading to Cyrus and TJ sharing a look of “can you believe them?”, before they clambered off the couch for what was bound to be a very interesting dinner.