Chapter Text
Alex wasn't a planned kid.
That's not something he was ever told, but he knows it's true because his mom had to drop out of college to take care of him and, well. He's six years older than his sister and eight years older than his brother. The children who were planned after his mom went back and finished college.
And, like, this isn't something Alex actively thinks about, but it's sometimes hard not to when he's had to miss band practice for the past two weeks because of it. His parents have been scrambling to find a new babysitter since theirs quit to move cross-country with her boyfriend on short notice, and Alex had been their temporary replacement. And, well, it made him think about these things. Because Alex wasn't planned in a lot of ways.
Ava is only eleven, but she's turning out to be the perfect daughter. She's a straight-A student in advanced math, plays travel soccer and is good at it, is sociable and extroverted, and a people pleaser. She carries a lot on her shoulders for an eleven year old, so Alex watches over her carefully, but it seems like she thrives under pressure. Like they say: diamonds are created under pressure. Ava is going to be a diamond. She already is.
Austin is nine, and he's… He's confident and sure of himself. He plays baseball and hockey. He loves science and experiments with stuff around the house and is in Science Olympiad. He goes with his dad to the electric company to see demonstrations of power. He has crushes on girls.
So, like.
He's everything that Alex isn't.
Alex is anxious: he's scared of the world and of people and of everything that can and might and will go wrong. He played tee-ball and hockey as a kid but once he sat behind a drum set, sports left his head for good and he had a one-track mind. And, like, he did well in school, he was a straight-A student, but nothing… interested him the way math interests his sister and science interests his brother. Sure, he likes reading, but he likes reading, he doesn't like writing about what he reads. He's never been with his dad to work, not once, because even if they're just demonstrations, dispatch work is boring and lineman work is terrifying.
Most importantly, he has crushes on boys.
Not, like.
Not that his parents know that. No, they don't and they can't. Because, well, his parents knowing would end in disaster. Maybe not horrible disaster but he's heard the homophobic slurs that have left their mouths, has heard their snide comments about Pride parades and Pride month, has seen them sneer at gay and lesbian couples and gender nonconforming people. He—he knows it'd end horribly. He doesn't want to make them uncomfortable, doesn't want them to be upset or sad over their own son. He doesn't want them to be disappointed in him. He couldn't live with himself if he put that pressure on their shoulders.
He'll be out of here in a year anyways. It can wait. He has no reason to come out to them. Seventeen years and he's never had a boyfriend, and he's met everyone at his school. Not only are the two guys that are out not… he's not interested in them, okay? But like, also, just. He's not out at school either and, well. There's no one he's really interested in dating. He hasn't really had a crush since ninth grade and then he went off to Ohio for college. Ohio. That killed his crush pretty quick.
So, yeah, Alex wasn't a planned kid. He wasn't what his parents expected or wanted and he certainly wasn't his perfect, conforming siblings. Not that he had anything against his siblings. Fuck, he loved them. They were perfect, not in the 'perfect' way, but in the way that they meant the world to him. He just felt guilty that they had been shaped so entirely by their parents, and Alex had been too young to stop their parents from doing so. His only ticket out had been mental illness.
Jenny Newsom is another perfect person in the Mercer eyes. Perfect GPA, conventionally beautiful, homecoming queen, called Alex's mom and dad Mr. and Mrs. Mercer no matter how many times they told her to call them by their first names, and loved her job as a babysitter to Ava and Austin.
Well, she was another perfect person in the Mercer's eyes.
Alex doesn't think his parents agree with the way that she picked up at eighteen to move across the country. Especially to move in with her long distance boyfriend with minimal warning to her family and the Mercers.
Jenny Newsom was Ava and Austin's babysitter for three years and her disappearance (and betrayal, in his parents eyes) left them scrambling to find a replacement. It left Alex missing band practice to watch them for five weeks while they found the perfect babysitter to replace Jenny. Alex doesn't think a perfect babysitter exists, but his parents are adamant, and Alex is surprised to see it pay off. They tell him that they've found someone and that he can tell the band he can return to practice starting September 15th and—they're probably not even going to get to practice that day, they're going to be too excited about just being able to hang out again.
(*)
September 2021
So they count down the days to September 15th—which doesn't take long because it's only five days away from the day that his parents hired the new sitter—and when it finally comes, Alex is practically floating. It's not that he doesn't like spending time with his siblings, it's just… when you're seventeen, it's not what you want to do all the time. He'll gladly take over when a sitter is sick or busy, but for five weeks? Alex just wants to get back to his friends, wants to get back to his drums.
On the 15th, he hurries out of his room and down the hall towards the door, drumsticks in his back pocket and hat shoved backwards on his head. He's so ready to just go.
"Oh, good, Alex, we caught you," his mom's voice stops him from the kitchen.
Fuck, maybe not.
Alex freezes and turns, looking through the archway leading to the other room. His eyes land first on his mom, dressed in her scrubs and working to pull her hair up into a high ponytail. Routine for when she's just about to leave for work as a nurse at the hospital. But his eyes are drawn to the left where he sees someone else standing and when they settle on the mystery person, his mind goes blank.
Leaning against the counter with his arms crossed is one of the… the prettiest men Alex has ever seen. He's in a plain white t-shirt with doodles on it and black shorts and his hair is falling down over his shoulders. Against the white of his shirt, his skin—a warm copper tone—stands out. Alex's eyes travel up to his face and—what the fuck.
"This is Willie—he's Ava and Austin's new babysitter. He's at—you're at USC, right? Not UCLA?"
"Yeah," Willie nods, and god his voice is just as pretty. He looks at Alex and pushes off the counter. He walks over and reaches out a hand. "Hey, I'm Willie."
"Uh, Alex," Alex says, blinking down at Willie's hand for a moment before reaching forward to take it in his. His skin is soft and warm and Alex feels a spark travel up his arm. Fuck. He pulls his arm back and lifts his eyes to Willie and clears his throat. "Uh—USC? What do you study?"
"I've got to get going," Alex's mom interrupts. "Alex, drive safe. Willie, all of the emergency information—"
"Yeah, binder in the cupboard," Willie says, flashing a charming grin. "I got it, Mrs. Mercer. We'll be fine."
"I told you, Willie, it's Cheryn," she says with a smile. After a moment, she looks at the clock and pulls a face. "Right, though. Not that I don't trust you! Just—Jenny was with us for three years, it's—"
Willie shakes his head and holds up two hands in front of his chest. A display of how harmless he really is. "I totally understand. It's new, I'm new. But we really will be fine."
"Okay," she nods, and then lets out a long breath. She sighs, and turns on her heel and marches towards the front door, calling out a "love you guys!" as she goes. Alex watches her go, watches the door open and close behind her, and then he's left alone with Willie. Well—alone with Willie and his siblings in the room next to them.
"Psychology," Willie says, and Alex spins to face him.
"Huh?"
"I'm studying psychology," Willie answers his earlier question. When Alex still doesn't answer, Willie frowns. "… At… USC?"
"Oh!" Alex says. "Sorry, I—sorry, I—… sorry."
Willie grins. "No need to be sorry, man. We all have those moments, don't we?"
Alex hums. "You'd know, wouldn't you? Mr. Psychology."
"Absolutely," Willie laughs. "You know, it's actually something called Abstracted Awareness and it happens to everyone several times a day and—dude I'm totally kidding you."
"Oh—oh," Alex huffs out a laugh. "Fuck, you—yeah, see, you're too trustworthy. I'd have believed anything you just told me."
"No, it actually is called dissociation, and you can actually Google that one," Willie says. He crosses his arms and tilts his head. "Trustworthy though, huh? You wanna tell that to my elementary school teachers who called me a problem kid?"
"Sure, got their numbers?" Alex teases back.
"Yeah, got all my past teacher's numbers right in the contacts in my phone in case anyone ever calls me trustworthy. You know, I should have also had your mom talk to them, too. She hired me to look after your siblings—that shows some trust in me, right?"
"Oh, a hundred percent," Alex agrees. "My parents do not settle. I think you were like the sixteenth person they interviewed."
Willie's eyebrows shoot up. "Huh. Nice to know. Take that Mrs. Stevenson."
Alex laughs, and the small movement of his head makes his eyes catch on the clock. His laughter cuts off abruptly. "Shit," he swears. "I'm gonna be late for practice. It was—nice talking to you, honestly, it was, but my band is gonna kill me. Good luck with the hellhounds."
"When they're older, I'm telling them you called them that."
"When they're older, they'll understand they were," Alex shoots back.
He leaves the house to the sound of Willie's laughter.
(*)
"Fuck my life," Alex says, walking into the studio, directly into the arm of the couch and face planting on to it.
"Hey!" Reggie yelps as Alex's torso drapes across his lap. He shifts under Alex and huffs.
"Did you break a nail again?" Luke asks and, like, fuck him, does he know how uncomfortable playing the drums is with a broken nail?
Julie, lovely Julie, is the only one who loves him, and she demonstrates this by walking over and crouching down in front of him. She cards her fingers through his hair and hums. "What's up, Alex?"
"Babysitter," he says. She's quiet. He blinks up at her and she's got a confused look on her face, which, like, okay, that's fair. That's not much to go on. "Cute babysitter."
"Oh, hun," Julie says. She massages her fingers against his scalp and he feels his shoulders relax. "What's he look like?"
"Cute."
"Yeah, we got that," Reggie mutters shifting under Alex once again. "Details would be helpful."
Alex huffs but he closes his eyes and thinks back to the first moment he saw Willie—his first impression, the first look, the only time he was really able to take him in because the rest of the time he'd been in full gay panic. "There's—hair. Like, he's got long, black hair. And—dark, really pretty eyes. Kinda like dirt—"
"Dirt?" Luke laughs.
"They're dark and brown and like, earthy," Alex glares. "Dirt. … But, like, pretty dirt. Shiny dirt. The dirt that makes diamonds."
"I'm pretty sure diamonds aren't formed in dirt they're formed in—"
"Leave Alex alone, Reg," Julie sighs.
"Okay, but like, factually—"
"Reg."
Reggie turns his head away and crosses his arms.
"His eyes are like dirt," Julie says and she doesn't sound like she's making fun of Alex, like, at all. He's not sure how she does it but he loves her for it.
"Dirt," he says. "And he—looks like, fit? Like, he's definitely fit, but I mean like, dude's got muscles fit. Probably has abs fit. Julie?"
"Yeah, hun?"
"What if he has abs?"
"That's a problem for future you."
Alex thinks and—yeah. "Yeah," he agrees. "Julie?"
"Yeah, hun?"
"What's future me supposed to do if he has abs?"
Julie smiles down at him. "You treat him like a normal human being, first off."
Alex narrows his eyes. "I know that." He does. Willie may be beautiful but he's still a person and Alex isn't—he's not like, ignoring that? He's not going to treat Willie like some untouchable, like some god, like some impossible being. Because he is possible. That's, like. That's part of the frustrating part. He's completely beautiful and he's going to do something important with his life and he cares about people and he's obviously good with kids and he's smart and probably really funny because he's got a killer smile and laugh and it'd be a waste if he weren't funny and—
That's just not fair, is it? It's like the world created Willie and placed him in Alex's orbit to taunt him. Like: look at this fascinating thing that you can't have. Look at this lovely person that you'll never be good enough for. Look at this incredible being that can't compare to anything else your mind can even fathom.
And—that's not entirely true.
Alex is just basing these things off of what he knows about Willie. Realistically he knows Willie won't be perfect, they won't be a perfect match, but—god he wants them to be. He wants Willie to have his sense of humor, he wants him to find things that Alex likes interesting, and Alex wants to find things that Willie likes interesting. He wants them to match up, wants them to make sense in the world.
He groans.
"It's okay," Julie hums.
Alex feels like a petulant child, but, well.
It's so not okay.
(*)
It's two weeks into Willie working for the Mercers when Alex gets to talk to him—like talk to him—for the first time.
Alex makes it home from band practice around nine, which is almost two hours earlier than usual. But Reggie's family is leaving for a funeral up in Fresno at five in the morning and Reggie is useless without sleep, so they called practice early. This means that Alex gets home in essentially the middle of Willie's shift and—
Oh god.
Austin is nowhere to be seen, which, understandable, his bedtime is nine. But Ava's is nine thirty but sometimes she doesn't quite make it and tonight is one of those nights because—because—
Ava is passed out across Willie's lap, curled up in his arms. Even with how big she is, she looks tiny in his hold and Alex chokes on his inhale. He… was not prepared for this. He wasn't expecting to see this tonight. He doesn't know how to process it.
Because—he can't call Willie a crush, at least not completely. He's cute, and he's nice, and Alex likes him, but he doesn't really know him, so he can't say for sure whether or not he likes him. He can make up scenarios in his head about Willie being the perfect guy, but in all honesty, he and Willie are probably two completely different people who can get along but don't share many interests and can't carry more than polite conversation. Willie is a psychology major for fuck's sake and Alex is—Alex is—Alex doesn't know what his future is.
Alex has two groups of people pulling him in two different directions and he doesn't know what the right path is. He doesn't know if there is a right path. Because, like, on one hand: college is important, right? College is what people are supposed to do after high school typically, isn't it? His parents are right—he should go to college, get a degree, and go from there. And—but—on the other hand, he doesn't need a degree to play with the band. Like, maybe it'd be different if they weren't already getting offers for record deals, but they're already talking with a few different management companies and they've looked over recording contracts. Luke is right: he doesn't need to go to college to rock.
Would Willie think less of him if he didn't go to college? Would he think that Alex was wasting his life away, just like his parents keep telling him he'd be doing?
Oh—why does he care? Again, it's not like he and Willie are going to—to have some incredible connection. What would they even have in common? What does a psych major have in common with a drummer?
… There's a punch line in there somewhere.
He turns his attention back to Ava and enters the room finally, crossing over to the couch. He bends down to scoop Ava into his arms and Willie blinks up at him, startled. Alex smiles down at him and nods once, glancing at Ava, then into the hallway where her room is. He carries her off gently, careful not to jostle her too much as he walks, and it doesn't take him long to get her to her room and settled into bed. She stirs briefly when he tucks her in, but not enough to actually wake up. He brushes her hair out of her face and whispers a soft good night to her before leaving her bedside and walking out of her room, shutting her door behind him.
He heads back to the living room, where he finds Willie sitting on the edge of the couch, looking unsure of himself. Alex waves him off and motions for him to sit back, and takes a seat at the opposite end of the couch. "I'm not going to make you leave and get docked pay just because we called practice a little early," Alex tells him. "I'll tell mom that I hung out with Julie and Luke for a bit even after Reg left."
Willie frowns. "I mean, I don't need—"
"No, it's cool," Alex shrugs.
"Well—thanks," Willie says.
Alex nods. He glances at the TV to see what's playing and laughs. "Oh, no, she sucked you into this?"
"Tangled is a masterpiece," Willie says, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest. "She didn't suck me into anything."
"All right," Alex holds up his hands in surrender, "I'll give you that Tangled is definitely the best princess movie there is. Maybe I've just become bitter after seeing it nearly a hundred times."
Willie sucks in a breath between his teeth. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, that'll do it."
Alex grins at him and sits back on the couch, turning his attention to the movie playing on screen. He's surprised to find that he doesn't feel awkward sitting next to Willie in silence. Even though there's a movie playing, it's quiet—probably muted by Willie once Ava had fallen asleep—and Alex's anxiety usually feels the need to fill silences with conversation or he thinks he's doing something wrong. But Willie's presence doesn't feel imposing, doesn't feel daunting.
Next to him, Willie is bouncing his knee and playing with his fingers, but when Alex risks a glance at his face, he looks entirely calm. And—Reggie fidgets too, so he knows some people just need movement, so maybe Willie just needs to move. Maybe he's not anxious, maybe he just can't stand being still. Reggie usually talks a mile a minute when he's fidgeting though, and Willie looks all too happy to relax against the cushions of the couch.
Well—he was, until he turns to Alex—"So you're in a band?"
Alex blinks and pulls himself out of his thoughts and focuses his eyes on Willie's. "Uh—yeah," he nods. "Yeah. We're, uh, Julie and the Phantoms. Tell your friends," Alex says, and then winces because Willie didn't ask what his band was called, just that he was in a band. Now he's just made an ass of himself and—
"No way, dude," Willie says, diving over the armrest of the couch to the table holding the lamp. Alex can briefly catch a glimpse of light reflecting against what must be Willie's phone as he picks it up. He unlocks it and taps the screen a few times and then turns the screen to show Alex—
"That's us," Alex frowns. "That's like, that's the first song we put out on Spotify."
"I know," Willie beams. "You played at a house party my friends and I were at a few years ago and I looked you guys up that night. That's so awesome."
"That's—what?"
Willie laughs and pulls his phone back to his chest. "No, yeah, I've been following your new music too but I haven't seen you guys in concert so I guess there'd be no way for me to recognize you, I guess. You guys are awesome, though. Do you have a deal lined up or anything?"
Alex grimaces. "We… kinda."
"What do you mean kinda?"
"It's… it's complicated, and I don't want to bore you with it," Alex murmurs, turning back to the TV. On screen, lanterns float around Rapunzel and Flynn as they sing to each other. Alex swallows and focuses on not getting emotional because like—fuck, at last she sees the lights, but he sees the light. They fucking deserve it.
Willie hums next to him. "I wouldn't be bored, I don't think, but we don't have to talk about it." Alex looks over and smiles at him and he smiles back. He tilts his head, then asks, "Do you mind if I ask about you beyond your band?"
Uh.
Uh.
Uh?
Alex—Alex suddenly isn't sure if he exists outside of the band. Is his name Alex? Or is it alextually Phantom #3? Does he have any skills beyond playing drums and singing in tune? Does he have any interests beyond counting beats? He—he's not so sure.
"Uh—"
"If you're not comfortable—"
"No, I just—I've suddenly forgotten everything about myself beyond my band," Alex says, shaking his head. He looks down at his hands, closing them into fists thinking maybe he can grab some thoughts out of thin air and shove them into his head but nothing comes to him. He looks over at Willie. "I—"
"Let's start with the band, but not the band," Willie smiles, bright and reassuring. "There are four of you, right?"
Alex nods. But—"Well, four of us and Flynn. She's not in the band but she's our manager and we consider her part of it."
"And you guys are all close?"
Alex lets out an ugly sounding sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort. He feels his face flame, but he clears his throat and nods. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, they're—they're all my family. I call them my band, but. To me, that means more than 'my family.'"
Willie's eyebrows furrow together. "So you're not close with your family, then?"
"Oh, no, I… Ava and Austin—they're great. I love them. I'd do anything for them," he says confidently. He glances down the hallway to where their rooms are and then back at Willie. Willie is waiting for him to continue, but he's not pushing. Alex appreciates that more than he can say. He takes a minute to collect his thoughts and then starts in with, "My parents… they're… they're great. They love me, you know? And I love them. And… and… and—"
"Alex," Willie murmurs, leaning towards him, reaching across the couch and placing a hand next to his knee. "You don't have to tell me about it. Tell me about the band. Your band."
And so Alex does. He tells Willie about meeting Luke and Reggie in preschool and about how they grew up together. When Alex started piano lessons to make his parents happy Luke threw a fit and wanted to play too, but his parents couldn't afford weekly lessons, so they bought him a used guitar. Reggie stole his dad's bass every chance he got so he wasn't left out, but Alex taught him everything he learned at piano lessons too—Luke was too focused on his guitar to care. And then in fifth grade they joined band. Reggie played clarinet, Luke played the trombone, and Alex—he stuck with percussion so he could hide away in the back. And it was all right, it was okay. And then a few years later he sat behind his first drum set and—well, it's technically percussion, but it's so much more.
He tells Willie about meeting Julie and Flynn in middle school, about how Luke went to get his trombone after school one day and heard a girl practicing her choir solo for an upcoming concert and it was love at first sound. They spent the next three weeks tracking her down and when they finally found her at lunch she was sitting with three other girls, but Luke ignored them and forced his way into their table. He told her that he, Reggie, and Alex were looking to start a band and—wouldn't she be perfect?
She'd laughed at him at first but Luke was persistent and over the next few months they became friends as he insisted on sitting with Julie, Flynn, Carrie, and Kayla every day at lunch. By the time summer was approaching, Julie had been worn down enough to look at Luke and say, "One summer. We try for one summer and if it doesn't work out I'm out."
To put it succinctly: it worked out.
And Alex tells Willie how he fell in love with all of them—platonically—over the years. How they added to his days, how they made his nights easier to bear, how they made his mornings worth waking up to.
And Willie—he interjects stories of his own friends, Brandon and Micah, as he listens to Alex talking. Like when Alex tells him about Luke running away from home, Willie mentions how he has a blow up mattress in his closet for Brandon. And when Alex talks about Flynn's business mind, Willie tells him that Micah is a finance and business double major. Or when Alex says he loves the band, Willie smiles and says, "yeah, I know the feeling."
And—oh, god.
Feeling.
Oh god.
He takes back what he said earlier.
Willie is definitely a crush.