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Poofing into the studio, Alex silently cursed Luke. He loved him, sure, but that boy had never learnt the definition of ‘neat’. That, or he was just lying through his teeth when he claimed to have tidied up the studio.
Alex scanned the room for the familiar splash of pink, frowning to himself when it was nowhere to be seen. He was supposed to be meeting Willie in - he glanced down at his watch - ten minutes. C’mon, it had to be here somewhere.
He searched all the usual places; Luke’s couch, near his drum set, the loft - but he couldn’t find his pink hoodie. He didn't need it exactly, but it was his first proper date with Willie. He was nervous, and his hoodie was comforting.
He snatched his drumsticks from the table, twirling one round with his fingers as he kept looking. It became obvious that his hoodie wasn’t in the studio, so he was about to poof away when he remembered - the studio bathroom.
Reggie was the only one who really used it. Now that the boys had their own room in the Molina house, Luke and Alex just used the bathroom there, but Reggie had a weird attachment to the old bath in the studio.
He walked to the back of the studio, and pushed open the creaky wooden door, flakes of peeling white paint staying on his fingers. He brushed those off, and stepped into the room. There was a person in the corner, sitting in front of the vintage mirror. They startled at the noise, and whipped around, eyes widening when they settled on Alex.
“Willie? Hey, I thought we were meeting at the museum?”
Alex trailed off as he properly looked at his boyfriend. He loved Willie with all his heart, but right now, they looked like a mess. His hair was tangled, and tied back in a messy bun. Their eyes were red, and lines of uneven black makeup were drawn around them. He was drowning in Alex’s hoodie, their hands just peeking out of the sleeves.
“Wills, are you okay?” He started, slowly moving forward.
His boyfriend gazed up at him, lip trembling. This was a whole new side of Willie that Alex had never seen before. Willie was always excited, fast-moving, electric. Their smile was ever present and he constantly had a witty comeback ready. The boy in front of him was shivering, face contorted like they were in pain. The energy that usually hummed when Willie was around crackled dangerously.
When Alex sat down next to them, it only took Willie a second to burst into tears, soaking Alex’s shirt. Alex froze; this was new to him. Willie was supposed to be the one that had everything together, the one who always had answers. But Alex did what he could. He hugged Willie tightly, whispering into his ear. It’ll be okay. Breathe. In for four, out for seven. I love you. Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou.
A few minutes later, Willie’s breathing had slowed, their sobs becoming quieter. He hugged Alex back, placing the softest kiss on his shoulder.
“Hey Wills. You’re okay, I promise. Do you think you can tell me what happened?” Alex said quietly, running his hand down Willie’s back.
Willie took a few deep breaths, his grip on Alex’s hand tightening. They opened their mouth a couple times, trying to decide what to say,
“I - uh, Caleb. He-”
His voice broke a little, but Alex just cuddled them closer and stroked his thumb along Willie’s hand, which seemingly helped.
“Sorry. I was trying to put eyeliner on, and make a special effort for our first date. But it…it just reminded me of the club. Getting ready for our dances. Caleb would get angry if it wasn’t perfect, and I couldn't get the wings even, and my hand was shaking and I -”
His voice had started to shake again, and Alex could feel them trembling. He pressed a light kiss on Willie’s forehead, leaning down and saying,
“Shh, it’s okay. I get it. Caleb basically traumatised you, Willie. You were just a kid when you died, and he took advantage of that and hurt you. But he’s gone, Wills. You’re safe with us. You’re safe with me.”
Willie lifted his head from Alex’s chest to stare at him, the tiniest smile on their face. Alex’s heart sped up just a bit. How did he get so lucky? He only ever dated shitty guys in the 90s, with the exception of brief flings with his bandmates, but he somehow landed himself this beautiful, kind, funny skater ghost. He’d known for a while, obviously. But right then, with Willie looking at him like that - like Alex was the only guy in the world - he knew that William Ortega was the love of his goddamn life. Afterlife. Whatever, same difference.
“I, thanks, Lex. Really. Thanks, I guess sometimes I just need a reminder. That Caleb isn’t the only person who cares about me. Cared. I mean he didn't care about me but…sorry, it’s still hard.”
Alex gave them an understanding nod, and suddenly sat up straighter,
“Hey! We can push our date back a bit, and maybe I could do your eyeliner? If you want?”
Willie sat up as well, this time giving Alex a surprised look,
“You can do eyeliner?” He said, failing his attempt to be serious with a cheesy grin.
Alex faked a gasp and gave him a little shove, both of them laughing.
“Rude, Willie. And yeah, I learnt because Reggie could never keep his hands still long enough, but he really wanted to wear it. And then Luke tried it out, then Bobbers. I basically became Sunset Curve’s unpaid makeup artist.”
Alex felt a swell of pride as Willie raised his eyebrows and looked him up and down.
“Damn, Alex. That’s actually pretty impressive. Okay, why not.”
Alex spun himself around, dragging Willie with him so they were facing the mirror. Alex carefully poured some makeup remover onto some cotton pads, and gently wiped the eyeliner from Willie’s face.
“Wills, do you wanna talk? Or I can just talk to you if you’re still a bit shaky.”
Willie nodded at the second one, and Alex carefully tilted Willie’s head towards him as he kept wiping the smudged makeup from their face.
“Okay. I’ll tell you about the first time I did this for Reggie. Oh my god, it was terrible, he looked like a panda. Weirdly, he kinda liked it though, so I just did it like that for a bit. But then I finally learnt how to do a proper wing, and he liked it way better. He claimed it was part of the ‘rockstar image’ but we all agreed Reggie loves feeling pretty.”
Willie giggled at that, his eyes brighter. Alex tossed the blackened cotton pads into the bin, and lightly dabbed a cloth over Willie’s face, making sure there was no makeup remover left. Once he’d done that, he grabbed the eyeliner from beside the sink, and flicked off the lid.
“So it became a regular thing for Reggie. Pretty soon after, Luke asked me to do it for gigs. He would only wear it on stage, but I swear he became ten times more confident with it on, and if you asked Bobby, ten times hotter. Luke was a bit more reluctant about asking me, I think. He’d seen the shit Reggie got for it. But when he wore it to school once, no one said anything, and they stopped saying stuff to Reg as well, so he wore it to school from then on out. Which meant I had to meet him in the bathroom early every day, which was annoying as shit, but he brought me coffee at least.”
Alex’s free hand had drifted to Willie’s shoulder, tracing out little patterns into the cloth of his hoodie. Willie sighed, relaxing into the chair. Alex softly put his hand under their chin, and tilted Willie’s upwards a little, starting to brush the black pen across their eyelids.
“Bobby was the last one who asked me to. To this day, I’m convinced he did it for Luke, because Luke had been harping on about how boys look so good with eyeliner. Only ever when Bobby was in the room though. So Bobby asked me, and I did it, of course. I’m guessing his plan worked because Bobby and Luke stayed after practise that day, and had some….interesting marks the next morning.”
Willie laughed out loud at that, beaming at Alex, who smiled back. Okay, Willie was feeling better. As long as Willie was okay, everything was okay.
“What about you, Alex? Did the unpaid makeup artist ever try out some eyeliner?” Willie asked softly, his voice still slightly hoarse.
“Not really. Dad would’ve killed me. In my room, alone, I guess.” Alex replied, clearly lost in thought. He was remembering the one time he did wear it. His dad saw. That night, as he furiously scrubbed his eyes in the bathroom, he remembered being unsure if the redness was from that or the tears.
Willie looked in the mirror, his mouth open as they admired Alex’s handiwork.
“I…I can do your eyeliner, Alex. If you want. It’ll just be us in the museum, it’s still closed.”
“Oh so we’re still breaking and entering? Cool, cool, cool.” Alex said, expertly dodging the joking punch from his boyfriend.
“But yeah,” Alex continued, “I’d love that, if you’re up for it.”
He squeezed Willie’s hand, and carefully handed them the eyeliner. Willie had been broken. But slowly, Alex was picking up the pieces, kissing each fragment before he put them back together.
Willie had been broken. But he was healing.