Chapter Text
Will tries not to let hatred rule his life. But, damn, does he hate this summer job.
He’s only got two weeks to go before this ice cream parlor closes shop for the fall. Only two weeks until September. But for now, it’s August, and Will is slaving away with nothing but a scoop held together with duct tape to fend away the soccer moms.
Really, Will doesn’t want this job to corrupt him. He wants to be kind, and that’s what he reminds himself everyday. I will be kind today, he tells himself in the bathroom mirror when the previously mentioned soccer moms get on his neck. But sometimes, when the hatred bubbles over, he comes home, he eats a bowl of cereal ( not ice cream!), rewatches Mamma Mia, and lets his mind wander.
This from moment, an hour away from closing, it looks like he’ll be having one of those nights.
There’s not many customers at this hour, so Will spends his time cleaning the counter. Yes, the counter was cleaned fifteen minutes ago. But Will’s the only person on shift, and his manager would kill him if he’s caught on his phone yet again, so this is how Will passes the time.
Only an hour to go.
After the third wipe down, the bell chimes from across the store, signaling to Will that there’s a customer. So he tosses the wipe, throws on a smile, and picks up his scoop. Soon, I’ll be watching Mamma Mia, he tells himself. Soon.
It’s a group of teenagers: great. Even though Will is, himself, a teenager, he can't help but have a heart stricken with fear. At this hour, there’s only one way to go: mayhem. But Will’s previously mentioned manager would gouge out his eyeballs if he was caught slacking because of a group of high schoolers. So, as the group approaches, Will keeps up his smile. Better to embrace it than to fight back.
But this group looks different than the rest. For one, they’re all in business casual attire. Strange for a group of teenagers, stranger for ten at night. Second, there are four of them, but one walks in front of the group with unmatched confidence. Behind this leader, the other three watch with masked glee, whispering to each other.
So it’s a prank, Will thinks, I’m about to get pranked. Whether it be a dick joke or straight up heckling, something is about to go down.
As the leader gets closer, Will can make out some distinguishing features. He’s wearing the same business casual, but his tie is a bit undone and his hair has fallen out of the gel a bit. On his fingers are an array of rings that glisten in the fluorescent light. He’s a bit shorter than Will, but that doesn’t matter much when there’s a counter with gallons of ice cream between them.
Finally, the leader reaches the counter and places his hands on top. His three friends are close behind, as if eager to hear what he has planned to say. Obviously, this act is rehearsed, but there’s still an electrified air around the four, full of potential.
“Hi,” the leader says. Will opens his mouth to reply with his formal greeting, but is stopped by the leader. “I have a question.”
Will looks to the group, then back to the leader. “Okay?” is all he allows himself to say.
“What here has the most dairy?”
Well, that’s not a question he gets very often, and this is his eighth week at the shop. The leader has asked the question without blinking, and his group behind him are watching attentively for Will’s reaction. So he says the first thing that comes to mind: “Pardon?”
“I mean, which ice cream here has the highest amount of milk?”
“I… don’t understand the question.” This doesn’t seem to be a prank due to the slow climb to the punch line. “Are you, like, lactose intolerant or something?”
One of the lactose-intolerant leader’s friends snorted behind him, causing Will to pay attention to who these people are anyway. The first one was wearing a similar suit to the leader’s, but was noticeably more put together. His glasses, however, did need a good cleaning. At Will’s look, this guy quickly recovered and moved towards the leader.
“Okay, hi,” he said, immediately moving next to the leader, who moved their mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted. “He’s not lactose intolerant, he just needs dairy.”
“With a lot of sugar, preferably,” said the leader. His arms were crossed now, in a stance of defiance against his friend with the glasses.
Partially out of curiosity and partially out of need to solve the puzzle, Will looked over to the other two friends. Unlike the boys, these girls were dressed distinctly more casually. The first one, closest to the original leader, was black and had a neatly maintained afro that looked like it took quite some time to style before arriving here. In her hands held a gold trophy, which only confused Will more.
The final friend stood behind the other three, though Will could tell she was likely the tallest. She had a high ponytail that swung as she shook her head, obviously trying not to laugh. Actually, only two out of five people were not finding mirth in this situation: Will and whoever this leader is.
Will sighed and checked his watch. Only fifteen minutes to closing. “Okay, um,” he began, “we close in fifteen minutes, so do you want to order something?” That was a lie- there's another fifty five minutes until Will can flip the sign on the door to CLOSED. But this gang doesn't need to know that.
The girl from the back looked up to the ceiling and finally let out a laugh. “Nico, get a milkshake,” she said. The leader- whose name must be Nico- groaned.
“It needs dairy-”
“They all have dairy! We’re in an ice cream shop!”
“Reyna-”
“Nico!” Here, the friend who must be Reyna laughed into her hand, probably as an apology to Will.
“Fine!” Nico flung back to now stare at Will. Under his determined gaze, Will felt a sudden urge to freeze. “Can I get a milkshake?”
Will nodded. “What kind?”
“Oh.” It seemed to have struck Nico that he didn’t think he’d get this far.
“Maybe,” the friend with glasses said to Nico, “you can get a vanilla milkshake and add a bunch of toppings.” Nico stopped to consider this, biting his lip slightly as he read the menu.
“Okay, I have to ask,” Will interrupted, earning each friend’s attention. “Why do you care so much about dairy? Is this, like, a keto thing?”
Nico (he seemed much less intimidating now that he had a name) placed his hands back on the counter as he spoke: “I need it.” His three friends now laughed all in unison, the sound reverberating off the walls. For a second, Will forgot that he was stuck in this job he pretends not to hate everyday. Finally, people who didn’t come in with giddy children or reeking of weed. It was refreshing.
But then his eyes met with Nico’s, who seemed to be realizing his embarrassment. Maybe this was a prank that went wrong. Maybe he really is keto?
“Can I ask why?” Will said, while the girl with the curls approached Nico and wrapped him in a hug, trophy still in hand.
“He’s a singer,” she said. Nico just shrugged and avoided eye contact, though he didn’t seem to mind the hug.
After a pause, Will said, “Pardon?”
“Singers can’t have dairy!” called the friend with the glasses. He and Reyna seemed to barely be able to stand, giggling to each other over something Will was excluded from.
“Hm,” said Will to himself. Then, to Nico, “So you’re a singer?”
Nico sighed, finally looking up to Will. “Yeah. So I, um, won a singing competition. Well, it was basically just a preliminary round for a bigger competition. Anyway, I won, so now I want to completely ruin my voice. Does that make sense?” He finished sheepishly, giving Will a shrug as an apology. The girl hugging him released his grip and held up the trophy.
“He won first place,” she said with a growing smile, “against all the singers in our city. So now in a few months, he’s going to compete against all the singers in the state!” She glowed with pride for Nico, though Nico himself looked like he wanted to run away from the sound of Reyna and the guy with glasses laughing behind him.
“Wow, congrats,” said Will, paying Nico a wide smile as he grabbed a milkshake cup. “I’m not a singer so I don’t know exactly what will destroy your vocal chords, but a caramel milkshake should do the job. Caramel is basically sugar and molasses, which gets really sticky. That’s not good for a voice, right?” Nico shook his head as his other two friends finally approached, seeming to have calmed down enough to watch Will make a milkshake. When he returned to the counter, the whole group was watching him intently, but none more than Nico, who watched with something akin to adoration. “What toppings would you like?” Will asked.
Nico paused to consider it, his eyes swiping over each option under the glass cover of the counter. Everyone in the shop held their breath as they waited for him to choose.
“Sour worms,” he finally spoke, breaking the silence.
“Literally why,” said Reyna. “That doesn't go with caramel at all.” The guy with glasses behind her (Will should really know his name by now) made a face of disgust, but Nico shrugged them all off.
“I worked hard for this,” said Nico. “How much?” Will guided the group to the cash register where he tallied up the order.
“You know,” Will said, “this has been the most eventful evening of my week.”
The guy with glasses nodded. “Really?”
“Yeah! It’s not everyday people come in asking about the dairy content of our ice cream.” As Will gave him his change, Nico smiled slightly to himself. Then he opened the cup and used the wide straw as a spoon to eat the milkshake. This, apparently, is an outrageous crime, according to the expressions of the group.
Reyna was the first to cringe. “Why didn’t you get ice cream if you’re going to eat it like that?”
That caused Nico to flip around to her a second time, this time with an open milkshake in hand. “I’m sorry, Reyna, I didn’t know that you just won a singing competition. I didn’t know that you had worked for that competition for months, Reyna. You should have told me, Reyna.”
“This is atrocious.” Then, to Will, “I’m so sorry you have to deal with him.”
Will laughed. “I’d rather deal with you guys instead of the usual customers, honestly.”
The outrage of the group died down. Nico used this moment to grab a spoon for his milkshake. The black girl with the afro looked at Will with concern. “I’m sorry. I hope things go a bit smoother for you for the rest of the summer.”
Will blinked. No one in this shop had ever treated him with such humanity before- not even the time during his first week when he slipped on a spilled ice cream cone in front of a group of soccer kids (it’s always the soccer kids) and broke his elbow. (His elbow is now healed, but no thanks to his manager.) “Thank you,” he answered her. “Only two more weeks to go.”
“Then you go to school, right?”
“Yeah, I go to Yancy.”
“Shut up,” said the guy with glasses. “We go to Yancy. That’s amazing! I’m Jason, by the way.”
Finally, he gets a name. Will smiles. “Yeah, that’s so cool. I’m Will.”
“Hi Will!” says the black girl. “I’m Hazel.”
Nico and Reyna introduce themselves as well, allowing Will to further save this memory: one of the most disturbing yet most rewarding moments of his summer. “Maybe we’ll see each other around?” says Will. “I’ll be a junior.”
“Oh, me too!” says Jason. “This is crazy.” He turns to Reyna, who nods her head.
“I’m a junior also,” she says.
At that moment, Will takes a breath of fresh air inside the poorly lit ice cream shop. Did he just make his first friends in a town he’s lived in for four months? “What about you guys?” he says to Nico and Hazel, while trying to contain his embarrassing excitement.
Nico and Hazel introduce themselves as a sophomore and a freshman respectively. Hazel seems to grow off Will’s energy, while Nico only cares about his milkshake. (He picks off the caramel-covered sour worms and drops them onto his tongue. Will will not elaborate on his opinion.)
“Maybe we’ll see you in school!” says Hazel, now on her toes. Maybe it’s her freshman energy, but Will can’t help but grin back. Even Nico seems to be hiding a smile behind his milkshake. “Okay, I don’t want to keep you, but I’ll look out for you!” Hazel waves as she grabs Nico’s hand. Will can already tell that they’re inseparable, even after fifteen minutes.
The rest of the group says their goodbyes, and suddenly Will was more excited about leaving this job than ever before.
Will didn’t know how much hatred he had for the ice cream shop until he closed up on his last day.
Finally, his hands won’t be sticky all day. Finally, he can wear something other than a pink polo shirt. Finally, he could walk through the freezer section of his local grocery store and not want to tear his hair out.
But then he started his first day of junior year at Yancy High School. Will still doesn’t want to be hateful- those days are behind him- and this emotion isn’t essentially hate , it’s just a strong sense of wrongness.
He came to this town four months ago, meaning his sophomore year at Yancy consisted of only two months before summer break. Since he spent the other two months at the ice cream shop, he didn’t have much time to branch out his social horizons. But now he’s back, backpack slung over one shoulder, pink polo shirt nowhere in sight. And Nico and his group are in a similar position: nowhere in sight.
But Will will survive. He’ll be okay. He doesn’t hold on to hatred. Besides, the school isn’t that big- he can find one of them eventually. (If they recognize him and want him around, that is.) Until then, Will walks the halls alone.
He makes it through his first class: AP US History. Humanities were never his strong suit, but he’s not worried about passing. He’s worried about all the cliques that take up the desks. When he passes by, they either purposefully turn away or stare at him head on, and Will can’t figure out what’s worse.
By lunch, Will has been shunned and/or examined by four classes worth of cliques. It’s not that it’s bothering him, he just wished he had a group to stand with, that’s all. A group to share pencils with during class, maybe. A group to get ice cream with and yell over the one who put sour worms on their caramel milkshake. (Okay, maybe not the ice cream part. Will can go without ice cream for a while.)
He has gym last period. After a full day of academics and loneliness, it’s a welcome escape. He’s not going to actually contribute to the track and field class he signed up for, not at all: he’s going to put in his earbuds and walk along the track every class until the weather gets too cold. Then he’ll do the same indoors. Rinse and repeat.
When he’s on his way to do just that- earbuds in hand, Spotify on his phone- when someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was so unexpected, he almost dropped his earbuds. What could someone want from Will Solace, the new kid who emerged in the middle of his high school career?
“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, really,” said the person. Will reestablished his grip on his earbuds before turning around and finding what he had been waiting to see.
“Hazel!” said Will a bit too loudly, causing him to clamp his mouth shut immediately after to not seem like an absolute fool.
Hazel grinned back, not noticing Will’s embarrassment. “Hey! It’s Will, right?”
“Yes, yes, it’s Will,” he responded, nodding a bit too much. It seemed like everything he did was a bit too much today. How can he turn himself down?
Hazel intervened his thoughts by saying, “Oh my goodness, it’s so good to see you again! I don’t have any classes with anyone I know, so, honestly, I’m so glad you’re here.”
Will blinked at her, registering what she just said. “Me neither. I’m new here, so I don’t know anyone either.” But you have your whole group, Will didn’t say, because he’s not hateful. He’s just lonely.
Hazel immediately brightened, “Really! Wow, I never would’ve guessed, you seem so natural here.” Will laughed at that. “No, seriously, I feel like everyone’s staring at me. Nico and I worked for thirty minutes on this outfit last night, can you believe that? Gosh, it’s so nerve wracking.” Her outfit did look meticulously planned, with the pastels and various jewelry.
“You look great though! I promise you, no one is staring at you.”
Hazel sighed with relief. “Thank you, Will.”
“And if they are, it’s because they’re amazed. Really, you and Nico did such a good job.”
“Oh, thank you, Will.” She would have continued speaking if it wasn’t for the gym teacher calling attendance.
The class went by smoothly, and Will appreciated that. For the first time all day- and maybe even in four months- Will felt like he could communicate with someone face to face. He had friends back home, but they were hundreds of miles away now. But he had Hazel in final period track and field class, so he’ll be okay. By the end of class, Hazel had proclaimed herself to be Will’s friend.
“I really need one here,” she explained. There was a certain fright to her face that she masked pretty well, but it still resonated with Will.
“Me, too.”
As they were walking through the doors of the gym, Hazel popped up with an idea. “Hey, do you have Instagram? We should follow each other! Please?”
Will realized at this moment that he’d do anything for this freshman he met twice in two weeks. “Of course,” he smiled as he pulled out his phone. Within seconds, a certain xoxo.hazel was following him, and the owner of the account was pulling him into a hug.
“I promised Nico I’d meet him somewhere, but I’ll see you here tomorrow, Will!”
“I’ll be here,” he answered before watching Hazel give him a grin and walk down the opposite end of the hallway.
And, just as quickly as she came, Hazel was gone. But she will be here tomorrow. Will would have to trust that. So he took his thirty minute walk home with his earbuds in alone, with the goal of making some extremely greasy popcorn before settling into some Netflix movie he planned to watch over the summer but couldn’t because of the shop. (There was a long list.)
But when the bag of popcorn was in the microwave and he was swiping through his phone notifications, he saw the one from Instagram.
xoxo.hazel has requested to follow you.
Will accepted. And, because he’s not immune to curiosity, he decided to scroll through Hazel’s page.
There were ten posts- ten more than on his own account, but still not a lot. Each picture seemed to be of her and her friends. Just as often as Hazel’s own face showed up in the pictures, there was another: Nico.
And, thankfully, he was tagged in each of his appearances.
Among not being hateful, Will really isn’t a snoop. But if bait is dangled in front of his face, what does he have to lose by taking a bite? So he clicks on the tag to see nico.di.angelo and finds a private account.
Serves Will right.
No, he is not going to request to follow. He met the guy once! But, upon closer inspection, the YouTube link in Nico’s bio is public. And, really, is Will expected not to click?
And so he clicks.
Will is led to a simple YouTube account under the name of Nico di Angelo. There’s no banner, so Will’s eye is immediately drawn to the list of videos on the account: a wide array of covers, ranging from classical music to jazz to musical theatre (Will really didn’t expect to see that last one, but he didn’t expect to be here at all, either). There’s even a vlog thrown into the mix.
The most recent video is from two weeks ago. In the thumbnail, Nico looks exactly like he did in the ice cream shop, except more put together. Now, Will could click this video, then consequently stalk Nico’s entire YouTube page with the logic of well, it is public. But then his Netflix list would remain untouched.
Will decides to forgo the Netflix list.
The video opens with Nico on a stage next to nothing but a grand piano, a pianist, and a microphone. There’s a subtitle with the name of a song Will doesn’t recognize, but soon enough the pianist starts to play and the camera zooms in on Nico.
And then Nico starts to sing.
And then Nico sings.
And then Will realizes that he had to have known that Nico could sing- there was even a trophy at the ice cream shop- but never to this extent. Actually, he never knew anyone could sing to this extent. And this extent is beautiful.
Nico sings with a quality that Will can only describe as passion: one part because Will doesn’t know how to talk about music that well, second part because every note that comes out of Nico comes from somewhere deep inside of him, so when it comes out, it shakes with infectious energy. That could also be the vibrato, because damn is there vibrato, but Will doesn’t care. He might not care about anything anymore, because Nico is singing.
Just as he predicted, Will clicks on the next video from about a month ago: another singing video, but this time Nico’s at the piano in a small practice room. Just the same, Nico’s voice is breathtaking. Here, he sings an Adele song, so he’s using both a mix of high vocals and belting. (Will knows what belting is! Nico should be proud of that.) Even though this style is completely different from the last video, Will is still left breathless.
Then Will clicks on the next video, then the next, then the next. Eventually, his popcorn goes cold in the bowl but there’s no stopping the scroll. So far, Will’s favorite video is the one titled i try to sing every part of One Day More (emotional). This is because of the way Nico laughs at the end, the way he stands triumphant after belting the last notes, the way he conducts himself with his hands the whole way through. Will can’t tell which is more mesmerizing: hearing Nico sing, or watching Nico let everything go.
After an hour, Will has reached the end of the YouTube channel. Turns out Nico had only begun posting about a year ago, which means Will had just watched a year’s worth of Nico’s singing progression. And now, even though Nico’s voice had entered his life less than two hours ago, Will didn’t know how he could go on without it.
How could he work on his Netflix list now! Or even focus on all his AP homework! But, no, he can’t do that, because now he’ll be focusing on Nico for the rest of today. And maybe even some of tomorrow. And it can’t hurt to have one of Nico’s songs playing in the background as he cleans his room, right?
So maybe Will has a situation. Not a problem- there’s still a ways to go before Will categorizes it as a problem. For now, this is Will’s situation: Nico has a really nice voice. A voice no one else Will has ever met could replicate. And Will just happens to really like hearing it. Nico never has to know. This will never escalate.
To prove that, Will subscribes to Nico’s channel. Good thing Will’s YouTube username is just solace , so Nico can’t trace it back. Even if Will and Nico never meet again, Will will be okay with that, because he just found his new favorite YouTuber.