Chapter Text
Rose sat across from you on your bed, her laptop balanced precariously on the tops of her knees. The light form the screen reflected on her eyes, but not enough to show you what she was even doing. She was typing furiously, which made you think she was working on her book, but she wouldn’t let you in on the details; why it had to be your house she was doing it in was a whole mystery in itself that really had no business being solved, no matter how much you wanted it to be. The laptop wobbled, and you were sure it was going to fall, but by some strange black magic force it managed to stay perfectly in-place on her legs. Even when she let go of the laptop completely to fix her hair, it still stayed in place! It was really quite marvelous. You were quite distracted.
It was a Saturday evening, probably around 7 or 8. You were only guessing this of course – Rose had come around earlier in the afternoon, wanting to ‘have a friendly catch-up’, but since she’d arrived through the door, her laptop in tow and her black-rimmed eyes perfectly set on getting work done and not friendly chatter, she’d done nothing but sit occupied on your bed and type away on her computer, the entire body clothed in a knitted cozy. It was very well made, you think. The only time you remember her moving was when your dad called you both down for dinner. She made conversation, but not with you, so you just left it at that and let her continue being the aspiring author she wanted to be.
You were just really bored of sitting doing nothing; it was getting dark outside already! Look, streetlights!
“Roooooooooooose! Can we please do something interesting?” you whined, stretching flat out at her feet, you head hanging off the edge of the bed. She hadn’t moved, or reacted in the slightest, but spoke rather distractedly from behind the screen.
“I’m afraid that will have to wait, John. As it happens, I’m dealing with a very big project right now, and need utter silence to complete it. Another time.”
You blew out a long breath, your bangs wavering in the small breeze you created. You were getting a little dizzy from hanging upside down, but at least it was better than sitting like an elementary school child; legs crossed, your finger on your lips so you wouldn’t make a sound. Of course, you can’t stay quiet for more than a minute – your running commentary is what makes you fun to be around.
“But this is my house – why are you here anyway?” you muttered, whipping yourself upright again – your glasses also fell off of your face and to the floor, but you couldn’t be bothered diving down there again to retrieve them. You’ll get them when you remember. “I mean...well, you know what I mean! All you’ve done is type away on your laptop...”
“Ooh,” Rose interrupted you, peeking over the top of her screen to make eye contact. She had a strange smile on her face, and it was especially strange with the creepy gothic makeup she always wore. Not that it didn’t suit her, but right now she looked very mischievous and you can’t say you didn’t pee a little. She flicked her laptop around with a swift movement and showed you the screen; Twitter, open on a celebrity’s profile you’d rather not talk about any more than you have to. “Look who just broke up with his girlfriend.”
You don’t particularly care. Of course you don’t. Who would care about that? Not you! Why does Rose think you would...weird.
You squinted your eyes at her, mostly because you didn’t have your glasses and also because it was more than a little bit dark outside, and stood up to turn on the light. She grinned at you from her corner of the bed, taking your ignorance as something else, and offered up the laptop like a talisman.
“I think you should tweet him, can’t hurt to try, right?”
“Why would I tweet him? Try what?” You were feigning confusion, so you brushed the laptop out of the way, and dropped to the floor and hunted around for the long lost glasses you kind of needed to have to see. “I have no idea what...No!” you continued, your blush heavily hidden by your clever angling.
It was a nightmare being mostly blind and losing your glasses – it was like trying to find a skittle in a bucket of peanut M&M’s (if you could eat peanuts – that’s one prank you disapprove of). “If you’re trying to get at what I think you’re getting at....stop getting there!” You scoped around the floor, still speaking and complaining, picking up lint and other strange items you couldn’t identify until finally, yep those are definitely your glasses, “I don’t even know who he is.”
Rose was speaking when you resurfaced with a triumphant smile on your face and your glasses clutched in your fingers – but it only took you 2 seconds to register that she had your phone in your face and the flash had gone off, dazing you into blindness again. What the hell was she playing at! Rose!
“Rose, what the fuck! I’ve gone blind!” You screeched, stumbling back onto your bed, huffing like an old dog and slouching against the wall. “I am forever unable to see where you’re going with this.”
“Oh, please,” Rose said, fiddling with your phone again, “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. In fact, I have a great number of saved pesterlogs handy if the memory of your little confession is still foggy? I do love discussion, John. I am happy to meddle and help when I can. That is a guarantee from me to you.”
Nonononononono those pesterlogs were private for a reason! You have...admitted some things to Rose in those, some things that you don’t really feel like bringing up again. You vaguely remember mentioning a certain celebrity crush, but SURELY that isn’t what Rose is talking about...nope. It’s just a coincidence. A silly, badly timed coincidence. Rose handed you back your phone, a triumphant and feral smile on her face. For a 5"5 girl who writes stories about wizards, she really can be a terrifying force of nature. What has she done now?
You think you know, but you look at your phone anyway, holding Rose’s gaze for as long as you can. Twitter was open. Oh God. You swallowed the vomit rising in your throat and read the screen – or rather, the tweet Rose had sent on your account. And – oh, shit no! Did she post a selfie? You will be having serious words. Serious, business-like words. You didn’t read the caption she’d put – you didn’t even notice it was there.
...It wasn’t a bad selfie. And, well, it wasn’t a selfie. It was the picture she took when you found your glasses. Your eyes were half closed, but you were smiling, so it just looked like your eyes were crinkled with delight. But still! You don’t want your face on the internet! It’s the internet! Your dad had always warned you to be careful...even having a twitter was risky in your opinion. You could feel Rose watching what you would do next. You feel really strange about this. Giddy, but nervous, and also a little thankful that she had tweeted him. But obviously you know how being a celebrity works – he had millions of followers on twitter, and those millions of followers tweeted him back all the time! Obviously, and this was a big obviously, he would never tweet you back. You tried not to let that realization show on your face, but you checked the replies on your tweet anyway.
And.
Oh.
Oh. Shit.
“Rose. What exactly did you tweet.” You deadpanned, refusing to look her in the eye. You feel like maybe she’d ripped out your soul and left you as a husk of your former self; the retweet you’d gotten was kind of crazy, and kind of unbelievable to the point you were questioning whether or not this was a hidden camera show, or if you were simply having a dream/nightmare. Probably a hidden camera show nightmare, you have the worst luck.
“I asked him out on a date, did he reply?” She put aside her laptop, genuine interest in her voice. Even Rose was disbelieving of you ever receiving a reply from someone like him, and you checked the username multiple times to make sure it wasn’t a hoax account or simply someone with a similar name. But no. It was definitely him. “John. What did he say?”
“He...” You weren’t able to read the tweet aloud, but it sure did read something along the lines of a ‘sure, why not’. You turned the phone around so Rose could see, and she took it out of your limp hands wordlessly. You kind of wanted to squeal and run around the room in a crazed fit of ‘Oh my God! My celebrity senpai noticed me!’, but your legs were dead and your brain may well have been too if Rose hadn’t spoken to you again.
“You have a private message...I’m not one to pry, John, but I can read it aloud for you if you’re feeling too shaken up?” She’d already opened the message anyway, but you nodded yes. Fuck if you were going to read it yourself. You’d rather fade into the void and never come out. (If he was serious, and you did eventually start dating – unlikely, but a boy can dream - you’d also have to ‘come out’ anyway! Oh no, this is too much. Where’s the alcohol. Where’s your hammer. It might be a good time to pass out.)
“Oh...okay.” She cleared her throat, unable to hide even the smallest ounce of wonder from her voice. Her eyes too, were full of confusion and bewilderment – you can’t quite imagine how you look right now if even Rose is showing signs of disbelief.
“’Yo’,” she started, then frowned. The word sounded really strange coming from Rose’s mouth...and also, her ‘dude’ voice was kind of odd. “’Saw your tweet, dude. Thought I’d hyu’ – I assume that’s supposed to mean ‘hit you up’, though I can’t be sure - ‘You were serious about that right?’”
Without another word, she handed you your phone back, screen up. How the fuck were you supposed to reply to that? You didn’t even tweet it!
“I...” You looked to Rose, who was already shaking her head before you made eye contact. “Was I serious? Were you serious? Rose I don’t know how to respond at all, please help!”
She patted her hair, making ‘hm’ noises and tapping her chin. It was a little annoying, but she was smart. Maybe this was how she thought. Who knows. Eventually, she stopped being weird and took your phone again, reading over the message god knows how many times, “I say tell him you are interested. It can’t hurt, and...he seems genuinely interested.” Your phone pinged. “’s’cool if you’re not, but you’re hella cute and i-d-k it’d be awesome if you replied’. I think you should reply. If anything, he seems a little desperate to receive reciprocation.”
Okay. You can reply. You can do that.
“Well, I suppose I’ll leave you to deal with it, I don’t want to meddle too much – while it is my specialty, I have boundaries,” she lifted her laptop again, and stood up, making to leave the room. Why is she leaving! “Don’t hesitate to find me, John. I love to help, after-all.”
“Rose, come back!” You silently scream inside your head and lift the pillow to your face, hearing the door click behind her on the way out. You breathe in, inhaling the pillow-y smell and regulating your breathing just a little so that you can at least have coherent thoughts. How the living fuck do you even begin to deal with this – you don’t get into relationships! You don’t do anything! You have no experience, and no one to guide you. For an 18 year old, you sure do have an exciting social life. Good thing you have friends who are also experienced in having active social lives, right?
“Oooo-kay. You got this, Egbert. This isn’t hard! Just...” Breathe in. “...Reply. Just reply. Not hard.” Breathe out.
You formed out a sentence on the keyboard, before realizing the thing wasn’t even typing. God, you hate typing on phones – you tapped the white message box a little too furiously. Okay, this time, it was typing. This time, you wouldn’t delete anything, you were just going to reply with whatever came to your – no! Stupid idea! You have to think this through. What did he say last? (He said you were cute, what the fuck is happening.)
@dstrider: yo saw your tweet dude
@dstrider: thought id hyu
@dstrider: you WERE serious about that right
@dstrider: s cool if youre not but
@dstrider: youre hella cute and idk
@dstrider: itd be awesome if you replied
You think you have a good one.
@ghostyTrickster: yeah i was serious! :B
@ghostyTrickster: but if you’re only kidding then, no i definitely was not serious.
@ghostyTrickster: consider it a joke. a prank. haha!
Ah, shit.
@dstrider: oh good god youre adorable
@dstrider: listen man i was totally fuckin serious up there
@dstrider: so serious im wearing a suit, buttoned up all the way and tucked into my crisp black slacks
@ghostyTrickster: oh! thats...great!
@dstrider: my tie isnt even whacky as hell like those funky weird dads in 90’s sitcoms
@dstrider: got my briefcase that has serious as shit papers in it and not donuts
@dstrider: like bills
@dstrider: so whats your answer
@dstrider: interested??
Are you? You think yes. Live for the moment, John, go get ‘em. (Oh God you peed a little.) And he’s...a total dork?
@ghostyTrickster: yeah! totally! i can...
@ghostyTrickster: give you my number?
@dstrider: eh I dont really use my phone tbh
@ghostyTrickster: oh. i see.
@dstrider: pesterchum?
@dstrider: im at turntechGodhead hmu for a good time babe
@dstrider: ghostyTrickster right
@ghostyTrickster: no, its uh...ectoBiologist
@ghostyTrickster: ghostyTrickster was taken :(
@dstrider: yeah so was dstrider the bastards
@dstrider: anyway I gotta run you know how being famous is
@dstrider: later
@ghostyTrickster: uh not really. but...yeah, later!
What the ever-loving fuck just happened to your life. You just had a fucking conversation. With Dave Motherfucking Strider. The famous guy. The celebrity. You lay down on your bed, the pillow on your head. And you screamed. Pretty loud if it wasn’t for the pillow blocking most of it, but you’re pretty sure your dad probably heard it.
“Rooooooooooooose!”