Chapter Text
‘The hell?’
You hear weird noises coming from the bottom of your car. You’re in the middle of nowhere on the highway from Henderson, Nevada to LA. You can’t break down now… You feel your car bumping around, so you decide to pull over.
You step out the car. The blazing California sun makes no effort to hide its bold heat. You squat to the ground, examining the tire on the front drivers side. That’s where the noise was coming from. To your dismay, you behold this giant ass nail lodged into the tire. It’s flatter than a board. You sigh, standing up and feeling the anxiety pour into you.
‘Shit. How am I supposed to fix this?’ you think to yourself. You open your car door and reach for your phone. You shakily open YouTube and type in the search bar, “how to change tire”.
But the only think that presents itself on your screen is a white circle, spinning and spinning and spinning.
“There’s no fucking way this is happening to me,” you grunt.
You throw your phone back into the car and pull the lever that opens your trunk, jogging to the back to grab the spare tire, the ‘car lift thingy,’ and the ‘addition symbol thing.’
“I don’t know the name of this shit,” you pout. “How am I supposed to know how to change a tire?”
You stare at the tools in your hands hopelessly. You sink to the floor, tears welling up in your eyes.
You sit there for a god while. You attempt a few times to try and take out the little bolts in the rims, but you just can’t.
40 minutes go by. Cars pass and you envy the fact their tires don’t have nails in them. Just when you think you’re about ready to trudge on with a popped tire, a silver car pulls over just a few yards in front of you. You lift your head, figuring the driver was planning on helping you.
——
Out steps this young looking white guy. He’s got brown hair swept to the side and a very defined brow bone. You squint your eyes, a strong feeling emerging in your chest.
‘Is that fucking Jerma?’
You stand up, dusting your ass and knees off because you had just been sitting in dirt for 40 minutes.
“Hey there, are you alright?” the man asks. His voice is so familiar. It’s definitely Jerma.
“I’m-um-yeah. Honestly, no,” you chuckle. “I got a flat tire and have no idea how to change it.” You stare frustratedly at the tools on the ground. Then look up at Jerma.
“I have all the tools- just not.. I don’t know how to change it.”
Jerma steps closer to you, figuring out the situation. He has no idea you know who he is. He’s wearing a friendly smile when he says,
“Oh, I know how to change a tire! Here, let me help you out.”
“God- really? That’s so amazing actually. Thank you! You’re such a life saver you have no idea-“
“Yeah, no! It’s no problem at all! I saw you sitting by your car and I just had to check that you were alright. It sucks to be stranded out here.”
You nod your head. “Sure does suck.” Your stomach twists. This is your chance to try and verify his identity.
“So, I ought to know the name of my savior right?” you laugh. “What’s your name?”
He bends down to the ground, getting straight to work on your car. His shoulder muscles bulge through his tight shirt as he reaches for the ‘addition symbol thing.’ He looks up at you with that all-too-familiar smile. That dastardly charming smile.
“I’m Jeremy. And I’m no savior, really. I’m doing what anybody else would do.”
‘THIS IS FUCKING JERMA985’ you thought in a panic.
You roll your eyes, retorting, “If by ‘anybody else’ you mean 40 minutes worth of cars passing by…”
He scoffs, looking back at the tire. His hands move with such confidence. He knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s both reassuring and attractive.
“40 Minutes? That’s ridiculous, I’m sorry.”
You shrug. You have such bad luck, people telling you they’re sorry for you doesn’t feel sincere anymore. “It’s whatever. At least now the great Jeremy is here to save lil ol’ me!”
“Oh, I’m y/n by the way.”
He nods, not breaking eye contact with his work.
“You’re buttering me up.”
You look off into the distance. You try to figure out how to word “I know exactly who you are.” without sounding like a crazy stalker.
“Sooo…” you gulp. “You wouldn’t happen to be super popular twitch streamer named Jerma985, would you?” You stare down at him, wanting to read his reaction.
He stops what he’s doing to look up at you. His expression is… something like embarrassment.
“Oh, you’re a fan?” He replies.
You nod. “I appreciate the work you put into your streams. I’m an artist too. Well, it’s more visual art. But I can see the effort that goes into your stuff. It’s performance art.”
He smiles, looking more relaxed. He goes back to the tire. You see sweat starting to bead down his forehead.
“I just try to make the best thing possible. Glad to hear people are enjoying it.”
You feel as though this is his generic response. You want to show him your sincerity. So you decide to sit down next to him, and really hammer in that you do appreciate his work.
“No, Jeremy, I really mean it. You’re genuinely so creative, I admire your… Devotion.”
He shakes his head, not knowing how to take the compliment. “You’re too sweet.”
The two of you chat for some time. About 25 minutes as Jeremy goes to town fixing the tire. At some point, he dropped his tools to properly explain the story he was telling you. You never realized until now just how much he expressed his words through his facial expressions. He was a very expressive man. Also way more attractive in person. ‘That camera does not do you enough justice,’ you think.
Before long he is finished, and you’re both playing around with each other like you’re close friends. Your senses of humor flow together quite nicely and allow for conversations to seamlessly go on and on. But not once did you mention things you already knew about him. You asked him questions, and allowed him to tell you about himself on his own.
You were both headed to Twitch Con, leaving a few days early just to hang out. Apparently, Jeremy’s previous relationship ended just weeks before. He needed some vacation time to get his mind off it. Your conversation seemed more person to person rather than fan to celebrity.
“Well, that about does it.” he sighs. “Hey, look, y/n. Now I’m not saying you have to go with me, but,” Jeremy pulls out his phone. “I have two tickets to a Gorillaz concert. My number 2 obviously isn’t going with me, so… I got this free ticket. I didn’t feel like selling it, so I held onto it I guess. Do you like Gorillaz?”
Your eyes light up, and you look at him with the hugest smile.
“No way!” you exclaim. “YES I’LL TAKE THE TICKET!!!”
He smiles, delighted at your response. But his happy expression faces. “There’s no service out here, I can’t send it to you.”
“Erm…. Hey, I’ll see you at Twitch Con! Just send it then!”
He nods. “Smart thinking!” He turns to face his car, then looks back at you. You get this strange feeling he doesn’t want to leave.
“I’ll see you then,” he says with a departing wave. “Drive safe! If you get into an accident this ticket will go to waste.”
You giggle.
Huh?
‘That was the most school girl-iest giggle ever. The fuck?’ you think.
“Bye, Jeremy! And thank you again, seriously!” you call out as he is already walking back to his car.
And by god, this man shoots you a wink.
Your heart drops. You already had a crush on this silly little streamer. From behind the screen you always blushed when he said something cute. You spammed “HANDSOME STREAMER” every single time he turned on his facecam. And he just shot you a wink?
“I’m thinking way too much into it…” You mutter as you watch his car drive away. But still, you can’t help but wonder.
Does he think you’re cute too?