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Chapter Text

Virgil was struggling.
He was trying and failing to write his next hit song, but he had some sort of songwriting writers block. It was much harder being famous than he'd thought. If only he could go back to his youtube days, where he first started it all... but now he was a bit of a star. And with stardom came deadlines and tour dates, concerts and his manager booking things for him with little to no heads up. His stage name "Anxiety" showing up on billboards and Marquees in bright lights. It wasn't his manager's fault, and he was doing the best he could, but Virgil needed a break. He wanted to relax for a couple days but no, he was supposed to have a new song released in two weeks. 
And he'd barely started writing it.
He had settled himself and his laptop in a booth in a cozy local coffee shop, donned in a hoodie and jeans and no makeup, unlike the flashy, bright purple outfits he wore during his stage appearances. Still, there was a small group of employees whispering and staring from the corner. Virgil sighed and tugged his hood down. He needed a place with no distractions, and he wanted his suffering to at least be tolerable, so why not choose a place with a relaxing atmosphere and strong coffee? At least, it was relaxing, until...
"Excuse me?"
Virgil looked up, careful to keep his hood casting a shadow over his face. "What's up?" Then he saw the guy who had spoken to him. This dude was really attractive, and it was times like this that Virgil wished he wasn't famous, so he could date someone without them having ulterior motives. Although this guy probably just wanted an autograph.
"Could I sit here? There aren't any other seats left, and it's kinda raining outside, and I forgot my umbrella today, of all days."
"Um..."
The guy seemed to take Virgil's hesitation negatively. "I promise I won't bother you. I can see you're working, and I respect that. Just pretend I'm not even here."
Virgil snorted. This dude has to be joking. "Sure, you can sit." Did he really not realize who Virgil was? 
The guy sat, smiling. "Thanks."
And, true to his word, the dude sat silently while Virgil typed and backspace and sighed and felt like banging his head on the table. As much of an agonizing process as this was, at least he was getting something done. But as Virgil let out what must've been his fourteenth heavy sigh, the guy finally spoke up again.
"Hey dude, you good?"
Virgil dragged a hand down his face. "No."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm... um..." 
If he told this guy he was writing a song, he could realize his identity. But he had dealt with fans and haters before, and he wasn't getting anything done anyways, he might as well just get this over with and leave, and tell his manager to postpone the song release date.
"I'm writing. A song."
"Woah, cool. I've always wanted to do that. I'm a writer too, and I love music, but I wouldn't know what to write a song about."
That's it? "I usually write about my experiences I guess. My feelings." Oh my God, shut up. Stop talking, he's going to know.
"Neat. Hey, do you need some help with your song? I could make suggestions, maybe that would help?"
It probably would.
"I mean, it usually helps me when I get someone else's opinion."
That's true.
"But only if you want. I wouldn't want to intrude."
What did Virgil have to lose?
"Knock yourself out," Virgil spun the laptop around.
The dude looked over what Virgil had so far. He hummed thoughtfully. 
"Wow, you're really good at this."
"Uh, thanks."
"But I'd take this verse and replace it with... perhaps..." He typed for a second, before turning the laptop back, "this?"
Virgil scanned over the new words. They flowed, they stood out. They were pretty much exactly what he'd been going for.
"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, that's... that's perfect. Thank you."
"Is it really? I mean, I thought it might fit nicely. And the rest of it looks great. I'd love to hear it when you're finished."
"Oh. Yeah." Virgil said, as if his brand-new shiny chart-topper wouldn't be on the radio as soon as the media caught wind of it. 
"Oh, it looks like the rain has died down."
Virgil turned. It had.
"I should probably get going, huh?" The guy stood from his seat across from Virgil. "I won't bother you anymore. Good luck with your song, it was nice to meet you!"
"Yeah, um... nice to meet you. Thanks for all your help."
The guy turned around at the door. He smiled. 
"Anytime."
And then he was gone.

Chapter Text

The next day, Virgil showed up at the same cafe, choosing to settle in the same seat, for the sole purpose of seeing that dude again. It was probably a hopeless venture, but he couldn't shake the thought of the one guy who treated him like an actual person.
He had placed his laptop in front of him once again, and he was making the final touches to the lyrics. His plan was to finish them up before adding dramatic crescendos and striking chords, along with his own personal touches. But he'd do that later, alone, in his room with his guitar.
He hummed to the simple tune that the lyrics were laid out on, tapping his pencil. Maybe I can sort out the percussion here too...
The bell in front of the door chimed. Virgil ignored it. 
Until he saw him.
The guy from the day before headed to the counter to order a drink. Virgil watched him out of the corner of his eye. The dude pulled out his phone as he waited, scrolling, until he was handed a cup. He thanked the worker before scanning the room for a place to sit.
His gaze froze in place as his eyes almost swept over Virgil. Slowly, a grin began to spread across his features. He started towards Virgil, but stopped in his tracks as he seemed to decide whether or not to continue in his direction, or if he was too busy working. 
It was actually pretty considerate of him.
Virgil decided to help the poor guy out, by nonchalantly moving his eyes from his computer, stretching as he looked around the room, inevitably locking eyes with the guy. 
Virgil gave him a small smile and a wave.
The dude's smile practically lit up the room after that as he cheerfully headed towards the booth they had shared.
"Hey!" He slid into the seat across from Virgil.
Virgil suppressed the infectious grin from spreading across his face. "Hey."
"You still writing that song?" 
"Yup."
"Anything I could help with?"
"Hm. Well, would you like to read over the finished lyrics?"
The guy's eyes lit up. "Can I?" 
Virgil chuckled. "Go ahead."
The dude excitedly took the laptop and read over the progress.
"Wow, it came together so well! You really are great at this, uh... I never got your name."
Virgil debated telling the guy, but he rarely gave his actual name to the media anyways. They only knew him as Anxiety, excepting a select few.
"It's... Virgil."
"Virgil," the guy tried out the name. "Like Virgilius?"
Virgil nodded.
"Hm. You know, you just keep getting more interesting, you know that?"
Virgil flushed lightly. "I do?"
"Yeah. I'm Roman Prince, by the way."
"Nice to meet you." 
"Do you, uh..." Roman looked to the side, "do you come here often?"
Was he flirting? Was this guy FLIRTING with Virgil?
He was, in fact, flirting, albeit shyly.
"No, I... yesterday was my first time here."
"Well, then I'm glad I showed up at the right time. How lucky is that?"
Virgil was panicking internally. Should he flirt back? Was it worth it? What should he say?
"Very lucky," he managed. He dared a glance up at Roman's face. 
He should not have done that.
Roman was smiling at him softly. And oh fuck.
He might have just stolen Virgil's heart.
But not just in the romantic sense, as Virgil now found it difficult to breathe. 
"So," Roman cleared his throat. "Will you be here tomorrow?"
Virgil nodded numbly, unaware of the promise he just made, as Roman's dazzling smile appeared again. 
"Cool. So, uh... around the same time? Is eleven good?"
"Yeah. Sure."
"Great." Roman breathed. "So, uh, I have to go to work right now, but see you tomorrow?"
In his daze, Virgil allowed a small smile to grace his face. "Absolutely."
Roman turned pink. "Yeah, sounds good, um..." he started walking backwards, tripping on a chair as he started for the door. "Yeah, see you then, bye!"
As Roman stumbled out the door, Virgil stared after him. 
This man was kryptonite and caffeine at once, and the rockstar had been starstruck.
Tomorrow was going to be interesting.

Chapter Text

After Roman left, Virgil had been left sitting, dazed, at that booth in the coffee shop. Even after he snapped out of it, he couldn't focus on his song. He closed the laptop and called it a day.
But the next day, Saturday, was his unofficial date with Roman. It was a date, right? Or was Virgil overthinking this? 
Whatever it was, Virgil had on a slightly better-looking outfit as he arrived at the café. He was early, and he hadn't brought his laptop this time. He walked over and sat at a regular table this time, instead of the booth. Virgil gazed out the window, watching people pass.
What would it be like to do that? To be free, without press in my face, or fans? To still have my career that I love, but I'd actually get a break on my days off?
The bell above the door chimed, and Virgil looked up, expecting to see Roman. 
But it was just another customer. A stranger.
He looked back down at the phone in his hands. It wasn't even eleven.
It's fine.
He watched the door and the clock.
10:58. Nothing.
11:01. Nobody.
11:06. Not Roman.
11:12. He's not here.
Maybe he wouldn't even come. Maybe he was playing with Virgil. Maybe he had been joking. He probably hated Virgil. He thought Virgil was annoying. He thinks he's an asshole. He thinks Virgil's an asshole and he's not showing up.
The bell at the door jingled. Roman was standing at the door, out of breath, wildly looking around before spotting Virgil.
"Hey!" He breathed, smoothing his hair and dragging a chair over to the table. "I'm so, so sorry I'm late. I got caught up in traffic, and I don't even know why there was this much traffic at eleven on a Saturday, but..." he took a breath, calming down. "I'm sorry. I hope you weren't waiting long."
"Not at all," Virgil lied. "I'm glad you could make it."
"Yeah... me too." Roman beamed, still catching his breath. 
Virgil smiled. "Should we order now?"
"That would be great."

"So," Roman said, taking a sip of his coffee, "what do you like to do? Besides write songs, of course."
Virgil thought for a moment. He didnt do much aside from write, practice, and perform. He liked fashion, but only for his concert outfits.
"I guess I like sketching and playing guitar? And I like reading, and watching Disney movies."
Roman's eyes lit up at that. "Disney?"
"Mhm."
"I was practically raised on Disney," Roman said eagerly. "I love all of the movies so much, which one's your favorite?"
"Black cauldron." 
Roman chuckled and Virgil smiled. "I definitely see that."
"What about you? Which one do you like?"
"Are you asking me to choose between all of my precious movies?!" Roman asked with a dramatic gasp, paired with a mock-offended hand to his chest.
Virgil snorted. "Fine then. What do you like doing?"
Roman tapped his finger, thinking. "Well, you already know I have a passion for Disney. I do like reading, though, and painting. They're not only relaxing, but it's sort of like escaping reality too. Maybe that's stupid."
"No. I don't think so." Virgil rested his head in his palm, elbow set on the table. "It makes sense. That's kind of how it feels to draw or sing? You just... don't think about real life. Like it doesn't even exist anymore. It's just you and your story."
"Yeah," Roman said with a strange look. "Exactly that."
There was a short break in the conversation, as Virgil took a drink of his coffee and Roman continued looking at him with that look.
"How about fun facts?" Virgil suggested.
Roman ooh-ed at that one. "I used to do theater religiously in high school. Teenage me was a grade-A theater nerd."
Virgil laughed at that. "You? A theater kid?"
"What's so funny?" Roman huffed. "I was a great actor. In fact, I'd probably do community theater if my job wasn't so..." he waved his hand around, searching for the words. "You know."
"Yeah. Mine is kind of harsh too." There were so many benefits to being a singer. People loved you, you got paid well, you were famous and had made it big in the world. That was hard to do. But once you got there, it was your whole life. Yeah, he only performed night concerts, and he got to travel, but having time for himself was scarce. He was either writing, or his manager was calling him, or he was getting dressed for a last-minute event, or something, but his time wasn't for him to spend freely. It's not like he could go out much anyways, though. People would see him, then post, then the media would be there and bam, paparazzi and an impromptu interview in his sweatpants. 
Virgil preferred to stay home because of his social anxiety anyways. But now that he was out, in public, with a guy he'd practically just met, on a date? Maybe it wasn't so bad.

After they swapped numbers, Virgil ended up walking Roman to his car. The rest of the date had gone smoothly, and once they'd said their goodbyes, Roman was off. Virgil had stood and stared after him for a few seconds, even once his car was gone. 
I think this guy's different.

Roman and Virgil kept meeting at the café after that, and soon they went on a real date. Virgil kept trying to write his new hit song, but he kept getting stuck. He could worry about that later though. He had plenty of time.
Right?

Chapter Text

Virgil was wrong.
He did not have plenty of time to figure out his song, much less figure out what to do with this guy.
Virgil's tour across the country started in one week. He'd spent the week prior running around with Roman, going on dates and whatnot. And he hadn't made any progress whatsoever on his song. 
What he had so far was fine. Good, even. But he couldn't finish it. All that was going on in his head was Roman. He was a distraction. And what was Virgil going to do about him when he went on tour? He didn't want to tell Roman about his stardom, but he couldn't ghost him. And even if Roman was fine with his fame, it's not like Virgil could drag him around the country with him. Roman had his own job, his own home, and his own life. 
So why couldn't Virgil accept that?
He really did like this guy though. He wanted to drag him around the country on his tour. He wanted Roman to know about him. He wanted to keep Roman close to him.
But how?

~~~

Virgil sat on his bed with his lyrics pulled up on his laptop and his guitar resting on his legs. He wasn't making any progress, but just having everything out and working brought him some peace of mind.
He hummed the song's tune, as if it might bring him some inspiration as to how he could finish it. However, everything he typed ended up backspaced and deleted, and his hum sometimes got off-course on accident, and he couldn't think right because all that was in his head was Roman, and deadlines, and Roman, and secrets, and Roman.
He kept trying and trying, but after two hours he started to understand that he wasn't getting anywhere with this song. 
Maybe he should call Roman. Roman might be able to help him with the lyrics, at least, and then all Virgil would have to do is figure out how his guitar should sound. But what if Roman found out? What if he thought it was annoying? He had a job, and it probably wore him out, so Virgil didn't want to bother him. 
Maybe he should call his manager. Ask to reschedule the tour, or ask to scrap the song and just slap another emo cover onto his set list. But that was a dick move, and he'd be letting down his fans. And he couldn't just reschedule or cancel the tour. Tons of people had already paid to see him with their hard-earned money in every state he was visiting.
Virgil laid back onto his bedsheets, staring up at the ceiling. What could he do?
He could try to clear his mind. That seemed like his best bet.
So, he sat back up. He closed the laptop and set it aside, reached for his guitar pick, and set his fingers on the strings. He struck a chord.
Maybe this would help. His guitar usually distracted him from his problems.
He continued strumming, first on one chord, then on to another one, slightly more minor. He found a beat, a rhythm. He tapped his foot to the music, and then came the words.
"I want to talk to you, tell you who I am. I want to tell you things, but would you understand?" 
He took his thoughts, and let them out.
"I just want you to know, that I'm still the same. I hope you look at me the same way, when you know my name.
"I feel like things are crashing down, and I can't think 'cause it's so loud, and you're always there as if you always were, and I need you now, oh what's the matter, with me? Why can't I breathe? Except when I'm with you, my thoughts come clearly too, I want to talk to you."
Virgil sighed and placed his pick back on his nightstand. Maybe he should just take a break for tonight. 

~~~

The next morning, Virgil woke up to a text from Roman. 
Princey: Good morning Virge :)
Princey: U free today?
Virgil smiled. Why not?
Sure
His phone dinged with the reply moments later.
Princey: Care to go out for the day?
Virgil was already starting to get ready.
I'd love to. 
He tied up his hair today, and threw on a t-shirt and black jeans. He did some makeup, just a little. He smudged a little black eyeshadow under his eyes, and did a small wing of eyeliner, but nothing too drastic. He put in some earrings and tied a hoodie around his waist and threw his wallet into a small, black, leather backpack, which he slung over one shoulder. He checked his phone one more time, to make sure he had the location right, then stuffed his phone in his pocket and headed out the door.
Princey: perfect!
Princey: meet me at the park near the café?

Roman checked his texts.
My chemically imbalanced romance<3: sounds great :)

Chapter Text

Virgil headed over to the park. It happened to be later than he thought, apparently he'd woken up right around noon. He had an earbud in with Paramore blasting, and he had just arrived outside the park when Roman started jogging over to him with his perfect and infectious grin.

"Hey, Virgil!"

Virgil gave in to Roman's expression this time and smiled back at him. "Hey, you."

"You look... amazing."

"You too."

Roman was sporting a white crop top with a red jacket draped over it. He had paired it with light blue jeans and red converse, which were painted with small golden crowns. 

Roman had also applied sharp eyeliner, and his inner corners were decorated with a dusting of gold eyeshadow. He looked stunning.

"Thank you," Roman turned pink. "Okay, so here's what I was thinking. We could go downtown, right? Check out the record store, and the bookstore, and that new one they opened. Then we'll get an early dinner. At a really nice place. After that, we'll catch a movie. There's a movie theater not too far from here that plays old Disney movies. When that's over, we'll grab some ice cream, maybe? And we can sit and watch the cars go by, and just talk. I'll have you home before it gets late."

Virgil stared at him.

"It was just an idea though, no pressure, and we can do other stuff if you-"

"No."

Roman looked at Virgil's face, and something fluttered in his chest. Virgil's eyes were full of happiness.

"No, that sounds great."

"Oh," said Roman, flustered and dumbfounded. "Okay. Cool."

"Let's go?" Offered Virgil. Roman nodded as Virgil took him by the hand. They started walking downtown.

The bell to the record store jingled as they entered. Virgil strolled in, gaping in awe at the huge, and I mean huge selection of vinyl discs. It was a wonder why he'd never been here before. 

It was a small, discreet shop tucked away somewhere downtown, squished between the tall buildings. 

"You like it?" Roman asked from behind him. "I've been here a couple times. I think it's relaxing. And they have a great selection."

"This is... wow. I love it."

Virgil wandered aimlessly through the aisles, Roman trailing behind him, fingers still laced through Virgil's. The more soft-spoken of the two seemed to be captivated by all of the vinyls and CDs, all the music you could ever want in one compact store.

Virgil promptly pinpointed the emo music section, which carried his lords and saviors, My Chemical Romance, Paramore, and Evanescence. 

He drew in a breath as he picked up old, limited-edition albums from years ago. He blew the dust off of them and gazed at them in all their emo glory.

"There's a record player over there, if you want to play one," Roman pitched.

Roman didnt have to say that twice. Virgil snatched up the record and dragged Roman towards the player. He set the record down and right as it started spinning, placed the needle down gently onto its ringed surface. The familiar sound of electric guitar and drums filled the small shop, and Virgil breathed it all in. This was a perfect moment. His type of music, the nice musty smell of the store, and the feeling of Roman's palm and fingers against his own. 

Roman spoke up. "So, this is your music taste, huh? I cant say I'm surprised." He chuckled. "It's not exactly what I'm used to, but I like it."

"Heh, thanks Princey."

"'Princey'?" Roman asked, amusedly. "Like my surname? That's a new one."

Virgil smirked. "Well, get used to it. And what exactly is your music taste, then?"

"Hm. Let's see." It was Roman's turn to lead Virgil through the aisles. He was searching for something specific, or so it seemed. 

He started digging through a box of old orchestral records, before pulling out a white cover, outlined and lettered with gold. He slipped the vinyl out of the cover, and headed over to the record player. He gently removed Virgil's choice of music, before placing his down and setting down the needle.

Suddenly, upbeat music began to play, except it was strange to hear it played by violins and cellos and clarinets and flutes. Woodwinds and brass and strings came together to make a song that wasn't all slow and boring, but instead upbeat, while still retaining all the feelings classic music tended to try and convey. 

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "I've never heard anything like this before."

Roman smiled. "I wouldn't guess otherwise."

"Shut up," Virgil smirked and lightly punched Roman's arm with his free hand. 

Roman dramatically feigned an injury, collapsing onto Virgil. "Agh, no, my only weakness! Dying!"

"Get up you drama queen, people are looking."

"What people?"

He had a point. There were two people checking out, but other than them and the cashier, there was nobody else in the store.

Roman got to his feet anyways and pouted. "You're no fun."

"And yet here we are, on a date you suggested, because you like me."

"You make a very compelling argument."

The customers finished checking out and left, and the cashier went back into the storage room. Roman took Virgil's other hand. Virgil glanced at their hands, then back up at Roman with a questioning look.

"Dance with me, Virgil?"

DANCE?!

The only dancing Virgil knew how to do was the head-banging, energetic, or sexual movements he did onstage to accompany his songs. He didn't know how to dance otherwise.

"I-I... uh..."

"Don't know how?" Roman finished Virgil's sentence for him.

He nodded.

"Don't worry. I'll teach you."

Virgil silently nodded again, before Roman pulled him in close, placing one hand on Virgil's lower back and holding their joined hands out to the side. Virgil nervously rested one hand on Roman's shoulder. Roman hummed in approval, and proceeded to sweep Virgil around the shop to the tune of the music. 

"I'll lead," he assured. 

So Virgil trusted him. He let Roman lead, but kept an eye on their feet to make sure he didn't step on Roman's. He let himself get swept around the store to the sound of instruments and his date's humming.

This was nice. No, it was better than that. This was magical. 

Virgil didn't want to lose Roman in a week. He couldn't. He wouldn't be able to stand it. Maybe he could ask Roman to wait for him? After all, he lived here. He was going to return after his tour. But he had to tell Roman about himself first. The part he'd been hiding. 

The part about being a famous rockstar.

That little detail.

Virgil made up his mind right there and then, that he would tell Roman today. He would tell him all about his fame, and his tour. 

But what if everything goes wrong?

...

I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

After the stores, where Virgil purchased a MCR record (even after Roman had tried and failed to pay for it), they made their way to dinner. Roman had found a nice restaurant -- a nice one, not a fancy one -- for them to eat at. It was casual enough so that they could wear the clothes thay had on, and not be looked at twice. They talked and laughed over dinner, which Roman also insisted on buying, but this time he won. 

Then they arrived at the movie theater, where Lady and the Tramp happened to be playing next. 

They sat in the dark theater with only a handful of other people. Roman had done a good job of scouting places good for Virgil's social anxiety, which he had only mentioned once, offhandedly in a conversation. A bucket of popcorn sat between them, and they opted to hold hands as soon as their fingers brushed.

Bella Notte started to play on the vast screen. Virgil glanced at Roman while the song played. It certainly was a beautiful night.

But Roman caught him looking. However, instead of making it awkward, he smiled. Softly, not like those bold grins of his. It was alluring instead of contagious, and Virgil found himself drawn to it. Before they knew it, their lips were pressed together, softly, gently. And then it was over. It was but a brief moment that felt like forever and no time at all.

"So, did you like the movie?" Roman asked afterwards, on the way to ice cream.

"Yeah, um... it was really nice." Virgil was blushing, and he turned his head so his bangs fell over his eyes, though they were failing to hide his face. However, the growing darkness helped hide the blood rushing to his cheeks.

Roman was blushing too. He cleared his throat. "Here we are." He gestured to the compact ice cream shop, and led Virgil into the building, still flushed.

"I'll take strawberry, please," Roman said. Then he turned to Virgil expectantly.

"I'll have cookies and cream, please."

They got their ice creams, Virgil paid, and they headed out the door.

Roman led Virgil (once again) towards a spot where they could sit and eat. They neared a perfectly placed bench, a memorial for someone's loved one. The two sat as cars whizzed past, contributing to the life and light of the city, even throughout the night. 

"So, you're a cookies and cream kind of guy?"

Virgil snickered. "Yeah. I guess so. And strawberry for you?"

"Mmhm. It's my favorite."

"I've actually never tried it. Is it really that good?"

Roman gasped one of his dramatic, theater-kid gasps. "You've got to be joking. You've never tried strawberry ice cream?"

Virgil shook his head.

"You need to have some. Here, you can try mine." 

Roman held out his cone. All of a sudden, Virgil felt shyer than he'd ever been during a show. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course! I need to know your opinion on this."

Virgil laughed a little. He looked at the cold, sweet dessert and leaned forward. Ever so carefully, he stuck out his tongue and licked the ice cream. The flavor coated his mouth.

"Oh wow... that's really good actually!"

At the lack of a response, he looked up at Roman, who couldn't look away fast enough. He had been staring at Virgil, and he had been too careless and got caught.

"Yeah, it's pretty tasty!" He spluttered. "That's why it's my favorite I guess. Cuz... it tastes good."

It went silent for a second, until Virgil started to giggle. Roman smiled and blushed in turn, which made Virgil laugh harder, which made Roman laugh. They became nothing more than two idiots with ice cream laughing on a bench downtown together, blushing and smiling.

When they had calmed down a bit, Roman spoke up. 

"You've got some ice cream on your face, Virge!" He chuckled a bit more, leaning forward and wiping it off with his thumb. It wasn't until it was too late that he saw the look on Virgil’s face.

Virgil was looking at Roman's lips, then his eyes, his face, his mouth again. He was still slightly smiling, and he was beautiful.

Before he even knew what was happening, Roman felt some sort of force pull him towards Virgil. They kissed again, softly, moving their lips against one another's. It was sweet, so sweet. Maybe it was because of the ice cream. Roman shifted and took Virgil’s face in his hand properly, tilting his head a bit more. Virgil sighed into the kiss, placing his hand on Roman's knee.

They were two idiots falling in love.

Chapter Text

Gradually, slowly, the kiss got deeper as the ice cream melted in their hands. It wasn't too long before Virgil got bold, lightly running his tongue across Roman's lips.

Roman pulled back and rejoined the kiss with his mouth parted. Virgil cautiously entered his tongue into Roman's mouth. He wasn’t sure what do do next. Thankfully, Roman took over as if he could read Virgil's anxious mind. He switched their roles, putting his tongue in Virgil's mouth instead, and promptly exploring.

"Mmh," Virgil hummed, pleased. 

The kiss was much more than sweet. It was delicious, and loving. This wasn't like the other guys that had ended up using Virgil. This was purely loving.

Virgil pulled back suddenly. He kept his hand on Roman's knee, but he leaned out of the kiss and out of reach.

"Roman, there's something we need to talk about," he murmured in between breaths.

Roman was slightly panting. He looked worried. "What is it? Did I do something?"

"No, no, you're perfectly fine, you did nothing wrong."

"Then what is it?"

Virgil closed his eyes. He couldn't bear looking Roman in the face. He was a coward.

"Roman, I'm sorry. I've been keeping something from you."

Roman's eyebrows furrowed. "You have?"

"Yes, but I'm going to come clean. You know how I've been writing that song?" 

Roman just looked more confused. "Yes?"

Virgil took a deep breath for courage. "That's because I'm a singer. I'm also known as the artist 'Anxiety,' and that song is supposed to be for my tour in one week."

There was no yelling, no sounds of betrayal, no nothing, so Virgil continued.

"I'm touring across the country. It's already sold out, I have to go. I won't be back here for months. Maybe even a year. I don't know, I have to ask my manager."

Nothing.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

Virgil bit his lip. "I didn't want you to leave, or pretend you liked me so you could use me. I wanted you to treat me like a person, and not-"

"No, I meant why are you sorry?"

Virgil met Roman's eyes. They were kind, sad, but not for himself. 

"Virgil," he said, running his thumb across the star's cheek, "I understand. I'm sorry you felt like you had to pretend, like that was your only option. But you'll always be Virgil to me. You're a guy who sings and who writes songs, and you're a guy who likes the Black Cauldron, and emo vinyls, and cookies and cream ice cream. You're still just a person."

Tears gathered at the corners of Virgil's eyes. His grip tightened on Roman's knee. "B-but I lied to you. I let all this happen, even though I'm leaving you in a matter of days. It's not fair to you."

"It's not fair that you had to pretend, either. It's not your fault you can't trust people."

"Y-yeah, but..." Virgil sniffed. "I wasted your time. I-"

"You did not. This is the best time I've had in a while. Not a second of time that I've spent with you has been wasted."

"But I'm leaving."

"It's not like you had a choice."

"But I want to stay here with you. I'd take you with me if I could."

"Are you not allowed to?"

"It's not that. You have your own life, and your job, and you live here."

"So do you. You'll be back someday, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be back, but I'll be gone for so long."

"I'll wait for you."

"No. No, you can't."

"Why not?" Roman asked flatly.

Virgil was getting frustrated. It was sweet that Roman wanted to keep dating him, but it wasn’t the right thing to do. It wasn't practical. "You'll miss out on other people. We can't even see each other. How would we even work?"

"It'll just be like long distance. Tons of people have long distance relationships."

"Yeah, but you deserve to find other people. Ones who stick around."

"Why does that even matter if I want you?!"

It went silent once again after Roman's unexpected outburst. He wasn't looking at Virgil anymore, but it was evident that his face was red. He frowned, and after a second a tear fell from his cheek and onto the planks of the bench.

"I'm sorry. Can we just make the most of this while you're still here, at least?"

Virgil stared. He was chewing his lip as another tear ran down his face. "If you're sure that's what you want."

"It is."

"Okay."

Their ice cream had melted. They stood, tossing their soggy cones in a convenient trash can.

"We'll go out again before I leave," Virgil promised.

Roman nodded. "Okay. Can I walk you home?"

"I would love that."

Virgil took Roman's hand and they started off. The two walked and talked about nothing and everything. Roman wasn't treating Virgil any different, and the relief he felt was overwhelming his guilt. 

They made it to Virgil's door.

"I'll... see you. Tomorrow?" Roman suggested.

"Yeah. For sure."

Roman kissed Virgil, a little kiss goodnight. But as he was about to pull back, Virgil grasped at his jacket collar, holding it tightly and holding Roman close to him. He kissed him harder, his eyes screwed shut.

It was desperate, needy.

Roman followed along, tilting his head, letting Virgil take anything he needed. He snaked his arms around Virgil's waist, and moved one upwards until it was tangled in the star's hair.

Virgil licked at Roman's lips, and moved his tongue into Roman's mouth soon afterwards. He was the one in control this time. 

He tasted the remnants of strawberry ice cream, relished it like he'd never experience it again. It was mixed with saliva. Someone else's never tastes like your own. 

Virgil accidentally-on-purpose bit Roman's lip. Just for a second, but Roman's grip tightened on him. He tugged on Virgil's hair and the smallest, almost inaudible noise came from his throat.

Virgil stopped and pulled back nearly an inch, flushed and breathing heavy. 

"Come on," he managed as he fumbled for his key. He found it and jammed it into the lock.

"Let's go."

The door swung open and he grabbed Roman's hand, leading him inside and snatching the key before closing the door. As he turned around to close the distance between them again, Roman pulled him close first, sealing their lips together.

Virgil hummed contentedly, then started to continue where he left off.

Soon after, Roman pulled back. Virgil was breathing hard, and he felt delirious. He started to calm down until he felt Roman's mouth on his neck. His eyes flew open as he gasped.

Roman was kissing his neck. Virgil leaned his head back, sucking in a breath as Roman licked a stripe up his throat. He held back embarrassing noises as Roman neared his collarbone, until he started sucking.

"Ahh~" Virgil moaned, grabbing at Roman's hair and shirt collar.

Roman pulled back to take a heavy breath, laden with pleasure, and promptly went back to giving Virgil hickeys.

Everything that happened that night became a blur, only certain words and phrases sticking out in Virgil's memory.

"Stay."

"Darling."

"My love."

Virgil woke up in Roman's arms and his own sheets. It was still dark. He sat up, careful not to wake Roman, and padded groggily to his desk. He downed the contents of an old water bottle that had been sitting there for a few days now. He checked his phone for the time. It shone the numbers 4:17 am back at him.

Damn. He wouldn't be very happy later.

Virgil walked back to sit on the end of his bed, but as he neared it, his guitar caught his eye.

His song was due in a few days. What could he even do about it at this point? He'd been stuck staring at a half-written page for the last week. There wasn't anything he could do about it. There simply wasn't anything else he could add. His efforts proved futile.

Maybe he should scrap it?

That was stupid. He couldn't write a whole new song before his tour. 

Couldn't he?

He sang out his feelings before. Even when he couldn't add to his draft, he sat and sang and something came out. 

Virgil made up his mind. He'd keep his draft as a backup. He'd finish it by force if this plan didn't work. But he'd otherwise scrap it for his tour; he was going to write a whole new song.

About what??

Roman.

WHAT?

What? What else is going on in your mind? It's all him. That's all you can write about.

...

Okay.

Virgil grabbed his notebook. Sometimes it worked better for him than his laptop. He couldn't use his guitar or he'd wake Roman up, but he could write lyrics.

He grabbed a pencil and started scratching at the paper.

He had ideas already.

Roman woke to Virgil sitting by his feet, violently scribbling into a notebook.

"Virge?" He managed groggily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

Virgil jumped and turned to look at him. "Oh. Good morning. Did I wake you up?"

"No, not at all. What are you doing?"

"I'm, um... writing."

"Right, your song. How long have you been up, anyways?"

Virgil checked the clock. 8:03. "Uh... Almost 4 hours now, I guess."

"4 hours???" Roman grabbed his phone and turned it on. "Virgil, you could have woken me up if you couldn't sleep. You woke up way too early. You barely got any sleep."

"It's fine." Virgil closed the notebook. "You still have your makeup on from yesterday. You want some makeup remover?"

"Yes please. You still have yours on, too."

"Let's go, then." Virgil held his hand out for Roman to take. He accepted and stood, letting the blanket fall off of his legs. They made their way to the bathroom. 

"Hey," Roman piped up while they both stared intently into the mirror, "if you're famous, does that mean I can look up your music and listen to it?"

"I mean, you can if you want," Virgil responded, wiping off some eyeliner. "The old stuff isn't great though. I'm not too proud of it."

"Nonsense, I'm sure it's all amazing."

"Not during my youtube days," Virgil scoffed. 

"Then how did you make it your career? People liked your stuff, or else you wouldn't have made it here."

"I guess you're right..."

"So I just search up your stage name, right? Or your most famous song?"

"Mhm. Look up 'Anxiety,' all caps, on Spotify. That should work."

"Will do," Roman said giddily. "What are your plans for today, by the way?"

"Nothing much. I just have to get my suitcases packed by Friday, and I was going to start today." He wiped away his eyeshadow. "We could get breakfast though, if you want."

"Yeah, I'd love to. I don't have other clothes, though. I'd have to stop by my place."

"You can just borrow some of mine."

"I can?"

"Sure. You can go through my dresser."

"Thanks Virge," Roman said, pecking him on the cheek. Virgil grinned like an idiot. Roman walked out of the bathroom, and pulled open a drawer to reveal an assortment of emo band t-shirts. Surprising.

Chapter Text

"Hello?" Virgil answered.

"Virgil!" Roman could be heard over the phone. "Would it be possible to take me with you if I didn't have my job and life here?"

Virgil crossed his legs. He had been working on his new song again at the end of his bed. "I mean, yeah. You could travel with me and come to all of my concerts. Admission would be waived, obviously. If you weren't all settled here, I'd love to take you with me. We could see the country. Why do you ask?"

But he was talking to himself by then. Roman had hung up.

Was that not the answer he wanted?

Virgil was too tired to think any more on that matter. He was too focused on writing and strumming out the melodies and harmonies he'd come up with so far. He continued trying out different chords, before setting the guitar down and grabbing an old pair of drumsticks. He'd gotten them from his drummer; they were too worn out to work properly anymore. He used them for composing percussion, tapping them against random objects, like his desk, or counters, or whatever other hard surface he encountered.

He pressed play on his laptop. He had recorded a demo track with his guitar. He tapped out a steady beat first. He then used the second drumstick to add some more complex rhythms on top of the makeshift metronome he'd produced.

Whatever he was doing, it sounded good. He repeated the pattern another time through his song, then again to record it. He merged the tracks, then took a deep breath.

Track 3: Vocals

He had forgotten all about Roman's call until the aforementioned man showed up at his doorstep.

"Roman?"

"Virgil. Hypothetically. If I were to go with you, what would I need to pack?"

"Why? It's not like you can even go. You still have your job and-"

"About that..."

Virgil stiffened. "What?"

"Hear me out on this. Don't be mad."

"Mad about what?" Virgil asked, jaw clenched.

"I... might... have maybe," Roman said slowly, dragging out each word, "quite possibly... uh... quit my job."

"YOU WHAT?!?!" Virgil shouted, wide-eyed. "YOU DUMBASS! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?"

"Because I want to go with you."

"No. No, no, no no no. You... you have a life here. You had a job here, God Roman why did you do that?!"

"So I could come with you!"

"Why do you want to go so badly?!"

"It's because of you!" Roman cried. "It's all because of you!"

Virgil was stunned to silence.

"I don't know what it is, but you... you're just... I feel like I need you. It's like I've been waiting my whole life for you, and now I have you. I can't lose you. I don't know why. It feels like we were supposed to be together. Like maybe we were meant to meet at the café. Please tell me if it's just me, but-"

Virgil interrupted him with a kiss, but a second later he pulled away, hands on Roman's shoulders. He was smiling.

"You idiot," he said. "I can't believe you."

Roman made an offended sound. "What?! Did it sound that dumb?" 

"No." Virgil said through a grin, his eyes pricking with tears. "No, you said it perfectly."

Roman breathed a sigh through a smile. He hugged Virgil and Virgil hugged back tightly.

"Well, I guess I've got to pack then," Roman pulled back, holding Virgil’s hands. 

"I guess so."

Virgil held his phone to his ear. "Hello, Patton?"

"Hey, Virgil! What's up?"

He looked over at Roman, who was sitting next to him expectantly. "I'm allowed to hire people right?"

"Sure you can! I mean, you're the boss, right?"

"Cool. So, uh... my new editor's coming on tour with us. Can you accommodate whatever needs to be done?"

"Ooh, absolutely! I can't wait to meet them!"

"Cool, thanks," Virgil sighed in relief. 

"Just to make sure, you're okay with extra charges for accommodations?"

"How much?"

"Well, we'll need more food, and another hotel room at every stop, and-"

"Patton, we, uh..." he hid his blush from Roman and spoke quieter into the receiver. "We don’t... need an extra room..."

Roman turned red as well. Virgil hadn't been speaking quietly enough.

"Oh! Oh, okay!" Patton sounded like he'd heard something he wasn't supposed to. "Saves a lot of money! After those, there are only minor changes to the budget, it shouldn't be much more."

"That's fine. Can you start fixing anything else we need to make room for him?"

"Sure thing, Virgil! Did you need anything else?"

"That's all. Thanks so much."

"Okay! I'll get started now. Bye!"

"Bye."

Virgil hung up and cleared his throat, trying to forget his embarrassment. "There. It's done." He looked to Roman, smiling softly. "You're coming with me. Officially."

Roman practically squealed in excitement and tackled Virgil in a hug. "Thank you! Thank you so much, Virge!"

Virgil hugged him back. "Thank you."

Chapter Text

And just like that, it was the first show of the tour.

Virgil was in the backstage prep room, touching up his drastic violet makeup and tuning his electric guitar. His stage nerves had settled in a while ago, but they usually happened to dissipate a few minutes before the show.

Not tonight.

His nerves were still there. They wouldn't go away. He had quadruple-checked his makeup, triple-checked his tuning, and had sprayed enough hairspray to keep his hair in place during a hurricane. 

They were still there.

He did energetic exercises, practically guaranteed to shake away his nerves.

But nothing changed.

Why did it have to be this night out of all nights? 

Maybe because... Roman was in the audience.

Virgil snuck a glance out from backstage. He could see Roman clearly; he was right up front. He was on his phone, since Virgil's opener had already finished. Virgil's crew was busy fixing the stage, setting up drums and microphones. 

Virgil had left Roman in the hotel to get ready while he arrived at the venue to practice and get his outfit and makeup on. While he was gone, Roman had whipped up an outfit that was fit for a rock concert. His makeup was more vibrant than it was on their date, with bright reds and yellows, and a large, sharp wing of eyeliner on each eye. It looked great on him.

"Places in five, Anxiety," said a backstage crew member. 

"Thanks." Virgil needed to get in the zone. He dragged his eyes away from Roman and headed to stage left. He'd make his entrance from there. He made sure he had his guitar pick with him, and he made sure that his guitar strap wasn't worn too much. But everything was already set up. He didn't have anything to fuss over to take his mind off the performance. His electric guitar was even plugged into the amp already. 

"Thirty seconds."

"Gotcha."

His band was onstage already, getting settled with their instruments. The crowd was getting amped up, yelling and clapping for the players.

Virgil put his earpiece in and turned on his head mic. He took a deep breath.

His drummer started up a beat. Then the band started playing the intro to a song of his. The crowd erupted into cheers.

A member of his crew held up five fingers in front of him.

Five seconds.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

It's go time.

Virgil sang the first vocal note of the song, still behind the curtain, before emerging onto the stage. The crowd screamed at seeing the famous Anxiety's face, and Virgil grinned as his fears dissipated.

This was the zone.

He struck a chord on his guitar, and the notes rang out and reverberated through the venue from the amp. The audience was loving him already.

His rockstar persona took over the stage. He did what he knew to do: play, sing, dance, smile, and make the crowd fall for him.

He stared out at his audience, the stage lights blinding him from actually seeing anything. He'd finished his first song without realizing. And they were going wild. 

"How are we doing tonight?" He yelled to the crowd. The crowd yelled back. Virgil raised his fist in the air with a wide smile. "Hell yeah!"

His heart was racing. This was the adrenaline rush he was addicted to. His social anxiety was one thing, but it was quite another when people paid to see him.

"As I'm sure you all know, his next one's about a guy who was terrible for me, and I mean really bad. I wrote this one for a lying snake. You son of a bitch, this one's for you."

His band started up again as the crowd roared in anticipation for another one of his popular songs. 

He kept on like this, strumming and singing and addressing the people in front of him. He played his beloved songs, and the audience 'whoo'-ed and clapped, and then they'd do it again.

And then it was time for his newest song. The one nobody had even heard yet, not even his manager. Not his producer. Not Roman.

"All right, you guys! You're an awesome group of people, y'know that?" Virgil spoke.

Naturally, he got cheers in response.

"Now, we've gone through some of your favorite songs, but I've got a little treat for you. Here, tonight, you will be the first ones to hear a song I've just written, specially for this tour." Virgil looked to Roman, who was just a few feet from the stage. He was staring at Virgil, maybe in awe.

This was it. Roman was finally going to hear the finished product of the song he'd helped with, right from day one. 

"This is about a very special person to me; a certain little loverboy of sorts. I hope you guys like it."

He looked down to his guitar and took a deep breath. He raised his arm, and it came down onto the strings just right.

His mouth opened.

And then came the lyrics. All his feelings, all pouring out.

Chapter Text

"Once upon a rainy day,

You waltzed into my life,

Sat down at my table, pulled up a chair.

And now, with all that's going on,

Stress cuts me like a knife,

But when I'm with you I never even care,"

He gazed right at Roman.

"And oh, oh, oh!

Now I'm writing songs about you.

And oh, oh, oh!

Yeah, there you are!"

Roman was gazing right back at Virgil. He'd lost his smile but that look in his eyes... was it admiration? Affection? 

These weren't the lyrics he'd previewed. This was a whole different song. And it was about... him.

Virgil's anxiety was trying to seep through the back of his mind, but he drowned it out with his words, his feelings.

"I see your face, in every place,

I'm trying hard, to be your shining star!

Cuz you walked in and stole my heart!

And now I'm writing songs about you babe.

Waltzed in and played the part!

Once upon a rainy day.

Now I'm writing songs about you."

He returned to speaking while his band played the interlude behind him. The song wasn't over yet.

"Now, I've been dating this guy," he drawled to the audience. They roared in response. He smirked. "And he just so happens to be on tour with me. Would you guys like to meet him?"

The crowd went into a frenzy.

"Alrighty then." He gestured to the tech booth. They were in charge of spotlights as well. Then he kneeled at the front of the stage. Some other people tried to get to him, yelling out "Anxiety!" But he only had eyes for one person.

"Hey Roman," Virgil spoke low into his mic as the crowd screamed. He smiled. "Come on up here, Loverboy."

The spotlights beamed down onto them both. Roman looked redder than he had before. Virgil didn't think it was the stage lights.

Roman couldn't believe it. He was being called onstage by his sparkly purple emo rockstar boyfriend. What was even more, Virgil seemed to be showing off the hickeys he'd gotten just a few days ago. You could see them around his neck, his chest, his middle, his side. Everyone could see them. The world could see them, and it could see their love.

Roman started to push his way to the front, and Virgil held out his hand. Roman grasped it as soon as he got close enough. Virgil pulled him onstage, and stood, still with Roman's hand in his. He raised their hands as if they were about to do a curtain call.

Roman looked out into the audience, which proved to be quite difficult in stage lights. He smiled at them all and waved a bit before looking over at Virgil.

Virgil smile was blinding. It wasn't just in his cheeks, it was in his eyes. He was happy. This was where he belonged: onstage, with Roman.

Then Virgil let go of his hand, just to pull him in by the waist. Roman turned scarlet.

Virgil looked at Roman's face, and down to his lips, the smallest trace of a smirk gracing his face. 

This was hot. So hot. 

Those were pretty much the only thoughts running through Roman's head as adrenaline coursed through his body.

It seemed like Virgil was getting closer. His lips were right there, and with lipstick, imagine what they could show off with lipstick--

Virgil broke their gaze, turning his face to the audience and grinning like a maniac. 

"Guys, gals, and nonbinary pals, take a look at my man. Goddamn."

The crowd was roaring.

Virgil pulled back from Roman, to place his fingers on the neck of his guitar. 

"You stole my heart, we'll never part,

Be mine, Loverboy.

That coffee shop, that's where it starts,

Be mine, Loverboy."

He shot a glance over at Roman, who was obviously flustered in the spotlight. But he was smiling at Virgil, and the rockstar decided that he would do anything and everything to keep that smile, to be the cause of it, and to see it forever.

"And oh! Oh! Oh! 

Now I'm writing songs about you!"

He wrote a whole song, just for Roman, and performed it in front of thousands of people.

"And oh! Oh! Oh!

Yeah there you are!"

And there he would be, from then on out. They would be together. A rockstar and a community actor.

Virgil took Roman in his arms again, right as the song ended. He dipped Roman onstage, in front of everybody. Then Virgil put a hand over his mic. 

"Is this okay?"

Roman's smile was practically reaching the edges of his face. "Perfect."

Their lips collided, pairing a kiss with the explosive background chord signaling the end of the song. The shreiks of the crowd, along with the lingering bassline, were all drowned out as Roman and Virgil held each other close, smiling against each others soft, closed lips; a moment just for them in the midst of an event, all of which was secondary to them. 

The echoing sound of a recording spread throughout the venue as the song faded. It was Virgils voice, prerecorded.

"Now I'm writing songs about you."