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Chapter Text

1 year, 3 months, and 22 days ago…

It’s been three days since Total Drama World Tour came to its end, three days since he watched Heather walk away with a million dollars, and three days since he left that godforsaken show for good .

Since the show’s conclusion, Noah had spent most of his time half-asleep on a plane, or half-dead in his own bed. He had been lucid enough to hear his sisters' worried conversation outside his bedroom door, yet not awake enough to properly dispute their claims that he was ‘depressed’ or ‘upset about failing.’ He was constantly drifting in-and-out of consciousness, taking miniscule bites out of the meals his family left thoughtfully on his bedside table, and falling asleep again almost immediately.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was so tired this time around. He had stayed with the rest of the cast during Island and Action, and had been almost-energized when he had finally returned home after five months, practically elated to see his family once again, but now… Now he could barely lift himself out of bed.

The day before, two of his sisters had bounced into his room, sitting themselves down on the bed even when they realized that Noah was in no state to have a conversation, and began to talk to each other in quiet whispers.

Quiet, but not quite enough to stop Noah from hearing in his semi-conscious state.

" What’s wrong with him?” One of his sisters, Nicky, only a year older than himself, had muttered, and the other sister, probably Alani, but definitely one of the two oldest twins, had sighed. “ He barely said hello when he got back, just went and collapsed.”

“ I don’t know .” Alani murmured, her voice softer, and filled with a worry that made Noah’s eyebrows furrow. “ Maybe he’s upset that he lost like that? He got so much further this season, and you saw the way he was looking at that Alejandro guy, that probably- I would’ve lost it .”

Ah. Something about Alejandro’s name had made Noah groan, and his two sisters had laughed excitedly when he had sat up, and scowled about how they were sitting on his feet.

…But maybe that was it.

Truth be told, he doesn’t really care about losing the million dollars. There wasn’t much he could do about it, when a simple slip of the tongue had caused his descent out of the plane, so he had simply grit his teeth until any lingering disappointment – or resentment – for the show had faded away into the air around him.

But Alejandro, however, that was something different. Alejandro, his teammate, his friend, almost, had completely and utterly fucked him over. Yeah, sure, it’s a reality show, that’s what you’re supposed to do, but when Alejandro had smirked as he watched him jump out of the plane, Noah had felt an anger build up in him like he had never felt before.

An anger that lay in waiting until the final challenge… but completely dissipated the moment he watched Alejandro plummet into the lava of an active volcano.

…He’ll admit that that one made him jump. The sight of him falling into the molten, bubbling, liquid rock had made Noah jolt so hard that he’s sure a couple of years got taken off his lifespan, but christ , the relief he felt when Chris revealed that it wasn’t actually lava, and in fact the largest CGI stunt ever pulled on the show… Well, let’s just say, he wanted to take a few years off of Chris’s life in return.

Still, three days after the end of Total Drama World Tour, Noah is rotting in his bedroom like a teenager going through their first breakup. His head is buried in his pillows, and the blanket is pulled so far up to his ears that he almost doesn’t hear it when Alani throws open the door to his bedroom and yells.

“Noah, someone’s at the door for you!”

He sighed, blinking his eyes open and staring at the light flooding through the door. From the outside, he could hear the usual dinner commotion and the sound of his mothers music blasting through the door. The clinking of plates and the jingling of cutlery echoed down the hallway, and he could hear the sound of a man's voice jumping in through the front door.

A man's voice not entirely unfamiliar to him.

God-fucking-dammit.

“You’re kidding me.” He scowled, heaving himself out from under the covers, and staring, almost horrified, at his sister. She only rolled her eyes, and nodded with a sigh.

“Yeah, we told them you were asleep but they were being fuckin’ persistant.”

“Christ, it’s both of them…”

Noah rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger, and began to trudge past her and into the warm light of the hallway. Almost instantly, the smell of the rest of the house hit his senses; the combination of his sister's perfume, sweat from somebody who just got back from training, warm sugar and dinner on the stove. It almost knocked him backwards for a second, but he just groaned, and hoisted himself over to the front door at the end of the hallway.

Standing in front of the door was his mother, who whipped her head around in a flash as she heard his footsteps.

“I told you all to-!” She hissed, something harsh on the tip of her tongue that melted away the moment she met Noah’s eyes. At the sight of him, the scowl on her face softened, and she let out a relieved sigh as she swished over, meeting him before he could get to the door. “Noah, dear, I’m glad you’re awake, we were afraid you were going to rot in there, hm?”

Noah simply rolled his eyes, but let his mother kiss his cheek and ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, yeah, good to see you too, mom. Can i, y’know-” He gestured around at the door, and his mother clicked her tongue.

“So rude, just barging in here at dinner time… Scold them for me, will you?” She hummed, and Noah nodded, chuckling a little bit as she strode back into the kitchen. For a few seconds, he watched her go with a frown, before his gaze hardened, and he whipped around to face the door once more.

Standing in the doorway, a sleazy, show-biz grin set on his face, and hair so shiny it’s a miracle it isn’t blinding him by reflecting the light of the moon, is his worst enemy.

His worst enemy… who is holding up a black credit card.

Chris-fucking-McLean.

“Noah.” he grins, and Noah scowls harder than he’s ever scowled before.

“ Mclean .”

Chris’s smile only grows larger, and he points back towards a black SUV parked in his driveway. Sitting in the driver's seat is Noah’s second worst enemy , Chef, who’s looking boredly down at a phone in his hands. Somehow the nonchalance only makes Noah angrier, and when he turns back to look at Chris, the host has both of his hands resting on his hips, and he tilts his head to the side before he speaks.

“Care for a drink, kid? We’ve gotta talk.”

—

“I thought you meant, like, alcohol or something.” Noah scowled, twirling his spoon around the mug of coffee in front of him, clinking the metal against ceramic in quiet, even patterns. “God knows you aren’t above intoxicating children…”

Chris only rolled his eyes, and Chef took a swig of his drink with a scowl. The three of them were sitting around a small, circular table outside a quaint little coffee shop, maybe a 20 minute drive away from his house. The sky above was clear, and if Noah looked up, he could see constellations littering the inky black like crumbs on a blanket.

It was almost comforting, in contrast to the vibe of the two men around him. Almost high-strung, and a little bit nervous.

“I’m above more than you know, dude.” Chris grinned. “There aren’t even any camera’s rolling.”

Noah scowled even harder, and took a reluctant sip of his drink. It wasn’t even coffee, it was hot chocolate.

Damn you, Chris McLean. He thought, and all but slammed the mug down onto its coaster. The sound, seemingly, made Chef jump, and Chris raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I know you’re not just ‘checking up on me’ or whatever.” He leaned forward, resting both of his arms on the table in a hope to give off some sort of air of authority. The taste of warm chocolate was sweet on his tongue. “It’s gotta be important, showing up at my house in the middle of dinner and all- which is so rude , by the way. So spit it out already, what do you want ?”

Chris and Chef exchanged a reluctant glance, seemingly having a conversation through their eyes. At the sight of Chef closing his eyes and letting out a reluctant sigh, he felt a twinge of victory in his stomach. Neither of them wanted to be the one to share what they needed to say.

…But that was worrying. That meant it was something bad.

“Kid, we wouldn’t be asking this if we had another option.” He said firmly, his voice deep and grave, like the news was something tragic. Noah frowned, the anger in his gut almost turning to worry, and a tiny twinge of fear. “But unfortunately, we don’t, so…”

He paused, and Noah’s stomach flipped.

“...So, what? You’re acting like someone died, jesus.” He paused, and when neither of their expressions changed, he blinked. “...Did someone actually die? Are you asking me to give a eulogy ?”

At this, Chris snorted, and the worried expression on his face fell, only slightly.

“Nobody died, kid.” He rolled his eyes, and the worry in Noah’s gut instantly turned back to rage. “We just know that you aren’t gonna like what we have to ask you.”

Noah furrowed his eyebrows. “...Spit it out then, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I can say no.”

There was a brief moment of silence, the only sounds being the muffled noise of the coffee machine inside the store, and the distant laughing of another group of people, situated on the other side of the road. When it became evident that Chef wasn’t going to finish, Chris sighed, and placed his hands gently on the table.

“I need you to be my assistant again.” He said, and Noah felt the expression on his face fall. “None of the other applicants are up to task, and, well, it’s in your Total Drama contract-”

No, No . Fuck no.

“What the fuck ?” He interrupted, slamming his fists on the table, making their mugs clink, and standing from his chair. “What the fuck do you mean it’s in my contract?”

Chef scowled, pulling from behind him a large binder full of white paper, the same binder that Noah had signed when he agreed to participate in Total Drama Island. He paled, and when the taller man flipped to one of the middle pages, one of the ones he hadn’t been bothered to read, he felt his stomach drop .

“Right here. Contestant is obligated to perform assistant duties for Chris McLean and associates. The specifics and details are outlined on the next few pages, but it’s pretty air-tight.”

“Oh my god.” Noah breathed, and pulled the contract towards him, frantically reading through the pages, hoping for something, no matter how small, that could get him out of this. “Oh my god .”

Page after page, nothing that could stop him from being sued to the ends of the earth if he refused. It was just demands, detailing everything that he would need to do if he was placed in the job again, reinforcements of the things he already knew, until-

He whipped his head up again, and scowled at the smirk playing across Chris’s lips. But he pointed, rather aggressively, down at the contract.

“It says I can make demands.” He spoke, trying to keep his voice steady, even amongst the rage threatening to spill from his lips. “I can request things, huh?”

Chris grinned and nodded, slowly and smugly .

“Yes you can . Very good, kid. See, observant as hell .” He nudged Chef with his elbow, who let out a noncommittal sigh as he continued to sip his drink. “Anything you want. Go ahead, shoot .”

Noah hesitated for a moment. Anything he wanted? That didn’t sound like Chris at all . Maybe he was so desperate for his help that he was literally willing to give him anything he wanted. Maybe he just had so much money, after the sky-rocketing ratings of the last season, that he could actually afford the help. Maybe, just maybe, he felt a little bad about his elimination in the game beforehand…

The thought almost made Noah snort, but when he looked down at the host, only a few inches shorter than him, even while he was sitting down, there was something in the glint of his eyes that made Noah unsure.

“...I want a pay raise.” He spoke, voice even and demanding.

Chris just nodded, and shrugged.

“Already planning on that one anyway.” He grinned, and Noah felt his eye twitch.

“An apartment that’s not too far from wherever I have to work.” He paused, then added. “Hotel rooms too, good one’s , whenever you make me travel.”

“Done.” Chris grinned.

“A bonus.”

“Easy.”

“...Paid vacation, sick leave, healthcare.”

“Unlimited PTO. Only the best for my personal assistant. Also, you already have healthcare. We live in Canada .”

Noah stopped. The grin hadn’t left the host’s face since he started speaking, but something akin to excitement was slowly building in his eyes, and it made him nervous . But he could feel his resolve weakening, there was just one thing left-

“...I never have to do another season of Total Drama again.” Then he added, hesitantly. “...Unless I actually want to. No more forcing me into your maniacal shit.”

This made Chris hesitate, and he opened his mouth to respond, before he snapped it shut again. Next to him, Chef looked between the two of them and barked out a laugh, nudging Chris mockingly with his elbow. However, he didn’t say anything, and Noah was left staring at Chris expectantly.

For a moment, he thought that Chris was going to refuse, but eventually, he let out a long, exasperated laugh, and held out his hand for a shake.

“...Y’know what, yeah, I promise, you never have to do another season again, so long as my name’s not Chris McLean.” He grinned, and Noah hesitated, staring down at the hand extended towards him. “Why don’t we shake on it, huh?”

The hand of the devil himself. Manicured nails. Long, evil fingers. Palms soft, as if he’s never had to do any form of work in his life.

But Noah reached forward, and shook Chris’s hand with a scowl.

“You’ve made the right decision, kid.” Chris beamed, and stood from his chair. Noah’s stomach dropped, and fuck , if there’s ever been a bad decision made, it was definitely this one. “Welcome back to Chris McLean Inc. Now get up. We’re shipping you out to Ontario tomorrow.”

God-fucking-damn you, Chris McLean

—

Present Day.

Two styrofoam coffee cups sit ready and waiting on the kitchenette counter in front of him. One of them is dark, hot, and bitter; exactly the way Chef likes it. The other is just as hot, but horrifyingly sugary, and honestly, more cream than coffee; it’s the only way that Chris will drink it.

As Noah stands, staring at the cups, the realization that he doesn’t know which is which, dawning on him like a tidal wave, he lets out the longest sigh known to man. It’s all he can do to stop himself from slamming his head into the marble countertop.

“...I hate this job.” He muttered, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

It’s been just over a year since Chris McLean strong-armed him back into his assistant contract, and if he’s being honest… Noah doesn’t actually hate this job. Chris held strong to his promise of a pay raise and good insurance, so he’s able to afford the solitary apartment he rents – only a few minutes walk away from the studio, thanks to Chef pulling some strings. – And for some reason, both Chef and Chris have actually been a lot… nicer to him, this time around.

He’s not entirely sure why, but whatever the reason, he’s glad that he’s not stuck cleaning up after the host’s publicity stunts anymore. No, instead, he’s been stuck on coffee duty, and following the two of them around as ‘personal help’ for the last year or so.

Right now, he’s doing the former.

The studio is cool and quiet as he picks up the two cups and begins to walk towards the elevator. The night before, practically the entire office had been out at the closest bar in celebration of the concluding episode of one of their various tv shows. From what he had heard, the majority of his co-workers had called in sick this morning.

The thought made him snicker, and he made a mental note to get the details of the night from Chris later. For now, however, he had to pray that the elevator was actually working , or successfully get down the stairs with coffee cups intact.

The metal buttons that summon the elevator are cool to the touch, a direct contrast to the hot coffee slowly burning his hands.

“Shit, I should’ve grabbed a cup holder- Oh fuck yeah .” He muttered, grinning as the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open with a quiet woosh of air. The temperature inside the elevator was somehow twice as cold as outside, and the sinking feeling as it ascended five or so floors made Noah feel a little sick. He wasn’t sure when he noticed, but the feeling of a rising elevator was eerily similar to the feeling of an airplane taking flight.

One day, he had simply started gritting his teeth a little bit harder every time he stepped past the doors, and clutching the railing just a little more aggressively than necessary whenever he had a free hand. Today, however, he didn’t, so he simply stood, leaning against the wall, waiting impatiently for the doors to release him to safety once again.

…He was probably being a little bit dramatic about it, if he’s being honest, but still, the relief he felt when the doors slid open made his heart skip a beat, and he hurriedly stepped back onto the carpeted office flooring.

“Ah, Noah! There you are, kid, we were wondering when you’d show up.” A voice echoed across the floor, and Noah heaved a sigh as he glanced up from the cups in his hands. Waving at him from across the landing was Chris McLean, an easy grin on his face and hair slicked back, as if he had just washed it.

“I’m five minutes early?” He raised an eyebrow as he held up the coffee cups, and rolled his eyes when Chris leaned back in his chair, almost tipping himself over.

Practically the entire 6th floor of the building had been converted into an office for Chris, Chef, and their personal staff. It kind of reminded Noah of one of those American police precincts, with the large, open space outside the elevator where everybody kept their desks. The ceilings were high, and long rectangle windows wrapped around the walls, giving them a view of the rest of the city around them. The open office space didn’t take up the entirety of the floor, as bathrooms, an individual meeting area, and various other rooms and supply closets wrapped around in a looping hallway, but all of the workers typically stuck to their desks, milling around with and laughing like co-workers who have known each other their entire lives.

…Or at least they usually did. Because of the party last night, there wasn’t anybody other than Chris and himself in the office. As he walked over to the host, holding out what he hoped was the correct coffee, he wondered where Chef was.

“You’re always five minutes early.” Chris mused, and gestured for Noah to look at the laptop screen in front of him. But Noah watched as he took the coffee cup from his outstretched hand, and took a long, slow gulp. When the host simply put the cup down on his coaster, he let out a hum of satisfaction. “Thanks for the coffee, kid. Chef’ll be back in a bit, so you can just put his cup down.”

Noah raised an eyebrow.

“Where’d he go?”

Chris let out a non-committal hum, and waved his hand around in nonchalance. Noah was never entirely sure what that meant, but one thing he could gather was that it meant he shouldn’t ask any follow-up questions. Obviously, after a year on the job, he’s learnt to completely ignore these types of unspoken rules.

Hey, if he did, he’d never get anything done.

“What, did he go to the bathroom? You can just tell me, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Chris rolled his eyes. But a smirk played on the edge of his lips as he looked up at him.

“It’s none of your business. ” He hummed, and Noah scoffed.

“It literally is my business, senile.” He scowled, but when Chris simply turned back to the laptop with an exasperated snort at the sound of the nickname, he simply let out a sigh. “He’s my- You know what? I don’t actually care. What do you want to show me?”

Noah grasped the back of one of the wheely chairs from the desk closest, and dragged it over as Chris swivelled the laptop towards him. When he sat down, he swung a leg over his knee, and peered down at the laptop with a raised eyebrow. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but then he sucked in a breath, and leaned back in his chair.

“...Shit, it’s that high? ” He gaped, staring, almost dumbfounded at the screen. The smile on Chris’s face is so filled with glee, that he can’t help but shudder a little bit.

“Yup. Total Drama: Revenge of the Island is the favourite to win ‘Best Reality Show’ at the Gemmies this year.” He grinned, and Noah felt his jaw drop even further. 

He had specifically refused to work on the new season of Total Drama, despite the amount of times Chris had asked him too. Hell, he hadn’t even watched any of the episodes besides the finale, because the thought of doing so made him want to throw up. (Also because Gwen had frantically called him after she appeared in an episode, borderline hysterical, asking him if he could pick her up from the airport because everybody else was busy. He had done so without hesitation.) He didn’t think that it would be so popular, especially with the new cast.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered, and scratched the side of his cheek in thought. Chris only nodded, the grin not leaving his face for a second.

“Yep! The nominations come out in three days, and if we’re nominated – And we’re definitely going to be nominated – we’re all going to the awards show! So, I’m going to take you suit shopping next week, because Neither Chef nor I trust you to buy one yourself.”

Noah froze, eyebrows furrowed, and tried desperately to find the words to respond with. What the hell ? He already owned a suit, and he hadn't even worked on Revenge of the Island! However, all he could conjure up was a stuttered-

“... What ?”

Chris only grinned again, and took another gulp of his coffee.

“You heard me! Suit shopping next Tuesday, no getting out of it, kid. Now, I know that it’s early, but Chef wants some of those fancy pastries from the bakery down the street.”

Noah was still speechless, just staring at Chris, almost dumbfounded. This seemed to concern him, because the grin on the host’s face faltered, if only slightly, and he raised a worried eyebrow.

“...Noah? Kid? You alright there?”

But Noah just blinked, and shook his head with a surprised cough.

“Yeah, uh, sorry. I’m good. Which pastries?”

Chris hesitated, but he let out a concerned sigh, and started scribbling something on a scrap piece of paper.

“Chef likes the blueberry ones. Here.” The smile on his face re-appeared, and he handed him the piece of paper. Scribbled on it was doctor-like handwriting, detailing a vague sounding order of baked goods. But Noah stood up from his seat and nodded.

“Alright, do you need anything else while I'm out?” He questioned, and Chris shook his head with a smile. “Cool.”

“Stay safe!” Chris yelled after him as he began to walk away, something on the edge of his voice that wasn't quite mocking. “Don't get hit by any cars, kid!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He called back with an eye roll, and he could practically hear the smug smile on the host’s face. He had gotten into the habit of telling Noah to ‘keep himself safe’ every time he sent him on an errand, but like many things Chris McLean did, he wasn’t entirely sure why. Whatever it was, it seemed to make him happy whenever he acknowledged it, so he himself had gotten into the habit of answering with a cynical sounding ‘whatever’ or ‘yeah, yeah’ every time.

When he reached the elevator, something about the sound of the rising cables and clicking buttons made his stomach flip just a little bit faster than usual.

…The stairs it is.

—

The bakery down the street was a favourite of his bosses, so Noah was there at least three times a week. By now, the cashiers knew him by name, but since neither Chris nor Chef could ever stick to a singular order, he was always ordering something new.

Today was no different, so when he opened the door with the gentle jingling of a bell, and stepped quietly into the store, the woman at the counter gave him a warm, bright smile, and waved him over.

“Noah!” She grinned, and he smiled back politely. “Good morning, what can I get for you today?”

“Hey, Cindy.” He spoke, and squinted down at the paper in his hand. “Can I get, uh, two of the blueberry turnovers, one of the baklavas, and, um, six of the… profiteroles?”

The cashier – Cindy – nodded, typing quickly into the register.

“Excellent choices! The blueberry turnovers haven’t quite come out of the ovens yet, but if you’re willing to wait five minutes then they’ll be nice and fresh for you?”

Noah knew she was only asking as a formality; one time he had waited a full hour for a fresh batch of lemon tarts, because Chris had specifically asked for them to be fresh. He had no issue with waiting five minutes for the turnovers to be done, so he simply nodded as he tapped his card on the reader.

Well, not his card, the Chris McLean Inc card, as he likes to call it.

“Perfect.” Cindy smiled as the reader flashed green with approval. “Why don’t you go sit down at one of the tables, I’ll call you when your order’s done.”

“Okay, cool.” Noah smiled, and moved to sink down in one of the metal chairs by the window. From the window, he could look out at the plaza that both the cafe, and his studio were located in; It was green, and colourful, with people bustling around and being busy in the middle of the street. He could see people walking their dogs, and he could hear the sound of birds chirping in the trees outside. As he stared, he could vaguely hear the sound of the doorbell ring once again, but he was too busy watching a mother and daughter walk arm in arm down the street to notice.

Noah doesn't often have time to watch people-watch, but whenever he has the opportunity to sit down by himself, he revels in it. Simply watching people walk by, living their lives without so much as noticing him, he finds it more fascinating than anything.

The store around him is quiet, and the lights above are just dim enough that the sunlight streaming through the windows casts warm rays across the surface of the table. It’s cool, and tranquil, and for a brief, tiny moment, Noah feels a little bit at peace with himself.

That is, until a series of sharp, confident steps echo across the store, and Noah barely has time for his stomach to fill with dread before a voice – a smooth, eloquent, familiar voice – flows through his ears like grease .

“Well, if it isn’t my dear Noah .” The voice speaks, and before he can stop himself, Noah whips his head around like he’s heard a gunshot. He may as well have, and the shot may as well have been aimed directly at his heart, because standing before him, dressed in familiar, heart-stopping red, and with hair as soft as feathers, is none other than-

“ Alejandro .” Noah breathes, white hot rage building in his chest as he speaks.

Alejandro grins, white canines flashing in the light of the sun, and hands placed tastefully on his hips.

It makes Noah want to curl in on himself like a pill-bug.

“Do you have time to chat? It seems we have lots of catching up to do.”

Chapter Text

“Do you have time to chat? It seems like we have lots of catching up to do.”

Alejandro Burromuerto looked almost exactly the same as he did the last time Noah saw him. His hair is still a deep brown, somehow lighter at the ends than at the roots, and he still wears the same blinding smile that exposes the canines he used to rip out people's throats with. He’s still wearing red, albeit in a slightly different outfit – red slacks instead of black, black shirt instead of red. – and his skin is still perfect ; perfectly shaven, not a mark in sight.

…Except for the long, white scar that runs down his neck from his jawline, and disappears under his shirt.

That makes him falter a little bit.

He looks almost exactly the same, and more than anything, Noah wants to get up and run . Forget the pastries, forget his job , anything was better than speaking to him again. Anything was better than getting his brain picked apart, and his heart wrenched out of his chest for the second time.

But instead, all he could do was glare at him, his stomach pooling with dread, as Alejandro stared down at him from only three metres away. As Noah stared, he realised that there was something in the other boy’s gaze that he couldn’t quite identify, something not quite condescending, but not cold enough to be rude.

It looked almost akin to curiosity, interest, warmth , but amidst the rapid beating of his heart, and the borderline fear activating his fight or flight response, he wasn’t able to tell.

“...Yeah, it’s been a while, huh?” Noah croaked, his voice somehow coming out even. Alejandro looked like he was about to say something, but then Noah continued, willing his voice to stay steady. “We haven’t- uh, spoken since London right?”

Alejandro raised an eyebrow, and shit, it almost made Noah feel like he was back on that fucking plane.

“Ah, I’m afraid you’re correct.” He started, and Noah watched as he inched closer to the empty seat across the table, almost as if he was afraid to sit down in it. As he should be, after the shit he pulled . He was smiling, although it seemed a little bit more nervous than it was before. “I didn’t manage to get a hold of your phone number after the show, much to my displeasure.”

This made Noah stiffen, and he narrowed his eyes as he stared up at him.

To his displeasure? What the fuck- He thought, and his gaze hardened.

“Yeah, well.” He coughed, and averted his eyes to the table in front of him. The glass glittered in the light of the sun, and he was suddenly struck with the realisation that it was eerily similar to the table he had sat at a year ago, when Chris McLean had strong-armed him into working for him again. “I, uh. I probably wouldn’t have wanted to talk to you anyway.”

Alejandro seemed to pause, and it made Noah’s heart skip a beat. He refused to meet his eyes, but when he turned back to look at him again – just to gauge his reaction to the comment, of course – the boy before him looked almost like somebody had stabbed him in the back with a blunt pocket knife.

But before he could say anything, the shocked expression on his face disappeared, and was replaced with one of worried sympathy.

No, it wasn’t sympathy. It was pity , and for a moment, it made Noah’s blood boil .

“...Ah. I can understand why.” Was all he said, and Noah frowned. The pity on the other boy’s face was slowly morphing into understanding, a look of revelation that sunk deep into his features, and made his eyes crease with a guilty looking frown.

…Frowning didn’t look very good on Alejandro, and when the pity was gone and the guilt remained, something in Noah’s brain sparked.

“But .” He hummed, and waved his hand in the air with nonchalance. At this, Alejandro’s eyes widened, only slightly, and his gaze flicked down to the chair opposite him. “It’s been, what, a year ? I haven’t thought about that show in months.”

A blatant lie if there ever was one, but there was something about the boy standing in front of him, in all of his 9am, money-stealing, pushing him into a pond full of electric eels glory that made Noah want to listen to him.

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” Noah nodded, a non-committal hum, an unconscious homage to his boss back at the office. “I’m just waiting on a couple of things, so, uh- I have time to chat, if you want.”

This made Alejandro beam , a smug, kind of all-knowing edge to his smile, but a smile all the same. He slid confidently into the seat opposite him as Noah pretended to check his phone, and he leaned forward, batting his eyelashes with a smirk. It almost made Noah roll his eyes, and he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Back in Jamaica, you mentioned that you lived in Quebec, yes? What are you doing out here in Ontario?” He mused, and he rested his chin on his hands, and rested his elbows on the table. The questioning tone in his voice made Noah’s skin crawl… but not in the horrified way that it might have at the beginning of their conversation.

…Moreso in a kind of abject-terror, if you were to ask him.

“Ah, y’know, I moved out here for work.” He hummed, and crossed his arms, subtly leaning backwards in the chair. “Gotta take any job you can get in this economy, right? I didn’t think you lived around here, either.”

Alejandro smirked, and shrugged. When his shoulders moved, the collar of his shirt slipped down and more of the long healed over scar became visible to the morning light. It was even, and straight, but it didn’t seem to have an end, or at least, no end that Noah could see. It made his eyebrows furrow; how had he gotten a scar like that? But when Alejandro started to speak again, his eyes shot back up to his face.

“I did not, until last week.” He spoke, and Noah raised a curious eyebrow. At the sight of his obvious interest, Alejandro’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly, and he let out a comical sigh, which in turn made some of the hesitancy disappear from Noah’s stomach. “It was not entirely by choice, but when your roommate is as- ah, convincing as mine, sometimes it’s easier to simply go along with their plans…”

“Sounds like an interesting roommate.” Noah smiled, and Alejandro nodded with a sigh.

“Truly, I've never met anyone like her.” He hummed dryly, and turned to gaze out the window. But Noah’s gaze shot up, and he raised a surprised eyebrow.

… She? He thought as he watched the other boy’s gaze dance around the store. No, surely not-

A silence stretched between them, cold and uncomfortable, as Noah continued to stare. Whether or not Alejandro noticed, he wasn’t sure, because after a few moments, he cleared his throat, and spoke again.

“...Your roommate, are you two, uh, more than just… roommates? ”

For a second, Alejandro didn’t react, but then almost instantaneously, a horrified, incredulous look appeared on his face and he began to shake his head like he was denying a murder allegation.

“No, no! Not in a million years, mi amigo. How did you- Was it the ‘she’?” He laughed, closing his eyes as if to shake away the simple thought of it, before he opened them again with another bark of laughter.

“Oh my god. ” He muttered, being drowned out by the sound of Alejandro’s incredulous laughing. Noah felt his face grow red with sheer embarrassment, and he guiltily tugged at the collar of his shirt as he stared down at the table, but he could feel something… shift. The passive hostility radiating from the air around them seemed to dissipate, and Noah felt some of the stress in his shoulders loosen as he watched Alejandro grin at him. The sight reminded him of flying; of late nights awake in a plane's cargo, only the dim light of flashlights and calloused hands to guide them up the stairs. It reminded him of the ocean, of being pulled into boats and the sound of ores against splashing waves. It reminded him of snow, of sun, of a warmth he hadn’t realised he missed.

It made something in Noah’s heart clench, and when Alejandro’s laughs subsided, he tilted his head and stared at him almost adoringly.

“Trust me, there is nothing happening between us, not anymore.”

“Not anymore?” He leaned forward, and to his surprise, Alejandro only rolled his eyes in exasperation. No defensiveness, no denial, nothing. “Hold on, how many girlfriends have you had since the show ended, huh? Does the title of ‘almost-millionaire’ appeal to the ladies?”

Alejandro opened his mouth to reply, before a realisation dawned on his face, and he simply raised an eyebrow at Noah, who tilted his head, waiting for an answer.

“Noah, I have had one girlfriend since the end of the show, and even that is debatable.” He mused, and Noah furrowed his eyebrows.

“Who was it?” He questioned, and a confused, almost exasperated look appeared on the others face, like he had very clearly spelled it out and he still wasn’t getting it.

“Noah, I’m talking about Heather.” He spoke, and Noah frowned. Heather was-

Holy shit .

“You actually dated Heather after the show?!” He blurted out, gaping as Alejandro rolled his eyes again. “You’re joking, I thought she was- She’s your roommate? And you’re telling me she lives here now? With you? Christ, did you even tell anyone you were moving?”

As he rambled, Alejandro had been watching him with an entertained, yet fond expression on his face, nodding along to each question and smiling the whole way, but when he stopped talking, Alejandro looked at him questioningly.

“...Tell anyone?”

“Y’know, the rest of the Total Drama cast? Half of us live within 15 kilometres of here.” He gestured around with his hand and frowned when Alejandro furrowed his eyebrows. “You didn’t know?”

“I- ah. I do not talk to many of our former castmates, so no, I did not.” He hummed, and Noah watched as the cogs turned in Alejandro’s head. The confused expression on his face suggested that he really didn’t know, but he found it hard to believe that Heather didn’t at least have some idea.

Either way, before he could ask, Cindy’s voice bounced across the store from the counter, a cheery interruption that he wasn’t sure was a blessing or a curse.

“Hey, Noah, turnovers are ready! Better hurry back so they’re warm for your boss!”

Noah froze, glancing between the cashier at the front, who was placing the pastries carefully into small cardboard boxes, and Alejandro, who was starting right back at him with those glittering green eyes, tinged with surprise, and something that seemed almost like regret.

There was a small part of him that wanted to stay, to forget the pastries, to forget his job, and lean forward and smile at Alejandro. He wanted to stay, to learn about the person he’s become in the year they’ve been apart, to hear his stories and about his life, to feel the way he used to feel back on that god-forsaken plane.

…But the overwhelming part of him was telling him to stand up, walk out the door, and never turn back to him.

So he sighed, and hoisted himself up from the chair, sending Alejandro an apologetic look as he did. The other boy frowned, but simply watched as he walked over to the counter, carefully picking up the boxes, murmuring a thankyou to Cindy, and walking back, stopping a metre or so away from him.

If he didn’t know any better – If he didn’t know how brilliantly Alejandro could put a facade, that is. – he would say that Alejandro’s expression was almost sad, a whisper of melancholy gracing his otherwise perfect features.

“It was… It was good to see you again.” He muttered, quiet enough that only Alejandro would be able to hear him. Alejandro stared up at him, blinking slowly.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and Noah considered just walking away, not giving him the opportunity to respond, if only to save himself the time. But after a few seconds, Alejandro took a breath, and spoke once again.

“Can I tell you a secret, Noah? Make a confessional, if you will.”

Noah couldn't decide whether to laugh at the joke, or frown.

“...Shoot.” He said, and Alejandro hesitated for a moment, before he sat up straight, and Noah was staring directly into his eyes.

Green, like pools of olive oil, acid, grease, he’s a fucking eel-

“I’ve missed speaking to you.” He spoke, cutting off Noah’s train of thought and leaving him with tv static. Each word was careful, precise, and full of that flirting tone Noah remembered all too well. It made his head spin, not the words, but the familiarity of the voice. “Truly, ever since the end of the competition-”

Noah was going to be sick.

“-I have regretted not getting your contact details every day we have been apart.”

It was the exact same tone he used when talking to the other contestants on the show, the ones he threw off the plane only hours after sweet talking them into messing up the challenges. Undying flattery, an air of respect, manipulation under the guise of sweet molasses. It was so familiar, like he was watching a recording of an old tv show…

But Noah blinked, hard , and stared down at the boy in front of him.

He looked the same as he did a year ago, but he couldn’t deny that something was different. The air around him was warmer, and the creases around his eyes were more defined. He held himself with an air of grace different from the air of authority he used to, and his lips weren’t fixed into that permanent showbiz smile.

“...You want my number?” Noah pursed his lips, and tried to stop the thoughts from racing around his head any further. When he watched a smile tug at the corner of Alejandro’s lips, he already knew what his answer was going to be.

“If you would give it to me, Noah, I would be delighted.”

For a moment, Noah paused, but then he hesitantly held out his hand for Alejandro’s phone.

“...Alright, give me your phone.” Was all he said, and Alejandro, upon realisation that he was actually agreeing, quickly opened it to a new contact, and placed it in his outstretched hands like he was handing over a christmas gift. Noah quickly typed in his number, double checking to make sure it was correct, before he typed his name in the contact box, and handed it back over.

Alejandro stared down at the screen in his hands for a few seconds, almost mesmerised, before he looked back up at Noah once again.

“...I should go, boss is waiting, y’know?” Noah spoke, turning on his heel before Alejandro could say anything. Behind him, he heard Alejandro let out a chuckle, a warm, almost relieved chuckle.

“Goodbye, Noah.” He called, and Noah looked back, just a minuscule amount, to see him leaning back in his chair, right leg tossed over his left knee, and a delighted smirk resting on his lips. His throat was dry, so he threw a hand over his shoulder in farewell. Alejandro’s goodbye was followed by another few words that made Noah roll his eyes. “I’ll text you, mi amigo!”

“Sure, whatever…” He muttered, and pushed open the door with his hips, before he started down the street once again.

The walk back to the studio was almost a blur. The sky above was blue, cloudless, and the sun shone down onto the pavement. Noah’s feet fell into a steady rhythm as he watched the studio building grow larger and larger in front of him, and the cardboard boxes were smooth against his hands, the corners rubbing against the sleeves of his shirt and digging into his arms. every few seconds, he had to stop himself from spinning around and frantically searching for Alejandro’s figure. He felt a little bit like Orpheus, resisting the urge to turn around and embrace his dead wife, or he would, if Eurydice in this scenario was a man he feared would try and push him out of a flying plane.

He tapped his card at the studio door, and watched as the glass frames slid open, revealing the foyer of what he had lovingly (not.) dubbed ‘Sadism Enterprises’. The familiar smell was almost comforting, and since he had left, someone had turned on the heating, which meant that the inside of the building was almost ten times as warm as the frosty morning outside. Noah didn’t even bother walking towards the elevator, instead moving straight towards the stairs and beginning the several storey climb up to the 6th floor. He had already thought about the Jumbo Jet enough today, so the exercise remained his only option.

It didn’t take him long, with all the practice he’s had, so when he reached the 6th floor, and walked out of the stairwell with pastry boxes in hand, he was greeted by the familiar sound of telephone calls and chattering co-workers. Well, only a few co-workers. Frown where he walked, he could see a group of three huddled around a desk, and a man sitting – or rather laying – in an office chair, nursing a cup of coffee like it was his first born child.

Chris was sitting exactly where he had been when he had left, except this time, Chef was sitting with him, nodding along as the host rambled on about something he couldn’t quite make out. When he looked up, catching sight of Noah, he grinned, and gestured him over excitedly.

“Noah!” He grinned, and Noah rolled his eyes.

“You’ve already greeted me enthusiastically.” He groaned as Chef reached out to ruffle his hair. He let it happen, and he placed the pastry boxes on the desk in front of them with a sigh. “Pastries. I had to wait for the turnovers, so they should still be warm.”

Chris simply started digging through the boxes, and chef grinned.

“Thanks, kid.” He smiled, and Noah watched for a moment as turned to look at Chris, rolling his eyes.

“No problem.” He muttered, and when the two seemed thoroughly absorbed in their baked goods, he stealthily pulled his phone out of his pocket, and glanced down at the screen.

Noah’s brow furrowed, and he gripped the phone a little tighter in his hands.

1 new text: Unknown number.

Unknown number:

This is Alejandro, have a wonderful day at work my friend!

‘Friend’ was stretching it, but Noah relaxed his grip and let out a breath, sliding his phone back into his pocket. This is a worry for Future-Noah.

—

Noah’s apartment is cosy. There are windows on every wall, and the hardwood floors make it so he can slide across the entire space without lifting his feet from the floor. He keeps it warm, and since it’s a rather small apartment, it doesn’t cost him nearly as much as it could have.

The bookshelves that line the walls are filled with books and trinkets, and there’s actually furniture, courtesy of his eight sisters, who took him thrift shopping when they came to visit after saying that they refused to let him live in one of those ‘weird single man’ apartments. Noah had almost enthusiastically agreed, as simply the thought of anybody finding out he lived in a ‘bachelor pad’ made him want to crawl into an early grave. The chairs around the dining table aren’t from the same set, And he has three, mismatched armchairs and a couch placed around the miniature living room space.

The exposed walls are covered in wall art and paintings, and various rugs litter the ground, leaving a path of hardwood from one side of the apartment to the other.

It’s comforting; an academic’s dream.

He can remember when Izzy, Eva, and Owen came to visit for the first time. He had been the last member of Team E-Scope to move out to Ontario, and when he announced that he was finally joining them, despite still being a teenager himself, they had been so excited he hadn’t known how to react. The three of them were rendered almost-speechless when they first saw it, Eva fully walking out and walking back in again to make sure she was seeing it correctly.

Izzy had grinned, full-on launching herself onto one of the armchairs and doing a back-handspring onto the couch, exclaiming something about how he had ‘the best house ever.’

Owen had gone straight to the kitchen in an attempt to ensure that he had the ingredients to stop himself from starving to death while living on his own.

It had made him feel very loved, especially when the four of them all passed out on the sofa that night, finished bowls of popcorn and an unfinished Batman movie playing in the background as they slept. 

When Gwen had first come over to visit, only a week or two after team E-Scope, it had been very much the same. She had gone flicking through the bookshelves and playfully argued with him about his taste as he made them tea, and then they had spent several hours simply sitting in each other's company; Noah with his newest book, and Gwen with her oil paints. (From this first visit, he had received a new piece of wall art; Gwen’s oil painting of his bookshelves, illuminated in the dying sunlight, that she had lovingly named ‘Bad taste is better than no taste at all’.)

He hadn’t expected to become such close friends with Gwen after World Tour, but ever since she walked into the aftermath studio, locking eyes with him from across the floor, he had been able to feel a mutual connection, an understanding, grow between them.

A mutual loss this season, of something they hadn’t had before.

But as well as that, they had sarcastically bonded over the matching scars they both had from their encounters with electric eels. Gwen from Jamaica, after she had dived off the cliff, and him from right after his elimination, where he had landed in a pool of them without a parachute.

…He doesn’t like to think about that bit. It, without fail, ruins his day.

Since then, he’s had a few visitors over. Cody and Harold stopped by together on a Drama Brothers tour, for a look-around and a chat, and Bridgette and Geoff had shown up one day, out of the blue, completely wasted, to sleep on his couch for a night. (How they got his address, he’s not entirely sure, but he is entirely sure that it had something to do with the infamous Total Drama gossip chain. This was only reinforced by the fact that he had gotten a bunch of texts from other contestants only a week after he first moved in, congratulating him on the apartment.)

But aside from the regulars, Noah’s apartment remains resoundingly his own, and that’s exactly the way he likes it.

On this particular day, the moment he entered his apartment, he walked right over to the burgundy couch, and collapsed.

“ What a fucking day …” He groaned, and buried his face in the cushions. It smelled vaguely like cigarette smoke, something that he hadn't been able to erase despite the several specialised cleanings it had gone through.

Sure, the majority of the day had been normal; trailing after Chris and Chef, doing paperwork, answering emails, running errands, the usual . But despite the typical day, it felt like everything had just been a little off balance, tilted to the side, slightly off kilter, and Noah knew exactly why:

He couldn't get the thought of Alejandro’s sudden appearance out of his head.

How did he not know that he was here? Why is he still roommates with Heather of all people? And probably his biggest question: why the hell is he even here at all?

He rolled onto his back, and stared up at the ceiling with a sigh. It was painted an off-white colour, with an older, kind of chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He didn’t know the answer to any of these questions, but he sure as hell had a way of finding out.

Before he could change his mind about engaging in the one thing (Not the only thing, but one of the biggest.) he had promised himself he would try to avoid, he pulled out his phone, ignoring Alejandro’s text message (Which he still hadn’t opened.) and sending two, not quite reluctant, messages.

One being to Owen:

Me - 6:01pm

Dinner at my place tonight?

Which was answered instantly with a:

O - 6:01pm

!!!

Half an hour!!

Ill bring snacks :3

And the other to Gwen, who took a little bit longer to respond:

Me - 6:03pm

Hey, wanna come over for dinner? Making pasta with Owen and something's happened.

Gwendy - 6:13pm 

Smtn happened??

Sounds serious

Supposed to meet Cody in 10

Can i bring him

Me - 6:13pm

Yeah.

Wait, why Cody?

Fill me in when you get here.

Gwendy - 6:14pm

It is NOT a big deal

But alr

Ill grab snacks??

Me - 6:14pm

Owen’s got that covered.

Gwendy - 6:15pm

Ofc he does lmao

Noah placed the phone down on the coffee table, and let out another long, tired sigh.

Before long, there were three loud raps on the door, and he was pulled from his place on the couch by the sound of three voices outside making loud conversation. In a few short steps, he was swinging open the mahogany door, and staring into the smiling faces of Owen, Gwen, and Cody.

“Noah!” Owen grinned, and strolled into the apartment like it was his own. From the amount of time he’s spent here, it’s not really an unfair claim. He looked the same as he always did, tousled hair and a warm, broad smile on his face. “What am i- whoops, I mean what are we making for dinner, buddy?”

Noah grinned, and ushered the other two into the apartment before he closed the door.

“I was thinking pasta?” He said, cringing at the way his voice tilted upwards at the end of his scentace. But Owen simply grinned, and wrapped him in a short, bone crushing hug, before he kicked off his shoes as made his way to the kitchen. 

“Alright, dude!”

Noah sighed, and rolled his eyes as a hand clapped him on the back.

“Noah, man, haven’t seen you in ages! ” Cody grinned, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Gwen snorted and crossed her arms, a fond-ish smile sitting on her face.

“We went out to lunch two weeks ago, Cody.” He replied dryly, but obliged when he leaned in closer for a hug. Cody had always been a touchy person, something Noah had learned during their first week of Total Drama Island. The smile on Cody’s face as he returned the gesture made Noah feel a little bit less rattled. When Cody frowned, an obvious façade over his glee, Noah simply chuckled.

“Yeah, but that was like, weeks ago.” He groaned, and went to flop down onto the couch Noah had only recently been lying on.

“Yeah, two .” He hummed, and turned to face Gwen with a raised eyebrow. She was toeing her shoes off at the door. For the first time in a while, she wasn’t wearing a pair of platform boots, but rather a pair of loafers; well worn and creasing. When she looked up, she met his questioning glance with a smirk.

“Hey.” He smiled, and Noah gestured behind them to where Cody was sprawled over the couch. “It’s not at all what you think it is, trust me.”

“Come on I get it , after the whole Duncan thing, you totally deserve a rebound. I just didn’t think you’d go sniffing after Mr. ‘ Has tried and failed to seduce you like twenty times ’, especially considering the Sierra situation.”

Gwen sighed, lightly punching him in the shoulder as she began to walk to the kitchen behind Owen. The smile didn’t leave her face, but she had an air of content-exasperation hovering around her, as if there was something she wanted to say, but hadn’t. Noah followed after her, shuffling his socks along the hardwood and sitting himself on one of the counter stools on the far side of the small kitchen island.

“Okay first of all, Cody is not my rebound, and we are not dating at all.” She said decisively, seemingly grimacing simply at the thought of it. “We were going out to dinner because Sierra’s trying this new ‘exposure therapy’ thing on herself where she makes Cody go out with other people. It’s helping her with the jealousy thing.”

She spoke the words like it was the simplest thing in the world and for a moment, Noah tilted his head in confusion, before his eyes widened in realisation.

“ Oh .” He hummed, nodding slightly as he remembered a conversation he had had with Trent a few weeks ago, where he had mentioned that Sierra was ‘taking steps’ to deal with the Jealousy that seemed to plague her almost constantly. “I remember Trent mentioning something about her trying to fix that… Jesus, that’s a weird way of going about it.”

Gwen snorted, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter.

“ Right ? But apparently it’s working , or at least Cody says so.”

“Izzy said she was doing a lot better, too!” Owen grinned, placing down an assortment of ingredients down in front of them. How he managed to make pasta complicated, Noah could never figure it out, but at least he knew that it would be good. “She says she’s not getting upset when Cody doesn’t text her for a few days, which is progress!”

Behind them, Cody let out a relieved sigh, and walked over to sit on the other barstool next to him.

“Progress? More like luxury .” He grinned, and Noah couldn’t stop the bark of laughter from escaping his throat. It was obvious that Owen and Gwen couldn’t either, because the two of them burst into a fit of giggles much louder than his own.

The most important thing that Noah has learned since moving to Ontario, is that the Total Drama Gossip chain is not to be underestimated. He’s watched first hand as information has been spread amongst the former castmates like wildfire; He had known about Justin’s broken nose before he had even made it out of the hospital, he had told Eva about somebody almost hitting him with their car, and not six minutes later, Duncan had texted him asking if he needed to slash some tires for him.

Honestly, it was a miracle that he hadn’t heard about Heather and Alejandro’s move yet, simply the fact that he hadn’t made him more confused than over why they had moved in the first place.

But that could only mean one thing; Neither Heather nor Alejandro had told anybody at all… And since Alejandro had told him, it was his turn to hold up his link in the chain.

As they sat, chatting amongst themselves as Owen made the pasta, interjecting into the conversation with his own additions every now and then, Noah tried to think of a way to bring this up without mentioning the fact that he was now the sole-possessor (Besides Heather, he assumed.) Of Alejandro’s phone number. He was the only former contestant that had been almost completely cut off from the rest of them, and considering the fact that several members of the cast were still adamantly friends with Heather , he was starting to think it was by choice.

But as he thought, he also listened. He learned that Dj and Katie had started talking to each other recently, in a way that made Cody wriggle his eyebrows uncomfortably. Noah figured it was about time, he had seen the way they stared at each other back on Playa Des Losers. Owen told them, rather alarmingly, that Izzy had been arrested for vandalism and trespassing three days prior, but since it was her first offence in the area (How it was only her first, Noah didn’t know.) Eva had been able to bail her out in a couple of hours.

Gwen spent several minutes simply gushing about how Courtney had finally started talking to her again after she very publicly dumped Duncan over half a year prior, and Owen had almost dropped the pot of pasta onto the ground when she mentioned that they were going to see a movie next Tuesday.

Gwen also mentioned that Lindsay had finally met Tyler's parents, and it actually went better than either of them had expected, (Multiple people had coached her ahead of time about not forgetting Tyler's name, despite her not having forgotten it since World Tour ended.) which basically meant that she had gotten his name right the entire time. And, despite the fact that this was already widely known information, they all gaped about the latest news about Geoff and Bridgette: their breakup .

Supposably, it had been pretty uncomplicated, but Owen and Gwen had bets on them getting back together by the end of the month, while himself and Cody believed that it was over for good.

Whatever the outcome, the Total Drama gossip chain was doing it’s work, and by the time there was a lapse in conversation, big enough for Noah to assemble his nerve and say what he was meaning to, they were all sitting around the small living room eating their pasta; Gwen on the floor, Owen and Noah on the couch, and Cody on the closest armchair.

The room was quiet except for the clinking of plates and cutlery, when Noah cleared his throat.

“Uh.” He started, and swallowed his piece of pasta, It was what Owen called ‘Miracle Pasta’. He wasn’t entirely sure what he put in it, other than some kind of tomato sauce and a little bit of white wine. He didn’t really care, honestly, it tasted godly. The three other pairs of eyes turned to look at him expectedly, and he nervously scratched at the electric-eel scars peeking out from under his collar. “...Have any of you heard from Heather lately?”

Owen shook his head, but Cody nodded, and Gwen raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she’s in town for a little bit, I think. She asked if we wanted to get coffee while she was here.” He hummed, pointing between him and Gwen before shoving another piece of pasta in his mouth. When Noah tilted his head, Gwen narrowed her eyes.

“Is this about the thing you said happened?” She questioned and Noah paused.

…He didn’t want to keep this a secret any longer. He could feel his fingers starting to shake, whether it be from the excitement of keeping it for this long, or from anxiousness about how the others would take it, or simply from the stress he felt about recalling the morning conversation in the first place, he wasn’t sure. But what he was sure about, was that he was going to tell them now .

“Maybe. Yes, it does.” Noah placed the bowl down on the coffee table, and clasped his hands together. “Actually, did you guys know she’s moved here?”

He watched Cody freeze, his eyes locked onto him with so much shock and confusion that for a second, he doubted that what he was saying was even true. Owen opened his mouth to speak, before on the ground, Gwen was so shocked that she choked on a piece of pasta.

“Shit.” Owen snorted, and handed her Noah’s glass of water, before he began gently patting her back with a laugh.

Cody just continued to stare at him, dumbfounded, as Gwen managed to choke out a sputtered;

“What the fuck ?”

Noah nodded.

“Yeah, like last week. She didn’t tell you?”

“Did she tell you ?” Cody finally spoke, raising both his eyebrows and leaning forward intently, like he was a detective in a bad 90’s film. “How do you know that?”

“I spoke to her roommate this morning.” Was all he said, and Owen narrowed his eyes.

Noah realised, or, perhaps he already knew, that he wasn't going to be able to get out of this one without telling them the entire story.

“...Who’s Heather’s roommate?” Owen asked, and there was a brief pause, before Noah let out a defeated sigh.

“Alejandro.”

This time, Gwen choked on the water that she was drinking, accidentally spraying it over the surface of the coffee table and coughing her lungs out as Owen let out a gasp so loud he’s sure the neighbours heard it. Cody let out a yell, and almost knocked his entire bowl of pasta onto the floor.

“ Burromuerto?! ”

“Al?!”

"As in Alejandro -Alejandro?! Like the guy that almost set me on fire in the semi final?!”

“Like the guy that got you shoved out of a plane ?!”

“When?!”

"Where?! ”

Noah thought he was about to lose it, when Gwen slammed her fist on the coffee table, and, letting out a final cough, turned to stare at him incredulously.

“Noah.” She spoke, her voice almost entirely serious, save for a sliver of excitement she didn’t manage to conceal. “You’re not kidding?”

“I’m telling the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth.” He held up his hand, and watched as Cody whipped out his phone from his pocket, and began rapidly typing something. Gwen blinked, dumbfounded, before she launched herself up onto the couch between him and Owen.

“What the fuck happened?!” She gaped, and Owen nodded vigorously. Noah sighed.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders simply by telling them, but in doing so, he had set himself up for a recount of the entire thing.

“I was going out to buy pastries for Chris and Chef at that little bakery near work.” He spoke, and at the mention of Chris’s name, the three others wrinkled their noses. He continued. “And I have to wait for a while because the turnovers Chef likes weren’t ready, so I sit down at one of the tables, and it’s so peaceful , and everything is fine, until I hear the clicking of those fucking shoes on the tile-”

At these words, Gwen let out a groan, flopping backwards and resting her head on the back of the couch. It’s obvious that she knows exactly what he means. It seemed like Cody did, too, because he did almost exactly the same thing. Owen imitated the sound by clicking his fork on the wooden coffee table, which elicited a laugh from both of the others. So Noah kept talking.

“-And I look up, and standing there is fucking Alejandro Burromuetto , grinning, like the last time we spoke to each other wasn’t when he voted for me to get pushed out of an airplane.”

“Amen, it’s because he sucks.” Gwen scowled.

“He’s a wolf in sheep's clothing.” Owen mused, grinning as the rest of them rolled their eyes.

“A pocket-knife at a fist fight?” Cody added, and Noah ran a hand through his hair in fond exasperation.

“An eel dipped in grease .” He finalised, and Cody started to giggle just as Owen let out another snort. Gwen only grinned, and gestured for him to continue. “I was seriously considering just leaving, but then he said he regretted not getting my phone number after the show, so I kind of said he could sit down? I don’t know, but we started talking about how I didn’t think he lived here, and he said that he hadn’t until like a week ago-”

“ No. ”

“ Yeah . So I ask why he moved, and he said that his roommate borderline forced him too, and so I asked about his roommate, and he called them ‘ She ’ so I assumed the roommate was like, a girlfriend or something, but-” He paused, taking a breath to internally cringe at himself. “-He said that she wasn’t his girlfriend, and that they weren’t romantically involved anymore- ”

“Anymore??” Cody gaped.

“-And so I said something like; ‘How many people have you dated since the show ended.’ and he said one, but it was complicated, so I asked who , because that’s obviously what you ask in that situation, and he- He looked at me like I was an idiot . Then, he said that that person was Heather, and then I realised that they were living together, because he phrased it like- like-” He didn’t finish the sentence, instead staring down at the coffee table, and glancing around the circle.

They all looked absolutely floored. Cody was staring at him like he’d seen a ghost, Gwen stared at him like he was one of the horsemen of the apocalypse, and Owen was staring at him like he had single handedly hung the stars in the sky. He was about to open his mouth to start speaking again, before his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, and looking down at the screen, he let out a mortified hum.

New Text- Unknown Number.

Did you tell somebody that Heather and I moved? She’s getting congratulations messages?

The Total Drama gossip chain works its magic without fail.

“...Who’s texting you? Did Sierra text you about it immediately? Jesus, I thought-” Gody grimaced, being shocked out of his dumbfounded state by his own phone vibrating. Noah, without thinking, shook his head.

“No, it’s Alejandro, he wants to know if I-” And he slapped a hand over his mouth, and instantly, Owen leaned across the couch, catching his wrists in his hands, and gaping at him. Gwen let out a borderline shriek, and all-but toppled off the couch.

“Do you have his phone number ?!” Owen yelled, and Noah tried to raise his arms over his head in defence, but he couldn’t, with Owen practically restraining him.

“Yes!” He almost yelled back, and Gwen scrambled for her phone, which was laying on the carpet next to where she had been sitting. “I didn’t- He said he missed talking to me and I caved…”

The last part of his sentence was said with a groan, and when Owen started laughing hysterically, letting go of his wrists, he buried his face in his hands. He should have realised that it would be more than embarrassing to tell them this, but alas, all self preservation is thrown out the window when advice is needed.

“I knew you were super into him back on the show, but now? He pushed you out of a plane , dude, into a lake full of electric eels .” Gwen cringed, reaching over to pull up the hem of Noah’s shirt, and exposing jagged lines of electrical scars along his torso. He hadn’t known that electric eels were able to leave scars like that on a person, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Chris had genetically modified them, just so they would leave a lasting impact on whoever landed in that god-forsaken pond. Noah rolled his eyes, noncommittally tugging his shirt back down. They had all seen the marks at some point or another, there wasn’t much of a point in hiding them from these three in particular.

“Okay, I wasn’t into him .” He frowned, and dropped his head back on the couch. “I just thought he was…attractive, and those are not the same thing.”

Cody raised an incredulous eyebrow, and Owen just let out a mocking laugh. Gwen nodded sarcastically.

“ Sure .” She hummed, staring up at him from her position on the floor once again. Her eyes were light with mischief, and obvious amusement at the recent turn of events. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious! And I did not give him my number because I'm into him, I gave it to him because he was practically begging for it.” He scowled, and at the series of ‘ oooooh ’s that came from the other three, he willed himself to sink further into the couch. “I brought this up for advice , you guys are not providing that.”

“That’s because you haven’t given us anything to give advice on.” Owen grinned, and Noah suddenly realised that ah , he hadn’t.

“He’s right, but c’mon, we give great advice! Hit us.” Cody edged forwards in his chair, and Gwen leaned upwards, nodding along.

Noah hesitated, but with a sigh, he pulled the phone from his pocket and turned the screen towards them.

“...How do I respond to Alejandro’s texts?” He spoke, drawing out the words like it physically pained him to say it. Almost instantly, Owen’s eyes lit up, Gwen let out a quiet gasp, and Cody burst into another fit of laughter. It was obvious that none of them were expecting that to be the thing that he needed advice with, but from the looks of it, it was much better than whatever they thought it was going to be.

…That being said, the way they all perked up at the words like school children made his heart race, and when Cody plucked the phone out of his hand, and scrolling through his now steadily-increasing notifications so that he could read the texts without actually opening them, Noah realised that he had a long, long night ahead of him.

—

Several hours later, when the sun has set well below the horizon and the stars shine in the sky, Noah is bundled under the several doona covers that litter his bed, and is holding his phone out in front of him like his life depends on him answering a text message.

He’s kind of starting to think it does.

Noah had spent the last several hours listening to his three friends discuss how he should respond to Alejandro’s texts. He had typed out draft after draft in his notes app, and had eventually deleted them all over and over again. After a while, they had decided that they weren’t getting anywhere, and they should reconvene later, when half of them didn’t have to work the next day, and talk about it more then. 

They had placed the rest of the pasta in tupperware containers and stacked them inside Noah’s fridge, and they had slipped on their shoes and slowly bid goodbye to the apartment, until he was left sitting by himself on the couch. They were going to go out to lunch sometime in a few weeks, but until then, Noah had one simple task to complete:

Text Alejandro.

So after a long, hot shower where he practically scrubbed his skin raw, he dressed himself in old pyjamas and bundled up under the covers. He had changed his sheets only the day before, so they were cool and clean against his skin. For a moment, he just continued to stare at the screen like he had seen a ghost, before he took a deep, deep breath, and slid open the text messages before he could change his mind.

The messages read the exact same as they did when he read them in his notifications, spread several hours apart, and almost nauseating enough to make Noah throw the phone across the room. Instead of doing that, however, he clicked on the number and added in a contact name; putting a name to the words, or whatever.

Alejandro - 9:23am

This is Alejandro, have a wonderful day at work my friend!

Alejandro - 7:54pm

Did you tell somebody that Heather and I moved? She’s getting congratulations messages?

Noah let out a sigh. He almost didn’t want to answer, to instead crush his hope of reconciliation with a mere press of the block button. But there was something about the fellow contestant and the genuinely regretful look in his eyes that morning that made him harden his gaze with determination, and he, once again before he had a chance to change his mind, typed out a series of texts and hurriedly pressed ‘send’.

Me - 11:03pm

Hey, sorry for the late reply, I've been out all day.

Oh shit

I’m sorry, I told a couple of people but I didn’t expect them to snitch that quickly smh

Is she pissed? And does she know we met?

The third text was a bold-faced lie if he had ever told one, but he was about to put his phone on the nightstand and pass out for the night, when it instantly buzzed with a reply.

Already ? He thought, and to his surprise, it truly was from Alejandro.

Alejandro - 11:04pm

That’s no problem at all! How was your day, did your boss enjoy the turnovers?

She isn’t mad, through your concern is appreciated xx

Moreso amazed for some reason, something about a Total Drama Gossip Chain?

And yes she does know, I told her the moment I arrived home.

Noah snorted, reading over the string of messages and typing a quick reply.

Me - 11:05

He did, honestly it’s weird how much he loves them lmao, work was good

Wait where do you work???

Oh my god the TDGC

It’s genuinely a curse, I don’t think any information has ever been kept private for as long as your move was lmfao

Tell her i say hi

Once again, the reply came almost instantly.

Alejandro - 11:05pm

I’m not working right now, my parents are currently funding my college education.

Does everybody's personal information get spread around like this? Who did you even tell?

There was a brief pause, and Noah began to type out his return message, before another one popped up, and he rolled his eyes with a grin.

Alejandro - 11:06pm

Heather says ‘go jump in a lake and drown, nerd’

Sierra’s bothering her about getting coffee now that she’s here.

Me - 11:06.

That's cool holy shit, what’re you studying??

Literally yes, the moment i signed the lease on the apartment, i got a text from Lindsay telling me congratulations

And i hadn’t spoken to her directly in months

Uhhh

Just Owen, Gwen, and Cody?

I think Cody told Sierra though, sorry bout that lmao

And isn’t she already getting coffee with Cody and Gwen sometime this week? Tell her to bring Sierra along or smtn.

This time, Alejandro took a little bit longer to respond.

Alejandro - 11:12pm

How did you know about that??

Wait

Total drama gossip chain, nevermind.

Was spending time with Cody part of the Sierra ‘exposure therapy’ thing?

I’m attempting a history degree at the moment

Me - 11:13pm

HUH.

You’re already a willing participant in the gossip chain Alejandro. I don't know what to tell you.

Knowing about the Sierra exposure therapy?? You’re already a goner.

Alejandro - 11:13pm

Shit.

I am NOT stooping down to that level.

How could you even accuse me of that, Noah :(

Noah realised that he was staring fondly down at the phone in his hands, so he shook his head and blinked so hard he might have popped his own eyeballs. There was no room for getting soft over the guy who shoved him out of a plane, no room at all .

For a couple of moments, he didn’t reply, and instead just lay there, staring at the texts. He could imagine that from a distance away, his face would be the only thing visible in the dark room. His features illuminated by the blue light of the screen, the texts reflected in the pupils of his eyes.

He should go to bed so that he has enough energy to haul himself to work tomorrow. Gemmie nominations come out in three days, and practically the entire studio is on the edge of losing their shit; He’s been picking up more work than usual, so he can envision another long day tomorrow; filled with paperwork and running useless errands.

After the morning he had today, however, and the complete loop it threw him for, he’s almost looking forward to the repetitive day. At least it would mean he knew what to expect. So Noah typed out a few final messages, then set the phone on the bed beside him, and rolled over to look up at the ceiling.

Me - 11:17pm

Too late, eel, you’re one of us again xx

I’m going to sleep, gotta get up early smh

Goodnight.

The moment he put it down, the screen lit up again, and he couldn’t resist bringing it up to his face one final time with a sigh.

Alejandro - 11:17pm

Sleep well!

Let us talk more tomorrow, we have much catching up to do :) 

Noah let out a sigh, one all-too happy for his liking. There wasn’t anything he could do now except sleep, but lingering at the back of his mind as he blindly plugged the charger into his phone, was a small, tiny feeling of excitement.

For what, he wasn’t entirely sure. But whatever it was, it would have to wait until morning, because the moment he tucked his arms under the covers and rested his head on his pillow, Noah was out faster than a blown-out candle.

Chapter Text

The next couple of days functioned almost normally, except for the added bonus (Or curse, Noah hasn’t decided yet.) of a few extra text messages every second hour.

He was still sent off on almost pointless errands; Chef asking him to run down to the store and pick up the ‘good’ pens, Chris making him check the Revenge of the Island ratings every ten minutes, that kind of stuff. But whenever he’d check his phone, instead of an empty screen, a twitter notification, or texts from Gwen, Owen or the rest of team E-scope, he would almost always be met with a text from Alejandro.

During a bathroom break, he’ll check his phone and see Alejandro’s contact popping up with an anecdote about how his day’s been going, or a question about his own. Something about it makes Noah’s cheeks heat up, and a warm, molasses-like feeling swell in his stomach; It wasn’t new, not at all, he had felt very similar during Total Drama World Tour whenever Alejandro made eye contact on the plane, but now?

Now it was different. Now, the sickly-sweet feeling and flushed cheeks just made him want to hurl, or throw himself out of the nearest window.

He had told his friends about it, two days after their gossip-randevu, over a long winded, and frankly embarrassing phone call. Izzy and Eva had joined them at Owen's request, and Cody was sitting with Sierra when he answered the call. (He had to swear her to secrecy with the threat to never speak to her again if she said anything to anybody else.)

The reveal that he had finally texted Alejandro was met with a series of dramatic ‘ooooh’s’, and a gasp of surprise from Sierra so loud, it made Owen drop his phone down the side of his couch. He had been almost interrogated, having to listen to almost an hour of loud, curious questioning, and he had only managed to get away when he finally gave into their queries. Sierra wanted to know if she could put it on her blog (No), Cody wanted to know if they were hooking up (Also no), Izzy had wanted to know whether or not this would interfere with movie night (He said he hoped not), and Owen had wanted to know how he ‘really felt’ about Alejandro, and how he ‘made him feel’ despite the circumstance of their last parting. (A fair enough question, that Noah had to think about drastically before answering.)

But Gwen, at the news that Alejandro ‘made his stomach flip over, but not in, like, a romantic way, more like a please help me god he's going to kill me way’ had let out a sigh so loud Noah had to put his phone down and take a lap around his living room.

There was something about Gwen’s sigh that made him uneasy. Beneath the comical cynicism and the mocking-but-friendly tone in her voice, there was a twinge of absolute grief that Noah was able to recognise in an instant. It was the same tone she used when they first spoke after Total-Drama World Tour, and the same one that she used whenever she talked about…

…Whenever she talked about Courtney.

Christ, it had made Noah want to throw his phone as hard as he could at the wall, but instead, he made a mental note to talk to her about it later, and simply laughed along with the rest of his friends.

They had been curious, but despite all of the questioning, the reappearance of his worst enemy, and the ever-growing feeling of fear every time he simply looked at the work elevator, none of it managed to occupy more space in his mind than one thing: Gemmie award nominations.

Jesus Christ.

The studio had been in a state of complete disarray for the last week; unfinished cups of coffee piling up onto desks, papers scattered across the carpeted floors, employees hyperventilating into tupperware containers of whatever microwavable lunch they had brought with them to work that day, the whole shebang. (Honestly, Noah had walked in on at least three people sobbing in the supply closets within the past two days alone.) And all of this was because the network had not one, not two, but three shows with extremely high chances of being nominated this year, all for various categories, but most importantly for him; Total Drama: Revenge of the Island.

He’s not entirely sure why it’s important to him, considering he didn’t work on the show in any capacity whatsoever, but for some reason, it was. That reason, evidently, was the reason he was sitting, tense, in one of the office chairs, bouncing his knees and staring anxiously at one of the large TV’s Chef had wheeled into the room about an hour ago.

Next to him, Chris sat cross legged on one of the same chairs, eyes glued to the screen like his life depended on it. He was obviously sweating, and he kept brushing his hair backwards with red, clammy hands. He looked more stressed than Noah had seen him in a long time, and… And he hated to admit it, but it was a little worrying.

It was simply this: It was Friday, which meant it was nomination day, which meant that whatever the outcome was, it determined the future of Chris’s career. (Noah thought that was absolutely hilarious, especially considering how jumpy the host had been over the last few days.)

“Dude, are you alright?” He muttered, leaning over to nudge the host with his elbow. Honestly, Chris looked almost like he was about to pass out. “Do you need, uh, water or something?”

He was met with a series of loud shushes, and Chris only momentarily glanced away from the screen to frown at him.

“All good, kid.” He muttered, letting out a quiet hum as Noah frowned. “Just taking longer than, uh, usual, to get to the reality tv section.”

Noah didn’t respond, but he did cast his glance across the office floor. All the lights were off, and the glow of phone screens, laptops, and the large tv were reflecting in the eyes of his colleagues. Everything was dead silent, other than the sound of the announcer – To his absolute horror when the livestream was turned on, it was Blainely . He was sure there were multiple texts from various group chats about it, all sitting unopened on his phone. – and he could hear the rapid sound of Chris’s breathing, even from across the gap between them.

…Okay, it was more than a little worrying, he looked like he was about to lose it.

“...You know that Revenge of the Island has the highest critic scores out of every reality show released this year, right?” He muttered, leaning forward, and raising an eyebrow when Chris turned to face him. “Biggest ratings-wise as well, and highest percent of audience retention, even with the new cast.”

Chris frowned, his eyes flicking between him and the television screen. “Of course I know that, it’s my show.”

Noah shrugged.

“Then you should know that there’s literally no way that it’s not getting nominated.” he said, deadpan, as he leaned back in his chair. Noah quirked an eyebrow, and he watched as a small wave of revelation washed across Chris’s features, and some of the tension eased from his shoulders. “Don’t be an idiot, not worth panicking over something you don’t have to.”

There was another pause, the sound of Blainely’s voice filling the room like helium might fill a balloon. As Noah stared, watching Chris’s face in the light of the tv screen, he realised that Chris was- No, that couldn’t be it- Chris was looking at him like a father might look at his son after he came home with a straight-A school report. He was examining him, making sure that he was completely telling the truth, almost succeeding in hiding the pride that threatened to spill from him the moment he realised he wasn’t lying. Then Chris spoke.

“...Yeah. Yeah, kid, you’re right.” He murmured, turning to stare back at the tv screen.

“I always am, that's why you hired me.” He rolled his eyes, and Chris let out an exasperated snort, but Noah could see that something in his posture eased. Chef, who was standing on the other side of the room next to the tv, had obviously been paying more attention to both of them than to the actual announcements, because he held up his hand and gave him a thumbs up, accompanied by a large, relieved grin.

Almost the moment when Chef grinned, somebody from near the front of the floor gasped, and every head that had been focused on something else, every pair of eyes fixed onto their phone, snapped upwards to stare at the TV.

“ And now, Our final category for the night; Reality Tv! ” Blainely’s voice bounced around the room, echoing off walls and making Noah’s heart race. “ We have five shows for this category tonight, and they are as follows!:”

Noah held his breath.

“ The Secret Life of Canadian Moms! A classic, as we’re all aware .”

Chris was gripping the arms of his chair so hard it looked like he was about to rip the leather off.

“ Dungeons: The Secret Second One… What’s this show even about ?”

The intern on the other side of Noah looked like he was about to throw up.

“ Museum Race, and Cooking With European Bachelors, two shows that have really affected the market for reality tv these days! ”

Noah could feel his heart in his throat, but with a long, deep breath, and a hard, almost aggressive blink, he forced it back down into his chest again. It wasn’t even his show , he didn’t need to care this time around…But once again, he did, and he stared hopefully across at the television screen as Blainely smirked, and waved around her sheet of paper.

“ And finally, much to my own displeasure, but much to you guy’s enjoyment, our final nominee is… Total Drama: Revenge of the Island! ”

Jesus Christ .

Noah sunk back into his seat, closing his eyes and breathing a deep, deep sigh of relief as the words left Blainely’s mouth. Around him, the office erupted into loud, excited cheers, and Noah could practically feel the building shake as the whole floor jumped to their feet in pure, unadulterated relief.

…Mostly because a nomination meant that they could keep all their jobs, something many of his fellow employees valued.

When Noah opened his eyes, he turned to stare at Chris. He had his head tilted back to the ceiling, and that infuriating, show-biz smirk was spread across his face like it belonged there. The sight almost made Noah sigh with relief again, and when the host turned his head towards him, this time grinning like a father whose child definitely wasn’t lying about the straight-A report card, Noah couldn’t help but smile back.

“Congratulations, grandpa.” He grinned, and Chris let out a whoop of approval as he scrambled out of his seat, holding out his hand for a high five. Noah reluctantly returned it, but then immediately wiped his hand on his shirt. This only made Chris grin harder, and he stood triumphantly before him like he was a general that had just won the war.

…Noah had to resist the urge to roll his eyes in mild disgust. It was a victory, after all, but still.

“Thanks, kid, we couldn’t have done it without you!” He laughed, and turned on his heel to practically run towards Chef.

“I didn’t even work on the show!” He called back, and leaned further into the leather of his seat. From across the room, he watched Chef sweep Chris into a hug, and mock-grimaced as Chris planted a kiss to Chef’s lips.

“You were there in spirit!”

This time Noah really did roll his eyes, and he let out a sigh as the floor began to quiet down. Of course they were going to be nominated, Revenge of the Island was the highest rated show of the year, it would be more of a surprise if they weren’t… But still. There was something about the anticipation that made Noah want to unzip his skin and crack his spine like a whip, if only to get the nerves out. (It was something Gwen had said once. One of the first things Noah had found out about her was that she had a morbid fascination with metaphor.)

The jitters made him excited, and the rush of adrenaline when he undoubtedly won almost completely made up for the stress of having to wait.

It’s the fun part of the job. He thought, grinning, as he finally registered his phone vibrating in his pocket. In an instant, it was in his hands, and he was scrolling through the plethora of notifications that appeared on his phone screen.

Group chats, Owen, Gwen, Izzy… All of the typical texts for this kind of event, and- oh, shit.

Alejandro - 7:43pm:

Did you watch the nominations? Heather and I did, and she asked me to tell you ‘congratulations, nerd.’

Why do you need to be congratulated??

Oh.

You didn’t tell me you’re still working with Chris McLean?

They had talked about hundreds of things over the last three days. He had heard about Alejandro’s history degree; It was based around ancient Greece, and he was learning how to speak ancient Greek to go along with it. They had spoken about the lives of other cast members, specifically Tyler and Owen. They had talked about books, music, plans for the week, anything that they could squish into two days of reluctant talking, only over text, but there were some things they hadn’t brought up.

Total Drama, for one thing. Alejandro’s relationship with Heather, anything related to the last time the two of them met, and, if evidence shows… Noah’s place of work.

He paled, and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

This, once again, was a job for future Noah.

—

“...Okay, it’s my turn to ask; are you alright, kid?”

Noah glanced up from his desk, and jumped as he found himself staring directly into the eyes of Chris McLean. It had been three hours since the nominations had been announced, and despite the fact that it was past ten o’clock at night, Noah hadn’t yet left the office.

It wasn’t due to lack of opportunity to do so, per say, or due to Chris demanding that he stay late. No, he was staying because he had the weekend and Monday off, and since the studio-floor was a complete and utter disaster, and he wouldn’t be there to direct people around to clean it, he was doing it himself. In the past, he had simply left the office in such a state over weekends, but repeatedly, every single time, he would be met at 9am on a Tuesday by the smell of old coffee, unvacuumed floors, and somebody’s moulding lunch.

The idea sickened him more than the prospect of simply staying late and cleaning, so for the last three hours, he had been busy emptying styrofoam cups into the kitchenette sink, and throwing whole lunch-boxes into trash bags.

He had been doing so rather productively, and had finally reached his own, actually pretty clean desk, before Chris McLeans voice drifted into his ears with a question he didn’t really want to answer.

“...Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance as he whisked past the host, carrying several mugs – with varying different types and amounts of liquid in them – towards the kitchenette. “I didn’t catch that.”

Behind him, Chris began to trail, and he could practically feel him roll his eyes.

“I know damn well that you did.” He said, his voice bordering between amusement and worry. Over the past year, Noah’s learnt to discern between the different tones of voice that Chris used on the daily, and this, almost to his surprise, sounded like real concern. “C’mon, spill, it’s good for your conscience, or whatever.”

Noah sighed, and placed the mugs down in the sink. The ceramic made an unpleasant clicking noise against the metal, and he grimaced, before he turned around to raise an eyebrow, attempting nonchalance.

“There isn’t anything on my conscience that needs to be spilled, thank you very much.” He drawled, and Chris simply shook his head with a disappointed frown, and walked towards him. For a few seconds, Noah thought he was going to stop in front of him, but instead he moved to the side, and hoisted himself up so that he was sitting on the newly-cleaned counter next to him. Noah, seeing this, simply leaned back so that they were next to each other properly.

“Seriously? Everyone has something they can spill, dude.” Chris grinned, and Noah raised both of his eyebrows this time, in obviously fake-curiosity. “Well, how about I tell you something on my mind, then you can tell me about what’s on yours, hm?”

“I don’t want to do ‘therapist exercises’ with my boss.” He frowned, and gazed across the floor before him. It was clean, almost spotless even, and by now it was so late that everyone else had gone home. He had turned off most of the lights so that he could work in peace, and stare comfortably out of the high-rise windows, like he was some kind of protagonist in a melodramatic-corporate-drama series. “Can’t I just keep cleaning in peace?”

Chris shook his head with a grin.

“Checking up on my employees is a crucial part of the job, Noah.” He grinned, and Noah let out a snort of amusement. When he looked at Chris, his eyes were reflecting the overhead light in the kitchenette. His hair was messy, like he hadn’t been bothered to comb it within the last few hours, and he could see the gentle wrinkles littering his face. He looked so much… calmer, than he usually does, like a father after a long day of work, about to put his kid to bed.

…He only ever looked like this, older than he should be, after talking about Total Drama. It was like the show had taken a toll on him, much like it had on Noah.

“...Yeah, whatever.” He muttered, and slouched forward. For a moment, neither of them spoke, but then Noah let out a sigh, and turned to stare across at the studio again. “...You tell me what’s going on with you, first.”

Chris opened his mouth to respond, almost like he was surprised that he agreed, but then he let out a satisfied hum as he leaned backwards to rest his head on the cabinets.

“Chef and I are going to couples counselling.”

This made Noah’s gaze shoot right back up, and he stared, almost horrified, at the host above him, his jaw practically on the floor.

“What?! Are you guys- are you guys okay? Are you getting a divorce ?!”

Chris snorted, barking out  a laugh as he brought up his hand to ruffle Noah’s hair. Noah didn’t care, instead, all he did was look up at him, shellshocked. The host looked completely unbothered, in fact, he looked almost fondly over to where Chef’s desk sat, and he let out a low whistle.

“We’re fine, kid, and we’re not getting a divorce. I promise, if we do, you’ll be the first one to know.” He chuckled, and Noah felt relief was over him like ocean waves. Why, he wasn’t entirely sure; it was probably something to think about later, but for now, he just let out a sigh of relief, before he looked up again, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“...But if you’re not getting a divorce, why are you going to couples counselling?”

Chris smiled.

“People go to couples counselling for more reasons than just divorce, dude.” He snorted, and crossed his arms. Noah watched him curiously. “People go to couples therapy to work through things, together, as a unit instead of by themselves. After the show, we feel like we’ve both got some thing’s to work through, so we wanted to try doing it, like, together. We’re still in love and everything, happy husbands, whatever, but we’re just trying something new.”

“...Oh.”

Chris turned to him, and raised an eyebrow.

“What, too cheesy?”

Noah paused. He knew that people didn’t just go to couples counselling for just divorce, but there was something about it coming from Chris’s mouth that made the idea all the more real. As well as that, it sounded so sincere, something he definitely wasn’t used to in the slightest.

“...I just didn’t know you were capable of caring about anything but yourself.” He spoke, trying to bring back the lighthearted tone of voice as he looked up at the host, who still had that warm, uncharacteristically caring look in his eyes. But Chris snorted, stretching his arms above his head with a laugh as Noah raised an eyebrow.

“Jesus, kid, you think too little of me.” He grinned, and Noah crossed his arms with a smirk. But then he looked down at him with a hum, and Noah was suddenly filled with dread. “Time to hold up your end of the deal, what’s going on in that brain of yours?”

Noah froze.

He had forgotten about this; the shock of believing that Chris and Chef were going to get a divorce, combined with the complete one-eighty of it being the complete opposite had ruined his idea of how to respond.

What could he say? That the elevator reminds him too much of the Total Drama Jumbo Jet, so he’s only been taking the stairs? That he gets sick every time he hears anything about Revenge of the Island? That Gwen sounds so much sadder than usual and he doesn’t know how to deal with that? That he’s started talking to Alejandro again?

“...I met Alejandro at the bakery three days ago.” He blurted out before he could stop himself. The words tumbled out of his mouth like beads from a jar, and he began to grip the counter so hard that his knuckles went white. “We exchanged phone numbers.”

Chris opened his mouth to reply, before he closed it, then opened it, then finally uttered:

“Alejandro Burromuetto ?”

Noah nodded, and let out a sigh, closing his eyes out of embarrassment. Telling his friends, and telling Chris about Alejandro seemed to be eliciting the exact same feeling. Chris furrowed his eyebrows, and began to drum his fingers against the countertop.

“...Is he being an asshole?”

Noah blinked.

“What?”

“Is he being a dick?” Chris repeated, and his gaze hardened. “The lawyers can get you a restraining order. All we have to do is bring up your World Tour elimination and they’ll agree to all of the terms.”

“ What?! No! I don’t need a restraining order, i- Jesus .” He spoke, eyes wide as he stared at the concerned look on the host’s face. “It’s- It's nice of you to offer, but no, he’s actually being… nice?”

And Chris’s demeanour changed immediately . The concern, almost aggression, instantly gave way to surprise, and relatively sleazy interest. Oh no . Noah’s eyes widened, and he didn’t have time to shake his head before Chris let out a laugh.

“You meant that you met Alejandro? Dude, he’s not- I didn't raise you to go after assholes, kid.”

“I’m not going after him! ” Noah scowled, and tried to sink into his shirt further. “And you didn't raise me! Gwen and Owen and Cody, they’ve been trying to give me advice on how to talk to him, but, I don’t even know, there’s something about him…”

At this, Chris’s demeanour changed again , and his expression shifted back into concern.

“...In what kind of way?”

Noah paused, but he let out a sigh.

“...It’s dumb, but the last time we saw each other properly…” He didn’t finish the sentence, and instead let out a defeated groan as Chris patted him gently on the shoulder. He lowered himself onto the ground, feeling the cool tile beneath the fabric of his pants, and burying his face in his hands. Soon, he heard the sound of someone sitting down next to him, and leaning their head back onto the lower cabinets. “...He was a player, a liar, an eel , but now, he wants to reconnect, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Next to him, Chris let out a sympathetic hum, and when Noah looked up, he saw that he was staring thoughtfully across the office.

“...What are you looking at?” He asked, hesitantly, but Chris simply shook his head, and continued to stare. He stood up from the ground, seemingly realising that sitting down on the floor wouldn’t do either of them any good, and he planted his hands on his hips.

“Kid, do you want my advice?” He spoke, and Noah furrowed his eyebrows.

“...Is that not why I told you about him? So I can learn some of your old man wisdom?” He drawled, and Chris rolled his eyes.

“Do you want to reconnect with him? Or do you just feel like you should?”

Noah hesitated. He thought back to the bakery, where he felt that rush of adrenaline, the longing for something he once had when Alejandro asked for his phone number. He thought back to those final moments on the plane, where Alejandro’s smirk made him want to launch himself out of the plane without the parachute. He thought back to two nights ago, when Alejandro’s texts made him want to sink so far into the blankets he would never have to come out.

He thought about it, only for a moment, before he clenched his jaw.

“...I think I do want to reconnect with him.”

Chris grinned, then shrugged.

“Then keep texting him, call him, keep in contact whichever way you want to. If you decide you never want to see him again later, then I can get you that restraining order.”

Noah snorted, and hoisted himself up off of the ground. He felt… a little bit better than he did before, but there was still one, tiny thing…

“He watched the nomination ceremony, and he found out that I'm your personal assistant again. I don’t think he’ll want to keep talking to me.”

Noah swore that he saw Chris’s eyes flash with an emotion he couldn’t quite make out, but the host only snorted, leaving forward to pat him reassuringly on the shoulder, before he spun around to walk towards his desk.

“Just throw me under the bus, kid.” He hummed, and Noah squinted, confused.

“Huh?”

“Tell him I forced you into it. It’s kind of my thing, right? He’ll believe it.”

Noah rolled his eyes, but he could feel the smile growing across his face as he trailed behind him, stopping at his own desk to pick up his things.

“You did force me into it, you hid it in my contract.”

“Exactly!” Chris grinned, and sunk down into his chair, streaking his arms above his head. “Now, get out of here kid, go get your eight hours, i’ve got more work to do?”

Noah frowned, but slung his backpack over his shoulder.

“It’s almost 11pm.”

“Yeah, when you’re as famous as me, sleep doesn’t come easy.” He joked, but there was something behind his voice that made Noah frown a little bit deeper. But Chris raised his head, and gestured away in a shooing motion. “Seriously, go home little dude, you’ve done great work today.”

Noah yawned, faltering slightly as he began to walk towards the elevator, before he swerved, and instead began to walk towards the stairwell.

“...Thanks. See you Monday.” He said, as nonchalantly as possible, as Chris called out more goodbyes behind him.

The stairwell was almost pitch black, so Noah took each step carefully, gripping onto the railing like he would fall to his death if he didn’t.

…At least the elevator would have been well-lit.

—

The minute he arrived home, he passed out, fully clothed, on his couch.

He didn’t have any dreams, he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night with a magical epiphany, and he didn’t come to any mind blowing conclusions while he slept… But he did manage to sleep for fourteen hours.

At around 1:30pm the next day, Noah awoke to the sound of fifteen notifications going off at once. The constant dinging from his phone has obviously been happening for several hours now, but as he raised his head with a groan, rubbing his neck with a stiff hand, it’s like whoever’s texting him can sense that he’s finally risen from the dead.

I should’ve put it on silent yesterday, Jesus. He thought as he hoisted himself up into a sitting position. The corduroy couch cushions had left an indent of lines across his arms, and when he reached up to rub his eyes, he could feel the same horizontal ridges plastered across his cheek. Great. Why he didn’t just pass out in his bed last night, he wasn’t sure, but there's always been something kind of alluring about the old, second-hand couch after a bad day. It’s been a momentary resting place for him after a long day of following orders, a comforting place for Gwen to sit down and sketch after another failed attempt to reconcile with Courtney, a safe place for Izzy to nap after a day full of whatever antics she’s gotten up to.

…But everybody always feels a little bit better after sitting on Noah’s couch for a few hours.

That being said, Noah could feel a headache pounding at the back of his head, and his mouth was so dry his tongue felt like it was about to fall off. He did feel a little bit better emotionally though, with Chris’s kind-of-reassuring words bouncing around in his mind, battling with the headache for control.

His joints were sore, and when he stood up, he was so lightheaded that he thought he was going to fall over again. The carpet swam under his feet, and in his attempt to get to the kitchen to turn the kettle on for coffee, he almost launched himself head-first into the floor. A tiny part of him wishes he was a little bit less coordinated; He could crack his head on the tile and never have to deal with any of the things he was worried about ever again. No Alejandro, no Gemmie awards, no sad friends, no nothing. Only the sweet, inky release of-

…Of what? Of death? That’s not what he was thinking about, was it? The thought made him stop in his tracks, and he brought his hands up to rub at his eyes aggressively. When he blinked again, he could feel the headache receding, as if the simple act of sleep was the thing keeping it going. The floor stood still, and his socks slid unceremoniously over the tile as he reached the tile.

“That’s not…” He muttered, reaching for the kettle, and filling it up with water. “That’s not what I meant, I meant that I needed a vacation or something, Christ.”

The end of his sentence was punctuated with a little chuckle, as if his voice was aware of how ridiculous his head was being. The phone in his pocket continued to vibrate with text messages and what sounded like an incoming phone call, but whatever was going on, he decided it could wait until there was a mug in his hands, and a few pieces of toast on a plate in front of him. He placed the phone face-down onto the counter, and began to lazily whisk around the kitchen.

First, he placed two slices of bread in the toaster, pressing down the switch and letting out a hum of satisfaction as the appliance began to buzz gently. Then he cleaned the french-press, grinded the coffee beans, and poured the freshly boiled water into the coffee pot. Before long, he was sitting comfortably at one of the stools in front of the counter with a plate of toast, and a warm mug of actually-pretty-good coffee. The smell of the coffee beans wafted around the kitchen, and as he took a bite of his toast, he felt the remains of the headache dissipating from his skull.

Finally.

“Now, what the fuck is going on?” He spoke to the empty air, to the breeze blowing in through the open kitchen window, and he pulled his phone towards him, flipping it over, and staring down at the screen. The screen was full of notifications, more than there should be for one o’clock on a Saturday. There were plenty of them from group chats as he scrolled through, but the more recent ones – the ones making noise as he woke up that afternoon – were all from individual people, more specifically… Gwen and Cody.

He furrowed his eyebrow, and pressed on the most recent notification from Gwen.

Gwendy - 1:02pm:

Noah we r so sorry

I thoughght she just wanted ur numebrd because she disn’t have idt

DO NOT PICK UP

She[sdn so angry

i m relllty sorry

Gwendy - 1:15pm:

Are u alsive??

Wed dis notre mean to set sthe beast on you

Sheds liek the minatourds

Or a nest of fukin hornets

Don’t ansswe the phone

Gwendy - 1:37pm:

ANSWER THE FUCNKSNG PHONE, DWEEB

Gwendy - 1:42 pm:

DONT

SHES BAITDINSG UOU

There were more texts, but as Noah scrolled down through them, past the missed calls and frantic apologies, the confusion began to shift into knowing, and almost worried-terror.

He knew exactly what was going on, and when he began to scroll through Cody’s text messages, detailing almost the exact same things, the realisation was only reinforced. He had over fifteen missed calls from an unknown number, and he was well aware of who was trying to call him. Infact, as he was scrolling through the text messages, the phone started vibrating in his hand again, and another phone call popped up on the screen.

For a moment, he considered listening to Gwen’s advice, considered putting the phone down and finishing his breakfast/lunch in peace… But he knew who the caller was, and he knew that if he didn’t answer the phone, there was a pretty good chance that she would show up at his house. He didn’t want that, so with a reluctant sigh, he pressed the answer button, and groaned a quick: 

“...Who is this?”

Before they could say anything first.

"F inally, dweeb, what’s going on with you and Alejandro?! ”

Heather's voice was exactly the same as he remembered it being. She spoke so sharply she could probably cut you simply with her words, and there was always an underlying tone of malice that made Noah borderline uncomfortable. She had incredible diction, and the moment the words echoed through the phone, Noah’s mind flashed back to economy class in the jumbo-jet.

“Heather, what a surprise.” He drawled, a cacophony of faint groans echoing from the other side  of the phone. He presumed that that was Cody, Gwen, and maybe Sierra, all on that vaguely mentioned coffee date that they had been talking about before. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“ Cut the crap, nerd .” He could practically hear the scowl on the other end of the phone. “ Answer the question, what’s going on with you two ?”

Noah rolled his eyes, and took a deliberately long sip of his coffee.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, baldie , we’ve just been talking.” He scowled, placing emphasis on the nickname and raising an eyebrow at the laughter that followed. “Am I on speaker? Who are you with?”

The answer was the sound of somebody yanking the phone out of Heather's hand, or at least that’s what it sounded like, and Cody’s voice echoed through the speaker.

“ Sorry, Noah! ” He said, guiltily. “ Gwen thought she was going to be chill about it. Yeah, you're on speaker, but it’s just team amazon! ”

“Team amazon…” He muttered, then flinched as Heather yelled, and yanked the phone back. “So Courtney too?”

Courtney’s voice drawled through the speaker, mock annoyance with an undertone of amusement.

“ Hey, Noah, long time, no see. I’m not here by choice- hey !”

“ She’s here by my choice. ” Heather spoke again. “ And I mean why are you two chatting? Are you leading him on or something? Is this revenge for your elimination? Why didn’t you tell him you were working for Chris? ”

This time, Noah’s sigh of annoyance was real, and he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He could feel the headache reappearing, and the eel scars on his arms were starting to itch.

“What the hell do you mean ‘leading him on’? He said that he wanted to reconnect like three days ago! That’s less than a hundred hours, you can’t really ‘lead someone on’ in less than a hundred hours.”

“ That’s what I said! You’re being an asshole, Heather .” Gwen spoke, and at the familiar, defensive tone, Noah relaxed a little bit. Out of all the previous members of team amazon, he knew her the best, and luckily for him, she was willing to defend him from the walking-talking hornets nest. (Heather, he assigned in his mind.) That being said, there was something a little bit… off, about the way she was speaking, as if she was trying to contain what her actual voice sounded like.

‘Yeah, Heather, you’re being an asshole.” He echoed, and multiple people on the other line let out a snort. “And for your information, I didn’t tell him I was working for Chris because he didn’t ask! And quite frankly, it’s none of his business .”

“It is his business! He’s reconciling with the guy who’s working for the guy who shoved him into a volcano!”

“It was a fake volcano! And I’m reconciling with the guy who pushed me out of a plane! A very real plane! ” He rebutted, attempting to flood his voice with as much venom as he could muster, which judging by Heather's silence, was actually quite a lot. “I think that gives me the right to withhold a little information.”

On the other end of the line, Courtney muttered an amused: “... He kind of has a point .” At the same time, Gwen sighed an: “ Amen, dude .”

For a few seconds, all he heard was Heather’s surprised sputtering, and a warm, smug smirk appeared on his face; after a moment however, she spoke again, this time her voice a lot less violent.

“... He’s annoyingly happy to be talking to you .” She stated, not continuing her sentence.

“...What?”

“ He’s, like, so happy I think he’s going to explode, he’s- What’s the word, Gwen? Court? ”

“ Overjoyed ?” Two voices echoed, and Noah raised an eyebrow down at the phone.

“ Yeah, he’s fucking overjoyed, and he wants to actually hang out with you, like, he wants to get coffee, see movies, whatever. ”

Noah froze, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. He had known Alejandro actually wanted to talk to him, why else would he have asked for his number? But until now, he hadn’t actually registered that he wanted to be… actual friends .

“...Oh.” He hummed, and sat completely still, as if moving might make Heather change topics.

“ Yeah. I told these guys about Alejandro finding out you work for Chris, and since Alejandro said you didn’t respond to his texts, the dweeb over here said they might have freaked you out. So I'm telling you now that he doesn’t actually care very much; it’s not going to stop him from wanting to talk to you or anything, he’s just surprised, and wants to know why. ”

“...Really?” He said. There was no hope in his voice, but there was a light undercurrent of surprise that he didn’t expect his own voice to produce. “Is he mad about it?”

Heather snorted, and Noah frowned.

“ Mad? God no, he just thinks Chris forced you into at the end of the last season. He doesn’t give a shit beyond knowing if Chris is paying you properly .”

“He cares that he’s paying me properly?”

“ The guy cares more about other people’s finances than his own .” Heather drawled, and Noah found himself fondly rolling his eyes. He had never found himself saying that he missed Heather in the gap between seasons, but hearing her voice, however loud and commandeering it might be, was familiar to him in a way that a lot of things weren’t. “ So yeah, he does. I’m hanging up now, Sierras whispering to Cody about ice cream and he looks like he wants to hurl .”

It was Noah’s turn to let out a snort, and a loud squawk could be heard from the other line – presumably from Sierra – amidst a cacophony of giggles from the rest of them.

“Understandable.” Was all he said, and he was sure that he could hear Heather roll her eyes.

“ Yeah, and- I’m going to be totally transparent with you, dweeb: Alejandro says he wants to ‘take things slow’ for your sake, which I think is complete bullshit, so you’ve gotta ask him to do something if you want it to happen in the next year .” Heather whispered, her voice much closer to the phone than before, like she had taken it off speaker and put it against her ear. “ I know it’s only been three days, but it’s not like you’re hooking up with him or anything, he’ll literally do anything, as long as it’s with you .”

As long as it’s with you .

Noah gulped, and before he could respond, hell, before he could utter a goodbye, the phone clicked, and Heather hung up. For a few moments, he sat, staring blankly at his phone and listening to the sound of the breeze from the open windows, before he let out a long, tired sigh. 

“Anything as long as it’s with you…” He muttered, rolling his eyes and downing half of his mug in an instant. It was bitter, and needed milk, but since he didn’t have any, black coffee with sugar had to do. He could feel the bitterness on his taste buds even after he swallowed. “What the hell is she even talking about?”

He didn’t spend a long time thinking about Heather’s final words, instead, as he finished his toast and began to clean up the very miniscule mess he had made while preparing it, he pondered over the fact that Alejandro wasn’t mad about him working with Chris. He had expected him to feel angry, betrayed, annoyed at the fact that he was working with public enemy number one. He hadn’t expected him to be concerned about his living wage of all things. The thought perplexed him, so when he flopped back onto the couch, intending to make the most of his three-day weekend, he spent several minutes simply staring at the messages before actually replying to them.

Alejandro - 7:43pm Friday:

Did you watch the nominations? Heather and I did, and she asked me to tell you ‘congratulations, nerd.’

Why do you need to be congratulated??

Oh.

You didn’t tell me you’re still working with Chris McLean?

He let out a sigh. He could be defensive if he wanted to; his job paid him enough money to live comfortably, so what if it was for the man that tortured him for three years? But no, Heather specifically said that he wasn’t mad, so Noah decided to be… chill, or at least, as chill as he could be.

Me - 2:01pm:

Sorry, i probably should’ve told you

It just hasn’t come up in the last three days

I did watch the nominations oml, I was in the office at the time so it was wild

What do u think of them?

Alejandro didn’t respond instantly, in fact, after a few minutes of staring at the screen, Noah let out another sigh, and turned the Tv on so that he could scroll mindlessly through his phone. The channel already playing was halfway through ‘ Fight Club’ , a movie he liked, so he didn’t bother changing it. By the time Alejandro texted him back, it was over, and the channel was playing the second ‘ Jurassic Park ’ movie.

Alejandro - 3:34pm:

It’s alright, I did not ask so I cannot expect you to tell me

I’m curious,

Did you start working for him by your own free will? And does he pay you properly?

Honestly, he did not treat you very well last time, my friend.

I can imagine that being in an office full of the network with multiple shows up for nomination would be stress inducing.

I think that most of the nominations were deserved

Noah breathed out a sigh of relief, and started typing.

Me - 3:35pm:

Eh

It was in my TD contract that I had to work for him again, but he’s nicer this time around

Idk, he’s being weirdly supportive of my bullshit lately

And he’s paying me well

Very well, like really

And everything except for D:TSSO deserved it

I hated that show.

Oh yeah i’ve got something to ask you

Alejandro - 3:37pm:

That’s very good

I was worried he was just as much of a dick than before.

How much does he pay you?

And what do you have to ask?

Noah’s stomach flipped, and he thought back to his conversation with Heather only an hour ago. He’ll do anything, as long as it’s with you . He gritted his teeth.

Me - 3:37:

That’s a secret

Do you want to go out on monday?

I have the day off, and idk if you have classes but it’s been a while

The several seconds of silence were longer than the entire hour of no response.

Alejandro - 3:38pm:

I would love to :) 

I don’t have any classes, so I am completely free

What do you want to do?

Me - 3:38pm:

Cool

Uh

I didn’t think that far

I just asked

Do you have anything we could do??

Alejandro - 3:38pm:

Hm

Do you have any errands that need doing?

Me - 3:39pm:

Yeah

Grocery shopping and ive gotta go to the dry cleaners

Do you seriously want to run errands with me?

Alejandro - 3:39pm:

Yes i do

Perfect first hangout activity

Me - 3:40pm:

Ur insane

A psychopath

Alejandro - 3:40pm:

It’s what Heather and I did after world tour ended

And would you look at the two of us

Best of friends!

Me - 3:42pm:

Jesus christ

Okay, lets do your shopping too

Or like whatever you need done i guess

At twelve? I can drive?

Alejandro - 3:43pm:

You can drive???

And yes twelve is perfect <3

Where should we meet?

Me - 3:42pm:

I’ll pick you up, I have your address

And do not use the heart emoji with me 

Skeeze

See you monday, then, i’m taking a nap.

Then Noah closed his phone, chucked it gently onto the carpet, and let out a long, borderline-concerning scream into the couch cushions.

—

He did not take a nap, but the rest of his Saturday and the entirety of his Sunday went on without a hitch. He spent the next several hours of Saturday watching the plethora of movies this channel decided to air; including, but not limited to, The Dark Night and Saving Private Ryan . (The latter was the thing that made him finally get up and make himself some dinner. Jesus, Saving Private Ryan wasn’t something to watch when half-asleep and borderline delirious.)

He made himself dinner, a quick salad and the last of Owens pasta, (Food poisoning be damned.) and had gone to bed much earlier than he usually would. He woke up almost-refreshed on Sunday, and scrubbed his skin raw in the shower, emerging from the bathroom red-skinned and finally clean .

He had called Gwen, meaning to check up on her after the day before, but she hadn’t picked up. That worried him a little bit. While she didn’t love calling people, she always picked up the phone, but after two more tries, Noah had simply frowned, and called Owen. he picked up on the second ring, and when he asked what was up, Noah let out a sigh.

“Have you heard from Gwen today?” He spoke, his voice betraying only a twinge of worry.

“Hm… She hasn’t answered my texts since Friday, so no.” He could practically hear the frown on Owens face. “ Why? ”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, and let out a hum of feigned nonchalance. “I needed advice, but you can probably help instead.”

From the other side of the phone, he could hear Owen’s frown turn into a beaming grin.

“Of course I can!” He grinned, and Noah smiled.

“Okay, so I’m going out with Alejandro tomorrow.” He hummed, and there was a couple of seconds of silence from the other line, before Owen spoke once again.

“...I’m coming over.” He stated, and Noah could hear the sound of key’s being grabbed and shoes being slid onto feet. It made him jolt, and he sputtered into the receiver.

“ What ?” He questioned, already standing up to shove any mess into the hallway closet, or under his couch.

“Because! Little buddy needs some fashion advice and a pep talk, and you can get both of those things from me!”

“Oh my god, okay.” Was all he said, and he blinked as Owen hung up.

He had spent the next several hours listening to Owen’s attempt at fashion advice, and eventually giving up completely, and throwing together a haphazard outfit for the next day; old jeans and an assortment of layers. Owen had shaken his head, but upon finding out that ‘hanging out’ was grocery shopping, he had reluctantly agreed that the outfit was appropriate.

Several hours after cooking Noah dinner, Owen had left, and Noah had retreated to his bed with his laptop. He had taken another shower, however this time, the temperature had been a medium between skin-scalding hot and sad-luke-warm. He had spent several hours awake reading, and eventually, had fallen into a restless, uncomfortable sleep.

It was the type of restless sleep a child might get before Christmas, or the type of sleep a person might get before the worst day of their life. Whichever one it was, Noah hadn’t decided yet.

Either way, he woke up the next morning to the sound of birds singing outside his window. The breeze was filtering in through the flyscreen, and the distant sound of cars driving by filled his ears with an ambiance typical to his mornings. He could feel the sun shining through the glass, and with a tired yawn, he stretched his arms above his head, and opened his eyes. The room was flooded with light, and when he rolled over to check his phone, it-

It was 11:46am.

He was supposed to meet Alejandro in 14 minutes, and he had just woken up.

If he didn’t get up, get dressed, and get in the car within five minutes, he-

He was going to be so fucking late .

Chapter Text

He shot out of bed like a rocket ship, flying out from under his covers and jolting towards his closet.

“Jesus Christ .” He scowled, yanking the outfit he had pain-stakingly planned yesterday out of his cupboard and throwing it onto his bed. “No alarm? What the hell were you thinking? ”

In a flash, he was pulling his socks onto his feet and sprinting out of his bedroom towards the bathroom. The floorboards were slippery, so he slid across it so fast that he almost crashed into the door frame. Since he had only just woken up, the apartment was cold and echo-y, even despite the blue sky he could see out the windows, and as he rushed past the coat-rack in his hallway, he considered putting on another layer.

When he ran into the bathroom he immediately stepped in a puddle of water leftover from last-night’s shower, and he cringed, jumping backwards and letting out a groan. Wet socks weren't what he needed this morning in the slightest. As he tip-toed around the puddles, trying to avoid slipping in the tiles, he was met with the sight of an unclean, very cluttered bathroom sink.

Great.

There was an upside, however, in the sense that when he looked at himself in the mirror, he didn’t look half-bad.

The eyebags under his eyes were much lighter than they had been a few days ago, and in the light of the sun shining through the window, his skin was actually pretty good. His hair was falling nicely down his neck and brushed gently across his face, and when he looked into his own eyes; which didn’t look as tired as he felt, he let himself sigh, and leant tiredly onto the bathroom counter-top.

11:50.

Maybe he could convince Alejandro to buy them some coffee on the way to the store? Whatever. He ran a hand tiredly down his face and picked up the tube of mascara Gwen had bought him about a month ago, and began to gently brush it over his eyelashes; then, immediately after he was done, he resumed his mad dash around the house, and launched himself out of his bathroom and towards the front door. He yanked his sneakers on over his socks and after quickly grabbing his keys, double checking that he had his wallet, and shoving his phone in his pocket, he yanked the suit he needed dry cleaned off the hook it had been hanging on, then whipped the door open and raced over to the elevator-

The elevator.

He heard the door slam behind him and he slid to a stop in front of the elevator landing. The metal doors loomed above him like the gates of hell, hot to the touch and an inevitable sentence of eternal damnation. He could hear the sound of the pulley drawing up the little metal box to his floor, and as the doors opened, and a woman in a teal suit strode past him, he stared, horrified, at the silver interior.

The mouth of Tartaros itself; dooming, and unwelcoming.

…But he didn’t have time to take the stairs, to fling himself down the ten flights if he wanted to make it to Alejandro’s house even vaguely on time. So before he could second-guess himself, he stepped into the elevator, pressed the button for the ground floor, and gripped the railing so hard he was scared he was going to break his hand.

Noah’s heard people say that elevators are a metaphor for life, but he’s always thought that it’s a relatively shitty analogy.

They say that the elevator doors opening are like opportunities, that the buttons you press lead you to those opportunities like you have a choice on where your life is going; before you reach your destination, one must ascend or descend past all the other floors, or in the case of this specific metaphor, past all of the opportunities you either don’t want, or that you’re not yet ready for. They say that ultimately, it’s a choice of where you get off, a choice of which opportunity you want to take.

It’s all good in theory, the element of choice . (Rather an illusion of choice in Noah’s case. The only part of his life he’s gotten to decide for himself these last few years is his recent… reconciliation, with Alejandro.)

But the thing he hates about the Elevator Metaphor is that it ultimately says this; until you get out of the elevator, until you take that one, perfect opportunity that you’re destined for, you’re stuck in a cold, metal box, forever. You don’t get out of the elevator until it reaches your floor, and even when you get out, and spend however-much time on the floor you’ve picked – in the opportunity you’ve picked – you eventually have to get back into the elevator and go back to the start, or, perhaps, you have to pick a new floor.

It makes Noah never want to step foot in an elevator again for as long as he lives.

But it doesn’t take long for the elevator to reach the ground floor, and before Noah could get his bearings, he shot out of the doors and towards the apartment garage.

11:56pm.

This doesn’t take a long time either, and within a minute, he’s turning the engine on in his car – provided generously by Chris McLean Inc before he even had a full licence last year – and he was pulling out onto the street.

After his call with Heather and the rest of Team Amazon the day before, he had messaged Cody to see if he would be able to get him Heather and Alejandro’s new address. Cody had provided, and within three minutes of him asking, he had gotten a message back with the full street address and postcode. Honestly, he’s surprised that Cody had managed to ask without getting his head bitten off, but after the phone call and Gwen’s string of texts, he got the impression that it wasn’t an entirely sober lunch-date.

So he loaded the address into the gps, and started down the street. For a few moments, he was flooded with relief that he was on his way, but then it was instantly overtaken by the fact that he was going to be almost ten minutes late. Unfortunately, since he was already on the road, there were only two things he could do about that; neither of them he was particularly proud of…

Did you know that if you’re travelling 50 kilometres an hour, and you look away for five seconds, you’ll travel 70 metres in the time you look away from the road? Noah thought… But he had to do something.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, he leaned over to snatch his phone, open Alejandro’s contact, and type out a swift message.

Me - 11:59am:

Hey, i’m gonand be lien five minutes layten

A word thsing came uos im sory

He didn’t keep looking to see whether Alejandro replied or not, but he did press harder on the accelerator as he shot through an intersection.

He didn’t like to speed; no, he was usually a firm obeyer of traffic laws and regulations. Right now, however, he had places to be, and if that meant running a stop sign or two? Well, let bygones be bygones. Due to Noah’s intimate knowledge of the area, a little bit of speeding, and some insane luck with the traffic lights, the drive to Alejandro’s house took only seven minutes instead of the predicted twelve, a rather impressive feat, if you were to ask him.

Much to his surprise, when he pulled up to the address, he found that the ‘house’ Alejandro lived in wasn’t an apartment, but rather, quite literally a house. It was small, wedged into a side street with a quaint little garden out the front, but it looked renovated, and Noah had the distinct feeling that it was much bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside. When he leaned over to the passenger seat to text Alejandro again, he was un-surprised to find that he already responded.

Alejandro - 12:00pm:

That’s alright, text me when you arrive :) 

So Noah typed out a quick reply, and turned his attention to the front door in anticipation.

Me - 12:06pm: 

I’m here

There was something pooling at the bottom of Noah’s stomach, and he wasn’t sure if it was dread, or excitement. On one hand, he had really liked Alejandro back on the Jumbo Jet, and there was something so inexplicably comforting about his company. On the other hand, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was plotting something, that he was just using Noah’s attention to play some shitty prank on him for youtube views, or somehow, to win another reality show he didn’t know about. He hadn’t known the guy at all during the last year, so he really didn’t have anything to judge him on anymore.

Absent-mindedly, he reached up to scratch at the marks littering his collar-bone. Beneath his multiple layers were lines of electrical scars littering his skin and aching bones that needed fixing. Sometimes, the aching in his muscles and the feeling of the scars on his skin was so uncomfortable that he had to submerge himself into a scalding hot bath until the feeling went away. It wasn’t often, but it was enough to make him cringe when thinking about it.

Actually, he’s not sure if it’s his subconscious working it’s magic, but every time he thinks about Alejandro, a jolt of… something shoots up his spine, and he begins to itch.

But right now, the same jolt of ‘something’ jumped up his spine as he watched the door to the house swing open, and two people stroll out, both varying obviously in emotion.

Alejandro and Heather.

Heather’s expression was a mix of curiosity and disapproval, and she looked exactly the same as he remembered her being, aside from the slightly longer hair. She was striding next to Alejandro, and it was rather obvious that she was intending to come up to the car and talk.

But Alejandro… Alejandro . He looked better than he remembered him; better than he looked when they met at the bakery five days ago. His hair was tied into a low pony-tail, and he was wearing a pair of low-rise black jeans, and a very low-cut collared shirt; exposing not only his collar-bones, but also more of the long scar that ran down his neck. For a few seconds, Noah felt wildly conscious of the scars beneath his own clothes, but that completely dissipated the moment he looked up at his face.

Because Alejandro looked so happy . A content smile was set on his face as he listened to Heather talk about whatever she was talking about, and when he glanced forward to the car, and saw Noah open the door and rise from the driver's seat, his eyes lit up with a warmth he forgot he knew.

But his attention was torn away from Alejandro when Heather moved to stand in front of him, and in three long strides, was about a metre away. Noah didn’t have many interactions with her during the show, but he had a feeling that both of them remembered each other very clearly.

“Noah.” She sneered, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She looked like the condor from the Easter Island challenge, and Noah felt himself grin.

“Heather.” He smiled, cat-like and smug as he could make it. “It’s been a while, how have you been?”

For a moment, he was sure he saw Heather’s shoulders relax, but it was undercut completely by the way she looked him up and down with a scowl.

“ Wonderfully .” She spoke, and moved her hands to gesture back at the house. “I own a house, as you can see, and I have somebody to do all of my chores for me in exchange for free rent.”

At this, Alejandro, who was standing a few metres away as if to consciously keep his distance from the display, let out an indignant sigh, and tapped his foot on the ground impatiently.

“Heather, you’re-” He started, but Heather whipped her head around and glared at him.

“Shut it, if you’re going out with him then I get to talk to him first, remember? That’s what you did with Court on Saturday.”

Noah snorted, and at Alejandro’s resigned muttering that Heather countered with a middle finger, she spun back around and raised an eyebrow.

“What?” She scowled.

“Nothing.” Noah grinned, and held up his hands defensively. She could probably kill him right now if she wanted to, and he got the sense that if he said anything wrong, she might try to throw him in front of a passing car. “It’s just- you’re a home-owner and you’ve got a personal assistant? Congratulations, Jeez, you’ve done better than most of us after, uh, y’know.”

As he spoke, the frown on Heather’s face slowly melted away, leaving her with an almost blank, confused expression as she stared at him. It was almost like she was trying to examine him, to pick apart his brain from the outside and gauge what he was really thinking. It made Noah shiver; A cold, calculating gaze staring him down like a vulture.

But after a few moments, her gaze softened, – only a tiny bit. – and she tilted her head.

“...Thanks.” She hummed, as if not entirely sure if he was being genuine. “I did win the million, after all. What about you? Is Chris as much of an asshole as he was before?”

Noah sighed, and rolled his eyes. This made Heather smirk, and a tiny little inkling that he just might be passing her test made the corners of his lips quirk up again.

“I’m… good.” He started, and ran a hand consciously through his hair. “Chris has mellowed out a bit, y’know, less sending me on life-or-death missions for a coffee, and he didn’t make me work on Revenge of the Island, if you were wondering.”

Heather grinned, somehow both friendly and malicious at the same time.

“I was, actually.” She hummed, and to Noah’s relief, she stepped backwards, and began to walk back towards the house. “Tell him ‘ Fuck you. ’ for me.”

Noah grinned, and waved. “Will do, Heather .”

He could practically hear her roll her eyes.

“Goodbye, Noah , make sure Alejandro buys the good brand of laundry detergent, this time.”

Noah didn’t respond, but he watched as Heather sauntered up the steps to the front door and slammed it so aggressively that the entire neighbourhood probably heard it. He let out a sigh, and internally bracing himself, he gently placed his hands in his pockets and turned to look at…

… Alejandro .

When Noah turned to look at him, he was still watching Heather disappear into the house, but after a few moments, he turned around, and met his gaze instantly. It seemed like neither of them quite knew what to say, because neither of them spoke for what felt like hours. The light of the sun was reflecting gently off of Alejandro’s hair, and his green eyes looked like pools of moss in a lit-up wood.

He felt nauseous.

But there was something worse about standing around in silence than talking to his sworn enemy, so eventually, he let a nervous smile appear on his face, and he ran a hand through his hair.

“...Hey.” He hummed, and Alejandro’s politely-friendly expression burst into a look of pure elation.

“ Hello .” he smiled, and Noah could feel the smile on his face growing.

Gwen liked to talk about the feeling of reuniting with your other half. Noah remembered reading the short stories she wrote about two soulmates finding each other after hardship, two best friends finally reuniting after years apart, two halves of one soul meeting again like they had never been apart. She had some kind of weird fascination with it, one that Noah’s never really understood.

…Until right now, at this very moment, when he feels like he’s finally flying again.

“...So.” He spoke, the smile evident in his voice as he leaned back against the car door, and stared fondly at Alejandro. “I was thinking we should get coffee first?”

Alejandro tilted his head to the side, and when Noah gestured to the passenger side of the car, he let out a chuckle, and practically pranced over to the car door, opening it with a click as Noah slid down into his seat.

“It’s like you read my mind, dear Noah.”

–

Café. (12:26pm.)

As it turns out, getting coffee was the best decision Noah’s ever made.

“I thought you were more of a fancy coffee order’ kind of guy.” Noah hummed as he sat down at the wooden table across from Alejandro. Since Alejandro had only just moved to town, Noah had driven him to one of his favourite coffee shops; a quaint little building only a few minutes drive away from work, covered in ivy and warm with yellow light. “And seriously, you didn’t have to pay.”

The drive had been mostly quiet, Noah’s fingers drumming on the wheel as the radio buzzed from the speakers, and Alejandro humming quietly along to the songs he knew. Honestly, he had expected it to be uncomfortable at the least, borderline panic-attack inducing at the most, but honestly… The silence was comforting. It reminded him of the late nights spent awake in the Jumbo Jet’s cargo hold, both of them simply sitting in comfortable silence as the droning of other players' voices danced in from the vents. It was comforting, and the fact that it was comforting eased something in Noah’s stomach.

When they had reached the cafe, Noah had gone straight to the counter to say hello to his favourite barista, and order them both coffee. He had asked Alejandro what he wanted, and he had answered;

“A latte, please.”

And so along with his own mocha, he ordered a latte, and before he could pull his own card out of his wallet, Alejandro had swiped his over the card reader.

“Ah, but you’re driving us around for the day, it’s only polite.” He smiled, and Noah leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table with a smile. The grin on Alejandro's face hadn’t left since they had met eyes ten minutes ago, and he leaned back in his chair with a hum.

“Well-” He began, but stopped. Who was he to deny a free coffee? If Alejandro already paid, what was he complaining about? Instead, Noah let out a sigh. “...That makes sense, thank you.”

Alejandro let out a non-committal hum, and waved a hand over his shoulder in nonchalance.

“It’s nothing, dear Noah.” He smiled, and Noah rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, getting back to the nicknames already?” He snorted, and Alejandro was about to reply, before he continued to speak. “Are there any chores you need to do other than grocery shopping?”

Alejandro paused, and narrowed his eyes in thought. Noah remembered his thinking face well, and he let out a breath through his nose and he glanced around the cafe. They were situated next to one of the large windows overlooking the open plaza they were in. It was surprisingly empty for lunchtime, and Noah could see dark, cumulonimbus clouds rolling in from the distance.

That’s a thunderstorm. He thought as he stared. They were a pretty long way away, so it looked like they had several hours until the storm actually hit them, but still. He thought that he could see tiny cracks of light within the clouds, lightning , but he simply tilted his head in curiosity, and turned his gaze back to Alejandro expectantly.

“Hm.” he hummed, and Noah grinned at the uncertainty on his face. “I need to go to the pet store, I believe we’re out of kitty litter and we need some more bird feed…”

Noah blinked.

“Birdfeed? Kitty litter? You have pets? ” He furrowed his eyebrows, and Alejandro let out a snort. “You do not seem like the type of person to own a cat- or a bird for that matter-”

Alejandro rolled his eyes, and grinned across at him as Noah gaped.

“Well, the cat belongs to Heather, yes, but the bird is mine.”

“ What? What breed is the cat? What type of bird is it? What are their names? I feel like this should’ve been discussed already.” He questioned, and Alejandro chuckled, pulling out his phone, presumably to show him a picture of one or more of the animals. Noah leaned forward intently, and blinked at the boy before him as he started to speak.

“The cat’s name is Diana, and she’s an abyssinian.” He spoke, and Noah let out a hum as Alejandro spun his phone around to show him a picture of a short-haired, orange cat that was cuddling up to Heather on a grey couch. She looked very friendly. “She’s four in two months, and she didn’t like me very much when we first moved in with her.”

Noah tilted his head with a grin. “I’m assuming ‘ we ’ means you and the bird?”

Alejandro nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, the bird is a hyacinth macaw, and his name is Apollo.” He smiled, and Noah furrowed his eyebrows again.

“Jesus, aren’t those things huge ?” He gaped, and almost gasped when Alejandro turned his phone around again to show him a picture of a large, royal blue bird, perched happily on Alejandro’s outstretched arm. It wasn’t that big, but the fact that he kept it in his house surprised Noah more than anything.

“He’s gorgeous .” He murmured, and Alejandro chuckled, obviously pleased.

“Isn’t he? I’ve had him since I was five, so he’s about fourteen.” He smiled, and Noah leaned back in his chair, eyes wide. “They can live for up to seventy five years in captivity, you know, so he will be around for as long as myself.”

“That’s- C hrist , I can barely imagine that.” He hummed, and rested his chin on his hand as he gazed across the table. “How much space does he take up?”

“Ah, he has free reign of the house when one of us is home, but when we’re out, he has a large enclosure in the garden.” He grinned, and Noah could tell that talking about Apollo the hyacinth macaw brought about a sense of pride in the boy across from him. He looked like he cared about that bird more than his own family members. “Heather is in no way a gardener, so she does not mind.”

“Really? I always got the sense that she really cared about her own space…” He hummed, and Alejandro shrugged his shoulders.

“She was the one who asked me to live with her, after we dated, of course. She values her space, but I believe she doesn’t like living alone.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, and leaned back in his chair. Alejandro looked extremely content, and he couldn’t help but soften his gaze as the other boy looked curiously around the store.

“...I kind of get that, living alone is a little, uh, isolating sometimes.”

This made Alejandro’s brow furrowed, and he let out an almost-concerned hum.

“You don’t have any roommates?” Was all he said, and Noah reluctantly shook his head.

“Chris pays some of my rent, and I make enough that I don’t need any.” He shrugged, and Alejandro’s eyebrows furrowed further.

“Chris pays your-? I’m going to circle back to that.” Alejandro tilted his head in confusion, and Noah had to resist the urge to snort. “But, are you lonely in your apartment? Do you… want roommates?”

Noah frowned, and gazed down at the table. It looked like maple if he were to guess, but as he tapped his fingers on the light wooden surface, he pondered Alejandro’s question. He had never thought about how lonely he felt in his apartment before; He missed waking up to the smell of breakfast already cooking, and he thought there was something quietly endearing about doing two people’s laundry instead of one. He kind of wished there was another person in the bedroom down the hall, and every now and then, the couch in his living room felt a little bit too empty.

…But then he thought about how he was woken up every second day by a plethora of text messages, mostly pointless in nature, but somebody reaching out to him nonetheless. He thought about how his kitchen had somehow become the ritual house for dinners and board game nights. He thought about how, despite the fact that he didn't have any roommates, his house was very rarely empty for more than a few days at a time.

“...I don’t think so.” He hummed, and out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as Alejandro furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m not disconnected or anything; Most of my friends live within walking distance from me, and they’re constantly texting me for something. They show up at my house randomly, and while it’s a little bit annoying sometimes, It makes the apartment feel a little bit more like home.”

He paused for a second, but before Alejandro could say anything, he continued.

“Plus.” He smiled. “I don’t think roommates would be able to handle Izzy, Eva, and Owen all at once.”

At this, Alejandro paled, and Noah let out a snort as he shook his head vigorously.

“I could not handle just Izzy and Owen back on the Jumbo Jet.” He cringed, and Noah chuckled. “I have never met Eva, but from her description, she… ah, she does not sound like my type of person.”

Noah grinned, and rolled his eyes at Alejandro’s response.

“She’s the Iron Woman, stronger than practically the entire Killer Bass team combined .” He joked, and something in Alejandro’s expression eased, as he began to laugh. “She could beat anybody from Total drama in a wrestling match, and I stand by that.”

“Even Dj?”

“ Especially Dj.” He smiled, placing his hands on the table decisively. “He’s too scared to even speak to her, still . She would destroy him, hands down.”

“Oh really?” Alejandro raised a cunning eyebrow, and something in Noah’s stomach lit up like a blazing fire. “Why, you’re quite the hype man, Noah. What about Tyler? He pulled the sleigh in the Yukon, remember?”

Noah grinned, and nodded.

“He’s too clumsy, he’d probably fall right out of the ring.”

“But-” Alejandro interrupted, but Noah already knew what he was going to say.

“ But , if he didn’t, Eva would still beat the shit out of him. They did an arm wrestling contest last October, and she fractured his wrist in three seconds.”

Alejandro gaped, but quickly shook himself out of it as he grinned. He seemed to be taking this as a bit of a challenge, and it made Noah’s insides flip. (Positively, this time.)

“Sierra?”

“She’s too easy to distract, and I know she dragged the boats back in Niagara Brawls , but Eva could match that easily.”

“What about Lightning, from the recent season?”

“ Lightning ?” He spoke, an incredulous tone in his voice to cover up the way his stomach lurched at the mention of Revenge of the Island. “Let me tell you a secret, Alejandro; That guy is genuinely the biggest idiot I’ve ever met, and I still talk to Lindsay .”

Alejandro smirked, obviously amused.

“From watching the show, I could gather.” He hummed, and Noah leaned forward with a grin, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“ I could beat him up, dude. All it would take is that ball trick from Paris, and he’d be so distracted that even I could take him down .”

For a second, Alejandro looked entirely shocked. There was something in his eyes that made Noah’s face heat up, and he leaned back.

“...Eva’s smart, she’d be able to do the same.” He finished, and Alejandro opened his mouth to say something, before a man walked over holding two ceramic cups of coffee.

“One mocha and one latte, right?” He smiled, and Alejandro blinked, hard, and nodded gratefully.

“Yes, that is correct.” He smiled, and the waiter placed the cups on the wooden table.

“Enjoy!” He grinned, and if his eyes lingered between the two of them for just a moment too long, Noah didn’t pay any mind to it. Noah always ordered his mocha with a little bit of extra hot chocolate, so when he blew gently onto the drink in his mug and sipped carefully, the taste of hot coffee and chocolate flooded over his taste buds, and he let out a tiny, tired sigh.

In front of him, Alejandro did very similarly, blowing into his mug and taking a long gulp of coffee instead of a careful sip like himself.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, sipping their coffee, and listening to the quiet music playing from the cafe’s speakers. It was something classical, but Noah couldn’t quite figure out what before Alejandro spoke once more.

“...You said that you needed to go to the dry-cleaners?” He questioned, and Noah gently placed his mug down on its saucer. “What are you getting dry-cleaned?”

Noah hummed, and tilted his head.

“Just a suit, I haven’t cleaned it in a while, so…”

“A suit?” Alejandro raised a suggestive eyebrow, and Noah felt his face growing hot, so he averted his gaze down to the coffee in front of him. “Why, is there something special you need it dry-cleaned for, dear Noah?”

“ No- I mean-” He rolled his eyes, and picked up the coffee cup once again. He took a long, fast gulp and the coffee scalded the roof of his mouth. “It’s not like that , Jesus, I haven’t- whatever, uh- I’m going to Chris with the Gemmies in a month, and he’s supposed to be taking me ‘suit shopping’ tomorrow. I think that the suit I already own is perfectly fine for this kind of thing, so I'm thinking that if I get it properly cleaned, he won't make me.”

As he spoke, Alejandro’s mischievous smile only grew larger, and his gaze flickered around, obviously looking out the window at the car, where said-suit was being held.

“I have not known Chris for as long as you have.” He replied, and Noah sunk lower into his seat with a sigh, cradling his ceramic for dear life. “...But I don't believe that cleaning the suit is going to do much for you, mi amigo.”

Noah groaned. “Seriously?”

“Unfortunately.” He nodded, rather gravely. “You work for him , of all people, you should know how stubborn that, ah- asshole is.”

He snorted, and took another long gulp. The sooner the coffee entered his bloodstream, the sooner he would start to feel a little bit less like death itself.

“Optimism is key when working with Chris-fucking-McLean.” He grumbled, and Alejandro grinned at him. “I was holding out a little bit of hope…”

“Ah, well, sometimes hope is futile.” The other boy mused, and Noah raised a curious eyebrow. He didn’t elaborate, however, and instead, took a gulp of his drink and leaned forward. “I have one more.”

“...One more… what?”

“One more ‘ Would Eva Win ’ question.”

Noah tilted his head and the cup knocked gently against the table. “Alright, go ahead.”

Alejandro seemed to pause for a second, before he furrowed his eyebrows, and met his gaze with a smirk.

“What about Izzy ?” He questioned, and Noah paused.

What about Izzy? Sure, she wasn’t as strong as Eva, and while she was a tactical genius, he wasn’t sure that that in itself was enough to beat her. Of course, there were her acrobatic skills, and her uncanny ability to know when an attack is coming at her, but all of that could be counteracted by- oh .

“Eva would still win.” He stated, matter of factly, as Alejandro furrowed his eyebrows.

“...Really?” He frowned, and tilted his head. “After everything she did during the competition? How ?”

“...It’s less of a matter of physical strength in this case.” He hummed, and watched as the boy in front of him listened intently. “There’s more to consider with these two, y’know? They know each other so well, so neither of them have any element of surprise or secret-advantage over the other.”

“Ah?”

“Mhm. Izzy’s insane , I’ve never met anyone like her, and I just don’t think Eva can match her when it comes to speed or agility, but…” He rested his chin on his hands, and stared intently at Alejandro. “...Eva would still win, because Izzy knows how much the pride of being undefeatable means to her, and she- christ , she’s so head-over-heels in love with her that she’s willing to lose a fight, I think.”

For a few seconds, Alejandro was silent. Noah thought he was going to say something about how Izzy would never let herself be beaten, but there was something about the way his eyes glinted, that made Noah a little bit confused.

“...Alejandro?”

“Izzy’s in love with Eva?” Alejandro spoke, finally , and Noah raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“Yeah, and Eva’s in love with Izzy. I think they know it’s mutual, but neither of them have done anything about it yet. It’s kind of sweet, but it means that they always team up against me and Owen for board-games… What, are you homophobic or something?”

Alejandro jolted up with a start, and shook his head vigorously. Noah snorted, and soon, as the boy across from him began to mutter protests, the snort turned into full on laughter.

“ No, I am not homophobic, I’m just surprised!” He spoke, and took a large, quick sip of his latte. Between the laughs, Noah could see a light flush settled against his cheeks. “They just- I did not pin Eva as Izzy’s type, nor the other way around.”

Noah rolled his eyes as his laughs subsided, and he gazed down at the cup in his hand. He had downed almost the entire thing, and the only bits left were the chocolate-coffee dregs at the bottom. It looked like Alejandro had drunk the coffee just as quickly, because when he placed the cup hastily down on its saucer, there didn’t seem to be any liquid left inside of it.

“Yeah, well.” He sighed, and downed the dregs at the bottom of his mug. It was bitter, more coffee than chocolate, but they sent a buzz down his spine and he grimaced. “You kind of have to see it to believe it. I don’t know how either of them work, or how they justify it inside their heads, but honestly? Since they brought both of them back to the Island in season one…”

The last part of his sentence was lilted with a type of mocking-suggestiveness, and Alejandro let out a curious sigh, leaning back into his chair with a grin.

“I will have to see it one day, hm?” He hummed, and glanced down at the coffee cups in front of him. Noah blinked, and shook his head with a chuckle. Maybe he could come to movie-night sometime?

“I guess you will.” He smiled, and gestured across the table at his mug. “...Are you done?”

Alejandro nodded.

“It was delicious.” He hummed, and Noah felt his smile growing. “Unfortunately, savouring drinks like this is not within my ability.”

“Mine neither.” He grinned, and stood from his seat, picking up the two plates and their cups. “We should get going, I’m assuming Heather wants you to go to the good pet-store?”

Alejandro stretched his arms over his head and let out an amused sound of agreement.

“Yes, nothing but the best for Diana the cat.” He sighed, and when Noah snorted, he whisked the two plates from his hands and began to carry them towards the counter, where a ‘Put your Mugs’ sign was sitting. Noah let out a few grumbled curses, but he followed, and waved goodbye to the barista’s as they walked out of the cafe.

The sun above them was still shining, but the breeze was getting colder, and the air felt almost electric around him. It felt like the beginnings of a storm was brewing, and when Noah gazed across the horizon, the shelf of cumulonimbus clouds were three times closer than he expected them to be.

“But, I believe the dry-cleaners are closer, and I would like to see the infamous suit you so desperately want to wear.” He smiled, and Noah rolled his eyes, flipping him off as he began to walk towards the car.

“Whatever, the sooner we get everything done, the sooner I get to go home.” He groaned, and Alejandro practically began to skip beside him, a fake-dejected expression on his face.

“You want to get rid of me already?” He frowned, and Noah fake-scowled, opening the passenger door and practically shoving Alejandro into it.

“Yes, I do, now get in the car, eel, we have errands to run.”

As he slammed the door he could hear Alejandro’s chuckling from outside the car. It was a sound he remembered very clearly, one that had been repeating in his dreams for the past couple of days more than ever before. But as he walked around to the drivers side of the car, he found that it wasn’t filling him with the dread it used to.

–

The Dry Cleaners. (1:07pm.)

“...I hate to agree with him, mi amigo, but Chris may be right on this one.”

“Stop.”

They were standing outside the dry-cleaners and Noah was suffering. After a fifteen minute drive filled with lively conversation and near-constant criticism of the radio’s music taste, they had arrived at the building on the corner, and Noah had reluctantly pulled out the suit he had been planning to wear to the Gemmie awards. It was a dark grey with a light blue tie, and while Noah didn’t love it , it wasn’t such an abomination that he was willing to be dragged around by Chris for three hours to buy a new one.

…Both Chris and Alejandro, however, evidently did not agree with the sentiment.

“It is completely unflattering, it will wash you out and the tie is atrocious.” Alejandro frowned, and shook his head. When Noah showed him the suit, his smile had faded dramatically, and was replaced with a look of immense disappointment. It simply made Noah sigh. Alejandro was not the only person who had reacted this way.

“Like you know anything about fashion, it’s fine .” He huffed, and began walking towards the dry-cleaners from the car. Alejandro began to trail after him, speeding up slightly so that they were walking side-by-side. Their height-difference was the same as Noah remembered it to be; not so different that it was too noticeable, but just enough so that he would have to look up at him if they were to stand too close…

…When would they ever need to be standing too close?

“I seem to know more about fashion than you .” He made a face, and Noah pushed ahead so that he entered the dry-cleaners first. At first he didn’t see anybody there, but as Alejandro moved up next to him, a man with a pencil behind his ear and a teenager – that looked rather similar to him – walked in from a side door.

“Ah, hey there!” The man grinned, and turned to face him. “What can I do for you today?”

“Hi.” Noah smiled and held the suit out in front of him. “I need this dry-cleaned.”

“Well of course you do, here, let me take that from you, that’s what we- oh.”

The man didn’t seem to quite look at the suit until it was in his own hands, and Noah watched as his smile faded when he looked in between him and the suit.

“...This is your suit?” The man raised an eyebrow, and Noah seemed to deflate, and he stared down at the counter.

“...Yeah.” He muttered, and next to him, Alejandro had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing. “Can i, uh-”

“Oh, yes- Here, Oliver, take this , Come over here to the cash register.”

So Noah walked over to the cash register, and out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as the teenager looked down at the suit and muttered a tiny… “ Ew.”

Alejandro nudged him gently in the ribs.

“I told you.” He murmured, and Noah sighed.

“ Stop .”

—

In The Car. (1:22pm)

“...Why do you only have three radio stations?”

“I usually connect my phone to the speaker when I'm driving, but I was running late to pick you up so I, uh, didn’t have time.”

“Ah, so I am missing out on the chance to hear your music taste?”

“...I don’t think my taste is the same as yours, dude.”

“I would still like to hear it.” Alejandro smiled, and turned to face him.

Noah sighed, and holding onto the wheel with one hand, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on the bluetooth connection. His phone connected to the speakers automatically, and he nonchalantly passed it over to Alejandro, already unlocked.

“The, uh, the playlist with the planets as the cover is the one I listen to most.”

“...It’s called ‘ +4 Constitution ’?”

He cringed, and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Alejandro’s smile grow.

“It’s a Dungeons and Dragons thing, just play the playlist, asshole.”

“As you wish, dear Noah.”

—

In the Car. (Five minutes later.)

“...Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing, It’s just…”

“Spit it out, Alejandro.”

“...This playlist is very, ah, how do I put this…?”

“...Good?”

“...Emo.”

“...”

“...”

“Get out of my car.”

—

At the Pet Store. (1:43pm)

“Why is the ‘ good’ pet store like half an hour's drive away from your house, Alejandro.” Noah groaned as he followed the other boy into the store. After a long drive of Alejandro criticising his music taste, they had finally arrived at the pet store across town.

“Because it's more accessible to the wealthy people of the city.” He mused, and Noah huffed.

Admittedly, the pet-store was extremely nice. It was situated on the outskirts of a mall, so it wasn’t difficult for them to find parking, and the outer-walls were made of shiny white concrete. It looked like the sign had been freshly washed, because even though the clouds were beginning to roll over the sky, it still gleamed in the light of the sky above.

Noah didn’t often shop in places like this, and when he stepped foot in the pet-store, onto the tiled flooring and surrounded by non-fluorescent lights, he felt like that was only reinforced.

“Jesus, this is a fuckin’ fancy pet store.” He muttered as Alejandro led him down to the aisle of cat stuff. “You’ve only been here for what, a week? How do you know this place even exists?”

Alejandro shrugged, and stopped in front of the kitty-litter.

“We went to the same chain back when we lived in our old place, simply a different branch.” He hummed, and leaned down to inspect the bags. “Heather’s family shops here exclusively, and she herself has so many purchases under her belt that I believe she makes up fifty percent of their sales.”

Noah snorted, and leaned down to look at the bags Alejandro was looking at. He had never owned a cat, but he cringed at the price anyway; something told him that kitty-litter should not be that expensive. His thoughts were undercut by Alejandro’s voice flooding his ears once again.

“May I ask you something?” He spoke, and Noah turned to look at him. He was still reading the prices on the bags, but every couple of seconds, his gaze would flick over to him, and they would make brief, electrifying eye contact.

“Sure.”

Alejandro hesitated for a second, before he let out a hum, and turned to face him properly as he picked up a bag.

“Do you play dungeons and dragons? You mentioned it in the car.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, and the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

“Yeah, I do, or, well, I did, our latest campaign just ended, and we haven’t had time to start a new one.” He replied, and as he started talking, he realised that if he didn’t stop, his mouth would begin to move faster than his thoughts, so he snapped it shut, and grinned. “Why? Do you play?”

Alejandro shrugged, and began to walk in the opposite direction away from him and probably towards the bird-seed.

“I have dabbled, but I’ve never played a full campaign, nobody I knew was willing to face the commitment.” He sighed, and Noah’s eyes widened as he sped up to walk next to him.

“I thought you were going to say no.” He gaped, and next to him, Alejandro chuckled, smiling fondly. The sight made Noah dig his fingernails into the hem of his shirt, and he raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Alejandro Burromuetto is a closet nerd ?”

Alejandro once again stopped, and rolled his eyes as he turned to face him.

“You of all people should know, dungeons and dragons is not enough to make you a nerd, dear Noah.” He mused, and Noah smirked.

“What, I would know because I'm a nerd?”

“Exactly.” He hummed, amused, and turned to look at the bird-seed, specifically for parrots. “Why don’t you tell me about your most recent campaign, you seem rather excited about it.”

Noah paused.

“...You actually want to hear about it?” he questioned, narrowing his eyes defensively. Alejandro glanced away from the birdseed to smile at him, and he could feel his gaze soften.

“That is why I asked, isn’t it?” He joked, and Noah felt his stomach flip over like a pancake.

He remembered this feeling. Like every other interaction he had with Alejandro it reminded him of the plane, the long flights from country to country. That being said, he was all but happy to oblige, if it meant that he got to talk about dnd to somebody other than his former party-members.

“Well, the whole campaign was based around space-pirates up in a far away galaxy.” He started, and Alejandro raised an eyebrow. “-And we were all on a quest to reach this planet that we thought would solve all our problems, because it was rumoured to be home to these powerful, celestial beings that could grant wishes.”

“More original than I thought it was going to be.” Alejandro mused, and Noah gently elbowed him in the side as they began to walk back to the counter.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. My character was an elf-sorcerer named Magic, who was searching for the truth of what happened to his sister after she disappeared off their planet when they were children; but , because it was sci-fi, all of the spells that he cast were like cool science experiments and stuff.”

Noah paused to take a breath, and he glanced across at Alejandro to see an expression that he couldn’t quite make out. He was smiling, the corners of his eyes creasing more genuinely than they had for the past few hours. And there was something in his eyes, something that looked so warm Noah couldn’t help but falter in his steps. It looked so much like the sun that he felt like Icarus, flying so close to the warmth of the stars that his wax wings would melt, and he'd inevitably go plummeting down into the sea.

If he was Icarus, flying towards the sun in a frenzy of newfound joy and freedom, who was Daedalus? Who was the person that warned him about Alejandro, whose efforts were futile in stopping his son’s fall into the deep, dark ocean? It could be Gwen, Cody, maybe even Owen after their dinner the week before, but whoever it was, Noah was sure that like Icarus, their warnings wouldn’t be heard; He could already feel his wings melting, he could sense his imminent fall into the deep.

But when Alejandro slowed his steps when Noah stopped walking completely, he shook his head, and blinked.

“Are you alright, Noah?” he frowned, and Noah let out a hum of nonchalance.

“Yeah, I just got lost in my thoughts, where was I?”

Alejandro smiled, and spun around as they reached the check-out. The woman working there grinned as he paid for the birdseed, and as the two of them walked out of the store, Noah looked up to see the sky covered with dark clouds.

“...How long were we in that pet-store, christ.” He muttered, and Alejandro let out a low, slightly concerned hum.

“I must text Heather to take the laundry off the line.” He muttered, and Noah let out a snort of amusement. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know.” He grinned, and Alejandro raised an eyebrow. “It’s nothing. I swear.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, It’s just interesting that that’s your first response to the way everything just got ten times darker outside.” He hummed, and Alejandro cracked a grin.

“It is important to have clean clothes, I don’t want them to be ruined by the rain that I believe is about to pour down.” He smirked as Noah rolled his eyes. “Now, I believe that you were telling me about your dnd campaign?”

Noah grinned, and as they sauntered towards the car, he began to speak again. The air was cold, and while there wasn’t yet any rain, he could hear the distant crackling of thunder.

“Okay, yeah. Our whole party was a group of space pirates from a bunch of different places. Owen was from a planet where everything was green and earthy, so his character – a gnome-druid, was super nervous about being in space, and Izzy…”

—

In the car. (Again.) (1:50pm)

“...So you’re telling me that despite three sessions of only preparation, half of you still died?”

“Ugh, yeah! It wasn’t even the big bad, either, it was just a one-off quest…”

—

The Chemist. ( 3:02pm)

“Your hair-gel is so expensive that they don’t sell it at the regular store?” Noah raised an eyebrow, and as Alejandro handed the cashier his card, he nodded sagely.

“Sometimes the price for good-looks is exuberant amounts of money.”

“...You’re insane.”

—

The Bakery. (3:56pm)

“You already paid for my coffee.”

“I can pay for your lunch as well, near Noah, it is no trouble.”

“Well it’s not even really lunch anymore, it’s, what, three thirty?” Noah spoke, and let out a groan as Alejandro tapped his card onto the reader, paying for both of their pastries.

“Do not try to divert.” Alejandro mused, whisking their two plates away to a small table in the corner of the store. Noah simply sighed, and with a shake of his head, began to follow Alejandro to the table.

—

The Grocery Store (Finally.) (6:32pm)

The store is just as cold as outside, even-more so, if you consider that they were walking down the refrigerated-food aisle.

It’s shockingly empty, so much so that Noah’s only seen three other people since they set foot through the doors – other than the workers, of course – and all three of them had been on their way out. The lights above them are yellow, fluorescent, and beat down on them like an icy sun, burning into their retinas and curling into the back of their skulls.

Due to the lighting, the lack of customers, and the dark clouds covering the sky outside, everything felt a little off-kilter. He could feel the lightning crackling in the air like electric eels- eels - and even from inside the store, he could hear the ominous cracking of thunder.

“Is this your shopping for the week? He murmured, and Alejandro turned to look at him. They had taken to speaking in almost-whispers as they walked, in fear of accidentally inciting unwanted attention from a worker, or maybe a ghost.

“Hm? Yes, it is, one of us would usually have gone on Sunday, but as you suggested we go today, we decided to wait.” He replied, and smiled. Noah pulled a packet of gnocchi from the refrigerated shelf, dropped it in his basket, and Alejandro led the two of them around the corner towards the bread.

“That’s cool.” He replied, but stopped before he walked into the aisle. A single, flickering light hung above the pathway, despite the three others that for some reason, were not turned on. It looked ominous, and Noah pursed his lips.

“Alejandro?” He whispered, and next to him, no longer pushing his trolly, Alejandro hummed.

“Noah.” He responded, and for a few moments, neither of them spoke.

“...This is a little bit terrifying.”

“I agree.”

Noah frowned, and stared down the aisle; dark, ominous, and smelling faintly like bread.

“What do we do?” He whispered, and Alejandro turned to look at him, a vaguely determined expression on his face.

“We must soldier on, my dear Noah, both of us need bread.” He responded, and Noah let out a long, drawn-out sigh as he watched Alejandro step forward into the aisle. Probably-not surprisingly, nothing out of the ordinary happened, so he reluctantly followed after him.

The bread aisle fed into muesli-bars and nuts, and when Noah had quickly tossed the bread into his basket, he made his way over to the muesli-bar section, and out of the corner of his eyes. Caught sight of a very specific blue box.

“ Finally .” He murmured, and slowly spun around to face Alejandro when he made a curious humming sound. “Yeah?”

“Chocolate oat slices.” He stated, very matter-of-factly, a humorous tone in his voice as Noah rolled his eyes, dropping the box into his basket.

“Shut it, Gwen loves them.” He muttered happily, and Alejandro raised an eyebrow.

“Gwen? As in the ‘ boyfriend stealer ’ Gwen?” He questioned, an edge to his voice that made the smile on Noah’s face falter a little bit. He hadn’t heard anybody refer to Gwen as a boyfriend stealer in months, and simply hearing it come out of Alejandro’s mouth made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Don’t call her that.” He spoke, his voice unconsciously raising slightly as he grabbed another box off the shelf. “She wasn’t- don’t.”

Alejandro furrowed his eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything, simply waiting for Noah to continue on.

“...Yeah, Gwen from total drama.” He added, and looked down at his basket as he began to walk. It was half-way full, all he had to grab left was toothpaste and soap. “She comes over all the time, so I like to have snacks on hand for her.”

Alejandro hummed, and Noah was relieved to hear that it didn’t have an undertone of animosity beneath it.

“Really? How often?” He spoke, and Noah tilted his head in thought.

“At least once a week.” He smiled, noticing the way that Alejandro’s lips quivered as he raised his eyebrows. “But Izzy, Owen and Eva come around pretty regularly, too. Cody and a few others have too, recently.”

“Ah, yes, you said that the visits were part of the reason you’re not lonely in your apartment.” He mused, and Noah nodded. “It is sweet of you to welcome them so regularly.”

Noah cocked his head, and Alejandro grinned as they swept into the toiletries aisle, halfway across the store. He pulled a bottle of coconut-scented body into his basket, and nonchalantly grabbed two boxes of toothpaste off the shelves, before he shrugged.

“They’re my friends, I care about them and I like having them around.” He murmured, and then furrowed his eyebrows a little bit. “But Owen usually makes dinner while he’s over, and I get to keep the leftovers; and Gwen’s painted at least a fourth of the art on the walls, so it’s kind of like a bonus.”

“She paints?” Alejandro raised his eyebrows, seemingly genuinely a little bit surprised. “I thought she was more of a writer?”

“She does both. Some of her short-stories are fantastic, but she was trained into painting when she was a kid, so she’s really good.”

For a few seconds, Alejandro didn’t respond, instead simply dropping a pink bar of soap into his cart, and frowning a little bit. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it felt kind of like Alejandro wanted to voice something that he hadn’t yet. 

As they strolled through the aisle, the sound of rain began to patter down onto the roof. It started off quietly, but within a matter of seconds, He could hear it beating down like a constant sound of thunder.

“Holy shit, that’s-”

“Does she take commissions?”

Noah snapped his mouth shut, and turned to look at Alejandro, almost confused. He was looking at him with a hopeful expression on his face, and Noah frowned.

“...Gwen?”

“Yes. I believe we have one of her paintings in the house, I would like another one.” He spoke, and the frown on Noah’s face turned into a surprised grin.

“You have one of her paintings?” He questioned, and Alejandro nodded enthusiastically. “Which one? I might recognise it.”

Alejandro scratched the back of his neck in thought for a moment, before his eyes lit up.

“It’s a ballerina in a pink tutu, dancing across a stage.” He started, and Noah’s mind began racing. He remembered a ballerina, but Gwen had said that it was just a passion project of hers, and that she didn’t intend to do anything with it… How it ended up in Heather and Alejandro's house, he didn’t know. “The ballerina looks uncannily like Heather with longer hair, and she brought it home a few months ago. Come to think of it, she never told me where she got it from, but it’s signed in the bottom right corner with a cursive ‘G’.”

“Oh my god. ” He gaped, and snapped his eyes up to meet Alejandro’s. “She was painting that for Heather? You're kidding me.”

“I am not .” He replied, and clapped his hands together. “I’ll have to send you a picture, it’s beautiful .”

Noah’s grin softened into a fond smile, and he nodded.

“All of them are. I can ask her for you, if you’d like.”

“That would be wonderful .” Alejandro mused, and Noah let out a chuckle as they continued onwards.

—

After paying for their groceries at the desolate checkout, making a mad-dash through the torrential downpour from the sky above, and laughing hysterically about getting completely soaked through, Noah ran his fingers along the steering wheel and let out a content sigh.

“Is that all the errands you needed to run?” He murmured, voice soft, yet loud enough to fill the car amidst the rain.

Alejandro let out a warm, tired hum. His head was tilted back, and he was staring up at the car’s ceiling. Noah, truthfully, had no idea what he was thinking about, but he looked peaceful, so peaceful that Noah kind of didn’t want him to answer.

“Yes, that is everything.” He responded, and tilted his head to look at him. His eyes reflected the raindrops splattering across the windows, and Noah had to return his gaze to the steering wheel to stop him from saying something we shouldn’t. “We should do this again, soon.”

At this, Noah raised an eyebrow.

“...I can do next Sunday?”

Alejandro’s face lit up, and Noah could practically feel the wax dripping onto the skin of his back, the wings melting, sending him to his death.

“I can do next Sunday, too.” He smiled, and angled his body to face him a little bit better. “Would you be free for say, lunch, sometime before then?”

And Noah practically beamed . There was something about Alejandro that made him want to smile until his cheeks hurt, and he nodded, clicking his seatbelt into place and beginning to reverse out of the parking space.

“I’ll be free for lunch, whichever day you want.” He smiled and Alejandro shifted his own gaze to look out the window. If he was trying to hide his own expression, it didn’t work, because in the window’s reflection, Noah caught a glimpse of a brilliant grin.

The drive back to Alejandro’s house was quiet. Quiet classical music forward from the speakers – courtesy of Alejandro, who had very quickly given up on the so-called ‘emo’ music in Noah’s playlist. – and the heavy rain beat down on the roof of the car like rhythmic drums. Noah tapped gently along the steering wheel, and Alejandro was seemingly content to simply stare out the window.

They had been together at this point for around six hours, and the amount of driving and walking was beginning to take its toll on him. They definitely hadn’t taken the efficient route to any of the stores, and they had spent almost two hours in a cafe, chatting about something he couldn’t even remember. It was busy , but as Noah pulled up in front of Alejandro’s house, and watched the front door swing open, and Heather's face pop out, he turned to look at Alejandro.

He was staring outside, frowning distastefully at the rain. For a few moments, it was like he didn’t realise they had stopped, but when he did, he spun himself around so that he was looking at Noah. When he turned around, a warm, sun-like smile appeared on his face, and Noah’s heart skipped a beat.

“It truly was a pleasure.” He mused, and Noah rolled his eyes with a groan. “I cannot wait for the next time, my dear.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of the car.” He grinned, gesturing at Heather in the doorway, who was walking confidently over with an umbrella over her head. He wasn’t sure if she was coming over to say something to him, or to help Alejandro unload the groceries from the car. “Say hello to Apollo and Diana for me.”

“Of course , goodbye, Noah.” Alejandro nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, and in one swift movement, he clicked open the passenger door and slid out into the rain, slamming it behind him.

Everything was quiet.

Noah watched as Alejandro jogged over to Heather, who seemed to reluctantly hold out another umbrella towards him, before he stepped back over to the trunk of the car, and pulled out his bags of groceries. In the meantime, Noah rolled his eyes as Heather walked up to his side of the car, and impatiently knocked on the window.

To her credit, when he rolled it down, she held the umbrella over the top of them so that the rain didn’t spill in the car.

“How’d it go?” She questioned, and Noah let out a sigh.

“ Hello, Heather, everything is great, thank you . It… It went well, I think.” He responded, and the pleased look on Heather's face grew.

“Good, he looks so happy he might explode.” She drawled, glancing over to where he was hauling groceries inside the front of the house. She rolled her eyes, but Noah could see a tiny inkling of fondness behind her exasperation. “I’ve got a favour to ask you.”

Noah raised an eyebrow.

“Is this something else to do with Alejandro? I’m not going to mess with him for you, dude-”

“ No , it has nothing to do with Alejandro.” She interrupted, scowling down at him from where she was leaning in the window. “I need you to tell Gwen to answer my fuckin’ texts.”

He paused, and narrowed his eyes, staring at Heather in confusion.

“...She’s not answering your texts either?”

Heather shook her head, and her scowl deepened with something akin to concern.

“No, she’s not . I think it has something to do with Saturday, she and Court got into a… Whatever, if she texts you, tell me, alright?”

“...Will do.” He replied, and he frowned. If Gwen wasn’t answering either of their texts, then where was she? And what did Heather mean by ‘her and Court’? Heather began to walk away, but bore she could leave, Noah blinked, hard, and called out to her again.

“Wait! Hold on, one more thing.”

“What, nerd?” She groaned, doubling back and scowling at him. “It’s cold out here and I just washed my hair.”

He paused for a second, before he tilted his head in curiosity.

“...Do you have one of Gwen’s paintings? Of a ballerina?”

It was like Heather froze. The already iron-grip she had on the umbrella handle increased so much that her knuckles went white, and she stared down at him with an expression of shock so filled with confusion and animosity that he didn’t know what to do. It seemed, he thought, that the question touched a nerve.

But instead of answering, heather simply spun around, and began to march off towards the house.

“Goodbye, Noah, don’t crash.” She called, but there was something behind the tone of voice that made Noah uneasy. He rolled up the window, and from the still-open front door, he could see Alejandro waving happily from under the tiny awning; that made the uneasy feeling disappear.

When Alejandro’s figure disappeared inside the house, he spent a few minutes simply staring outside through the pouring rain at the door he disappeared into.

…All he could think about was the warm, aching feeling in his chest as Alejandro smiled at him. The only thing left after melting wings, was a plummet down into the sea.

—

As he drove, the air inside the car was warm. The heater was at full blast, and outside, the thundering of rain droned on like the perfect backing track to the end of a day. It wasn’t cold enough for the droplets of water to turn into hail, at least, and he hoped that it would remain that way.

He liked driving enough to not mind driving around in the rain, so instead of being plagued with fear of crashing, or getting swerved into by an oncoming truck, he thought about his day.

Alejandro was so familiar to him, in almost every way he could imagine. He remembered his laugh, his smile, the way he opened doors with only two fingers instead of his whole hand. He remembered the way he would push his hair out of his face, and the way he would do a double take every time he saw himself on a reflective surface.

It was so familiar it made him want to cry, whether it was out of happiness or fear, he wasn’t yet sure, but Christ , if there was any person in the world that he had known in some kind of past life, in an alternate reality, maybe, it would be him.

Before long, he pulled up at a small intersection across from the park near his house. He could see the sea of green trees in front of him, and when he- What the fuck?

When he looked out the window in front, he could see a woman walking down the street. She had no umbrella, and she was wearing a short black skirt with a dark green turtleneck. Her hair was short and choppy, and dyed a very familiar shade of green and teal…

Holy shit, it was Gwen .

Seeing as the light was red, he pulled out his phone, quickly scrolled to her contact, and pressed the call button. From his vantage point, he watched as she pulled her phone out of her pocket, looked at the caller ID, and shoved it back into the fabric of her skirt.

“What the hell is she doing?” He gaped, furrowing his eyebrows as she turned the corner. “She could have called me if she needed a lift…”

The moment the light turned green, instead of going straight like he was supposed to to get to his house, he turned the corner without an indicator and quickly slid into an open parking-space next to her. There weren’t any cars around for him to piss off, so he rolled down his window. Instantly, the rain began to pour in.

“ Gwen ?!” He yelled, shielding his eyes and leaning out the window. He watched as she whipped her head around, and scowled.

“ Get lost, freak !” She yelled back, but when she looked closer, she faltered, and took a few steps closer to the car. “... Noah ?!”

He could see what looked like tear tracks running down her cheeks, and non-waterproof makeup smudged from the rain.

“ What the fuck are you doing out here? Are you okay?!” He frowned, and something in Gwen’s eyes lit up.

The wind was howling, and the rain was thundering down so hard that he’s sure he was already soaked through once again. Gwen looked like she was on the verge of losing it, but in a flash, she was standing in front of the window, shielding him from the rain, and giving him a blinding smile.

She did not look okay in the slightest .

But when she spoke, voice lowered to the point where neither of them needed to yell to be heard above the rain, something electrifying was sent up Noah’s spine, and he couldn’t help but tilt his head in curiosity.

“Noah.” She grinned, kneeling down so they were at eye-level with each other. “Do you want to go to the park with me?”

Chapter Text

“This is fucking insane! ” He scowled, slamming the car door behind him, and running after Gwen, who, after he had muttered an exasperated ‘why?”, had begun to prance away and into the green sea of trees and grass.

He could barely see more than a few feet in front of him, and in less than a minute, he could feel the rain seeping through his skin and imbedding itself into his bones. Unfortunately, not only was it raining so hard that it was all he could hear, but it was also cold ; the wind was blowing so hard that he could practically feel his wet clothing freezing around him, and he knew that if he didn’t hurry up and find some kind of cover – or resolve whatever issues Gwen was having fast – then he was going to wake up the next morning with a cold.

So when he began to lose sight of Gwen through the winding trees of the park, he began to run, trying not to trip over any cracks in the path and narrowly avoiding running into a bench placed obnoxiously in his way. He had to squint to stop the rain from stinging his eyes, and finally , after what seemed like hours (But what was probably just a minute, at most.), he slid to a stop in front of Gwen, who had been practically skipping ahead of him.

“Where the hell are we going?!” He yelled, attempting to be heard above the rain. Above him, a clap of thunder seemed to shake the trees, and after only a few seconds, a crack of lightning lit up the sky. “What is wrong with you?!”

Gwen’s face, much to his horror, was light with something akin to glee. Her eyes were wide, and glazed over like she wasn’t entirely present in the moment. Her eyeliner was running down her face and smudged dramatically by the rain, and when he looked down, he could see her hands shaking uncontrollably, like she had been out in the cold for a long time already.

It made Noah nervous, and in a clumsy movement, before she could dart away again, he snatched her wrists up into his own hands.

Her skin was colder than the dead, and when his gaze flicked up to meet her own, her eyes were so filled with terrifying-delight that he had to resist the urge to take a step backwards. All he could do was lower his voice and furrow his eyebrows with concern.

“Gwen?” He murmured, voice drowned out by the thundering rain, but It was almost like Gwen could hear him anyway, because she blinked down at him with an anxious smile.

“We’re going on an adventure.” She grinned, and leaned down towards him. He shivered. “It'll be fun , don’t worry.”

“Jesus Chr- Hey !” He scowled, tripping over his own feet as Gwen yanked her arms backwards to escape his grip. For a moment, Noah thought he was going to fall, but in one, swift movement, she grabbed his hand and began to lead him hurriedly down the park’s main pathway.

There was nobody else in sight, and Noah suddenly felt a deep seated feeling of dread build up in his stomach as they rounded a sharp corner. That seemed to happen pretty often, lately.

“At least tell me what’s going on!” He gritted his teeth and lifted up his other hand in an attempt to shield his eyes from the rain. She didn’t even turn to look at him, instead letting out a nervous… no, exhilarated laugh as he scowled.

“Nothing is going on!” She yelled above the howling winds, and picked up her pace. Noah, whose hand was still trapped in her iron grip, was forced to walk faster too. “Everything is great! Sisyphus has pushed the boulder up the hill, Noah! He’s free .”

Noah’s blood ran cold, or, at least colder than it already had, considering the rain beating down on his skin. Gwen’s fascination with Greek myth wasn’t a well-kept secret, but there was something about her tone of voice when she said the word ‘ free ’ that made his stomach roll over and tie itself into knots.

“Sisyphus never- the boulder will just roll down again, what are you talking about?” He scowled, and Gwen's hand twitched in his own. “You haven’t been answering any texts or calls, where have you-”

“Lost my phone!” She grinned, and her grip tightened on his wrist. “I don’t know when, but it’s not in my pockets anymore.”

She’s lost it . He grimaced, and when Gwen started to move faster, he had to break into a jog to ensure he wasn’t just being dragged along. The look in her eyes made him think that something bad – what, he didn’t yet know. – had happened, something that had fucked with her enough to send her out into the freezing storm with no raincoat, something that made her cry so hard it made her waterproof mascara run.

“Jesus, if you lost your phone then you could’ve come over! You live five minutes away!” He yelled, a hit of desperation slipping into his voice as his hair whipped into his face. “We were worried , Gwen!”

For a moment, she faltered, but then continued to move, increasing her pace to a run. She looked like she was about to burst, but Noah could no longer see the expression on her face from where he was running before him.

“...Who’s we? !”

“Me and Heather! Honestly, where the fuck is your phone and where the fuck are we going?”

“ Heather?! ” She yelled, something frantic about the way she said the other girl’s name, and for a moment, let go of his hand to spin around and face him. The look on her face was one of shocked animosity, and her eyes were narrowed, her lips sneered into a scowl.

It made him take a step backwards, but in a swift movement, she grabbed his wrist once again and continued to yank him down the path.

“Yeah, Heather! She sounded like she cared-”

“She hasn’t cared in seven months ! She doesn’t have a right to care anymore!” Gwen snapped, and Noah raised his eyebrows in shocked confusion.

“Why not? What happened ?! Gwen, it’s cold , I can drive you home!” He frowned, and yanked her backwards so that she finally stopped.

Gwen whipped her head around and scowled at him, the amusement in her expression now replaced with pure, unadulterated resentment.

“I don’t need you to drive me home-”

“You don’t have a phone and you’re soaked through!” He pleaded, and Gwen dropped his hand with a frustrated yell, taking a few steps backwards and shaking her head.

“That’s not any of your fucking-”

“Yes it is! Why are you out here? Heather said-” He started, before Gwen ran a frustrated hand through her hair with a groan. It was like there was something going on that he didn’t understand, something that he couldn’t become privy to the details to, unless he-

“ Fuck whatever Heather said!”

-Unless he found out why it was happening, but whatever that was, amidst the icy rain, and the clapping of thunder, he didn’t know.

Think, Noah … He thought, keeping his eyes trained onto Gwen like she might run if he didn’t. There has to be something- Oh- oh my god.

“Did you and-” He opened his mouth, but it was like Gwen could tell what he was about to say, because she shook her head once more, and began to walk backwards with a scowl.

“Shut it, Noah!” She yelled, but the next words practically flew out of Noah’s mouth like a prayer to Apollo for the end of the black plague.

“ Did you get into some kind of fight with Courtney? !” He scowled, and almost instantly, Gwen stopped.

It was like every ounce of energy drained from her body. The tension in her shoulders seemed to melt away, and the defensive look on her face fell. She blinked, and Noah watched as her eyes focused, blinking rapidly as she stared at him. The simple sound of Courtney’s name seemed to jolt her back into herself, and the exhilaration flitting through her blood and dancing behind her features was replaced with something akin to exhaustion.

For a few moments, her gaze danced around the park, and a bright flash of lightning lit up the trees. It made her jump, and her eyes snapped back to Noah, who, amidst the pouring rain, took a gentle step towards her.

“...Gwen?” He murmured, not for the first time that day, but unlike any other time in the last twelve hours, he watched as Gwen let out a shuddering breath, and grip the hem of her skirt so hard that her knuckles went white.

For a few moments, she didn’t say anything, but eventually, barely loud enough to be heard above the rain, she spoke.

“...Yeah, something like that.” She murmured, her teeth chattering, and voice cracking at the end of her sentence, but it made his shoulders slump with relief.

When he gazed around the park, still squinting against the pouring rain, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, one of the park’s small pavilions standing solitary in a clearing of trees. It was still cold, and the wind was still whipping around them and splashing droplets across their faces, but the pavilion was a shelter, or at least, shelter that was a lot closer than his car was. So he let out a sigh, and raised his arm to point at it; Gwen followed his gaze, and seeming to understand, she nodded.

—

The pavilion was dry, that was the main thing.

The concrete floor was void of water, as the awning on the roof was specifically protecting it from getting wet, and the benches along the edges of its hexagonal walls were dry enough for Noah to sit down with a long, deep breath. It wasn't large by any means, in fact, Noah could probably spread his arms out wide and almost touch the wooden pillars on each side.

…But it didn’t matter that it was small, because it was dry, and the wind seemed to stop the moment that they stepped into it. Noah could feel himself relax as he sat himself down on the bench, but when he blinked up at Gwen, not having taken his eyes off of her since they started walking, he could see her hands shaking, and unease spread across her face. So Noah tilted his head, and gestured to the bench across from him.

“...Do you want to talk about it?” He muttered, and with a gentle snort, Gwen sat herself onto the bench in front of him.

“Do you want to hear about it?” She hummed, voice still quiet, but with a joking edge that eased the tension in his bones.

“Yeah.” He mused, and watched as Gwen drew her knees up to her chest with a sigh. “If you’ll tell me, I'll listen.”

For a few moments, Gwen didn’t say anything, only closing her eyes and slowly breathing in. The green in her hair was more faded than he remembered it being, and he made a mental note to offer to help her dye it again. Eventually, Gwen opened her eyes, looked across at him with a slow, tired blink, and let out a sigh.

“...This might make me seem like a kind-of bad person.” She muttered, tilting her head to the side and gazing off into the torrent of rain outside the pavilion. “But it’s been a year , Noah. I broke up with Duncan less than a month after the show ended, and Courtney’s still so- She-” 

Gwen broke off, scowling out at the rain.

Noah had watched the whole ‘love triangle’ thing play out on television, and since the very beginning of his blossoming friendship with Gwen, he had been very firmly impartial to the entire conflict. Sure, he had been sitting at Gwen's side when Courtney had screamed at her after ‘Hawaiian Style’, and he had been extremely vocally against anybody calling her a ‘boyfriend stealer’, and… Okay, maybe not impartial, but he had recognised why Courtney was upset, and had urged Gwen to give her space.

That had been immediately after the show, and about a month later, when Gwen realised that she wasn’t actually into Duncan whatsoever, she had broken up with him in front of the local art gallery. Supposably, his refusal to pay any mind to her interests and hobbies was her breaking point, and the thirteen minute long video a bystander posted of her chewing him out for being an insensitive dirtbag had made Noah laugh so hard he almost crashed his car.

Honestly, out of anything to come out of the Total Drama Gossip Chain, seeing that video less than a minute after it was posted was probably the thing he was most grateful for.

But Courtney hadn’t said anything. She still hadn’t responded to any of Gwens texts, and despite having been confirmed to know about the breakup, (She couldn’t have missed it, the story was brought up on several news channels.) she continued to give Gwen dirty looks whenever there was a majority-cast reunion.

But after a few months, Courtney had reached out, and Gwen had spiralled into a web of romantic feelings and debilitating guilt, all seemingly, leading up to a moment like this.

“...Angry?” He finished, and Gwen buried her face into her knees.

“Angry, defensive, cynical .” She murmured, voice muffled. “They weren’t- she and Duncan weren’t even dating at the time, they hadn’t talked for two months before world-tour started and all they ever did was argue . I don’t- I thought we had made some progress, at least .”

“You thought ?” He hummed questioningly. He couldn’t see Gwens face, but from where her arms were wrapped around her knees, he watched her dig her fingernails into her calves, and he winced. “ Dude , don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself.”

At this, she glanced up, and pulled her hands away with a grimace. Little half-moon indents were left in her skin, and she rubbed them absentmindedly with her thumb.

“...Sorry. Yeah, I thought .” She frowned, a hostile edge to her voice. “We were- god, Noah, it’s so stupid .”

“...That’s okay.” He hummed, shifting so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bench. Gwen blinked at him, and he gestured around gently with his hands. “Stupid doesn’t mean, uh, unimportant?”

She let out a snort, and rolled her eyes when Noah couldn’t stop the proud grin that twitched at the corner of his lips. He had never been very good at reassuring people, but in this case, it seemed as though his efforts were good enough.

“Wow, you’re such a wordsmith.” She muttered, the beginnings of a smile appearing, but then fading when she opened her mouth to speak again. “...After Cody and Sierra left, it was just Courtney, Heather and I.”

Noah raised an eyebrow.

“We had gotten ice cream, from this place Sierra knew, and we weren’t- I was sober by then, because after you called I didn’t get anymore drinks from the, uh, the lunch place. Cody was fine, but Heather, Sierra and Court were- well, they had, uh, champagne at the cafe and Heather-”

“ Gwen .” He interrupted, furrowing his eyebrows as her gaze snapped up to him again. “You’re rambling.”

“ Oh , shit, I’m sorry- okay, uh, We had just gotten ice cream, and Cody said that he had some work to do, and Sierra didn’t want him to go by himself, so she left with him.” She hummed, and lifted her arm to run a hand through her till-dripping hair. The expression on her face was distant, and Noah had to bite his cheek to stop himself from saying anything. “But Heather, Courtney and I went for a walk down to the fountain in the square, because Heather hasn’t been here long and I- uh, we wanted to show her around.”

Noah leaned forward slightly, and Gwen blew a piece of hair out of her face.

“So we were walking, and eventually we reached the fountain, and, honestly, i don’t know what we were talking about leading up to this point, but we were talking about how Geoff and Bridgette had gotten back together on thursday, and I mentioned that I was hanging out with Bridgette more lately-”

“-Because she’s learning how to play the drums, right?” The news of Bridgette and Geoff getting back together was news for him, and unfortunately for him, it meant that he had lost the bet. Gwen nodded, and let out a weak laugh as she adjusted herself so that she was sitting cross legged too. She was shivering.

“Yeah, she’s wanted my help a lot.” She sniffed, and her voice cracked at the end of her sentence. “And- I mentioned that I was hanging out with Bridgette a lot lately, and Courtney said- her first response was… ‘ Have you kissed Geoff yet, then? ’”

Noah gapped, a jolt of electricity jumping up his spine like he had been struck by lightning.

“ You’re kidding .” His eyes widened, and Gwen averted her gaze to the concrete ground, her lips pressed into a firm grimace. “Gwen, seriously?”

“Yeah.” She croaked, and Noah felt his blood start to heat up. What the hell ? What kind of audacity did Courtney even have? “And I didn’t know how to answer, so I just said ‘ What ?’, and she scowled at me and said something like ‘ Oh, your friend just reunited with her boyfriend, she got back together with him, that means you have to kiss him now, right? You have to break them up like you broke up me and -’”

“ Oh my god .”

“And I didn’t- She was practically yelling, and she was- she just kept going, and I didn’t know how to respond so I just froze. Heather, I don’t know- heather tried to get her to be quiet, and stop insulting me, but she didn’t, and- Jesus Christ , I started yelling back because I wanted her to stop . I don’t remember what I said, but before I knew it I was sitting in a metal chair at another café, and Heather was wiping the tears off my cheeks with a napkin.”

Noah opened his mouth, then closed it again instantly. He didn’t know how to respond, so he simply sat, watching Gwen wipe aggressively at her cheek with the sleeve of her shirt; He didn’t have any words to convey the surprise he felt.

For a few moments, the two of them simply sat there, the sound of rain echoing around them and the cracking of lightning and thunder breaking through the torrent of droplets. But after a while, Gwen spoke once again.

“...Then she drove me home, and we- then-'' She paused, seemingly thinking about her next words. “...There was an ABBA song on the radio, and- I think I was trying not to think about it so i- but now I'm here, and- and I’m soaking wet and I’ve- I’ve lost my phone.”

Noah didn’t know what to say, so he leaned backwards to rest against the wall again.

“...Jesus, Gwen, you could have called me.” He murmured, and Gwen let out a long, tired sigh as she slumped her head forward. It was like simply telling the story had taken any remaining bit of energy from her, and he resisted the unusual urge to lean forward again and wrap her into a hug.

“...No, I couldn't've. I had already told Heather I was fine, and if she had found out that I had called you, but hadn’t let her stay… I promised her, Noah.”

Gwen broke off again, and Noah raised a concerned eyebrow. There was something going on with Heather and Gwen that neither of them seemed to want to tell him. The ballerina painting, the ‘promise’, whatever it was, it felt deeper than he could possibly comprehend.

“What did you promise her?” He muttered, and an exasperatedly-fond smile flashed across Gwens face. For a few seconds, she hesitated, but eventually, gently shook her head.

“...That’s a story for another time, I think.” She hummed, and Noah decided to let it drop. It didn’t seem like she needed another thing to worry about right now.

“That’s okay.” He muttered, and Gwen looked up at him, a surprisingly apologetic look in her eyes. It made Noah frown, and slowly, he leaned forward, and reached across the gap between them to pat her ankle gently. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Gwen simply let out a hum, and placed her hand softly on top of his for a second.

“...I tried really hard, Noah, I’ve been so nice to her.” She muttered, staring down at her lap with what he could assume was some sort of melancholy frown. It made his stomach roll over, and his blood felt white hot. “But it kind of feels like all the progress we’ve made has been… I don’t know, destroyed .”

It was Noah’s turn to let out a hum. On one hand, it was obvious that Gwen would forgive Courtney the moment she apologised, assuming she hadn’t already, and she just hadn’t had her phone to see. But on the other hand, what Courtney had said was just downright mean . She had known how much the whole ‘boyfriend stealer’ thing had upset Gwen, and during the last few months she had been just as vocal about how shitty the whole thing was as he had been.

It just seemed so… out of character, especially considering how careful Courtney always was with her words. But as he stared out at the rain, seemingly slowing down, though not by much, he let out a sigh.

“Do you think she was just tipsy?” He muttered, and Gwen let out a small laugh, leaning backwards and tipping her head back.

“She was very tipsy, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t- that doesn’t mean it wasn’t shitty.” She murmured, a smile playing on the corner of her lips, much to Noah’s delight. “But who knows, maybe she wants to apologise…”

Noah nodded, and blew into his hands. Despite the rain slowing down, it was still freezing cold, and getting colder as it slowly got darker. When he breathed, he could see his breath fanning out in front of his face like a cloud of steam.

“Maybe she has. You haven’t got your phone on you, right? She might have called, or texted.”

Gwen breathed out through her nose. She wasn’t looking at him any more, and Noah watched as her gaze drifted around the pavilion, eventually landing on the outside walkway. As he watched her, watched her eyelashes flutter gently over her eyes and watched her delicately painted fingernails run across the skin of her legs, he was struck with the thought that she truly was extraordinarily pretty. What Courtney didn’t see in her… well, he had no idea.

“She might have.” She murmured, and for a while, the two of them simply sat there. The rain continued to pour around them, and the pavilion provided them shelter from the wind. Thunder cracked, and after a few long moments, Noah realised that it was getting a little bit too dark.

“...Gwen.” He spoke, and Gwen’s gaze fell onto him once more. “It’s getting late.”

Gwen raised an eyebrow, and as she looked around, gazing about the pavilion, she seemed to realise as well.

“Oh, shit.” She muttered, wrapping her arms around herself as if in an attempt to warm herself up. “We should- I should, um.” 

She trailed off. Noah hoisted himself slowly to his feet, and in a gentle movement, almost as if not to startle her, he held out his hand to pull her up as well. After a moment of hesitation, she took it, and the two of them were gazing out the entrance of the pavilion, out at the dark trees and howling winds. It suddenly struck Noah that Gwen might, after everything, be intending to walk home herself, so he turned to look at her, a stern look across his features.

“ You are staying over at my place tonight.” He spoke, and Gwen's eyes widened. “I don’t- it’s not that I don’t trust you to uh, be by yourself or something, but I'd like to have you over, I want the company.”

“...Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, her voice quiet.

“Yeah, honestly, I’ve had a long day and your company is more refreshing than being alone.” He slumped his shoulders, and Gwen let out a snort. Good.

“...Okay.” She hummed, and rolled her shoulders back determinedly. She looked more like herself than an hour ago, like she had reconnected with her soul and her body once more. “Shall we go then, my favourite nerd?”

My favourite nerd . He grinned, and readied himself to step back out into the rain.

“Faster we get it done, the better.” He groaned, and with a delighted, familiar laugh, Gwen jumped out into the open air, like a free man with wings of wax and feathers.

…Wings of wax and feathers. Just as Noah sprinted after her, something jolted up his spine, and the skin beneath his collar began to itch. But he ignored it in favour of chasing after Gwen, both running like mad back to the car parked precariously down a side-street. 

—

The mad-dash to the car was exhilarating, so much so that both of them were almost completely out of breath by the time they reached it. All the energy they had left was spent tumbling into the seats with unrelenting giggles, and turning the radio up upon realising they were playing a selection of the Smiths greatest hits. (Trent had managed to turn them both onto the Smith’s halfway through the year before, and much to Noah’s displeasure, he seemed like he was trying to do the same thing with Radiohead.)

The drive to Noah’s apartment was filled with singing and more giggling, and it wasn’t until the two of them stepped inside the threshold, that the exhaustion truly seemed to overtake them both.

Noah’s day had been pretty good, but extremely long and filled with moments he would need to contemplate before he went to sleep that night, and Gwen seemed like she had had a pretty bad couple of days, so much so that she could probably collapse right onto his couch if he let her.

However, he didn’t let her, and with only a minimal amount of protest, he dropped a towel into her arms and shoved her into the bathroom for a shower.

“Your conditioner and soap are in the cabinet!” He called, smiling as Gwen called back a jovial;

“I know! Thank you, are you sure you don’t want one first?”

Noah shook his head, and rolled his eyes. Something good about Chris Mclean inc. and Sadist Enterprises was that they managed to put him in an apartment where the hot water didn’t run out in five minutes.

“Yes, now go! I’ll put some clothes outside the door for you, take as long as you need, or whatever.”

The response from Gwen was an exasperated laugh, and he heard the sound of the faucet being turned, the sound of the shower began to fill his ears. He let out a tired sigh, and quickly moved to pull a set of Gwen's pyjamas from his closet. She stayed over enough that he’s managed to collect a few items of her clothing, and he’s pretty sure that she’s done the same for him over the months. As he moved to shut the closet door, he eyed one of Izzy’s shirts sitting next to Gwen's clothes, and made the mental note to text her the next day.

Soon, the clothes were sitting in front of the bathroom door, and he collapsed down onto the couch, finally pulling out his phone and scrolling through his notifications. He furrowed his eyebrows; he hadn’t been gone for that long, but there were a lot of them.

His eyes were immediately caught by Alejandro’s name at the top of his screen, and his lips twitched into a smile as he stared at the phone.

Alejandro -

I had a wonderful time to day, dear Noah 

We should do this again soon xx :) 

For some reason, it made Noah’s heart flutter a little bit in his chest, but when he began to look through his other messages, the smile slowly began to fade. There were a plethora of messages from Cody and Heather, and an exceedingly large amount from an unknown number. There also seemed to be some from various group chats, and with an exasperated sigh, he clicked on the page of messages from Cody first.

Almost instantly, his mouth went dry, and he couldn’t decide whether or not to be concerned or confused. All of the messages from Cody were some variation of ‘ Have you seen Gwen ?’ or ‘ We think she’s missing ’.

“Oh, shit.” He muttered, and when he looked at Heather’s texts, it was pretty much the same, only a little bit more frantic, and a whole lot more aggressive. The unknown number, however, seemed to be the most concerning, because all of their messages were twice as long as the others.

Unknown number-

You haven’t seen her recently, have you? Seriously, Noah, I know you’ve probably heard about what happened, but you can’t keep information that could be relevant.

I had been drinking, I didn’t mean it!, I swear.

Can you please text me back?

I know this is so out of character but I'm really worried and I don’t know what to do.

I went to her apartment to see her since she wasn’t responding to my texts, and I found her phone smashed in the stairwell.

Please tell me you’ve heard from her?

This is Courtney, by the way.

“Oh, shit .” He muttered again. It was Courtney, frantically texting him because she thought that Gwen was missing. Scratch that, she was frantically texting him because the entire Total Drama Gossip Chain thought that Gwen was missing, and he was, presumably, the only person who needed to confirm that they hadn’t seen Gwen recently before they all went into full-blown panic mode.

…Actually, it seemed like they had already gone into full-blown panic mode, judging by the messages. As he continued to read through, he heard the shower stop.

Gwen wasn’t missing, she was here , taking a shower in his bathroom. That made him groan. He was going to have to do a little bit of explaining to her when she re-appeared in the living room, and he gently rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

He also should confirm to his worried friends that Gwen was, in fact, completely safe. So he flicked back over to Heather's contact, ignoring a notification from Tyler. (Dude, have u seen Gwen??? Is she missing??? - to be specific.) Besides Courtney, she seemed to be the most worried, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Courtney anything right now. So he typed out a message:

Noah -

Hey, she’s okay, and at my place. She was at the park and she lost her phone.

The second he got the message, the screen blinked with an incoming call, and the same instant, he answered it.

“Hi. She’s alright.” He spoke, and the receiver cracked with pure, unadulterated anger.

“ Give her the phone, Noah, right now .” Heather responded, and if he didn’t know better, he would be sure that he could hear a shake in her voice. “ If you’re lying to me, then so help me god, nerd, I will- ”

“Jesus Christ, Heather, why would I lie to you about that?” He snapped, and sighed into the phone when Heather stopped. “She’s in the shower, and she doesn’t know that you guys think she’s missing, I didn’t know you thought she was missing until ten minutes ago.”

“ And you didn’t tell us she was with you the minute you found out?! ” He could practically hear Heather's scowling through the receiver, and he wondered, was Alejandro listening to her right now? Was he bearing witness to whatever breakdown Heather was having? Did he know why Heather was so concerned over whether or not Gwen was okay?

“I had like two hundred messages to read! Do you know how many people you reached in less than an hour? Harold texted me, Harold . Has he ever even talked to Gwen before?”

“ That’s not the point, dweeb! Just- ” She paused, and he could hear her take a breath. “... I’m giving the phone to Alejandro, but the moment she gets out of that fucking shower, you give the phone to her, capiche ?”

Noah hesitated for a moment, so Alejandro was listening.

“...Do you promise not to scream at her the moment you hear her voice.”

This made Heather hesitate, and for a few moments, the line was silent.

“.. .I’m not going to yell at her .” She eventually spoke, and there was an undercurrent of anxiety so strong that Noa almost had the mind to apologise. “ I promise, nerd. ”

“...Cool, I’ll tell her when she gets out.”

He didn’t get a response back from her, but he heard the scuffling of the phone being handed across to somebody else, and his ears were suddenly graced with the sound of a voice all too familiar to him, especially within the recent couple of hours.

“ Noah .” Alejandro spoke, voice smooth, and ten times as calm as Heathers. It made Noah’s stomach twist, and a smile played at the corner of his lips as he held the phone up to his ear.

“Alejandro.” He replied, and Alejandro let out a light, musical laugh that seemed to warm his entire body. “I haven’t heard from you in so long.”

“ Truly, what, has it been months ?” The other joked, and Noah snorted. He couldn't see the other boy’s face, but he could hear his smile through his words, and a tiny part of him wished that he looked just as star-struck as he felt. There was something so exhilarating about the sound of Alejandro’s voice in his ear, something warm, something like the sun.

“Honestly, we need to talk more.” He hummed, and across the line, he heard the sounds of movement, and what he could imagine was somebody sinking down onto a couch. “How have the last few hours been?”

Alejandro let out a long, tired sigh, and he leaned backwards, tipping his head over the top of the couch.

“ My dear Noah, they truly have been eventful .” He murmured, as if attempting to hide his voice from somebody, most likely Heather. “ Everything was normal for half an hour or so, but then Courtney called Heather to ask about Gwen, and- ah, I believe you’re aware of the general consensus .”

“Did they not think about the fact that maybe Gwen just didn’t want to see Courtney?” He groaned, and Alejandro chuckled into the phone. “I understand the worry about the phone, but jeez, jumping directly to ‘missing person’ was a little bit drastic.”

“ If you found my phone smashed in a concrete stairwell after I didn’t answer the door, you would be worried too, no? ” He hummed, and Noah could hear the smile on his face. “ I swear, I really believed that Heather was going to faint when she saw your message .”

Noah raised an eyebrow, and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the door to the bathroom slide open, and Gwen’s figure slipped out.

“She was that worried?”

“ Yes .” Alejandro responded, and Noah frowned, as Gwen began to walk over, she raised her eyebrows, and he waved his hand around in front of him in vague explanation. She simply stopped walking, and crossed her arms, looking just as confused as Noah had ten minutes ago. “ She was… Stressed, to say the least .”

Noah let out a hum of concern, and after a brief pause of comfortable silence, he spoke again.

“Gwen’s out of the shower.” He muttered, and watched Gwen tilt her head, mouthing the words ‘ who’re you talking to ?’ “You should give the phone back.”

Alejandro let out a disappointed sigh, and Noah could hear him stand up again.

“ Yes I should… ” He paused, and after a moment, he piped up again, and Noah blinked. “ But before I do, Noah, I truly did enjoy spending time with you today .”

Noah raised his eyebrows, and he could feel a blush creeping across his cheeks like a sunburn.

“...You did?” He said, his mouth dry.

And he heard Alejandro chuckle, and Heather’s exasperated voice began to drift into the receiver.

“ Every moment of it .”

 He didn’t get a chance to respond before Heather’s voice was flowing through the receiver, and in one swift moment, he pulled the phone from his ear and he looked up at Gwen, who was now staring at him with a kind of half-smirk in her face.

“...Was that Alejandro?” She spoke, and when Noah looked at her guiltily, her smug expression was replaced with a concerned frown. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I think I have very little time to explain, so here we go.” He took a breath, and stood from the couch, ignoring the wave of iron-deficiency induced dizziness that followed. “Courtney went over to your house a few hours ago, and when you didn’t answer the door, she left, and found your phone in the stairwell, extremely smashed. So she called Heather about it, and since you haven’t answered anybody’s texts for two days, they came to the conclusion that you went missing.”

“What ?” Gwen gaped, and he began to walk towards her, holding the phone out in front of him.

“Yeah, and they thought that until I told them that you were here like ten minutes ago, and now Heather’s on the phone and really wants to talk to you, so, uh, here you go.”

“ What?! ” Gwen’s voice raised, and she began to back away from him with her hands defensively out in front of her. “I don’t want to talk to her! She’s going to get so mad, dude!”

“I made her promise she wouldn’t yell.” He hissed, and shoved the phone into Gwen's hands decisively. “I’ll go have a shower and give you some privacy.”

“ Noah !” She scowled, and when she saw that he wasn’t going to back down, she raised the phone to her ear and frowned. He was almost sure he heard her voice soften.

“...Heather?” She murmured, and it seemed like Heather kept her promise to not instantly start screaming at her, because he watched as some of the tension eased from her shoulders, and she moved to sit down on the couch, wrapping her arms around herself. “...Yeah, I'm okay, I’m sorry I-”

He decided that this was not his conversation to hear, so he spun around, and with a long, tired sigh, made his way to the bathroom, the sound of Gwen’s voice fading behind him.

–

His shower was a lot longer than Gwens, long enough for him to once again, scrub his skin raw, and stare tiredly into the fogged up mirror.

He felt the scars along his torso start to itch, and he had tiredly pulled a shirt over his head, a pair of shorts over his legs, and ran a hand down his face in exasperation. He had had a long, long day, and simply looking at the mascara tube sitting on his counter made him think about the car drives, the coffee shop, the grocery store.

He hadn’t twisted the cap back onto it that morning, no, he hadn’t had time; Gwen must have done it for him.

So as he walked out of the bathroom and watched Gwen lower the phone from her ear, running an exhausted hand down her face, he had simply walked over, collapsed down onto the couch next to her, and draped a blanket over his legs with a sigh.

The next thing he knew, he was leaning up against Gwen’s shoulder, the two of them buried in the various blankets draped around the living room, and staring blankly across the room at the blank television. Gwen was doing the same, and they sat in comfortable silence as rain continued to beat against the windows.

They sat in silence, until Noah heard the phone on the other side of the couch vibrate, and he was suddenly unable to keep his questions to himself.

“...How’d Heather go?” He murmured, not shifting his gaze from where it was set. Gwen simply let out a hum, and a sigh.

“It was…” She hesitated. “It was good. She was nice.”

“...She was nice?”

“...Yeah.” Gwen responded, and Noah got the hint. There was something going on between them that he couldn’t figure out, and for the time being, he was content to leave this mystery for later.

“That’s good.” He hummed, and Gwen nodded. They lapsed back into a gentle silence, not tired enough to sleep, but too tired to move. That was until Gwen shifted, adjusting herself so that she was sitting cross-legged, and facing him. Noah let himself slide further into the couch, twisting his head so that he was looking at her. She looked tired, but her hair was brushed and her makeup had been removed, so he raised a content eyebrow.

“You went out with Alejandro today?” She questioned, and Noah hesitated. Answering the question with a yes would lead to more questions that he didn’t feel like answering, but answering with a no would just be straight-up lying. He didn’t think Gwen deserved to be lied to, today.

“...I did.” He muttered, and it was Gwen’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

As he braced himself for a plethora of questions, he let out a tired sigh, and buried his face into a blanket. However, the only thing that came out of Gwen’s mouth was a warm, tired chuckle, and a quiet;

“Did you have fun?”

So Noah looked up, and to his surprise, Gwen’s expression was a mix of concern, and an inexplicable fondness that made the concern look all the more real. She was resting her elbow on the back of the couch, and her head was resting on her hand. After a few moments, he let out a hum of affirmation, and his eyes fluttered closed.

“I did have fun.” He mused, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips as he blinked his eyes open again. Gwen’s concerned expression was still there, but she was smiling now, seemingly content with the fact that he enjoyed himself. “...I like spending time with him. Did you know he has a bird? A hyacinth macaw?”

Gwen chuckled, and nodded.

“His name’s Apollo, right?”

“Yeah.”

How she knew, he wasn’t sure, but much like the ‘Heather’ mystery, there was probably some kind of story behind it that would take a little bit too long to unravel completely… Whatever, it was late, and all he could do was drop his head back into the blankets. But for the second time, when he opened his eyes, he saw that Gwen was staring up at the ceiling, and taking a long, deep breath. So he spoke, lightly furrowing his eyebrows.

“...Are you alright?” He muttered, and Gwen tilted her head to look at him slightly, before staring back up at the roof. For a few seconds she didn’t respond, but after a moment, she spoke.

“Y’know, You and Alejandro are kind of like me and Courtney.” She mused, and Noah tilted his head.

“What?”

“Think about it; we both only really met them on World Tour; Courtney and I became friends because we were on the same team, and You and Alejandro met because you were on the same team.” She started, and Noah could feel something building in his gut: understanding. “We were both… Well, is head over heels a good expression? I wasn’t into Courtney at the time, I just wanted to be her friend, but you-”

“-Ugh, don’t remind me.” He muttered, rolling his eyes and shoving his face in the couch cushions.

“-You were, Jesus, you were like… I don’t know, I can’t think of a metaphor. I wasn’t even on your team, but I watched you two disappear into the cargo hold enough times to figure it out. Romance brings something out in you, Noah.”

Noah didn’t raise his head from the cushions but he could feel his cheeks start to warm, and the tips of his ears start to burn . They hadn’t ever talked about his, er, feelings towards Alejandro while on the show, probably because every time it was even slightly mentioned, it was typically to mock him, and he would snap at whoever brought it up like he was a rabid dog.

Simply thinking about it made him want to drown himself in the bathtub, because Jesus Christ , the fact that he had been madly in love with Alejandro both before and after he pushed him off of a plane, did not need to be broadcasted to the world.

…But Gwen wasn’t talking about it to make fun of him, if anything, she was talking about it to make fun of both of them at the same time. Joint-melancholy, shared grief, or something like that. So he snorted, and felt Gwen shift somewhat where she sat.

“That’s a strong word, is it really romance when one party pushes the other out of a plane?” He hummed, and Gwen let out an almost-delirious giggle.

“Romance is like, the feeling associated with love, and the way you were acting, jeez, it’s like you were a completely different person than you were in season one. I don’t know, whatever you felt for Alejandro made you…”

“Stronger? More of a team player? Better?” He grinned, and he could practically hear the smile on Gwen’s face as she replied.

“I think you were already pretty good.”

This made Noah laugh, an exhausted, high-pitched laugh, that in turn, made Gwen start laughing too.

“I was an asshole , dude, you kicked me out after the third challenge in the first season.” He laughed.

“You did that on purpose, you told me you did that on purpose ages ago!” She giggled, and Noah finally raised his head to look at her. She was smiling widely, giggling with laughter, her head still tipped back over the top of the couch. “You were mean because you didn’t want to be here, it was strategic .”

“I regret telling you that.” He muttered, still smiling as Gwen turned to look at him. “You’re making it sound like I evolved or something.”

“You didn’t evolve, you just fell in -”

“ Gwen .” He groaned, and the girl across from him started laughing harder. “You’re saying it, what, made me more determined? Did I gather an army to ‘save’ my wife from the Trojans? Did I kill King Duncan because I thought it would bring us glory? Did I restore greatness to the Holy Roman Empire? I tried to win a million dollars on a reality show, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

But he still couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on his face, and Gwen rolled her eyes.

“Love didn’t turn you into Menelaus, Noah, you didn’t have the pride.” She grinned, and Noah dropped his head back into the couch cushions with a groan.

“Where were you going with this, Gwen?” He said, and Gwen let out an amused hum, falling back into silence as she thought for a few seconds. Noah had a vague feeling that he already knew where she was going with it, but nevertheless, he waited, breathing evenly into the cushions.

“...I’m just saying.” She spoke, her voice softening. “We both… started to get closer to them, during World Tour; you with Alejandro, me with Courtney- but we also lost that on the World Tour. We went from their closest allies on that plane to people they shoved out of a plane in less than an episode.”

Noah didn’t know how to respond, but he raised his head from the couch. Gwen’s face was still tinged with a smile, but her eyes were swimming with something not-quite sadness. Before he could think of something to say, she continued to speak.

“And now we’re both trying to reconcile with them; trying to regain back what we lost.”

“...That’s very melodramatic.” Was all he could summon, and the almost-sadness in Gwen’s eyes disappeared, and was replaced with mock-annoyance.

“I was trying to be poetic, excuse you for not appreciating that.” She rolled her eyes, and Noah scoffed.

He didn’t respond, instead, simply shifting himself so that he was once again leaning up against Gwen’s shoulder. She was warm, and almost instantly, dropped her head onto his own shoulder with a sigh.

“...You should be careful with Alejandro.” Gwen eventually spoke, and Noah snapped his head around, gently, but blinking rapidly in surprise.

“What?” He blurted out, frowning and furrowing his eyebrows; Gwen seemed to realise what she said, and raised her head slightly to blink at him in surprise.

“Not because I think he has a secret agenda or anything- Jesus, I think that’s what I implied there, but-” She breathed. “...People can change, but you were so in love with him before that the realisation he wasn’t who you thought he was got you pushed out of a plane .”

“Gwen-” He muttered, and his mind flashed with images of the ocean, deep, blue waves, melted wax and a smile that looked like the sun. “-I’m not going to- I’m not an idiot-”

“No, you're one of the smartest people I know. But love, hell, crushes make people act out of character. I know from experience, especially when it comes to… those types of people, people who you’ve seen the worst side of already.”

She knows from experience? The type of people who you’ve already seen the worst sides of? What does… He thought, staring across at her intently, when suddenly a thought flashed across his mind. …Heather.

“Gwen, I promise I-” He spoke, but he couldn’t find the words to say what he wanted to say. Is she talking about Heather? He thought, but with a sigh, he simply slumped backwards, tipping his head onto Gwen's shoulder. “...I’ll be careful, but for the record… I think it’s going to be fine.”

“...Good.” She replied, resting her head on top of his. There were a few moments of quiet, before Gwen eventually spoke again, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Don’t be Icarus .” She muttered, and Noah felt his heart start to race . “ Don’t fly too close to the sun , I know he’s attractive, but he's probably not worth drowning for.”

How had she known that that was what he was thinking about? He fought the urge to jolt himself upwards in shock, but the warmth radiating off of Gwen's skin and the feeling of soft blankets against his legs smothered the reaction until it was left bubbling in his chest.

He had his Daedalus, he had heard the warnings. All that was left was for him to fly into the sun.

Chapter Text

“Yellow isn’t your colour, kid-”

“Oh my fucking god, it seems like nothing’s my colour.”

“Jesus, Noah, you’re acting like this is a personal slight against you.”

Noah huffed, and with a long, drawn out sigh, he reluctantly pointed at the dark green suit-jacket resting on the shoulders of a plastic mannequin. For a few moments, Chris tilted his head in thought, but finally , he nodded, and waved it over.

It was twelve-fourteen pm the next day, and making true to his threats, the moment Noah stepped foot into the office that morning, Chris had whisked him away in his big black SUV to go suit shopping; and Jesus Christ, he was so exhausted that he could barely lift his arms to try on the two-thousand jackets the host was making him try on.

The day before had been… interesting, to say the least. First, he had spent the majority of his day with Alejandro, doing chores, and slowly realising, to his horror , that his attitude towards Alejandro was morphing into one similar to how he had felt during World Tour. The sound of Alejandro’s laugh had made his heart skip so many beats that he was scared he was going to have a heart attack, and the way he had spoken to him, carefully, warmly , had made him want to throw himself into the ocean. (In a positive way, he thought.)

It had taken more out of him than he expected, both physically and emotionally, but the real kicker, had been Gwen.

Alejandro had filled him with a kind of romantic-terror, an anticipation for something he was both so excited for, but also something he didn’t want to happen at all; Gwen, however, had filled him with plain, horrified concern.

Gwen, thankfully, was okay, and had shaken him awake that morning exclaiming that ‘if he didn’t get the hell up right now, he was going to be late ’. But, there was something about the way she looked, exhausted, defeated, after she hung up the phone with Heather, that made him shiver. The thought of it still made him shiver, and twelve hours later and thoroughly exhausted.

The night before, he had fallen asleep next to Gwen on the couch, and despite the fact that he somehow hadn’t woken up with the indescribable neck pain he was expecting, he had still almost been extremely late to work, and had almost tripped and fell down the complex stairs in his hurry. He had almost hit somebody with his car, and his frantic rush into the building had been cut off by Chris simply swooping him out the door again, and promising that they would get coffee first before they went to the mall. (He also said that if he was good, they could get ice cream afterwards, but Noah had only rolled his eyes and scoffed.)

But that had led him to now, where he was standing, half-asleep in an extremely fancy formal-wear store, trying on suits more expensive than his own rent.

“...Is this one better?” He rolled his eyes, and Chris let out a thoughtful hum. He was standing with his arms out, now wearing the forest-green suit jacket (As the tag so thoughtfully dubbed it.) and tipping his head back in exasperation.

Besides Chris, the store clerk was also watching him, rather critically, he thought, as he spun around to show Chris the clothing. They had been here for several hours , and when Chris’s eyebrows finally lifted, he wanted to sink into the floor.

“...Yeah that one’s good, kid.” He hummed, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. The sight filled Noah’s chest with a strange sense of pride, and he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Y’know what, better than good, it looks great .”

Noah rolled his eyes and let the jacket drop from his shoulders.

“ Finally , oh my god. We’ve been here for hours.” He groaned, and 

“Hours well spent, little dude. Hey, if you look good in the green, then you might-” He replied, and his blood froze.

“Chris, come on -”

“Yeah, actually, do you have another blue?” He hummed to the store clerk, and with a reluctant nod, and a protestant squeak from Noah, he disappeared into a side door behind the counter. “This won’t take long, you match dark colours better, y’know? Compliments the hair.” 

Noah decided to take this opportunity to sit down. His legs hurt, and he felt blood rushing to his head as he lowered himself down onto the edge of the circular platform he was standing on.

“The only reason they’re letting us stay here for this long is because the amount of money being spent is like twice my weekly pay.” He groaned, resting his chin on his knees. Chris let out a snort, and dropped into one of the leather chairs provided for guests to sit in.

“Well, good thing it isn’t coming out of your weekly salary.” He grinned, and Noah rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s coming out of yours .” He scoffed. Chris looked relatively well put together; his hair was brushed and styled, and tiny pinpricks of eyeliner dotted the corner of his eyes – just the amount a celebrity should have –. But there were rings around his eyes that he hadn’t quite covered with concealer, and a distant look in the corner of his eyes that made Noah look twice at the way he was smiling so easily.

Jesus, the people around him seemed to have tragedy in their blood nowadays.

“What can I say?” Chris grinned, raising a smug eyebrow. “The teams gotta look good when we win another Gemmie, our reputation is worth the price… And I can claim it on my taxes.”

Noah rolled his eyes again.

“Of course that’s what it is. Seriously, dude, I didn’t need you to buy me a new suit.” He muttered, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I know you want us to look good, this is like… thousands of dollars. I could have thrifted something.”

For a few moments, Chris didn’t say much, only stared at him with a slightly judgmental look in his eyes. Noah didn’t quite know how to react. Eventually, the host let out a sigh, and shook his head.

“You could’ve, but here’s the thing, kid.” He spoke, rising to his feet as the worker pushed open the door to the back room, and returned with three more suits in hand; A dark maroon, a deep purple, and a blue so dark it was almost black. “These’ll last you a while, if not an entire lifetime. Thrifted suits, lower quality suits, sure, they’re good for a year or so, but good quality craftsmanship is something that’s worth the money.”

The look on Chris’s face made Noah frown, and he stood up, letting the worker hold the jackets against his chest as both he and the host examined how they looked against his skin. They seemed to be satisfied, happy, even, because Chris clapped his hands together warmly, and the worker nodded, bringing the four accumulated sets up to the counter.

“And, they’re nicer than just plain black tuxedos, yeah? On your own, I'm sure you would’ve picked something… basic.”

At this, Noah huffed, and stepped down off of the platform. Chris smiled, and trailed over to the counter, where he presented a slick, black credit card towards the worker.

“Yeah, but this ‘high quality craftsmanship’ is so expensive.” He stressed, and bit the inside of his cheek when Chris reached up to ruffle his hair.

It wasn’t like Chris hadn’t ever spent this much money on him before, he had bought him a car , for christ’s sake; but there was no good reason he needed to buy him four suit jackets, four matching ties, and four sets of slacks, none at all. He could easily make do with one, in fact, one was probably too much, four was just ludicrous… But, he was starting to get the idea that the purchasing of the suits didn’t actually have anything to do with wanting him to have ‘high quality clothing’, it felt more like an apology than anything else.

But an apology for what, he wasn’t sure. It could be for making him go to the awards show, or maybe an apology for having to hear about Revenge of the Island almost constantly, despite how obviously it made him want to be sick. Maybe it was an apology for making Noah work for Chris in the first place, but the host didn’t have a guilty bone in his body, what use was there for him to grow one now?

It made Noah curious; a new mystery to add to his list of mysteries. But he didn’t say anything more before the host tapped his card on the screen presented to him, and the tiny ‘ ding ’ of an approved transaction bounced around the shop's walls.

“Perfect.” He grinned, and the worker smiled at the two of them politely.

“Wonderful, since we have his measurements-” He hummed, gesturing to Noah and clasping his hands together. “- The tailoring will be done within the week, we’ll give you a call when they’re ready to be picked up.”

Chris nodded, and Noah smiled nervously. Taking his measurements had taken an annoyingly long amount of time, probably because he had been borderline uncooperative, but still.

“That’s great, thanks, Eldon, it was a pleasure doing business with you again.” Chris grinned, waving goodbye to the worker as he began to saunter out of the shop. The worker – Eldon, as it turned out – returned his grin, and nodded.

“As always, Mclean.” He smiled, and flashed a grin at Noah before he began to trail after Chris.

The moment he left the store, he was met with the warm, bright light of the sun. The suit shop was located in one of the large malls a small way from the office. It was one of those places filled with expensive stores on one side, luxury brands and goods unneeded by the general public, however, required by the wealthy. The other side of the mall was filled with the more affordable places, the stores the local teenagers liked to hang around and shoplift clothing from. It isn’t really one of those places Noah makes it a point to go to, but the one part of the mall he enjoys is the ceiling .

The entire roof is practically an installation, entirely made of glass panes to let the sun filter into the building like a butterfly house. The majority of the panes are clear, but there are sections where they’ve been replaced over the years with coloured glass, and projects multicoloured lights across the shopping centre. He thinks it’s extraordinarily pretty, so when he leaves the suit store, he stares at it for a few moments, before jumping to trail after Chris.

“You know that guy by name? He wasn’t wearing a name tag.” Noah raised an eyebrow, and Chris nodded, almost smugly.

“Known him since he started working there, sweet kid, a little impatient, though.” He hummed, glancing over towards Noah before turning back to the pathway ahead of them. Noah didn’t know where they were going, but he got the sense that Chris was leading him on another long, tiring quest for an item of clothing he probably didn’t need. He also got the sense that there was something on Chris’s mind, but what, he didn’t know.

So he rolled his eyes, and wrinkled his nose at the way the host’s shoes clicked against the tile floor, and faltered when Chris swerved to step gracefully onto an escalator.

“Jeez, the fact that you’re a regular at the suit shop makes you seem even more pretentious.” He sniffed, and Chris let out an almost delighted laugh. Noah leaned against the elevator handrail, and watched as Chris spun around, tipping his head back to look at him.

The host raised an eyebrow.

“If you wanna see someone pretentious then look in a mirror , kid. I’m a reality tv star, that’s like the least pretentious career you can have. You, on the other hand…”

Noah scoffed, and rolled, his eyes as Chris elegantly stepped backwards off the escalator.

“You just bought me three $700 suits, and you think I’m- I’m insulted.” Noah crossed his arms, and quickened his pace to match the others. He didn’t feel pretentious, and the fact that Chris would even suggest that made him want to roll his eyes again.

“How many books do you have in your apartment again? And how many of those are classics?”  He hummed, almost mockingly. “I’ve never met anybody else who’s so… what word am I looking for?... Asshole-ish when it comes to reading something written after the 19th century.”

Noah grimaced, and averted his gaze when Chris snorted.

Maybe he had a little bit of a point, but Noah definitely wasn’t as bad as Chris was making him out to be. He also definitely wasn’t the most pretentious person he knew, that title obviously belonged to Harold.

“Okay, sure, but there’s nothing wrong with liking Dostoyevsky.” He grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. At this, Chris turned to look at him.

“...I don’t even know who that is, kid, sounds depressing. ”

“Well it’s Dostoevsky, so of course- What the fuck do you mean you don’t know who Dostoyevsky is?” He faltered, staring incredulously as Chris shrugged, and then speeding up so that he was walking backwards in front of him, the most affronted look that he could possibly muster resting on his face. 

“What? Should I?” Chris questioned, looking more confused than usual, and tilting his head. When Noah gaped, the host let out a snort, and gleefully sidestepped him.

“Are you serious? Like actually?”

“...Did I touch a nerve?” The host mock-cringed, and Noah shook his head at the amused, yet still completely clueless look in the host’s eye. “...Is he one of those sad, politically motivated classic authors you like to read?”

“....What the fuck.”

—

“...Mary shelly? Virginia Woolf? Homer? Seriously ?” Noah spoke, shell shocked, as the host pulled a black, collared shirt off the rack, and held it up against his chest.

To Noah’s surprise, Chris had led the two of them into the Kmart on the other side of the mall, and instantly made a beeline for the button up shirts section. Judging the amount of money that he had just spent on suits, he hadn’t expected the host to buy cheap collared shirts, but the almost-guilty knot forming at the bottom of his stomach eased slightly at the sight of the $20 Kmart clothing.

That being said, the relief over the cheap shirts was overridden by the discovery that Chris didn’t know who Fyodor Dostoyevsky was, which somehow spiraled into Noah questioning him about which authors he had and had-not read, which had culminated in the horrifying truth that Chris truly hadn’t read much at all.

“I read Frankentstein.” Chris grinned, and Noah let out a half-relieved, half incredulous sigh. “Didn’t have time for the Odyssey, or the Iliad or that matter.”

That was understandable, at least, so Noah let out a breath, one that made Chris snort again, as he passed him the shirt to hold.

“What about Stoker?” Noah blinked, and gestured his hands around wildly. “The Bronte Sisters?”

Chris grinned.

“Never finished Dracula.” He hummed, and to Noah’s surprise, he continued. “Kind of boring, right? But I enjoyed Wuthering Heights.”

At this, Noah smiled, and clapped his hands together.

“Dracula sucked , not my thing at all.” He groaned, trailing after Chris as he moved towards a rack of white shirts. “Frankenstein was good though, and I know you said that you didn’t have time for the Iliad, but a new translation just came out and I think you’d love it- And if not you, then Chef, definitely.”

Chris furrowed his eyebrows, and spun around to face him.

“I think Chef has read the Iliad.” He hummed, and Noah’s eyes widened. “...And the Odyssey, for that matter, I remember he had the two books on his desk for a while.”

“Which editions? Whose translations?”

The host rolled his eyes, and shrugged, much to Noah’s displeasure.

“I don’t know who’s translations they were, but they were the clothbound ones.” He hummed, and Noah clapped his hands together.

“Those are expensive.” He mused, and accepted the white shirt that Chris held out towards him. “They’re also not the best. He should’ve read the Fagels translation. Jeez, the only person i know who has the clothbound editions of Homer is Gwen, and she-”

He trailed off, his words getting lost in his throat. At the mention of Gwen’s name, he watched Chris stiffen, his hands stopping mid air, and his amused expression morphing into a frown. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, but then Chris let out a concerned hum, and Noah raised an eyebrow.

“How is Gwen? You found her, right?” He spoke, rather noncommittally, but all the same, a twinge of concern in his voice. 

What? How did he know about that? Noah squinted his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair in confusion. He didn’t think that the Total Drama Gossip Chain extended to Chris, of all people, so he couldn’t help but stare at him, tilting his head.

“...How do you know about that?” He spoke, not managing to hide the uncertainty in his voice when Chris placed his hands gently on his hips.

“Owen texted Blaineley about it, Blaineley called me.” He shrugged, turning back around to face the clothing racks. “I was told that you found her, but Jesus, we were worried for a while.”

Noah crossed his arms, still confused.’

“You were worried?” He hummed, and Chris turned around, shooting him an incredulous look before spinning back around.

“Everyone thought she was a missing person , obviously I was a little worried. Plus she’s what, one of your best friends? You’d be distraught if anything happened to her.” He hummed back, and Noah tilted his head to the side.

Chris was worried because she was missing, which was expected, considering everybody should be at least a little worried about someone when they go missing… But he was also worried about her because anything happening to her would make Noah upset as well. Was it because if he was upset, he wasn’t as efficient? Or was it because he was genuinely worried for his well being?

Noah had no idea.

“...Yeah. She’s alright, she’s actually at my apartment right now. She lost her phone, and y’know, I didn’t want her to be alone in her own apartment.” He hummed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He could feel the scars from his encounters with the eels against the pads of his fingers, and when Chris turned around again, looking him up and down, as if to psychoanalyse him, he felt them start to itch.

Talking about his good deeds made him anxious, something about the morality of it all made his skin start to crawl.

But all Chris did was tilt his head, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“...You’re a good kid, Noah.” He mused, and turned back around to face the shirts. “Much better than I was at your age. I’m glad Gwen’s alright. If I can help with anything, just let me know.”

…Huh.

Noah didn’t quite know what to say, so he simply nodded. He ignored the way the tension in his shoulders lessened, and the way his stomach armed with something akin to pride, something almost familial. For a few moments, the two were silent, until Chris spun around again. He looked like he was about to say something, maybe voice what they were going to do next, what other errands they needed to run, but he faltered, closing his mouth and pressing his lips into a line, while raising his eyebrows. 

Noah was about to ask what was wrong, as it wasn’t often that Chris McLean was rendered speechless, but before he could – and to Noah’s absolute delight – a voice behind him spoke.

“Well, hello there, I did not expect to run into you today.” A voice sounded, musical and light against the warm air of the kmart around them. Noah whipped his head around, his face morphing into a grin at the sight of-

“...Alejandro.” Chris hummed, gently placing his hands on his hips and smiling brightly at the boy before him.

Alejandro was standing there, smiling across at them without a care in the word. His hair looked freshly washed, the tips of it still damp with water. His eyes glittered under the fluorescent lights, and in his hands was a packet of gummy bears, and a copy of Emily Dickinson Selected Poems. He looked like the picture of normalcy, the beautiful subject of some kind of renaissance painting. It made Noah want to melt.

“Chris! It truly has been a while, and Noah, it… hasn’t been quite as long.” He hummed, and Noah could feel the warineness radiating off his boss even with his back turned. Quite frankly, however, Noah didn’t care, instead staring across at Alejandro with a warm smile.

“Hi.” He hummed, and Alejandro turned his attention to him fully.

“ Hello .” He murmured back, and Noah watched Alejandro’s smile widen ever so slightly. For a few seconds he eyed the items in Alejandro’s hands with interest, before he gestured between them with one hand, and placed the other hand on his hip.

“I’m not surprised about the poetry, but I didn’t peg you as a gummy bear kind of guy.” He drawled, and Alejandro fondly rolled his eyes. He watched them glint under the light, pools of- pools of grease . A sinking feeling of dread flipped his stomach, and It was all Noah could do not to take an instinctive step back, but he blinked, and internally shook his head.

“You would be correct, however, both the poetry and the gummy bears are for Heather.” He hummed, and Noah raised an eyebrow, the pool of dread in his stomach fading quickly. At the sight of his obvious confusion, Alejandro continued. “After yesterday’s Gwen debacle, she, ah, she’s been rather upset. She specifically requested these.”

Ah. At this, Noah smiled again, and Alejandro, obviously, smiled back.

“She seemed pretty worried on the phone.” He murmured, and tilted his head. “I remember she liked gummy bears a lot during the second season of the show; ate a bunch of them during Aftermath… But is she alright?”

Alejandro let out a thoughtful hum, squinting his eyes in thought and eventually, after a few short moments, nodded his head. Noah felt a twinge of relief in his gut.

“She is alright, I believe.” Alejandro nodded, and rolled his eyes. “Truly, I believe she’s being, ah, slightly melodramatic; As Gwen does not have a phone at this point in time, Heather’s unable to check up on her, and she refuses to believe that she’s alright when they’re not in communication with each other.”

“That is a little bit melodramatic, but if it helps, I can give her my phone after work so she can give Heather a call?” Noah ran a hand through his hair, and felt his cheeks heat up at the warm gratitude that filled Alejandro’s expression. The boy in front of him transferred the book of Emily Dickenson's poetry to underneath his arm, and used his now-free hand to scratch at the back of his neck. 

Watching the action, Noah felt his own neck start to itch, and the sensation began to travel down his collarbones, and spread across his torso. Itch, scratch.

“That would be wonderful, I think it would make her feel much better.” He hummed.

He felt it travel down his shoulders, down his arms.

“I think it would make Gwen feel a lot better too.” He murmured in response.

What do you do when your arm itches?

For a few moments, neither of them said anything, instead simply staring forward at each other. There was an electrifying static dancing between them, a tension that made Noah want to reach out, take the other boy's hand and drag him away somewhere private; somewhere they weren’t being psychoanalysed by his boss’s watchful eyes. It almost made him want to jump out of his skin, and meeting Alejandro’s eyes, he watched as the other boy’s expression shifted. For a few seconds, he looked like he wanted to say something, but after a few more seconds, a brief flash of regret spun across his features.

You cut it off.

“...I do not want to keep you here.” He hummed, glancing between Noah and Chris, frowning almost mournfully. But he shifted his expression to a smile when he began to move away, and nodded across at him. “Do enjoy the rest of your shopping, and text me when you get off work, mi amigo.”

To Noah’s surprise, he felt his heart sink into his boots, and before he could stop himself, he took a step forward, and opened his mouth.

“Wait-” He spoke, furrowing his eyebrows, and held out his hands to stop Alejandro from moving any further. He actually didn’t quite know what he was going to say, and with a brief pause, he watched Alejandro raise a hopeful eyebrow. “You could- I mean, we could go to lunch? I’m sure Heather could wait a little bit longer.”

Noah watched Alejandro hesitate. On one hand, the two of them had just hung out the day before, and he wasn’t sure if Alejandro wanted to hang out again within this general period of time, but on the other hand… On the other hand, Noah couldn’t really think of anything he wanted to do more, and at the sight of Alejandro’s lips twitching into a smile, and his eyes filling with a warm, excited look, he had to guess that the boy in front of him felt relatively similar.

“Would your boss- would Chris be okay with that?” He tilted his head hopefully, and once again, Noah felt his stomach drop, and he turned around.

Ah. He had forgotten about Chris. He had forgotten about his job .

“...Uh.” When he turned around to stare pleadingly at the host, the first thing he saw was the look of absolute scepticism on Chris’s face. He was staring at the two of them, his gaze dancing between Alejandro and himself, narrow, dark and suspicious.

His hands were placed nonchalantly on his hips, and Noah could tell that he was scrutinising Alejandro much more than he was scrutinising him. For a few moments, he thought that Chris was going to shake his head, saying that he couldn’t take his lunch break until they were back at the office.

…But he didn’t think it was because Chris wanted to work him into the ground. No, it wasn’t because he was worried about losing his assistant for the day, or because he was particularly in need of him at all for the rest of the day; Behind the pessimism and the vague air of annoyance he was wearing, Noah watched a glint of worry, of genuine concern for him , flash across his eyes.

Chris was worried about him, presumably because he just asked to go to lunch with the guy who got him shoved out of a plane.

“...We’ll be safe, won’t spend too much money, yeah yeah yeah. I’ll be back at work in two hours.” He hummed, and in a desperate attempt to get the host to say yes, he mouthed the words; “... I’ll be fine .”

So he held his breath, and after what seemed like just a little bit too long, the host let out a sigh, and the air of scepticism faded away, and was replaced by nonchalance.

“...Y’know what, take the rest of the day off.” He hummed, and began to dig through his pockets. Noah gaped.

“...Seriously?” He furrowed his eyebrows, and Chris raised his head, pulling out his wallet and giving him a knowing smirk, before pulling out and handing him one of the numerous credit cards he kept on him at all times.

“Yeah. Here, Chef and I got in trouble for using the company card for personal reasons last month, and this doesn’t seem like the kind of ‘professional’ purpose it’s meant for.” He joked, and Noah couldn’t help the snort that escaped him as he took it gingerly from the host’s hand.

“Thanks, senile, I’ll bring you back something.” He drawled, and this time Chris barked out a laugh, and spun around, beginning to head towards the exit. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Alejandro hold a hand up to his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Whatever.” Noah could practically hear Chris roll his eyes as he threw a lazy hand over his shoulder in farewell. “Stay safe, kids, and behave , don’t wanna look bad in the public eye… Oh, and show Alejandro the suits! Gotta get his stamp of approval.”

At this, it was Noah’s turn to roll his eyes, and when Chris had disappeared from view, out the door and into the vast expanse of the rest of the world, he turned to look at Alejandro again.

To his amused horror, he was looking across at him with curious glee, and he raised an eyebrow.

“...Suit shopping was today, wasn’t it?” He hummed, musical and amused, and Noah took a step back in mock horror. “You have suits to show me?”

Noah groaned, and spun around as fast as he could, speeding off towards the checkout as Alejandro laughed behind him.

“Shut it, eel.” He grumbled, and the laughter only continued.

—

Chris doesn’t often walk.

Truly, he doesn’t usually have the time. He’s got appointments, gigs, shoots; commitments he needs to be on time for, things scheduled tightly, and several weeks in advance at the least.

So no, he doesn’t usually get to walk to the places he needs to be.

…Except for today. He had his day booked out for shopping with Noah, so he didn’t have anything else on his schedule and… well, when the kid looked at him so desperately, all to go have lunch with the person he thought was his mortal enemy, who was he to stand in the way of young love?

He had taken a few stops, one down at the electronics store, one at this Greek place Chef had enjoyed the last time they were at the mall together, but ultimately, after leaving the Target, he didn’t have anything else to do.

…So he began to walk back to the office, bags slung over his shoulders, and without any headphones.

“...Chef’s busy.” He muttered to himself as he sauntered down the footpath before him, through backstreets that led him back to the plaza everything was located in. “It’s exercise.”

The walk wasn’t a long one, but it was long enough for Chris to slip back into his own head, and zone out well and truly before he reached the glass office doors. In comparison to yesterday night's rain, the sky was cloudless, and glowing cerulean. The sun shone down upon him like a beacon of warmth, and he listened tiredly to the birds chirping in the surrounding trees.

Before long he reached the office, and waved a cocky hello to the secretary at the front counter, before he stepped foot into the elevator, and rode up to his office floor.

Jesus, it was still practically purgatory in there. Practically everybody was at work today, so the floor was littered with people standing around and talking, doing anything they could to avoid the horrors of actually working. People at desks that weren’t theirs, people crowding around the kitchenette, people in the break room.

It made Chris kind of miss the outside, the trees, the cool sun beating down onto his shoulders, but alas, he was back at work, so work he must do.

Actually, work could wait, Chef could not.

“Hey, Chef!” He grinned, glancing around the office and finally landing onto the back of Chef’s head, a warm, relieved feeling settling in his stomach when the man turned around, and flashed him a grin. “You’ll never fuckin’ guess, dude, seriously.”

At this, Chef spun his chair around, and leaned up to press a kiss to Chris’s cheek as he walked over, much to Chris’s delight. 

“What happened?” He hummed, and took one of the bags, the now definitely-cold Greek food, and rummaged through it curiously; but when he looked up again, glancing around the office as if something was missing, he frowned. “Where's the kid?”

Chris rolled his eyes, and slumped down into the chair across from him.

“With Alejandro .” He drawled, and Chef’s eyebrows shot up. “ Right?! ”

“ Burromuerto ? Well I'll be damned, didn’t think they’d get that far.” Chef grinned, and tossed Chris the small cardboard box of baklava sitting at the bottom of the bag, which Chris caught with relative ease. Chef’s relaxed expression and seemingly complete lack of concern made Chris frown, and he leaned backwards, clumsily fumbling with the box of desserts.

“Me neither.” Chris spoke, both at Chef and the box in his hands. “Like, we were at one of the department stores after going to the suit place, and y’know everything was normal, and then, Alejandro popped up out of fuckin’ nowhere, and Noah looked at him with this dopey smile…”

He trailed off, and forgetting the box in his hands, began to stare worriedly out the high-rise windows. Through the glass, he could see down to the street below and watch as people filtered in and past the building. There was no sign of Noah, he didn’t expect there to be.

Chef was silent, simply looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“...Jesus, dude, he’s so fucking whipped.” He eventually added with a half-hearted chuckle, and Chef snorted, and rested his head in his hand, which he rested on the arm of his chair. “Like, me the week we first met kind of whipped, actual stars in his eyes kind of whipped.”

“...And you’re not happy about that.” Chef spoke, not a question, but a statement. There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, but it was overshadowed by the matter-of-fact way his eyes were trained on his own, and the concern swimming around in Chris’s gut.

…Because he was a little bit concerned about it. In the past, Noah had very adamantly spoken about how much he hated Alejandro. It wasn’t regular enough for Chris to pay any real attention to it, but there were enough snarky comments, enough borderline slander for him to figure out that yeah, Noah wasn’t fond of this guy in the slightest. 

But the way the kid looked at him in the store suggested otherwise.

“...He used to complain about him all the time, and Jesus, you can’t even say the word London without him stiffening up like a door.” He scowled, but relaxed, only slightly, when Chef nudged his knee with his shoe. “They’ve been talking for what, a week? And he looks like he would jump out of a plane for him, fuckin willingly this time.”

“Do you think something bad’s gonna happen?” Chef responded, and Chris let out a sigh. “C’mon, he’s an adult, he can take care of himself, dude, you know this.”

“Yeah, I know, but- He’s still basically a kid, I don’t want him to get his fuckin’ heart broken by a guy who-”

“-Who pushed him out of a plane?” Chef interrupted.

Chris rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“You know me too well.” He hummed, and Chef grinned at him again.

There was a longer pause this time, with both of them eating the now-cold lunch that Chris brought them from the mall… But Chris couldn’t stop the faint worry in his stomach as he ate. If there were any people Noah’s age with enough self-awareness and knowledge of the world around them to make proper decisions, then it would definitely be Noah, but there were moments when Chris couldn’t help be a little concerned; When he spent over half his paycheck on hardcover books because of black friday sales, when he got a speeding ticket the day he was a minute late for work, the night he fully convinced himself he had the plague. (He did not, in fact, have the plague.)

“It’ll work itself out.” Chef eventually said decisively. “I think meddling with his love life would do more harm than good.”

“You’re right.” He muttered, and turned away from the window. “He looked like my simple presence was embarrassing him when Alejandro showed up, like jeez, what am I, his dad?”

Chef snorted into his souvlaki.

“If you were his dad, that would make meddling even worse.” He grinned, and Chis tilted his head back with a laugh.

–

It wasn’t until he was sitting in the driver's seat of his car, back in the office parking lot, that Noah let himself breath.

He had spent almost six hours with Alejandro, sitting and chatting about nothing at one of the wooden tables in the small park across the street from the mall, as, because of the rain the night before, it was the only dry place they could find to sit down. They had gotten sandwiches from a near-by salad bar (Much to Noah’s confusion; how he agreed to eat a sandwich when there were dozens of other food places around them astounded him .) and they had quickly escaped the hustle and bustle of the shopping centre to the table under the shade.

“You know, I was thinking about asking you to lunch tomorrow.” Alejandro had hummed, and Noah had raised an eyebrow, swallowing a bite of his sandwich quickly.

“ Really ?” He hummed, and Alejandro rested his chin on his hand, and tilted his head with a half smile.

“ Yes, I didn’t think I could stomach another twenty-four hours without you.”  

Jesus Christ.

Noah let out a groan, and leaned forward to rest his head on the steering wheel. His face had gotten so hot he was sure he was as red as a sunset, and he hadn’t managed to get a proper word out for the next few minutes.

“Subtle my ass…” He grumbled, staring down at the floor of the car. His shoes, platform loafers that Gwen had bought him for his birthday last year, were dotted with droplets from the puddles outside. The truth was, spending time with Alejandro made him feel more alive than he had in months, and the fluttery, flying feeling that he felt whenever the other boy looked at him made him feel like he was drowning.

Drowning. The idea is kind of appealing, falling from a great height maybe, being swallowed by the Icarian sea. Noah let out a sigh, and pulled open the door to the car.

Chris had given him the day off, but he had failed to consider that he had left the reusable cup he used for coffee in the morning at the office last week, and with Chris sweeping him away the minute he stepped foot into the building that morning, he hadn’t had time to grab it. Unfortunately, that left him no choice but to go back, and even more unfortunately, have to deal with the torrent of curious questions the office would have for him. (Knowing Chris, practically the entire staffing body would already know about his lunch-totally-not-date with Alejandro; Reality tv habits, difficult to unlearn.)

So he hauled himself out of the car, and over to the stairwell in the carpark. The walls were dirty and covered in enough graffiti for Noah to be a little bit suspicious of his co-workers, and on one wall, in opposition to the stairs, rested the damming silver doors of the building’s elevator.

A choice, one that Noah feared would directly affect the rest of his day if he chose wrong.

…He didn’t need to give it very much thought. After several hours of talking to Alejandro, he already had total drama on the brain, so he began to walk up the stairs.

What? What if there was a fire? You can’t hear the fire alarms from the carpark, so it’s best not to operate the elevator at all.

The walk up to the office isn’t long, even with him pointedly ignoring the curious gazes of some of his co-workers as he walked past the lobby. In fact, it’s a little bit peaceful; his steps kind of echo, as everything is made of stone, and the lights aren’t the painful fluorescent ones in his apartment stairwell, the ones that hurt his eyes when he’s out of breath from walking up five flights.

When he reached his floor, he walked out of the stairwell and sighed. It looked like a completely normal day at work; people at the kitchenette, people at their desks… A large amount of people crowded around a ladder? Jesus Christ.

“...What the hell is going on?” He muttered, shouldering his way to Chris’s desk where the host was sitting, grinning excitedly at the display before them. There was a glint in his eyes, one that made Noah want to roll his eyes. It was the reality TV glint.

“Light bulb blew a fuse, sparked n’ everything, and the interns wanted to fix it right away.” He snickered, but after a few moments, he snapped his head around, and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of Noah standing before him. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I give you the day off?”

Noah snorted, and continued to stare at the collection of people around the ladder. It looked precarious enough to be a safety hazard, and if he squinted, he could see at least three people standing on the rungs.

“I left a cup here last week and I wanted to grab it.” He hummed, and winced as somebody almost fell from the ladder. “Trust me though, I will be going home immediately after I do, because I do not want to have to act as a witness when you get sued for workplace misconduct.”

At this, Chris snorted, and Noah turned to face him.

“Please, they’re doing this of their own free will, I think I even told them to get down, this is what we have maintenance for.”

“So they’re just being idiots for the sake of it.” He drawled, and Chris hummed in agreement. For a few moments, they simply watched the group of interns curiously, but then Chris made a start, leaned down below his desk, and began to rummage through an expensive looking white bag.

“...What are you doing?” Noah raised an eyebrow, and Chris looked up again, holding something out in his hand, something that looked like- You’re kidding me. “Chris-”

“-You said Gwen didn’t have a phone, yeah?” He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “It’s hers, think of it as, like, an apology gift, I guess.”

In his hand was a brand new iphone, one of the new, expensive ones that Noah rolled his eyes at in public.

“You’re kidding me, you bought her a phone? How expensive was this? Chris, you can’t just spend money like this-” He gaped, staring down at it in amazement. What would possess Chris to buy Gwen an entirely new phone? Without knowing practically anything about what was going on and what happened to her old one, nonetheless.

“I’m rich, kid.” Was all he said, and gestured for him to take the box, which he did, gingerly, and held it with more care than one might hold an injured animal. “Now get your cup and leave, don’t want to be here when I get charged with workplace misconduct.”

Noah didn’t quite know what to say, so after a few sputtered attempts at saying anything, he took a step backwards, and stared at him.

“...Thankyou.” He murmured, as loud as his voice would let him speak. “Seriously.”

“Anytime, kid.” Chris mused, still grinning, but a slightly warmer, dad-like look appeared in his eyes. Then he added, humorously; “Any friend of yours is beneficiary to my riches.”

This made Noah snort, and with one last look back at him, he snatched his keep-cup off his desk, and sped out the door, and down the stairs. Behind him, he heard a yelp, and the sound of something crashing to the ground.

…Good timing.

—

“...You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m being so genuinely serious right now, this is yours.”

Gwen gaped, staring down at the phone in her hands, and glancing up at him incredulously.

By the time Noah was home, after picking up sushi for dinner, it was already dark. Quite unluckily, Gwen had already started making pasta, so the two of them were sitting on his couch, a plate of sushi balancing on one knee and a bowl of pasta sitting on the other.

Gwen was looking well, and when he had gotten home, he was pleased to hear the sound of The Cure humming quietly from a bluetooth speaker, and even more pleased to hear footfalls upon the tile, presumably from her dancing around the kitchen. Her hair was brushed, and her eyes were light, and a copy of ‘Garden of the Gods’ was sitting, open, on his coffee table. (One of her favourites, and one that she only read when she was happy, and the sun was out.)

“Is this like an apology for bringing me on Revenge of the Island? Or for the show in general? Does he, like, feel bad or something? How did he know I broke my phone?” She gawked, almost knocking her plate of sushi over in the process of examining the box. “... Did he plant a bomb in here or something ?”

At this Noah let out a laugh, swallowing a piece of pasta. She looked more shocked than he had seen her in ages, and he couldn’t help the amusement that filled his voice when he spoke.

“I don’t know!” He grinned, incredulously, and clattered his fork against his bowl. “I’m just as confused as you! I went back to the office to grab the cup I left there and he just handed it to me! I mentioned offhandedly to Alejandro that you broke your phone, but-”

“ Alejandro ?” She raised her eyebrows, eyes widening in even more confusion. “What does he have to do with this? Dude?”

“Oh shit, yeah, he was at the Kmart we went to, we, uh, got lunch. But Chris-”

Gwen shook her head, dramatically waving her hands out in front of her in shock. Noah shut his mouth, not managing to contain the grin spreading across his face. Talking about Alejandro made his spine jolt, and his stomach flutter a little bit… Gross.

“Wait, that was before Chris handed you a two-thousand dollar phone? You’re telling me Chris has seen Alejandro in your weird-reconciling phase and I haven’t ? Noah, you’re joking.”

Noah let out a sigh, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Why do these dramatic conversations always happen over pasta?” He mused, attempting to divert, but Gwen shook her head.

“No, you can’t avoid this. When do I get to hang out with him? Invite us both to dinner, Noah.” She said, completely seriously, and Noah paused, slightly taken aback.

…Dinner, huh. Dinners were not a private affair, in fact, he never got through an entire week without having some type of dinner with at least one or more of his friends; It was a consequence of living so close to them, one that he found out the week he moved there. So it wasn’t an awful idea… Except for one thing.

“...When was the last time you saw Alejandro?” He spoke, and this time, it was Gwen’s turn to stop. “I mean, you haven’t seen him in our ‘ weird reconciling phase ’ but that only started like a week ago… And when I mentioned you to him yesterday, he acted like he wasn’t unfamiliar with your presence. Oh, and- and he asked if you took commissions for your, uh, paintings.”

Before his eyes, he watched as Gwen stiffened, eyes snapping from the phone in her hands up to him once again. There was something in her gaze that made Noah want to keep talking.

“...I saw him a couple of months ago.” She replied, voice slow, and cautious. “Y’know, visiting Heather.”

He waited for her to continue, but after a few moments, when she didn’t respond, he raised another eyebrow.

“...Really?... He mentioned something about you and Heather.” He started, but quite suddenly, Gwen let out a laugh, and shoved a mouthful of pasta into her mouth. Noah was too taken by surprise to say anything, so she managed to chew quickly on her food and swallow before she quickly began to speak once again.

“Hah, yeah, Used to visit Heather a lot, y’know? She was so separated from everyone and I liked to take the train.” She hummed, and Noah furrowed his eyebrows. “If he- uh, If he wants to commission me that would be cool, y’know, I could give him a discounted rate if you think he deserves it.”

She winked at the end of her sentence, and Noah let out a tiny snort.

“You’re diverting.” He said, simply, and Gwen hesitated a little bit, before nodding stiffly.

“...Is that okay? I think I've dropped enough Gwen lore for the past week.” SHe said, and when Noah rolled his eyes, amused, her face morphed into a grin again. “...Thankyou. Actually, can you tell Chris I say thankyou? Actually, amending my previous actually, tell him I say thank you begrudgingly.”

Noah laughed again, and leaned back on the couch as Gwen smiled. Her teeth were straight, and he vaguely recalled her saying that she never needed braces as a kid.

“I can do that.” He grinned, and after a moment, he added: “...Dinner doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”

“Really?” Gwen raised an eyebrow, obviously having brought it up as a kind-of-joke, but scratching the back of her neck in thought. “Who’d you invite?”

Noah considered this.

“Well, you obviously, Owen, maybe team E-scope? And Heather, I think, if she’d be willing to come with Alejandro. Oh, or we could make it a screaming gophers thing?” He mused, and Gwen giggled at the suggestion of the screaming gophers.

“If you make it a gophers thing, then that means Cody, and that, in turn, means Sierra.” She hummed, and Noah sighed in agreement. “She’s better than before, but yeesh, she asks a lot of questions.”

“That’s very true.” He mused, and put his fist in his palm. Gwens eyes shone in the lighting, and the green of her hair reflected the lamp behind the couch. There was no flinch at the mention of Heather, unlike the night before. “Extended team E-scope it is then.”

Gwen grinned, and clapped her hands together.

“What about a date? Next weekend?” She hummed, and Noah nodded.

“Saturday evening.” He spoke, confidently, and the two of them grinned at each other. There was a silence, the only sounds being the gentle droning of Lullaby by The Cure coming from the kitchen, and a gentle thumping coming from the neighbours.

Dinners are domestic, relaxing, a reprieve from work, or whatever else was going on at the time; This’d just be like any other dinner, except for the presence of Alejandro (The cause of his descent into the sea.) And Heather. (Seemingly the cause of Gwen’s descent into the sea.). The idea of it made his heart jump.

He couldn’t wait .

Chapter Text

Wednesday - 7:32pm.

“Hey Izzy, are you busy this weekend?”

“Hm, that depends, why’re you asking?” She mused, and Noah could hear the smirk on her face through the phone.

“I wanna have dinner; extended Team E-scope, Gwen, Alejandro and Heather.” He responded, and through the phone, there was a hum of interest. Dinners with Team Escope usually included Gwen, and literally always included Owen, but they had never once included even a mention of Alejandro. (Probably because he shot everybody down whenever they brought him up.)

“What a fun combination of people!” She giggled, and Noah smiled. That was practically a yes already. “What day and time?”

“Around five thirty? I want you guys to be here before Alejandro and Heather.” He hummed, and he heard Izzy clap her hands. “And could you tell Eva? You’re hanging out with her tonight, right?”

There was an affirmative, enthusiastic hum from the other end of the line, and Noah grinned.

“Thanks, Izzy."

“Oh, no problem, I would never miss out on the opportunity to meet your new boyfriend for the first time!"

Noah raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve met Alejandro before, Izzy, you were on the same team for like, uh, three months?” He hummed into the phone, and for a few seconds, it was quiet. The few seconds seemed to stretch so long that Noah began to get a little worried, but eventually, Izzy let out an excited ‘ Oh! ’.

“ Oh yeah! But the last time I talked to him was before I got that kind of fucked up concussion !” She giggled, and Noah sighed. “ This is like a whole new thing ! Eva and I will be there, just tell Gwen to bring that cake she made a few months ago, that was tasty !”

He smiled. Izzy’s sweet tooth almost rivalled Owens, and she was very partial to Gwen’s baking specifically. (He wasn’t sure why, but the two had really bonded over it after World tour was over. He couldn’t say he wasn’t happy about two of his best friends getting along so well in spite of their obvious differences, but something about it made him uneasy, in a comical way.)

“Sure, I’ll make sure she does.” He murmured, and with an energetic ‘goodbye’ from the girl at the other end of the line, he pressed the ‘end call’ button and dropped back onto his couch.

The sun was out, and while Gwen had left that morning with a promise to text him throughout the day, he felt calm, while his apartment was bathed in the light of the sunset. 

—

Wednesday - 7:57pm.

Gwendy - 7:57pm.

Hey, howd u feel abt cody!!

Coming to dinner i mean

Me - 7:58pm.

Cody yeah

What about sierra?

Gwendy - 7:58pm .

She’s busy apparentlyyy

Cody wants to see a movie

I refuse to give up dinner for a bad dc movie though lmao

Noah grinned, and with a snort, typed back a message. The more the merrier, ultimately, and while he wasn’t sure how the two ‘honoured guests would feel about Sierra, he knew that neither of them disliked Cody.

Me - 7:59pm.

Invite him, he’ll be fun

There was a few minutes of no response, before eventually, his phone pinged again, and he chuckled.

Gwendy - 8:03

He says he loves you (full homo)

And he’ll be there

Me - 8:03

excellent

—

Thursday - 1:42pm.

He asks Owen about it over lunch the next day.

“Oh, dinner? I’m always open to dinner!” He chuckled, popping a bite of his omelette into his house as Noah stirred a packet of sugar into his tea. “What do you want me to cook?”

Noah shrugged, and smiled across at him excitedly. The more he thought about it, and the more he talked about it, the more excited about this dinner he was getting. The two were sitting inside a diner a few minutes walk away from Owen’s house, meeting for their weekly-lunch to report on any recent events.

They had spoken about Gwen, and about the whirlwind of misinformation being spread around the rest of the gossip chain since the event; Apparently, somebody had told Justin that Gwen had been kidnapped, and that had somehow spiralled into at least half of the cast thinking she was in the hospital, arrested, or dead . Cody had apparently gotten so worried that he cried and as an apology, Gwen had taken him out for dinner the night before to show him firsthand that she was okay.

They had talked about how Owen was doing in culinary school, and how he had been suit shopping on Tuesday with Chris. Ultimately, it was a ritualistic catch up, one that they engage in at least once every week, if not more; And they had finally reached the topic that Noah wanted to bring up: Dinner on Saturday.

“Well, what do you think is appropriate for a ‘reuniting’ of old friends?” He hummed, and Owen, confused, blinked at him.

“...Uh, Goulash?” He said, hesitantly, and then fondly laughed. “Dude, I have no idea what you mean.” 

“I mean, I’m inviting Alejandro and Heather, too. Y’know, like along with the rest of our friends. You haven’t seen any of them for a while, have you?” Noah grinned, and he watched as Owen’s eyes widened almost comically. 

“Holy shit, Al ?” He began, before shaking his head, and staring at him, the excitement growing on his face with every passing second. “Alejandro and Heather? You’re kidding me, oh my god. Okay, Well, Alejandro’s pretty squeamish, so he wouldn’t like a solid chunk of the things I can make-”

As Owen began to rattle off different meal ideas, Noah found himself smiling into his mug of coffee. It seemed that the person he would have the most trouble convincing to come over would be Alejandro and Heather themselves.

“-We could do lamb? But Gwen’s a vegetarian, and i don’t think Heather would like it very much Oh! What about pasta?”

Owen’s voice was so excited that Noah couldn't help but laugh a little bit. He hoped that Owen could see the fondness in his eyes, and it seemed as if he did, because Owen began to giggle along with him.

“It’s always pasta.” He smiled, and Owen shrugged happily. “We always go back to pasta, don’t we? Well, how about ravioli or something? Tortellini?”

“That’s a great idea!” Owen grinned, and Noah took another sip of his tea, pleased with himself. “Will Alejandro eat that? He didn’t touch half the food on the plane, and I don't know if that was like a germ thing or like a picky weather thing, so, er, will he?”

“I think he likes pasta, I can check, though?” He tilted his head, and Owen nodded excitedly.

So he pulled out his phone, clicking on his messages, and sent a quick text to Alejandro, to which he instantly received a reply.

Me - 1:47pm

Do you like ravioli? And do you knwo if heather likes ravioli?

Alejandro - 1:47m

Yes, I do, and it’s one of her favourite dishes. Why, may I ask?

Noah grinned, and turned to look back up at Owen after sending one last text.

Me - 1:47pm

I’ll tell you later, it’s a secret

“He does like ravioli.” He nodded, and Owen’s face lit up even more than it had before. “Heather likes it too, so I think we’re all set.”

“Hell yeah, little buddy! This is going to be the best dinner ever.” Owen grinned, and Noah grinned back.

—

Thursday - 5:32pm

Me - 5:32pm

Hey abt the ravioli

Are you and heather free on saturday?

The air in Noah’s apartment smelt like herbal tea and reheated curry; the windows were blown open, letting the evening breeze drift into the living room, and Noah was sitting at his kitchen counter, staring down at the phone in his hands.

After lunch with Owen, and a full day of dealing with office altercations in the HR department (The lightbulb incident, and a particularly violent argument he bore witness to the day before between two of his coworkers.) He felt like he deserved a little bit of a break; however, now that the rest of his friends had agreed to dinner, he was left with the task of asking Heather and Alejandro to join them; a task that would most definitely be harder than it seemed.

Sure, Heather liked Gwen (More than she showed, he was beginning to think.) And Alejandro seemed willing to do anything just to hang out with him… But Heather got so easily annoyed with Izzy, and while he didn’t think either of them had much of a problem with Eva, he knew Alejandro used to despise Owen more than anything in the world, and Heather didn’t particularly like him, ever since the Total Drama Island finale.

“...Maybe they’ve gotten over it.” He hummed, and blinked as he received a reply.

Alejandro - 5:33pm

For you, i’ll always be

Heather is too, I just asked her.

Why? Are you inviting us for dinner? x

Me - 5:33pm

Wtf ew

what are you implying

But yeah, actually, i am, my place at 6

Are you down?

Alejandro - 5:34pm

Of course we are

However I must warn you that I don't think you’re quite Heather’s type, if that is what you are suggesting ;)

I’m joking

Who else is coming?

Me - 5:34

Uh

Gwen and cody

And izzy owen and eva

:))

There were several minutes of no response, before a single message popped up on the screen, and Noah couldn’t help but grimace as he read it.

Alejandro - 5:42pm

Can I call you?

That was not a good sign. A call meant refusal, a way for Alejandro to bail with his smooth voice and irresistible charm, a way for him to refuse in a way that will lull Noah into a sense of security before he struck at him with his snake-like fangs-

Noah blinked.

That's not what he was going to do. He was going to ask for some kind of explanation,and if he didn’t want to come, then that was okay, he didn’t need to. He wasn’t forced to do anything. So Noah sighed, and instead of typing out another message, pressed the call button next to Alejandro’s contact. He expected this, but he was still a little bit surprised that Alejandro picked up before the end of the first ring.

“Hey, Alejandro.” He hummed, and at the sound of the others sigh at the end of the line, he let out a snort. No, Alejandro wasn’t going to be mean about it, much to Noah’s relief. “How does dinner sound?”

“ My dear Noah… ” Alejandro replied, and Noah made a fake gagging noise. The other boy sounded comically pained, and he could imagine him draped over his couch, dramatically staring up at the ceiling like a rich woman in the regency era. “ Do you truly want me to come to dinner? Do you truly want Heather to come to dinner ?”

Noah rolled his eyes, and chuckled. He could hear the edge of a smile in Alejandro’s words, and he let out a hum of confirmation.

“You haven’t seen any of them – except Gwen, I guess – since the show ended, they’re better now, I swear.”

“ Better ?” Alejandro sounded hesitant. “ What do you mean by that ?”

“Well Owen was only ever playing up his schtick for laughs, so he’s so much more chill than you remember him being, I swear” He hummed, and he heard the other boy’s disbelieving groan on the other end of the call. “No, seriously, and Izzy knows how to behave herself! Eva will be there, and that usually calms her down.”

There were a few seconds of silence before Alejandro let out a tired sigh.

“.. .Why do you want me to come, mi amigo? Is there a reason you want us to have dinner with you? ”

Noah didn’t quite know what to say. On one hand, he could make a joke about it, laugh over a shitty innuendo and not answer Alejandro’s question in the slightest. He could tell him that it was because his friends wanted to meet him again, which was technically the truth, and the initial reason he wanted to organise the dinner in the first place… But there was something in Alejandro’s voice, a sincerity, that made him open his mouth before he could properly figure out what to say.

“Remember when I told you that dinner with my friends is like, a regular thing?” He spoke, and when he heard a hum of confirmation from the other, he grimaced down at his place. He was about to admit something, what it was, he didn’t know, but he could feel the admission building up in his gut. “That’s because my friends mean a lot to me, and seeing them regularly makes me feel, i don’t know, happy, joyful, content with the world around me, or whatever.”

He paused for a moment. He could hear Alejandro’s breathing through the receiver, waiting for him to continue. Eventually, he spoke again.

“...You mean, er, something to me, too. And this doesn’t have to be a regular thing because i’m pretty sure you're never going to want to see Owen or Izzy ever again after this, but since you do mean something to me, I, uh, I want you to come to dinner, at least once, maybe- maybe more.”

Jesus Christ .

That was painful to say, and he could guess, extremely painful to listen to… But something in his chest loosened slightly; He hadn’t phrased it well, and he had left out the part about him being hopelessly- no, no, he hadn’t left out any parts about him being hopelessly anything. But it was an admission from the heart, a confession of… something. Of friendship, he supposed.

Alejandro didn’t respond instantly, and waiting, even if it was only for a few seconds, Noah felt a little bit like the floor was going to swallow him up. But after a few seconds, Alejandro cleared his throat, and a musical, warm voice flowed through the speaker.

“... Are you saying that I make you feel content with the world around you, my dear Noah ?” He spoke, and the teasing tone in his voice made Noah scoff.

Of course he was going to be an asshole about it.

“Jesus Christ, Alejandro.” He groaned, but he grinned nonetheless, and Alejandro laughed, loudly and happily, on the other end of the line. “I was trying to be vulnerable, and I answered your stupid fuckn’ question.”

“I cannot believe I truly mean something to you .” He hummed, still mockingly, but also with an airy, dreamy quality that made his stomach flip. “ Am I your friend? Really ?”

“Yes, god , fine, you are my friend, I consider you to be my friend.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, half laughing, half groaning. “Now are you coming to dinner or not?”

Alejandro laughed again, and in the background, Noah could hear Heather’s faint voice, saying something along the lines of ‘ What the fuck are you laughing at? Who are you talking to ?’. After a few seconds of quiet, presumably Alejandro answering her, he spoke into the receiver once again.

“ Of course we are, I’d do anything with you, Noah .”

Christ.

Before he could reply, Alejandro let out a yelp, and Heather's voice began to clearly echo through the speaker.

“ That- ” She started, hissing something down at Alejandro, who he could now hear complaining loudly in the background. Noah grinned. “- Was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard in my life. What do you need us to bring on Saturday ?”

Noah rolled his eyes.

“Hello Heather, yes, I'm good, my day has been great, how was yours?’ He drawled, and Heather scoffed. “Wine, maybe? Not champagne, it makes Izzy unbearable.”

“ Alright .” Heather said, and paused for a second. “ Did Chris buy Gwen a new phone ?”

He raised an eyebrow, and let out a hum of confirmation.

“Yeah, he did. Don’t ask why, I don’t know. She’s called you right?”

Heather hummed a yes, and before he could say anything else, the sound of a phone being passed along floated through the receiver, and Alejandro’s voice bounced back into his ears.

“ My apologies, she can be rude .” He hissed, very pointedly, probably towards Heather.

“No hello, no goodbye?” He mused, and Alejandro snorted. “Jesus, tell her I say bye, I guess?”

Alejandro laughed, and he could imagine Heather flipping him off in the background.

“ I will .” He hummed, and Noah took a bite of his food. There were a few minutes of silence, before Alejandro let out a sigh, and he spoke, quite disappointedly, into the phone. “ Listen, I must go, Heather’s made dinner and she refuses to let it get cold… ”

“Oh.” Noah frowned. Truthfully, he didn’t want Alejandro to leave at all, but that seemed to be a little bit too personal for him to admit. “Okay, enjoy dinner.”

Alejandro let out a disappointed sigh, and hummed.

“ I will… Shall I call you tomorrow, dear Noah ?”

This makes him pause. They’ve never called each other before. Sure, they’ve been texting each other practically non-stop for the last two weeks, and they’ve actually hung out before, but there’s something so much more intimate about a phone call than Noah thinks he can handle. The quiet hello, the faith you have in someone that they’re listening to you rant about your day, the quiet goodbye. The problem is that Alejandro said it without a care in the world, and god , it makes Noah want to throw up. (In a good way or a bad way, he doesn’t know.)

…But it also makes his cheeks heat up, and a warm, fuzzy feeling fills him up from his toes to his hair.

“...Yeah, okay, sure.” He hummed, And he could practically hear Alejandro light up from the other end of the line. “You know when I get off work. Bye, Alejandro.”

There was a light chuckle from the other end of the line, and Alejandro’s voice flowed through the speaker once again; not slippery, like grease, but sticky sweet like honey.

“ Goodbye, Noah .” He hummed, and with a click, the call was over. Noah was left staring at the black screen in front of him.

Noah took a sip of his tea, and sighed. The apartment was quiet, and he could feel a small, empty void where Alejandro’s voice had been. The tea was cranberry and pomegranate, from a box that Katie and Sadie gave him as a house warming present. (About six months late, however; By the time they first came to visit his walls were already filled with art, and the apartment was obviously lived in, obviously loved.) It wasn’t awful, but it was the type of tea Gwen liked to drink, and as the sweetness of it touched his taste buds, he could definitely see why.

…But a smile graced his lips as he took a bite of his reheated curry, and when he swallowed, he let out a low, quiet chuckle.

“‘ Of course ’” He mimicked, quietly, warmly . “ ‘I’d do anything with you, Noah .’”

There is light on his wings, and the setting sun outside the window is going to melt him, assuming that Alejandro doesn’t get there first.

—

Saturday - 5:32pm.

Noah is going to throw up.

Truly, there’s nothing he wants more right now than a stomach flu, or food poisoning, or a bout of sickness that will render him incapacitated and therefore unable to host tonight's dinner.

He wants out, and he wants out now , before his friends can get there and talk him out of it.

“Window-” He muttered, glancing frantically across to the other wall as he paced around the living room. “I could-”

I’m not going to jump out of the fucking window. He thought, and he closed his eyes, hard, shaking his head. Noah, do not jump out of the window, you’ll hit the concrete and your intestines will get all over the walkway and your bones will crack and- And it was safe to say that Noah wasn’t having a very good time right now.

During the few days prior, he had been so preoccupied with inviting everybody over, thinking about the food, thinking about the wine, cleaning up the apartment, that he hadn’t had time to worry about the actual event. He had spent too much time worrying about the non-matching cutlery that he hadn’t even touched on the fact that Alejandro was going to be coming to his house , to his actual place of living , for… what? A casual Saturday dinner?

“Casual my ass.” He scowled, clenching his jaw and bending his fingers backwards as if to try and crack his joints. (But unfortunately, he had cracked his knuckles three times in the past five minutes, and all he succeeded in doing this time was making his fingers ache.) “This is a really shitty idea, jesus christ, i’m going to die , they’re- he’s going to look at all the bookshelves and think i’m a fucking-”

He was wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a dark blue shirt over a black long sleeve. It was an outfit combination he had worn hundreds of times, hell, he was pretty sure he had been wearing it on Tuesday when he had last seen Alejandro, but it was suddenly starting to feel a little bit informal for the occasion. Maybe Gwen would be just as nervous as he was? She seemed to jump whenever she heard Heather’s name, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t seen her since she was presumed a ‘missing person’ almost a week ago… That was sure to get her blood pumping, right? Sure to freak her out almost as much as he was freaked out?

No, hold on, that’s not what he wanted at all.

Gwen didn’t need to be freaked out, if anything, he wanted her to be entirely un-freaked out; calm in the face of danger.

“No, man, it’s going to be fine.” He dropped down onto the couch, only to immediately stand up again, and run a hand through his hair. “Or, maybe it won’t be fine; maybe I’m not paranoid, maybe I’m just a prophet- I’ve been right about this kind of shit before so why shouldn’t-”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence, because before he could, there was a knock at his door, and his head involuntarily whipped around so fast that he could have given himself whiplash.

Everything was okay, everything was fine , he could do this!

So he slid across the floors to the door, and swung it open to reveal a very excited looking Izzy, and behind her, a very calm looking Eva. Almost instantly upon setting her eyes on him, Eva raised an eyebrow, and Izzy nervously giggled.

“Jesus.” Eva spoke, her voice gruff and questioning. “What ringer did you get put through?”

“Yeah, you look a little bit- uh, a little bit like you’re about to lose it.” Izzy grinned, and toed off her shoes before practically pushing him further inside.

Noah let out a groan, and sent a pleading look back towards Eva, who only smirked at him, and began to pull off her own shoes.

The two of them, much like Gwen and Owen, had an uncanny ability to know when something was wrong with him, no matter the circumstance. It was like they knew him so well that they could see it deep in his soul; a never ending tragedy that seemed to flare up every now and then, something that could only ever be fixed by one of Owens hugs, an ‘Izzy Bite’ or spending some quiet time with Gwen and Eva.

In this instance, it seemed like his fate was an ‘Izzy Bite’, and he narrowly avoided her teeth by sidestepping, and jumping backwards onto the couch.

“I just ironed this shirt, get away from me you psycho- '' He grinned, and let out a shrill yelp as she lunged for him again, this time managing to tackle him backwards and further into the couch cushions.

“Noah, c’mon, tell Kaleidoscope what’s wrong!” She grinned, and Noah let out a reluctant sigh. Kaleidoscope meant she was at least a little bit serious, and considering that Eva didn’t look at all like she was willing to stop her (As evidenced by her simply sitting down next to them on the couch, cross legged and intrigued.) led him to believe that he wasn’t getting out of this very easily… So he groaned, and ran an anxious hand through his hair as the two stared at him intently.

“...I want Alejandro to- and Heather to have a good time, and, well neither of them seem much like casual dinner people, and- I don’t know if they, uh, I don’t know if they will… Have a good time, that is.” He spoke, glancing between Izzy, Eva, and the couch fabric that was rubbing into his ankles.

For a few moments, neither of them responded, but then Izzy tilted her head.

“...If you don’t think they’d have a good time, then why’d you invite them in the first place?” She chuckled, and blinked with a grin. Next to her, Eva raised an eyebrow, obviously having the same question. “Dinner’s supposed to be fun, that’s what they're for, silly.”

“She’s right.” Eva mused, and Noah frowned.

“Because- Because I want them to have a good time? And I want Alejandro to- i guess Alejandro’s my friend, so I kind of want him to- uh, do the things that I do with my friends.”

At this, the corner of Eva’s lips twitched up, and a flicker of realisation passed Izzy’s grinning face. Almost instantly, she leaped to her feet, hurling herself off the couch and landing on the carpet; when she landed, she pointed an accusing finger at him, still very much grinning. Across from him, Eva snorted, and sent Noah a knowing look.

“You’re worried about this-” Eva began, and Izzy giggled.

“-Because you liiiiiiike him!” Izzy finished, and Eva hummed, agreeing.

Noah didn’t answer, but he did let out a long, long sigh, and stood from his seat, moving towards the kitchen. Izzy began to follow him, stepping on the tips of her toes as she did so. Eva stayed on the couch, and simply watched after him. (Noah didn’t miss the glint in her eyes, though… traitor.)

“I don’t like him.” He muttered, rather loudly, as he swung the cupboards open and began to pull out the ingredients for their dishes that Owen was not intending on bringing with him. “I mean- I don’t like him, not in the way you’re implying, you heathen.”

Izzy only laughed, took a pinch of salt from the salt box, and sprinkled it on the tip of her tongue.

“Sure you don’t.” Eva hummed from the couch, watching them intently. “You just invited him and his best friend to dinner because he’s your friend now? Speaking of which, why the hell did you invite Heather?”

“That’s exactly what I did, Eva, you’ve got it right on the money.” He drawled, sending a glare her way. “And I invited Heather because I thought he would- er, I thought he would have a better time if he had someone more familiar around, y’know? Like someone he knows-”

“-Like how when people drop their dogs off at the kennel when they go on holiday, and they give them a blanket to take with them.” Izzy interjected, grinning, but Noah simply rolled his eyes.

“-And also, Gwen wanted her to come.”

At this, Izzy and Eva turned to look at eachother, eyebrows raised and confusion in their pupils.

“...Gwen’s been talking to the princess of hell?” Eva eventually said, a vaguely humorous tone in her voice, but still seriously serious nonetheless. Noah snorted, and raised his eyebrows at her as he moved a box of flour aside in the cupboard.

“...It seems so.” He hummed, and at that moment, there was another knock at the door. This time, before he could mov to open it, Eva stood up, and looked through the peephole. Upon deciding that it was safe, she opened the door, and they were met with the smiling faces of Cody and Owen.

Both of them looked the same as they did last week, but Cody was wearing a slightly smarter set of clothes; a button up and jeans, instead of an old polo and jeans, and Owen looked like he was extremely prepared to cook, with a bag of ingredients in his arms. Almost instantly, upon seeing the two, Izzy spun around and yelled a hello, launching herself towards them and wrapping her arms around Owen cheerfully.

“Big O! I haven’t seen you in ages, and Cody! Have you gotten taller?” She mused, and Owen giggled, placing the groceries on the ground to wrap his arms around her in return. Cody, on the other hand, simply crossed his arms with a sarcastic eye roll. 

“I haven’t gotten taller…” he groaned, and Izzy jumped away from Owen to land in front of Cody, grinning down at him.

“That’s okay, we love you just the way we are.”

At this, Cody smiled, and upon seeing Eva sitting on the couch, moved to join her. Noah watched as Eva punched him lightly in the arm, and Cody, with seemingly much more force, to Eva’s great pleasure, punched her back. He had noticed them doing that recently; Eva gently punching him, Cody punching her much more aggressively. (He doubted that Eva felt anything at all when Cody returned the gesture, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one that suggested the idea in the first place.)

Owen, upon seeing him in the kitchen, picked up the bag of groceries and cheerfully made his way over.

“Noah, little buddy!” He grinned, glancing back to where Izzy was sitting herself down between Eva and Cody on the couch. But upon looking at Noah a little bit more closely, he frowned, and tilted his head to the side. “You look stressed out, are you alright?”

Noah let out a sigh.

“Izzy and Eva said the same thing.” He grumbled, and leaned backwards against the counter, crossing his arms. “I don’t look that bad, do I?”

Owen let out a hum, and shook his head with a smile, dropping the bag onto the counter. Inside it, he could see a selection of different types of ravioli, some sauces, an exuberant amount of cheese, and a bottle of wine. It was pretty much the same array of foods that Owen usually brought, however it was notably missing the usual packets of chips that it might have.

“You look great, little dude.” He grinned, glancing between Noah and the bag. “But I can see it in your eyes, y’know? What’s freaking you out?”

Noah didn’t quite know what to say.

What did he mean, ‘ see it in your eyes ?’ Did he look like he was going to lose his mind any second? Because he certainly felt like it, Jesus Christ. But he could imagine the way he looked right now; unironed shirt, dark circles under his eyes, messy hair… Dramatic, and very obviously freaked out.

“...I’m just nervous.” He spoke, looking at Owen with the most sincerity he could muster. “Alejandro’s never visited, and I want him to have fun with dinner and everything, y’know?... I’m also a little bit scared that everyone's going to clash dramatically with Heather.”

The last bit was added as a joke, but as the words danced out of his mouth, he started to realise that that was also something he was nervous about. What if Heather and Eva got into some kind of argument? What if Gwen went completely catatonic the moment she saw her? Where the hell was Gwen? She was usually so early to these things, but she was nowhere to be found.

What if she bailed? Would she do that? He thought, and he could feel himself pale. In front of him, Owen furrowed his eyebrows. She wouldn’t bail without telling me, I know that, but if she did- It’s going to be so awkward, jesus christ, i’m going to have to drive a knife through-

“Here, Noah, smell this. Is this the kind of thing you were thinking?” Owen spoke, and instantly, his voice partnered with the smell of fresh pesto in his nose, snapped his eyes up, and his thoughts out of his own head. He didn’t respond, but when he blinked knowingly across at the other boy, who was currently holding a jar of homemade pesto in front of his face, Owen’s shoulders slumped a little bit.

“...Sorry.” He muttered, gently taking the jar from Owen’s hands and sniffing it more. Owen simply hummed, and shook his head.

“It’s okay, little dude. If you’re so worried, I can give Izzy a melatonin to calm her down! That’d probably make this a lot easier, y’know?” He laughed, and his chuckles made the corner of Noah’s lips twitch up.

“If she gets too rowdy we can just kick her out.” Noah hummed, and Owen let out a snort. “This is perfect, I think Gwen will really like it.”

At this, Owen’s eyes lit up.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking! But speaking of, where is Gwen?”

Noah frowned, and clutched the jar in his hands a little bit tighter.

“...I don’t know, maybe I should-” He started, but before he could, and to his absolute relief , there was another knock at the door, and collectively, everybody’s heads snapped up.

…Oh, that’s right. Nobody other than him and Cody, and maybe Sierra , had seen her since she was lovingly dubbed a ‘missing person’ by the Total Drama Gossip Chain. He hadn’t thought about that one very much.

In a flash, Izzy was on her feet, and was bouncing towards the door. Truthfully, both him and Eva thought that this was one of her worst traits, but she didn’t even check the peephole before she swung open the door. For one horrifying moment, he thought that she would open the door to reveal Alejandro and Heather standing there, no Gwen in sight; but to his absolute relief, standing in the doorway, with her nervous smile and dark eyeliner…

…Was Gwen.

Izzy didn’t wait a second before she launched herself at her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and spinning around with a giggle.

“Gwen!” She grinned, and when Gwen dropped the bag she was carrying on the floor – presumably filled with the baked goods she promised Izzy – she tightened her hug even more.

“Hey, Izzy.” Gwen murmured, grinning back at her as Izzy pulled away to look at her face. “I love your makeup, new style?”

Izzy simply tilted her head to smile.

“I love you, I’m so glad you weren’t kidnapped.”

Gwen opened her mouth to respond, but all she seemed to manage was a light squeak, and a quiet ‘... Me too ’, before she turned around to face the rest of them. Everybody was looking at her expectantly, and as Izzy peeled herself away, bouncing back to the couch and sitting on the arm, she clasped her hands together and took a deep breath. After a moment, she spoke;

“I’m sorry for making you think I got kidnapped.” She cringed, gaze flicking between them as she spoke. “I just broke my phone, and I really didn’t mean for any of that to happen, i’m- i’m really sorry you were so worried.”

She sounded so sincere that Noah couldn’t help but open his mouth in shock. He was the only person that wasn’t worried she was kidnapped, and while he had seen the reactions from their friends, the thought of a formal apology hadn’t ever crossed his mind.

It seemed as if it hadn’t crossed anyone else’s minds either, because Eva snorted, and leaned forward to look at her menacingly.

“You don’t need to apologise, it’s whoever started the rumour that you got kidnapped who needs to apologise.” She spoke, an authoritative air in her voice that made it very clear there was no room for debate. She simply sent Gwen a flashing smile, and suddenly, the rest of the room divulged into conversation once again.

“Y’know.” Cody started, tilting his head in thought. “I heard about it from Harold, which is weird, because what the hell does Harold know?”

Izzy giggled.

“I got it from Owen.” She smiled, and Owen held up his hands in defence as she turned to look at him, giggling

“Hey! I heard it from Geoff! And you two hang out a lot, so I thought it could be real!” 

At this, everybody started to laugh, and Gwen, realising that her apology was both not needed and readily accepted, began to laugh. The sound made the knot in his stomach ease, and he tilted his head at her as she looked at him, a signal for her to come over.

After a moment of her toeing off her shoes and picking up her bag again, she walked over, and placed her hands on her hips. There was a smile on her face that twitched when she looked at him properly, but all together, she looked a lot more put together than he felt.

“...Hey-” She started, but Noah raised his hands and waved them in front of her face before she could finish.

“I know, I know, I look frustrated and terrible.” He groaned, and something in Gwen’s gaze softened a little bit when he spoke. “I don’t- can you, uh, fix it for me?”

Gwen didn’t even hesitate, instead letting himself be hauled to his feet by her pale hands, and lightly pushed in the direction of the bathroom. The girl turned to look at Owen, who smiled joyfully at her and mouthed a soft ‘hello’ from across the counter.

“Will you be alright without Noah’s help?” She murmured, and Owen nodded vigorously, quirking an eyebrow. He was suddenly struck with the fact that Gwen and Owen Knew each other very well; this was something he already knew, but the reminder every now and again still sent a jolt of realisation up his spine.

Owen winked across at him.

“‘Course, this is my thing! Now shoo, go get ready for your hot date…’s?” He spoke. The ‘s’ was plastered onto the end of the sentence with hesitation, but when Gwen’s grip on his wrist tightened, and her left eye twitched, he corrected himself teasingly and humorously. “Hot date, Noah's hot date.”

Gwen grinned, and began to pull him towards the bathroom.

It wasn’t until he was sitting on the closed toilet lid, Gwen’s hands and his hairbrush running through his hair, nose dripping with water, that he spoke again.

“...Izzy and Eva think I like him.” He muttered, and Gwen faltered for a moment, her hands stopping their movements and her breathing paused. After a moment, she continued in silence, but after a short while, she spoke up, voice almost as tired and quiet as his own.

“Do you like him?” She began, and Noah let out a sigh.

He frowned… It wasn’t as if he didn’t like him; He wasn’t so oblivious that he believed the swirling, sinking feeling in his stomach was just feelings of anticipated friendship, and that the anxiety about him coming over was just because he was nervous about him having a good time.

…But he also didn’t think ‘liking’ him was the right expression to use. It felt less like a crush and more like a deep, sinking feeling, like the pull of a riptide. On Total Drama: World Tour, it had felt more like devotion; a willingness to serve a patron deity in return for a miniscule amount of affection. But now? Now it felt like it was something just out of his reach, so indescribably close that he could graze it with his fingertips, but not quite wrap his hands around it.

It felt real, possible, but obstructed by the past.

“...I don’t think ‘like’ is the right word for it.” He hummed, and he could practically hear Gwen raise her eyebrows.

“What? Do you think it’s more like love?” She hummed, and Noah adamantly shook his head.

“No, Jesus, I've known him for what, two weeks? It's not love, I don’t know what love feels like but this is not it, Gwen, trust me; It’s more like…” He trailed off, and with a final stroke, Gwen withdrew the brush from his hair and swivelled around to lean against the counter, staring down at him as he leaned forward on his knees.

“...Please don’t say it feels like devotion.” She spoke, a smile twitching at her lips and a humorous tone in her voice. There was a glint of hilarity in her eyes, and Noah couldn’t help but let out a snort as he stood shakily to his feet. Gwen turned, and began to rummage around in one of the small tubs on the sink. “Because that's, like, wildly unhealthy, dude. Do you want concealer?”

Concealer for the circles under his eyes, probably, and he let out a melodramatic sigh, and grinned.

“What? Do I not look good with dark circles under my eyes? I thought it added to the ‘ tortured academic turned corporate lifestyl e’ look.” He grinned, and Gwen rolled her eyes.

“You look great all the time, even with the dark circles.” She chuckled, and pulled a stick of liquid concealer out of the tub, and began to wave it around like a wand. Noah couldn’t help but grin a little bit harder, and through the open bathroom door, he could see Izzy doing a handstand in the living room, getting cheered on by Cody and Owen. “But seriously, I think you look good either way, but-?”

They looked like they were having fun, and that was pretty much all he could ask for right now… Actually, he could also ask for the concealer.

“Yes, please.” He muttered, the smile on his face reducing as he imagined Alejandro looking worriedly down at him, asking if he was sleeping alright. He didn’t want him to worry, he didn’t want him to pity him, so he nodded at Gwen, who wet a makeup sponge under the tap and unscrewed the bottle. “Is this why you bought me this?” He hummed, glancing down at the bottle.

Gwen shook her head, and took a step towards him.

“Tilt your head upwards, please… Perfect. No, I bought you concealer because you asked me to buy you concealer like three months ago.” She responded, and when Noah let out a hum of realisation, the two fell back into a quiet silence. In the background, he could hear the rest of their friends talking cheerfully in the living room, and the faint sounds of Owen singing to himself in the kitchen. He wasn’t very good, by any standards, but it was sincere, and it brought a smile to Noah’s face.

“...I think it’s more like, adoration, or something.” He muttered, staring up at the ceiling as Gwen began to dab the concealer under his eyes. The ceiling was plain, a cool cream colour, with cornice molding winding its way around the upper walls. “Yearning, maybe.”

“The way you feel about Alejandro? That’s a sweet synonym.” Gwen muttered back, and began to blend the concealer in with his skin. “Sounds positive, better than devotion.”

“I think a lot is better than devotion.” He sighed, and Gwen withdrew, putting her hands on her hips. She was looking at him with the same expression she used when she was studying her paintings; critical over the little minute details, but overall, proud, and warm. When Noah turned to look at himself in the mirror, he was amazed to find that he looked ten times more put together than he had before. His hair was nicely curled, his skin was clear, and his eyes were sparkling under the overhead light. “...How did you do that?”

Gwen snorted, and dropped the concealer gently into the tub once again.

“Better?” She mused, and Noah glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She was smiling smugly at him, but there was a hint of fondness in her eyes that made Noah turn back to his own reflection, and continue staring. He could see the beginnings of the electric eel scars just above his collar bones, poking out from under his layers of shirt. As he stared at him, he felt them start to itch, and with a long, tired blink, he turned to look back at Gwen. He did look better, and he let out a relieved breath.

“Yeah, better.” He muttered, and pulled back from the mirror. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all, Noah.” She hummed back, and the two of them lapsed back into a comfortable silence… But he couldn’t help but be aware of the scars running down his back, and he was struck with the realisation that he wasn’t wearing this exact outfit the last time he saw Alejandro, he had been wearing a turtleneck.

What would Alejandro think when he caught a glimpse of the marks on his skin? Would he know what they were from? Would he know they were almost his fault? Would he feel bad? Noah felt sick again, and judging by the look on Gwen’s face behind him, he was pretty sure she knew what he was thinking.

“...They’re not obvious.” She spoke, voicing exactly what he had been thinking. They looked obvious, at least while he was focusing on them. But he couldn’t believe that if you didn’t know what they were and why they were there, somebody’s eyes wouldn’t be drawn to them almost immediately, especially if they looked at him like Alejandro did.

“You’re just saying that because you know they’re there.” Noah ran tugged at the collar of his shirt, and let out a small, tiny groan. “Do you think he’ll… I don't know, ask? Care about them at all?”

At this, the look on Gwen’s face changed, the content demeanour changing to thoughtfulness as she began to stare at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t like the joy completely disappeared from her face, but she looked like she was reminiscing over something, remembering a memory that she hadn’t remembered in a while… From the look on her face, and the way she reached to scratch at the eel-scars on her arms, he figured it had something to do with the topic at hand.

After a few moments, she shook her head.

“He might ask, but if you think it’s a deal breaker romance-wise, I think you’re wrong.” She muttered and Noah looked at her in the mirror. Her voice was decisive, and as the seconds passed, he watched as she returned to the nonchalant demeanour she was always vaguely exuding.

“...How do you know that?” He raised an eyebrow and turned to look at her, properly this time. There was a glint in her eye, vaguely mischievous, and entirely full of anticipation. She looked back at him, and as a smile twitched onto her face again, she shrugged.

“He and Heather are pretty alike.” She began, and pulled out her phone to look at the time. Then she added, quietly and with a tone he couldn’t quite identify. “And they weren’t a deal breaker for her.”

Huh.

Noah opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Gwen cleared her throat, and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s 5:55, and I can bet that they’re going to be here at 6 on the dot.” She hummed, and grinned at him. “Don’t wanna be hiding in the bathroom when your date gets here, huh?”

Another diversion, but Noah couldn’t help the anxious groan that escaped from his throat as he looked up at her. She looked so much more nonchalant about this than he felt, and he was jealous about it. Gwen simply put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and tilted her head with a warm smile.

“He cares about you, like a lot. It’ll go well, I promise.”

Her tone was so genuine, that Noah had no trouble believing her. Her eyes glittered under the cool bathroom light, and her hair fell gently into her face, brushing against porcelain skin and carefully drawn-on eyeliner. She looked warm, sincere, even. So he sighed, and reached up to rub nervously at the back of his neck.

“...You promise? How do you know that?” He grumbled, trying and failing to keep the pleading, anxious tone out of his voice. Gwen simply stretched her arms above her head, and cracked her neck to the side. 

“Because if it starts to go badly, I'll fix it… Or I'll divert the attention, depending on why it starts to go bad.” She hummed, and Noah grinned. She always knew exactly what to say, and as she spun around, taking a few steps out of the bathroom and clapping her hands together, he let out a tired, but this time content, sigh.

From outside the bathroom, he heard his friends quieten down, and after a few moments of silence, he rolled his eyes as he heard Gwen laugh, and step to the side.

“Now presenting my latest masterpiece-” She grinned, and turned around, gesturing for him to walk through the door. With a reluctant groan, he shoved his hands into his pockets, and tried to hide the amused smile on his face as he walked through the doorway. “-Noah!”

Izzy, in all her delight, let out a series of hollers and yells, while Cody started to wolf whistle. Owen simply began to cackle, grinning, while Eva slowly began to clap, smiling politely as Izzy draped herself over her. Cody tilted his head to the side, and grinned up at the two of them, very amused.

“You work magic.” He mused, gaze flicking over to Gwen as he spoke. Gwen let out a laugh, and Noah scoffed, a little bit offended.

“This isn’t a fashion show! And what do you mean she works magic? ” He scowled jokingly, and walked over to the couch so he could punch him in the arm. Cody yelped, and When he looked back at Gwen, she was standing with her hands on her hips, watching them happily.

“Well, it helps that I already had a very pretty canvas.” She grinned, and swept herself over to the kitchen, where she began to talk contentedly to Owen, who held out a teaspoon of pesto for her to try. (When he watched her smile, and made an anecdote about how good it was, he grinned. Exactly what they had thought.)

Now, the only thing left for him to do was wait.

The table was set, the food was being cooked, a selection of 20th century hits was drifting quietly from the speakers around the room, and the only people not here yet were Alejandro and Heather. Gwen had said that they would be on time, and he could definitely believe that Heather was one of those people who liked to be punctual on the dot… If she liked to be on time, did it make a bad impression when he was late to pick Alejandro up last Monday? Or was the misunderstanding readily accepted? The thought made his stomach flip, before he sighed, and leaned against the arm of the sofa, and began to semi-listen as Cody began to talk about some TV series he had started recently.

Semi-listen, because he was so busy watching the door that he didn’t quite hear half of the words Cody was saying.

He was significantly… Less worried about dinner than he was half an hour ago. He had faith in Gwen’s ability to sooth a conflict, and faith in Owen’s ability to cook food so good it could unite differences. He had a little bit less faith in Izzy’s ability to be cool for the next couple of hours, but that was balanced by Eva’s inability to not be cool, and Cody’s actually-pretty-good conversational skills.

Speaking off, Noah had just about tuned back into Cody’s voice, and was nodding along as he started to talk disappointedly about the show’s finale, when there was another knock at his door

Jesus Christ .

He felt a wave of nausea pass through his stomach, making its way through his bones and through his blood, until it manifested into a full-body shudder he was unable to suppress. Alejandro was about to be in his apartment , talking to his friends and looking at his books; Eating at his table, drinking from his glasses. It made Noah want to curl up like a pill-bug and disappear into the couch cushions… But he knew that somewhere, beneath the anxious feeling in his stomach and the heart beating rapidly in his chest, there was anticipation, a part of him that wanted so badly for this to happen, and happen successfully , that he was willing to bypass the fear.

So he stood up, and rocketed to the door, spinning around rapidly to face the rest of his friends. They looked just as nervous as he did, save for Eva and Izzy, who looked pretty much content. Owen was rapidly stirring the pot of now-boiling ravioli on the stove, and Gwen was gripping the counter so hard her knuckles were white. Cody was cheering on the inside of his cheeks… So he took a deep breath, and muttered as quietly as he could while making sure they could still hear him;

“...Be cool, please.”

And he spun back around, not gauging their responses before he swung open the door to reveal… to reveal exactly who he was expecting to reveal;

Heather and Alejandro.

Heather was standing slightly in front of Alejandro, her hair loose and brushing against her collarbones. Her usual furrowed brow and tight-lipped scowl were replaced with an expression of nonchalant-contentment, and as a smile grew on his face, he watched as her gaze flicked idly around the apartment behind him, settled on Gwen for more than a few milliseconds, and then returned to him. Alejandro, settled just slightly behind Heather, had an easy smile resting on his face, and simply looked at him warmly, not even bothering to look around the rest of the apartment.

There was an indescribable tension in the air. He could imagine that Gwen’s eyes were fixed purely onto Heather’s face, and judging by the way Izzy hadn’t jumped up immediately to greet them, he presumed that she wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He couldn’t see the expression’s on his friends' faces, but Cody and Eva were probably sizing them up, and Owen was probably ignoring what was going on completely, in favour of ensuring nothing burned.

…Okay, he hadn’t expected things to be this awkward. Sure, he had thought that maybe conversation would peter off after an hour or so, or that a fight would start over a mention of Total Drama, but immediately ? Jesus Christ, this was worse than he thought it-

But his thoughts were interrupted by Alejandro raising a canvas bag he was holding, and sending him a mischievous glance, before his gaze averted to the rest of the apartment.

“...We brought wine?” He hummed as he tilted his head, and behind him (Much to Noah’s embarrassment, but also to Alejandro’s delight, it seemed.) Cody let out a very audible;

“ Fuck yeah , is it red?”

Alejandro looked past him, eyes locked onto Cody, and he smirked, Not the reality TV smirk he wore on the show, but the amused, smug smile he used when he was right about something, or when he knew he had made a correct decision.

“Naturally, would you like a glass, Cody ?” He mused, and Noah swivelled around in time to watch Cody stand up; the boy looked like he was having the time of his life, and he placed his hands on his hips and grinned.

“I would love one, Alejandro .”

And just like that, the tension disappeared, and Noah let out a quiet sigh of relief. He stepped to the side, gesturing for the two to come in as Cody began to make his way to the kitchen, and Izzy jumped to her feet, placing her hands decisively on her hips. Heather hesitated for a moment, before she nodded at him and raised her eyebrows.

“Thanks for the invite, nerd.” She muttered, and placed a brief hand on his shoulder. He was sure that there was something in her eyes that looked a little bit like nervousness, but ultimately, her expression betrayed nothing but determination.

“No problem at all, I'm glad you could make it.” He said, smiling, and the tension in Heather’s shoulders eased as the corners of her lips twitched upwards. As she toed off her shoes, however, the tension reappeared almost instantly as she narrowly missed being tackled by Izzy, who was grabbed almost instantly by Eva.

He looked away before he could watch the rest of the interaction, snorting quietly into his hand so that none of the three parties could see him laughing. Coincidentally, turning away meant that he suddenly came face to face with Alejandro, who was looking across at him with the most nonchalantly-excited (How he could simultaneously be those two things at once, Noah had no idea at all.) expression on his face that Noah had ever seen. He was wearing one of those low-cut, button up shirts that exposed his collarbones to the world, and Noah felt a jolt go up his spine at the sight of the scar running down his neck; Almost instantly, he snapped his gaze away, and back up to his face.

His face, and coincidently, his lips in the process.

‘ I think it’s more like adoration. Yearning, maybe.’

He snapped his eyes up, practically forming himself to make eye contact with the boy as he stood in the doorway. He could feel his mouth dry up, but just as he was about to speak, Alejandro tilted his head, and flashed a warm, excited grin at him.

“May I come in, dear Noah?” He hummed, and Noah didn’t even bother trying to hide the smile that began to grow on his face.

“Of course, Alejandro.” He mused, and watched as Alejandro stepped inside and began to step gracefully out of his shoes. He looked more content than Heather was, less nervous to be here in comparison to half of the other friends in attendance. Maybe that was because he didn’t have any specific enemies present, and wasn’t in danger of clashing with anybody like Eva or Heather; or maybe, it was because he was genuinely… genuinely happy to be there, happy to spend time with Noah and his friends at his request. As he stepped out of his shoes, he leaned over, and Noah felt his heart stop in his chest as his breath fanned across his neck and he whispered into his ear, before pulling away again.

“Thank you, truly, for the invitation my dear.” He murmured into his ear, and Noah jolted as he pulled away, and glanced knowingly at him before he turned towards the kitchen. “Why don’t we get Cody his glass of wine, hm?”

The questioning hum at the end of his sentence tilted upwards, and Alejandro’s confident gaze momentarily flickered back to him. It suddenly struck him that Alejandro likely didn’t want to go alone; In the kitchen was Owen, who he was definitely nervous about talking to (If only for the reasons of disliking him.), Cody, and Gwen , who Noah was very confused about his stance on.

…He didn’t even need to think about it. The glittering in his eyes almost made him dumbstruck.

“Of course, the kitchen’s over here, if- uh, if you couldn’t already tell.” He started, cringing at the stuttering in his words as he began to walk towards the kitchen. Alejandro simply let out a snort as he led the way, happily sliding behind him as they moved.

—

The wine, as it turns out, was pretty good.

It was some vaguely expensive stuff that Heather had won in a university contest a while back, one that they had apparently been saving for a somewhat special occasion. According to them, it seemed, this was a more-than-suitable occasion, so much so that it was worth bringing three bottles of it with them. (Much to Cody’s delight.)

It also, as Owen pointed out happily as Alajndro pulled the first bottle brom the bag, paired nicely with the ravioli.

Eventually, after about thirty more minutes of waiting, talking, and drinking, Owen had happily announced that food was ready, and everyone was welcome to as much as they wanted. They had all taken their plates, sat down at the recently-cleaned mahogany dining table that Noah had gotten for free on facebook marketplace, and begun what was probably the most surprisingly-peaceful dinner Noah had seen, well, ever.

Well, it’s not like it was actually very peaceful. In reality, it just went better than Noah had expected, which he counted as a win.

Gwen had settled herself down at the table first, and seeing that she had done so, Heather had quickly excused herself from the conversation she was having with Cody to go and sit beside her. He was pretty sure he had watched Gwen freeze when Heather placed a hand on her shoulder, circling around her to sit in the seat next to hers, but after a few hushed sentences, the tension in her shoulders eased, and the two contented to talk, quietly, meaningfully. Eva and Izzy had been next; Izzy dropping herself into the chair at one end of the table, and Eva in the one closest to her, grinning as the red-head was rattling on about her recent escapades with the local council. (Upon hearing that Izzy was thinking about running for a place in the local office, Heather had choked on her drink, and needed a few seconds to compose herself.)

Then it had been him and Alejandro. Alejandro had sat himself down next to Heather, which, unfortunately for him, meant that sitting next to him would be almost as far as he could possibly be from Gwen. She looked… She looked like she was having a good time, though, staring almost adoringly at Heather as she spoke quietly about her classes, and her new house.

Actually, the way Gwen was looking at Heather made his cheeks start to heat up, and he averted his eyes rather quickly. It looked like something he wasn’t meant to witness, something that he couldn’t comprehend quite yet. So he had sat next to Alejandro, and after a few more minutes, Owen and Cody had sat down with them, and the table was alight with conversation.

“...Yeah, I was a little bit surprised when they decided to end it like that, I mean seriously, they put in so much effort for practically nothing to happen in the finale.” He heard Cody mutter, quite dejectedly to Owen. From what he could gather, they were talking about the show Cody was telling him about before, and neither of them were looking upon it very favourably.

“I was kind of hoping that they would, I don't know, not make them end up together? Neither of them needed the relationship, it was just set up because of the ratings.” Owen responded, and he watched Cody nod vigorously.

He had no idea what they were talking about, but a delighted laugh from Gwen on the other side of the table swivelled his head around.

She was grinning, but instead of at Heather, she was grinning at Alejandro , and Alejandro was grinning back.

“That’s great!” She mused, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her head on her hand. Alejandro was looking just as excited as she was, and he nodded vigorously at her as she spoke. “Was he the one that grades really harshly?”

“Yes, he is.” Alejandro replied, his eyes twinkling. “Never given a grade over a 90 in his life, except to me , of course.”

His voice was coy, and while in most circumstances, it was the kind of voice and tone that would make Gwen roll her eyes in disgust, she looked practically elated at his words, and Noah couldn’t help but smile as he watched them.

Any animosity towards Gwen that Alejandro had been harbouring had seemed to melt away within the last few minutes, and was instead replaced with a kind of fondness similar to the kind he himself felt for the goth. It was a little bit like a switch had been flipped, and the two, previously on very uncertain terms, had completely made up their differences in favour of a common interest.

“Well done .” She grinned, and reached behind Heather, holding a hand out for a high-five. To his immense surprise, he returned it instantly, and ran a hand through his hair, almost bashfully, when she added on a; “I knew you could do it.”

What they were talking about, he had no idea, but from what he could gather, it had something to do with a class Alejandro was taking for his university course. Watching the two get along so well after truly having no idea how they were going to react when seeing each other again… well, it made the tension in Noah’s bones fade, and he continued to glance around the rest of the table.

Izzy, Heather, and Eva were engaged in a conversation about Geoff and Bridgette, and how their previously-private relationship drama had recently taken a pretty public turn for the worse. He had known that Izzy and Heather were pretty big gossips, but watching Eva nod along, adding her own two-cents in every now and again, made him humorously roll his eyes.

“I mean, it’s his fault.” Izzy grinned, popping a piece of ravioli into her mouth and chewing on it excitedly. “If he didn’t start vague-posting on twitter, none of this would’ve happened!”

Heather hummed in confirmation, nodding, and taking a sip of her drink.

“Exactly, Bridgette was being mature about it and keeping everything private, but of course, he has to go and ruin it all; Now she’s under all this media attention, and quite frankly, she doesn’t deserve to be harassed like that.”

Izzy grinned, and raised her glass with a giggle.

“This is why boys don’t work out!” She laughed, and Eva snorted. “I don’t understand why people put up with them, you can replace them with animals, drugs, women-”

At this, Heather let out a snort, and from across the table, Cody let out a mock-offended yelp

“C’mon.” He grinned, and Heather simply raised her glass to him in salute. Owen started to laugh, and Cody, Izzy and Gwen quickly followed; the three of them divulging into giggles as Heather looked across at them smugly.

Christ, it really was going better than expected. Everybody was getting along, nobody was fighting, and it seemed like ultimately, everybody was having a pretty good time.

It’s probably good that I didn’t jump out of the window. Noah thought, smiling into his glass, and chuckling along with the rest of them as they laughed. This is fun.

He was so focused on the rest of his giggling friends, that he almost didn’t notice when Alejandro turned his head stealthily to look at him. In fact, the only reason he noticed was because the other boy purposely bumped his knee against Noah’s own, and by default, his gaze snapped lazily towards him.

He almost choked on his drink.

Alejandro didn’t look any different than before, but the other boy simply looking at him was enough to make his heart start to race.

Adoration, yearning.

He looked like he was having a wonderful time, an easy smile resting on his face in place of the strained one he had seen him wearing on the show when he had been around these people last. He was leisurely swaying his fork around in his fingers, and as he looked at him, Noah watched as he popped a piece of ravioli in his mouth, swallowed it, and smiled. Upon doing this, he finally opened his mouth to speak, and Noah tilted his head.

“This is delicious.” He hummed, gesturing at the plate in front of him. “Owen truly made these?”

Noah nodded, and Alejandro raised his eyebrows in vague shock. Truly, it couldn’t be that much of a surprise, considering how much Owen cared and knew about food, but still; Alejandro had never tasted Owen’s cooking before, so he could understand the confusion.

“Yeah, completely homemade; he’s pretty good at pasta.” He murmured back, and Alejandro glanced across the table at him. Owen was still laughing, responding to something that Izzy had said with warm enthusiasm. “You look like you hate him less, y’know.”

At this, Alejandro snorted, and swished his fork around his plate again.

“You… You weren't lying when you said that they were different when not on television.” He smiled, and looked around the table, a friendly look in his eyes as he surveyed his friends. His eyes, Noah noticed, lingered on Gwen for more than a few seconds longer than everyone else, and he narrowed his eyes slightly as Alejandro continued. “Truly, I am… enjoying myself.”

Noah took a bite of the ravioli on his fork, chewing on it thoughtfully for a few seconds before letting out a warm hum of acknowledgement, and his gaze flickered over to Gwen. She was smiling at Izzy, listening as the other girl droned on about something he wasn’t listening to… That meant she wasn’t listening to him, and he turned back to Alejandro, lowering his voice significantly and blinking, slowly.

“I’m glad…” He hummed, sucking in a breath as Alejandro leaned in closer so that he could hear him better. “Seriously, I was kind of scared you were going to have a shitty time.”

Alejandro cocked an eyebrow, and a mischievous smile played on his features. He looked so… he looked like he belonged here; sitting in a chair at Noah's dining room table, leaning so close he could almost feel his breath fanning across his cheeks.

“Why, because of your friends?” He murmured, obviously intended as a joke, but when Noah furrowed his brow slightly in agreement, his eyes widened a little bit, and he tilted his head. “...Noah, did you really think I wouldn’t enjoy their company?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure whether or not you would, uh, actually like them very much, but I thought you might! That’s why I invited you, y’know?” His voice was still quiet, but the inflections at the end of his sentences made him cringe, and he kept watching Alejandro's expression.

…Was he angry about this? Annoyed that Noah would put him through several hours of something he wouldn’t enjoy? Jesus, did he think this was some sort of punishment, or retribution? Noah felt himself start to sweat, and an itch started to crawl its way up his spine, spreading across his back and pulling at his collarbones like somebody was yanking away at his skin. But… Alejandro’s face didn’t betray any sort of anger, confusion, maybe, but nothing angry. After a few moments, he reached up subconsciously to scratch at the skin beneath his shirt collar, and he watched as the other boy’s eyes darted down to his collarbones, and a flash of recognition danced across his eyes.

Jesus christ, he was going to ask-

But then Alejandro simply let out an amused hum, and leaned sideways on his hand.

“...Well, I’m glad you took the chance.” He mused, raising an eyebrow teasingly at him, and raising his glass to his lips; before he took a sip, he added: “I had faith in you that I would, my dear.”

Jesus Christ , that wasn’t the first time Alejandro had called him ‘My Dear’ that night; usually, it was always followed by his own name, and endearment that he had come to know, but simply ‘my dear’? That was new, that was intimate . It made his heart leap in his chest and his skin itch and- It made him feel warm .

“I-” He started, but had to clear his throat, and reach hurriedly for his glass, taking a quick gulp before he continued, hoping that Alejandro would assume his red cheeks were due to vague-tipsiness instead of embarrassment, or fluster. “-Me too, with taking the chance, I mean.”

Alejandro only grinned at him in return, and with an embarrassed cough, Noah began to speak once again, raising his voice back to the normal level, and glancing consciously around the rest of the table. From what he could tell, nobody had noticed their hushed voices, or at least, they didn’t seem to care enough to comment on it.

“So, uh, how are your classes going?” He spoke, poking his fork into a piece of pasta and glancing back to Alejandro once again. “Have you gotten a grade back on that assignment? Like, the essay about the, uh, the plays? Which one was it?”

Alejandro raised an eyebrow, the smile only growing on his face.

“Agamemnon?” He hummed, and Noah snapped his fingers, nodding.

“Yeah, how’d that go?”

“Well-” Alejandro began, his voice smug, prideful, and his fingers spinning the glass around in his hands. Noah thought he looked a lot like the sun.

—

Noah was sprawled out on the couch, his head hanging backwards off the cushions and legs draped over the back. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, and the flush growing on his cheeks, but he could also hear the melodic tune of some artist he could vaguely recognise flowing through the speakers scattered around the room, and he watched, mesmerised, as Gwen, Cody and Izzy danced gracefully around the floor in front of him.

The three were giggling, spinning around to the tune of the music with a carelessness that only ever came with complete and utter contentment. Izzy was laughing louder than the rest of them; she liked to dance,  so much so that she had taken classes until she was recruited onto the show. Since World Tour, she had apparently picked them up again with even more enthusiasm and vigour than before. Gwen hadn’t taken any lessons, but she was naturally graceful and could definitely carry a tune, so she looked almost natural beside her; Cody could also carry a tune, of course he could, but he looked like he cared more about having a good time than dancing well.

The music was something he knew, a tune and voice that he had definitely heard before, but he wasn’t quite able to put his finger on what it was; only that he liked it.

As he watched, upside down and slowly getting dizzy, he could see Heather sitting in the armchair across from him. One of her legs was crossed over her knee, and in one of her hands she was nursing a wine glass. Noah figured that it was probably the same one she had at the beginning of the night; he had heard her mention that she was driving home, and seeing that Alejandro didn't have a licence (And he was definitely not the most sober person in Noah’s apartment.) it was definitely something he could believe. But Noah wasn’t looking at the glass in her hand, in fact, his eyes were purely fixed on her expression.

She was watching the three dancing around the living room as well, but her gaze, unlike his own, was purely fixed onto Gwen. It was almost like she couldn’t take her eyes off her; trailing after the goth as Izzy spun her around, or when she bumped accidentally into Cody. Her head was tilted slightly to the side, and the hand not nursing the glass was toying with a necklace resting against her neck.

It was pretty, a pearl droplet hanging on a dainty silver chain. It matched her earrings.

But her expression, Jesus Christ, the look on her face ; it was like she was mesmerised, like she was seeing Gwen in an entirely new light than before. It was the expression of somebody in the middle of a revelation, the middle of a realisation that was about to change their life…

…And it might be the tipsiness, or the serotonin boost, or simply just the timing, but Noah was pretty sure he knew what it was.

He was about to get up, about to stop the blood rushing to his head and maybe go talk to her, but he stopped still as he watched Gwen spin away from the other two, and slide gracefully over to Heather. Instantly, Heather’s expression shifted, and when Gwen stopped, she was looking up at her with amused, and definitely not serious, contempt.

“Come dance with me.” He heard Gwen hum, so lovingly that Noah almost slid off the couch, and she reached out a hand for Heather to take, probably to use in order to pull herself up off the couch. Heather simply raised an eyebrow, and tilted her head to the other side, swishing the wineglass around. Gwens eyes momentarily glanced down to it, before jumping back to Heather’s face.

“Sorry, I don’t dance with weirdos .” He watched Heather reply. Her tone lacked any seriousness and any indicator that she was trying to be hurtful, instead, it was so obviously joking that even he could pick up on it. This only made the smile on Gwen’s face grow, and she leaned down, moving just a little bit closer to her.

“But you love to dance.” She smiled, and Heather rolled her eyes, smirking, and sat up a little bit straighter in the chair. “And you’re so good at it, y’know?”

At this, Heather chuckled.

“It would be hard for me to not be good, considering I’ve been dancing since I was three.”

That’s right, she had been. Noah could remember watching the episode of Total Drama Island where they held the talent show, and he could remember that he had actually been pretty impressed by her ballet abilities.

…Ballet. The Ballerina painting in Alejandro’s living room.

“See, you’re so good I need you to come teach me. C’mon, you’re beautiful when you dance, Heather.”

This made Heather still, if only slightly, and something in Gwen’s eyes flashed, like she thought that she made a mistake. But Heather’s expression didn’t change, if anything, it got warmer; the smile on her lips twitched upwards, and she blinked, slowly, fondly , up at the girl in front of her. Gwen didn’t withdraw, but for a few seconds, it looked like she wanted to; that was, however, until Heather let out a hum, and raised the glass in her hand up to Gwen’s lips.

Noah didn’t quite know what to think.

“...Do you want me to drop you home later?” Heather’s words weren’t any louder than a mumble, and Gwen took a sip from the glass. Her lipstick, a dark teal, stained the edge of the glass, only slightly, and Gwen shook her head, licking her lips as she pulled away, also only slightly.

“...No thank you, I’m staying the night.” She replied, voice just as low as Heathers, and just as filled with some sort of un-tapped emotion. Heather furrowed her eyebrows in vague confusion, and when she did so, Gwen continued. “Uh, Noah likes when I crash here after dinner, y’know? We like, uh, debrief and usually fall asleep on his couch, I guess. And then we have breakfast together in the morning.”

It had been like that ever since he moved into the apartment. Izzy and Eva usually went home together, and since Owen’s place was on the way to both of theirs, he usually went with them. It was Noah’s idea for her to sleep over at his place the first time, why he did, he couldn’t remember, but it was a routine they had kept up since, and one he didn’t intend to break.

Heather, upon hearing this, leaned back slightly, and Noah wasn’t able to read her expression.

“...Alright.” Was all she said, and Gwen was left staring at her, hesitation in her eyes and a twitch in her fingers. As Noah watched, he could see the gears turning in her head, slowed by indecision, weariness and wine, and after a few moments, she opened her mouth to speak.

“...Noah would let you stay over, too.” She spoke, voice steady, and something changed in Heather’s posture. “I mean, if you wanted to, of course.”

He would definitely let Heather stay over if it meant Gwen was happy; truthfully, he had kind of been enjoying her company this evening. But also, if Heather, the designated driver, stayed over, then that meant Alejandro would also stay over, and, well, Noah would gladly take that opportunity if it arose. But he simply continued to lie there, waiting for Heather’s answer. She looked like she was considering it, a long enough time for Noah’s head to start to ache, and his hands to start twitching, but eventually, she blinked, placed the wineglass on the floor next to the chair, and took Gwen’s hand.

“...Let’s dance.” Was all she said, and there was something in her voice, an inflection or a tone or something, that made Gwen’s eyes light up, and with a delighted laugh, she spun back to Izzy and Cody, only this time with Heather trailing behind her, fondly exasperated and gripping her hand for dear life.

Jesus Christ.

Gwen’s past relationship with Heather was starting to become a lot more obvious than he had been able to see before. They way they looked at each other didn’t look like the way two friends looked at eachother, in fact, it reminded him of-

-It reminded him of the way he looked at Alejandro, and the way Alejandro looked at him.

If Noah didn’t sit up right now he was going to pass out.

“Jesus Christ-” He groaned, swinging his legs off the back of the couch and hoisting his torso up into a sitting position, so that he was once again upright and no longer hanging off the furniture. He felt nauseous, and a little confused on why he had been sitting – or rather lying – like that in the first place. “-I’m going to be sick .”

He didn’t realise that anybody had been close enough to hear him, but at his remark, he heard a concerned cough come from behind him, and he dizzily whipped around to see Alejandro and Owen looking down at him from behind the couch.

“You alright, little buddy?” Owen frowned, tilting his head. Next to him, Alejandro looked even more concerned, and he leaned forward to brush a hair out of his face. That, decisively, did not help, and only succeeded in warming his cheeks a little bit more.

“Yeah, ‘course, I need some fresh air.” He nodded, smiled, and as gently as he could, rose from the couch. “And some water, Jesus, why was I sitting like that ?”

The last part of his sentence was added as a question to himself, one that he couldn’t answer, but disregarding the two boys behind him, he took a few long steps out to the balcony attached to his apartment.

The balcony was not a large space, but it was the only access Noah had to complete and utter fresh air directly from his apartment, besides the windows, of course. Residents of the apartment complex had access to the building’s roof, but that involved taking several flights of stairs, or the gateway to hell (The elevator.) and there was something about being on the roof that made him a little bit freaked out. Going to stand out by the street involved the same thing, but the balcony, the balcony , was almost like some sort of safe haven.

It was a small, rectangle patio with barely enough space to fit more than three people, but when the sun set every evening, the glass doors allowed more light to flow into his apartment than any other time of day. A few weeks after he had first moved in, he had hauled two wooden chairs out so that he could sit and read, or have a conversation with somebody in the fresh air. It was a space that he and Eva frequented, her preferring the freedom of the outside to his cluttered apartment, and him willing to be wherever she wanted to be.

As he swung the door open, he was met with the sight of the city sprawled out around him. This wasn’t the largest building in the area, but as he stepped forward, socks slipping against the concrete, to lean against the railing and breath , it almost felt like he was on top of the world.

It was peaceful, and he took a deep, deep breath, inhaling oxygen like a suffocated man.

Then he heard the door swing open behind him, and he didn’t have time to turn around and figure out who the person was before something bumped against his arm, and he turned to see that it was… a glass of water.

“You, ah, said you required a drink?” A voice rang out, cool, melodious, and uncertain in the night air. Noah didn’t need to see the person to know who it was.

Gingerly, he reached out to take the glass from the person’s hand, and glanced around to see Alejandro taking a step forward in order to lean against the balcony railing next to him. He was looking out across the city, an expression of wonder in his eyes as the lights in building windows blinked, and tiny cars raced down streets.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, and Alejandro glanced towards him again, a content smile on his face as Noah took a long, greedy gulp, practically downing the entire glass in a few seconds. “I really don’t think sitting like that was good for my neck.”

“You looked reasonably comfortable.” Alejandro snorted, and Noah let out a string of sarcastic chuckles, rolling his eyes. “What? Truly, it looked peaceful!”

“Peaceful, but also awful , I can still feel the blood rushing to my head, dude.”

The two simply stood there, almost unable to stop giggling as they stared at each other. Noah felt like his eyes were unable to leave Alejandro’s; his own deep brown iris’s staring into Alejandro’s, green like olive oil and grease. The thought, the feeling, made Noah feel a little bit more sick, so after a while, after the laughs had been depleted from his chest and he was left sucking in air once again, he dropped himself down into one of the wooden chairs, and leaned back to look at the sky.

Subconsciously, he heard Alejandro do the same, settling down in the chair opposite him, and feeling the other boy’s knees brush against his own, but he didn’t turn to look at him; he was too busy looking at the stars.

The day had been clear, and if it were possible, the sky was even more clear of clouds than it had been several hours ago. Despite the light pollution, he could see dozens of tiny stars littering the sky, and after a few minutes of intent searching, squinting until his eyes hurt, he raised his arm to point, gesturing vaguely upwards. He could feel Alejandro’s gaze on him, so he let out a small cough, clearing his throat.

“That’s- uh, that’s Orion, I think.” He spoke, muttering quietly above the steadily increasing music from inside the apartment. Now that he was listening to it properly, he felt like he should have been able to figure out who the artist was, but still, he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

After a few moments, Alejandro let out a hum, and when Noah lowered his gaze to look at him, the other boy was staring intently up at the sky, eyes narrowed in concentration.

“...I think you’re right, if you’re looking where I think you’re looking.” He murmured, and glanced down to look at him once again. Noah could see his reflection glinting in Alejandro’s eyes, and if he stared, he would probably be able to see the milky way in his irises. “Do you know a lot about constellations, Noah?”

Noah snorted, and shook his head. He watched as Alejandro’s lips quirked up in amusement.

“...No, not at all.” He sighed, and tipped his head back again. “I, uh, I just read about it- Orion, that is, recently, and I can still remember what it looks like.”

This made Alejandro snort, and Noah could feel the smile grow on his face as the other boy laughed.

“I admire the admission of truth.”

“Would you have been impressed If I had said I did know about constellations?” Noah followed up, hopefully raising an eyebrow as he watched Alejandro’s expression. It was still content, and his cheeks were flush; from the cold of the balcony or the remnants of wine in his system, it was a toss up.

“I would have been, but I also would have asked you to tell me more.” Alejandro chuckled, and Noah let out a groan as he looked at him.

He brought his knees up to his chest. The balcony was cold, and he could feel the breeze from being so high up gently buffering against the building. He was glad that he was wearing a long-sleeve under his shirt, despite the fact that it didn’t truly provide any actual warmth.

“You would’ve asked me to tell you more? About Orion?” He hummed, and Alejandro nodded. “Really? I would have thought you were more qualified than me to talk about that kind of thing.”

Alejandro raised an eyebrow.

“What kind of thing? Constellations?”

“Greek mythos.” Noah corrected, and Alejandro let out a sigh of realisation, tilting his head to the side and smiling brightly. “That’s part of your uni course, right? You would’ve asked about it and only gotten an explanation you already knew, I suppose.”

“It is part of my university course.” He grinned, so genuinely that it made his heart flutter. “And I would’ve asked about it and gotten your explanation… Truly, I think it’s useful to hear others' interpretations of ancient myths, especially yours.”

It was Noah’s turn to raise his eyebrows, and he tilted his head to look at him curiously.

“‘ Especially ’ mine?”

“...I enjoy hearing what you think about things.” Alejandro stated, and very pointedly did not elaborate. For a few moments, they simply stared at each other, knees bumping against each other, brief pinpricks of warmth and human contact despite the cold air.

He enjoys hearing what I think about things. He thought. Objectively, he already knew this, but with the drinks running through his system and the breeze brushing against his skin, this felt almost like the revelation of the century. After a while of comfortable silence, Noah blinked at him, and tilted his head with a questioning hum.

“...Do you have a favourite?”

“...Favourite what? Myth?” Alejandro questioned, and Noah nodded. Gwen’s favourite myth was of Pygmalion and Galatea, for more reasons than he could recall, but undoubtedly, if anybody were to ask her about her favourite piece of Greek mythology, then it would definitely be that. “Well, there are certainly many to choose from-”

Noah snorted, and watched the fond smile on Alejandro’s face grow. After a few seconds of Alejandro thinking, he scooted his chair forward so that they were closer together, and he smiled. Eventually, after a few moments, he snapped his fingers together.

“Athena and Arachne.” He spoke, carefully at first, but as if he was realising that he was telling the truth to himself, he ended the words decisively. Noah raised an eyebrow, a signal for him to continue. “I think that It’s an perfect example of the base that many greek myths are built upon; A human falls victim to their hubris, manages to offend a god, and in return, the god smites them down, transforming them into an object, an animal, or, perhaps, a constellation.”

Huh . The word ‘ constellation ’ made Noah glance up at the sky again; He was pretty sure that Orion had pissed off one of the gods as well, and in retaliation, they had sent a scorpion to kill him. His memory of it was hazy, and he couldn’t quite remember what had happened, other than the fact that he had been turned into a constellation after his death.

“...That’s a sweet way of looking at it.” Noah smiled, and Alejandro smiled.

“I have many favourites, but I like spiders, and I enjoy reading about weaving.” He hummed, and Noah couldn’t help the smile growing on his face. There was something about the way Alejandro talked that made him want to throw himself at him, press their lips together and run his hands through his hair.

… Adoration it truly was.

“...What about you?” He added, and Noah blinked. “What myth best speaks to you, my dear Noah?”

What was his favourite myth? It was a question that Noah hadn’t really ever thought about; He enjoyed the Odyssey, and there was a part of him that was partial to Apollo and Hyacinthus, but ultimately… There was only one thing he could say, one tale that popped up at the centre of his mind the second he heard the phrase ‘ what myth best speaks to you ’. Because of course, what spoke to him more lately than-

“-Icarus and Daedalus.” He murmured, averting his eyes from Alejandro and instead turning to look out at the railing. He could see the glittering lights from behind the glass, and the faint sound of the city below them. “It’s bittersweet, I guess, something about the metaphor… I don’t know, it resonates with me, or something.”

He wasn’t looking at Alejandro, so he couldn’t see his reaction, but his reply danced through the air like wax wings over the sea.

“...Which part of it?” Alejandro hummed, and it was all Noah could do to keep his gaze off the boy in front of him. He figured that if he looked, caught even a glimpse of the easy smile on his face or the olive-green eyes then he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from blurting out everything he was thinking, or alternatively, in attempt to stop himself from blurting out every messy feeling in his soul, attempting to throw himself off the side of the building.

So he took a deep breath.

“...Icarus falling, I think. Despite all of the warnings and the explicit instructions he was given, he’s so mesmerised by the sun and the feeling of flying that he disregards it all; and because of that, the thing that he was so mesmerised by melts his wings, sending him plummeting into the sea.”

Alejandro let out a thoughtful hum, and he could hear him adjusting slightly in his seat.

“That is very bittersweet, isn’t it?” He murmured, and Noah finally turned back to look at him, nodding. Alejandro’s eyes were fixed on him, content and warm. But then, to Noah’s vague, underlying horror, he continued. “It’s a wonderful metaphor, too.”

It’s all Noah could do not to freeze, and instead, he moved his hand to rest on the arm of the chair, and he rested his chin on his hand.

“...I think it depends on what the metaphor is being used for.” He replied, and Alejandro raised a delightful eyebrow.

“That is true, nothing is ever universal.” The boy before him sighed. “I see it used as a metaphor for love all the time-”

Noah was going to throw himself of the side of this fucking balcony. How Alejandro had just reached into the depths of his mind and yanked out ‘Icarus as a metaphor for love’, he didn’t know, (Well, he did know. He had brought it up, he had indulged him in the questions, and he would no doubt continue to listen as he spoke.), but it made him so sick he thought that he was going to throw up.

“And while under certain circumstances, of course it can work, but as a blanket idea, I think comparing Icarus to love, or using the tale of Icarus and Daedalus as a metaphor for a relationship foreshadows… well, a downfall.” Alejandro hummed, blinking at him and then averting his gaze up to the sky again.

Wax wings, a flight too close to the sun resulting in the death of somebody too young to die. Noah was going to throw up, no, not metaphorically; he could feel the bile rising up his throat and it was all he could do to swallow it back down and stare, a mask of calm over his horrified expression, at Alejandro. He didn’t say anything, hoping that Alejandro would elaborate, but after a few moments of nothing, he cleared his throat, and sucked in a breath.

“...You mean because Icarus’s wings melted, and it’s the fault of the thing that he was so, uh, entranced by.” His voice was quiet and scratchy, barely louder than a murmur in the cold air; He had tried to phrase the words like a question, but he was unable to tilt his voice up at the end of the sentence without feeling sicker than he already did. Alejandro tilted his head, and seemingly sensing a change in demeanour, he quirked an eyebrow upwards.

“Exactly: In many people’s interpretations of the myth, Apollo is said to have purposely melted Icarus’s wings because of how high he was flying, and if you follow that interpretation, then it’s implying that one half of the relationship, is purposely going to do something that causes the other’s decent, even though it’s enabled by the other half’s inability to follow warnings.” He hummed. Noah was going to throw up . “If you think that it was essentially just because he was flying too high and not heeding his father’s warnings, then it is still implying that one half is going to do something to the other, though perhaps by accident…”

He trailed off, and blinked at him, frowning.

“...Are you okay?” He frowned, and Noah gripped the arm of his chair so hard his knuckles started to go white.

“You don’t think the fall can be interpreted romantically?” He countered, and Alejandro leaned forward. There was bile in his throat, and an empty feeling in his stomach.

“You look like you’re going to be sick-”

He was going to be sick.

“I am going to be sick, I’m sorry.”

There wasn’t time for him to look at Alejandro again before he launched himself out of his chair and through the swinging doors on the balcony. He could vaguely hear the sounds of somebody saying his name as he strode through the living room, but he disregarded it as he slammed open the door to the – thankfully empty – bathroom, slammed it closed again, keeled over, and promptly spilled his guts in the porcelain toilet.

—

After a few moments, he heard the door gently creak open, and somebody's shoes began to click over the tile. For the second time that night, a glass of water was held out towards him, and for the first time that night, a hand was placed on his shoulder, and began rubbing gentle circles over his back.

He was kneeling down next to the toilet, staring at the tiling on the floor. He was pretty much able to guess who the person rubbing his back was, and when he tilted his head up, only slightly, to see who it was, he felt his heart rise to his throat, and he had to swallow it back down.

“I’m sorry, or whatever.” He muttered, looking back down at the tiled flooring. It needed to be scrubbed; he hadn’t cleaned it properly in a while, and he felt the sudden urge to scrub it until it sparkled.

“It’s quite alright, my dear.” Alejandro murmured back, and Noah couldn’t help but let out a tired groan. “Do you think it was something you ate?”

He had been interpreting the myth wrong, he had been interpreting everything wrong and it was culminating in him losing his cool so hard that he threw up. But Jesus Christ; everything Alejandro ever said made him want to hurl, it was just lucky that when it came to a head, he actually had a bathroom near him, he supposed.

“I don’t think Owen gave us food poisoning, if that’s what you’re asking.” He chuckled, and at the relieved look on Alejandro’s face, a smile twitched onto his face.

“Thank goodness.” The other boy sighed, continuing to rub circles into his back. It was relaxing, calming, and made him feel a little bit more comfortable while sitting on the floor of the bathroom. “Truly, we were having such a wonderful conversation before, it would be a shame if he poisoned me; I was beginning to like him.”

This jolted Noah up, swiveling his head around to look at him properly; first, he was assaulted by an onslaught of dizziness, and he clutched at his head for a few seconds, but secondly, he saw a twinkle of honesty in Alejandro’s eyes, and he gaped.

“You – Alejandro Burromuerto – were starting to like Owen?... You’re kidding me, you’re lying.” He shook his head, and Alejandro began to laugh, chuckling at the astounded expression on his face. “I thought you might tolerate him, but what the fuck? You hated him!”

“I am not kidding, and while I did not find him to be my favourite contestant on the show, I was enjoying his company before. Did you know that he’s in culinary school? And he’s started learning to paint recently?”

Noah, floored , continued to stare at him.

“Yeah, I did know that, he’s one of my best friends- Hold on, he wasn’t ‘ not your favourite contestant ’ he was quite literally your least favourite contestant- oh my god- ” He rambled, gaze flickering around the bathroom, searching for an answer in the tiles. “Jesus Christ, he was low down on that list , who was your favourite contestant? It was Heather, right? I can’t believe you’re getting along with Owen -”

Alejandro’s face shifted slightly, into careful consideration as Noah continued to ramble. Eventually, he tilted his head, and looked back at him properly.

“-We spent like, hour’s in the cargo hold while you were trying to avoid him-”

“You were.”

Noah stopped.

…What? He looked back at Alejandro, and on his face, to Noah’s surprise, he looked one hundred percent serious. His eyes were twinkling under the bathroom light, and there was honesty in his gaze as he looked at him.

“...What do you mean?”

Alejandro let out a hum, tilting his head, and holding out the glass of water. He realised that he hadn’t taken it when it was offered to him, and after a few seconds, he gently took it from Alejandro’s hands. He took a sip, then used it to wash his mouth out, spitting into the toilet that he had flushed of grime only a few moments prior. and Alejandro spoke once again.

“...You were my favourite contestant.” He murmured.

Wax wings and flying, the sun is going to melt me . Noah thought, staring at him. God, this wasn’t new, Alejandro had looked at him like this before; longingly and yearningly, while on the plane, in the cargo hold, at the cafe where they met two weeks ago and in his car after going grocery shopping. He was looking at him adoringly, and Christ, he felt like he could see the world in those green eyes of his. Eyes so green they looked like a forest, like olive oil and sea glass, like grease- there are eels in the sea and that’s where i’m headed-

But he could imagine that he was looking at him with the same amount of longing, the same amount of desperate need under the light of the bathroom. In the silence, he could hear their breathing, so in sync they were almost one, and for a few moments, he thought Alejandro was going to say something – going to do something –

-Until there was a knock at the door, and the two of them whipped their heads around to see the door swing open slightly, and Gwen and Heather poking their heads through.

“...Are you alright?” Gwen raised an eyebrow at him, and Noah coughed, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, uh, definitely, just had to, y’know-” He started, waving his hands around in what he hoped was a convincing gesture. Next to him, Alejandro withdrew his hand from his back, and leaned back on the balls of his heels. “-All good, definitely.”

Gwen narrowed her eyes slightly, but nodded, and glanced down at Alejandro, and smiled.

“...Hi.” She grinned, and Alejandro flashed a smile back.

“Hello.” He replied, and Heather let out a sigh, pushing the door open more and stepping into the bathroom. Noah could hear the music still playing, but the living room was pointedly void of voices other than their own.

“Owen and Cody just left, they told us to tell you goodbye, and… what was it?” Heather spoke, glancing at Gwen, who continued for her.

“-That he started on the dishes, and that the leftovers were packed up for anyone that wants them.” She hummed, still smiling. There was something in the way she held herself, though, something that betrayed a slight discomfort.

“Right, exactly.” Heather nodded. “And neither of us know when Izzy and Eva left, but they’re not here, so, I'm not sure how you feel about that but I thought we should let you know.”

Noah rolled his eyes, and hoisted himself up off the tiles. Like a reflex, he held out his hand for Alejandro to take as help to stand up himself, and without hesitation, the other boy took it, and stood up with relative ease.

“Izzy’s a flight risk.” Noah rolled his eyes, semi a joke and semi serious at the same time. “They probably went back to Eva’s place, they never say goodbye when they leave.”

Gwen snorted, and nodded, Alejandro simply looked down at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Never?”

“Never.” He groaned, and smirked as Alejandro raised his eyebrows even more. “I don’t know, Izzy says it’s something about not saying goodbye because they’ll see you again soon? It’s weird, Eva just goes along with it, I think.”

This drew a laugh out of Alejandro, and Noah realised that he hadn’t pulled his hand away.

Is it the sun’s fault? Melting the wings because he could? Or Icarus’s for being too in love for his own good?

“That’s… strange.” Heather tilted her head, but the edge of a smirk played at her lips. “But either way, thanks for dinner, Noah, but we should get going.”

Ah, so Gwen’s invitation to say had been turned down. Next to him, he glanced up at Alejandro, and for a brief, tiny moment, he was sure that he could see a flash of sadness cross his features; but ultimately, when Alejandro looked across at him, there was disappointment tinging his eyelashes, and his lips were turned down into a frown.

“...Alright, it’s getting pretty late, isn’t it?” He hummed, smiling, and Heather nodded, spinning around and leading them out of the bathroom. Noah followed after her, still holding Alejandro’s hand as he stepped through the doorway and into the living room. It was quiet, aside from the music still flowing from the speakers. As he listened, he- “...How long has it been playing abba for?”

Gwen smiled, turning around to face him and walking backwards towards the door.

“An hour or so I think? Cody put it on a while back.”

“...Huh.” He furrowed his eyebrows; so that was what was playing before. How he hadn’t been able to recognise it, he had no idea.

Noah watched as Heather slid her shoes back onto her feet, and after a few moments, he felt Alejandro squeeze his hand before pulling away, and leaning down to his own shoes. They looked fancy, shiny and expensive in comparison to the assortment of other shoes at the door. To Noah’s not-quite-surprise, Izzy’s sandals were sitting by Gwen’s boots, and he shook his head with a sigh. Eva’s shoes were gone, but he had thought she would at least have the decency to take Izzy's shoes with her, despite how determined to leave the other girl had been.

Eventually, after a few moments, Alejandro straightened up, and Heather began to twist the door handle, opening it slowly and glancing back at the two of them; Gwen still with a warm, tipsy smile on her face, and Noah with his arms crossed, head tilted and content.

“Thank you again for the invite.” She hummed, and turned to properly face Gwen. To his surprise, she let out a sigh, and Gwen’s smile twitched downwards slightly. “...Text her, Gwen, don't be an ass about it. Have a good night, both of you.”

And she slipped out the door, into the hallway and out of Noah’s line of sight. Gwen let out quite possibly the smallest, saddest sounding sigh known to man, and before he could turn to her in surprise and ask if she was okay, Alajndro gently clapped his hands together, and smiled.

“Yes, thank you both for the invitation, I truly had a wonderful time.” He grinned, and stepped forward to press a quick kiss to Gwen’s cheek, before turning to look at him.

Okay, when did they get that close- Noah blinked, gaze flicking between the two of them as Gwen grinned, spun around, and went to lie down on Noah’s couch. In front of him, Alejandro tilted his head to the side and blinked at him so fondly Noah thought he might keel over.

“...It means a lot that you invited me.” He murmured, and Noah’s eyes widened slightly. “Truly, any opportunity to see you is one that I'll take, and the fact that you enjoy my company enough to invite me to dinner is wonderful.”

Noah’s mouth went dry; Jesus, he wanted to kiss him.

“...Come to the next one, then.” He breathed, and Alejandro’s lips twitched. “Seriously, I- I want you to come, I love your company.”

Alejandro, for a moment, didn’t move, but then he reached for Noah’s hand, pulled it up to his lips, and kissed his knuckles .

“I eagerly await the invitation.” He mused, and Noah could feel his face warm into what he assumed was a brilliant shade of red as Alejandro pulled away, spinning around and stepping towards the door. “Have a wonderful night, Noah.”

And like Heather, he stepped out into the hallway, and closed the door behind him with a gentle ‘click’.

Noah didn’t know what to do, so he spun around, his feet almost glued to the floor, and looked at Gwen. There was a delighted, surprised grin on her face, and she sat up from where she was lying down, her phone in her hands as she held back a giggle.

“... Dude .” She grinned, and suddenly, Noah found that he could move again, so he took a few steps forward and dropped down onto the couch next to her, face first in the cushions. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m so fucked.” He groaned, voice muffled by the couch cushions. “What the fuck was that?!”

“That-” Gwen started, no longer able to hold in her laughter as she spoke. “-Was the most uncalled for thing I've seen in months- Jesus Christ, you’re so whipped .”

Noah couldn’t do anything but groan. The couch smelled vaguely like cigarette smoke and a strange combination of perfume and cologne; It always did, after dinner at his place. Around him, the sound of Abba’s ‘The winner takes it all’ spun around the room, and directly next to him, Gwen’s giggling was interrupted by vague echoes of the lyrics, and the occasional sounding out of a word. He raised his head to see what she was doing, and he raised an eyebrow when he realised that she was… texting somebody.

“...Who’re you texting?” He hummed, dropping his head back into the couch cushions momentarily, before jolting right back up again when she answered.

“...Courtney.” She hummed, and in one swift motion, Noah was sitting up straight, staring at her incredulously.

“Seriously? Oh my god-”

“What?” She grinned, flicking her gaze towards him slightly before looking back down at her phone. “Heather told me she was worried, and, y’know, she apologised -”

Noah groaned, and leaned backwards so far that he was once again lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The roof, he always thought, was the most boring part of his house. The walls were covered with art, the floors were dark and covered with rugs, and the furniture was draped in fabrics, pillows or surfaces for trinkets.

But the roof? The roof was empty; He couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips.

He was plummeting, about to drown in the Icarian sea.

Chapter Text

Noah doesn’t dream very often.

That’s probably because of his problematic sleep schedule, his inability to commit to a regular bedtime and the inconsistent way he takes his medication. If anything, when he sleeps his head is filled with incoherent emotion; sometimes it’s adrenaline, and he wakes up at four in the morning, breathing heavily and clutching at the sheets in a panic. Sometimes it’s dread, filling his bones for hours after he gets ready in the morning, and sometimes it’s love, which leaves him content, humming to himself on his way to work.

But he can't remember having a true, proper, coherent-images dream in months.

Until tonight.

Tonight, when Noah finally drifts off, Abba still playing through the speakers and his face pressed into the couch cushions, he dreams, and he dreams vividly .

—

When he wakes, it’s with a start, an almost-yelp as images of dinner, drowning doves and comically-large spiders continue to swirl around his brain as he raises a hand to rub at his temples.

His head fucking hurt .

“Mother fucker -” He muttered, squinting his eyes as he stared around the living room. The lights were on, and from the living room he could hear a faint humming sound as his ears adjusted to the borderline-hash wake-up. Through the windows, he could hear the sound of light traffic, and could feel the gentle caress of the breeze on his skin. He suddenly realised that he felt very warm, like he had somehow put on more layers of clothing in his sleep.

To his surprise, the limited sections of apartment he could see from where he sat were relatively clean , or at least, more-so than they usually were after dinner with Izzy.

“...Who the fuck cleaned up my apartment?” He blinked, slowly hoisting himself up from the couch and glancing around, before he spun around at the sound of an amused laugh, and the sizzling of a pan.

“Heather and I did.” Gwen hummed, pushing a mug of… something across the kitchen counter towards him, and placing her hands on her hips. “You and Alejandro spent a while on the balcony and then a while in the bathroom, so… I figured doing a little sweeping would help you out in the morning.”

She was wearing the same clothes as she had been the night before, despite the several outfit changes she knew were kept in Noah’s dresser, and her hair was messy, frazzled and unkempt due to what he assumed was a night of sleeping on the couch beside him. Despite that, however, her face was free of makeup, and she looked ten times more well-rested than he felt.

…Ugh, the balcony, the bathroom . The simple thought of them made Noah want to drown in the throw blankets littering the couches. Waking up was like a blissful reprieve from the memories of them, a reprieve from the way Alejandro’s eyes glittered every time he blinked, but Christ, it hadn’t even been two minutes and he was already thinking about him again.

…He could feel his skin start to itch.

“You’re a lifesaver.” He groaned, and shuffled across the floor to hoist himself into a stool in front of the bench. With a quick inspection, he concluded that the mug Gwen pushed towards him was, in fact, coffee, and he swirled it around with a teaspoon he grabbed from what he assumed was the mug Gwen was using. When she watched him walk over, smiling contentedly and spinning back around to face the stove, Noah narrowed his eyes. “...What’re you making?”

Gwen glanced at him again, and picked up the spatula that was lying next to the stovetop.

“Pancakes.” She hummed, using the spatula to flip what Noah now realised was a pancake over in the pan. “I was hungry, wanted something sweet-ish, y'know? Izzy ate all of my cake yesterday so I didn’t get any, the asshole…”

Noah snorted, but he tilted his head in vague confusion. She looked so… happy, and while that was always something that Noah hoped for, she had sounded so sad the night before when Heather left, and with such a dramatic switch up… This had to have something to do with the person she had been texting when Noah crashed the night before.

…But they had just woken up – or at least he had just woken up –, he could leave the detective work until after Gwen had given him a pancake or two.

“She left her sandals here, too.” He sighed, and it was Gwen’s turn to snort. “Seriously, eats all the cake and leaves her shoes when she runs off? Eva needs to put her on a leash or something.”

“Amen.” She grinned, and he watched hungrily as Gwen slid the pancake onto a pile of several other pancakes sitting on the counter. Noticing him eying them, Gwen pushed the plate forward, and reached into an open cabinet to grab an empty plate, also sliding that towards him. “Take as many as you want, you… you kind of look like you need it, jesus. Do you have any lemons?”

Noah scoffed, slid a pancake onto the empty plate and blinked up at Gwen with mock-offence.

“What do you mean ‘ you look like you need it ’? I just woke up after dinner with a bunch of crazy people, the demon queen, and the guy who pushed me out of a plane ; you cannot blame me for the way I look right now.” He scowled, and poked at the pancake with his pointer finger. The phrase ‘the guy who pushed me out of a plane’ sent a jolt up his spine, and he couldn’t help the way his fingers moved to scratch at his collarbones. Beneath his shirt, they started to burn. “In the fridge, could you pass me the sugar? And why don’t you look like you’ve been put through the ringer?”

“I’m well rested .” She hummed, rummaging through the cupboards for the white sugar, before she pushed it to him and opened the fridge door. “No, I just didn’t throw up twenty minutes before I fell asleep.”

“But why don’t you have a hangover or something?” He groaned. In front of him, Gwen pulled a lemon out of the fridge, and moved to cut it easily in half with one of the sharper knives he kept in the kitchen. He watched as she squeezed it over the pancake he had pushed onto his plate, and gently, she pulled a teaspoon out of the cutlery draw, and sprinkled a spoonful of white sugar over the top of it. A smile twitched at the corner of his otherwise-miserable expression, and Gwen grinned, smug, before she turned back to the stove.

“I don’t know, maybe my night was just so good that I warded the hangover away.” She hummed, and poured another ladle of batter onto the pan. It made a comforting sizzling noise; the batter sliding across the buttered surface and settling, cooking.

Noah rolled his eyes, and tore off a section of the pancake with his fingers.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” He snorted, popping the piece in his mouth. The lemon and sugar blended together and melted on his tongue. When he swallowed, he blinked, and raised his eyebrows. “What made your night so good, anyway?”

Gwen simply shrugged, and hummed noncommittally as she watched the pan.

Alright, then. Since she wasn’t giving him a straight answer, and since she had already given him a pancake, that meant that it was time for a little detective work.

“Got anything to do with, I don’t know, just throwing it out there … Courtney, maybe?”

At the other girl's name, Gwen’s face flushed a shade of red akin to the wine they were drinking yesterday, and Noah’s fingers twitched in both satisfaction and contempt. On one hand, he had figured it out instantly, but on the other hand, he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Courtney at this point in time.

If he were put in Gwen’s situation, he would simply never speak to her again, especially considering the way that Heather was looking at her yesterday; if somebody looked at him like that, then there would be nobody else in the world worth his time. But then again, maybe she hadn’t noticed her staring, or maybe, this was something that was just fundamentally different about them.

Or, a ‘maybe’ that bounced around the back of his head like a truth he hadn’t quite figured out yet; maybe there was something else about this situation he wasn't quite privy to.

“Maybe a little bit.” She hummed, and Noah leaned forward to get a better look at her. She used the spatula to flip the pancake over, and pointedly refused to meet his eyes.

“ Gwen .” He replied, popping another piece of pancake in his mouth. He tried to keep his voice even, a hint of playful-dramatism, but ultimately free from the negative bias floating around his subconscious. “You were texting her for, what, an hour last night? What’d she say ?”

It took her a moment to respond, and in that moment a thought crossed Noah’s mind. Maybe Gwen was so awake right now because she hadn’t slept at all? He wouldn’t put it past her, considering her regular usage of melatonin, harder sedatives, and overall lack of desire to sleep in the first place, but still, she was so jovial and so put-together that he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Well, she apologised.” She mused, and Noah nodded. He would be more concerned if she didn’t. “And, well, she asked about getting coffee on Thursday, y’know, to talk some stuff out.”

That made Noah pause.

“...Did she now.” He muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. He had tried to phrase his words like a question, a genuinely curious, interested question, but he didn’t quite manage to do so as he swirled the cup around in his hand. “That sounds… fun.”

Gwen turned to face him. Her expression was a mix between confusion and its previous contentment, but as her eyes flicked across his features and she tilted her head, a tiny flicker of realisation danced across her face, and she placed her hands on her hips.

“You’re…not the biggest fan of Courtney.” She concluded, and raised an eyebrow.

Noah hesitated, freezing like a deer in headlights.

…She wouldn’t be mad if he said that he wasn’t right? Honestly, he didn’t dislike Courtney, per say, he just- Okay, his thoughts were jumbling, and under Gwen’s gaze he wasn’t entirely sure what to think many more.

But he remembered, almost jarringly, what Gwen had told him last monday when they were huddled up on the couch, freshly showered and exhausted.

“...It’s not that I'm not her biggest fan.” He sighed, poking at the pancake with his pointer finger. “I just think you should be careful, y'know? You've already seen the worst side of her, and it’s been directed at you. You never know, maybe she’s still harbouring those feelings; You were fucking crushed last week, and, uh-”

Suddenly, the confusion on Gwen’s face cracked into a grin, and she pointed the spatula at him with a snort.

“Those are my lines, you’re spouting the poem to the poet.” She blinked, taking a step forward and leaning against the kitchen bench. She was grinning, and Noah couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Stop with the metaphors, I'm serious. ” He groaned, and Gwen seemed unable to hold in a chuckle. She turned around again to face the stove, sliding the pancake onto the spatula, and in turn, sliding the pancake onto the plate with the rest of them. “I promised that I'd be careful with Alejandro, it’s your turn to promise that you’ll be careful with Courtney.”

Gwen pursed her lips, the smile momentarily disappearing as she thought.

She had no reason to say no, that she wouldn’t be careful with Courtney, but it almost looked like she was going to say no anyway.

“...Alright, I promise.” She eventually hummed, and Noah breathed a sigh. There were a few moments of silence between them as Noah took another bite of his pancake, and Gwen poured the remainder of the batter on the pan. It was peaceful, and he could hear the sound of cars rushing past the windows, until Gwen spoke again. 

“There’s this saying in French, y’know; jamais deux sans trois. ”

Noah looked up.

“...What does it mean?” He hummed, a questioning tilt at the end of his words.

It felt a little bit like the air had shifted; the warm, jovial morning-atmosphere of the room was waning, giving way to a vague sense of dread and a slight chill he didn’t know the origin of. Gwen hesitated for a moment.

“It means something along the lines of, uh, ‘never twice without a third time.’, I think.” She mused, and Noah watched as she tilted her head in confusion. “I’m not sure why I remembered that.”

Never twice without a third time… What’s already happened twice?

“Huh.” Noah hummed, and didn’t bother to hide the grin making its way onto his face as the pancake started to smoke on the pan. “Gwen, the-”

Gwen jolted, and spun around to face the stove once more, letting out a vague shriek as she hurriedly flipped the final pancake over in the pan. The underside was black, charred, and burnt enough for the two of them to start giggling as they stared at it.

“Okay, I hadn’t burnt any before you woke up.” She grinned, shaking her head with comical disappointment. “This is your fault!”

“ My fault?” He rolled his eyes, grinning back at her. “You were the one not paying attention, jesus .”

Gwen only laughed, turning off the stove and spinning around the counter, coming to a stop next to him and sliding onto the other stool. The happy, lighthearted expression was once again resting upon her face, and his stomach filled with a warm, content feeling at the sight of it.

…But unluckily, the content feeling didn’t spread around the rest of his bones. His back was itching, and the sensation of light buzzing, the type of sensation you get in your knees when you’ve been sitting around too long, was spreading around his torso. It didn’t hurt, not yet, but rolled his shoulders back and sucked in a breath

It felt a little bit like an omen.

—

It wasn’t until Gwen was pulling her shoes over her socks that Noah asked her.

He had been thinking about it all morning, through the lazy sweeping of the floor and the tired scrubbing of the dishes; the thought of it had plagued his mind and itched his skin while he had showered, his head running with thoughts of drowning and salt as the water fell on his skin and ran through his hair. He hadn’t really stopped thinking about it, but it wasn’t until Gwen was about to leave that he managed to gather the coherent words to ask her about it.

“...So, you know, Icarus?” He hummed, as nonchalantly as he could despite the swirling feeling in his stomach and the itch in his skin. “Like, the myth?”

Gwen hummed, glancing up and hopping slightly on one foot before she steadied.

“Yeah, ‘course I know Icarus.” She raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips as she looked at him. She had brushed her hair, and re-done her eyeliner. “Why?”

“Alejandro and I were talking about it, or, uh, him I guess, last night.” He shrugged, placing his hands on his hips as nonchalantly as he could manage. “And since there are so many interpretations of it I was wondering how, er, you interpret it.”

This made Gwen’s eyebrows raise even further, and a glint entered her eyes, one that made Noah shake his head.

“-And before you ask; don’t, I don’t want to talk about it. Just… humour me.” He said firmly, a hint of vague amusement as Gwen grinned.

“I wasn’t going to.” She smiled, an obvious lie if there ever was one. “But sure, I’ll humour you. I think Icarus fell because he didn’t heed the warnings given by the people who knew better than him, but I also think it was because there was something so mesmerising, so awe-inspiring about the sun that he couldn’t help it.”

Noah raised an eyebrow as she straightened up, and dusted her hands on her skirt. For a moment she didn’t say anything else, but then, after a thought seemed to pop into her head, she continued.

“...It’s like, when the sunset’s pretty you can’t help but look at it, or when you’re hiking and the view from the top of the mountain’s so beautiful that it makes you believe in the christian god for just a moment; I think it was like that, y’know? He was locked away for the majority of his life with only his father to keep him company, so, like, it was his first time seeing the sun and the sea, and- well, I think I would’ve done the same.”

Then she stopped, ran a hand through her hair, pulled out her phone, and grinned.

“Oh, yeah, and Bridgette texted me about this movie night they’re having; Apparently Justin got ahold of an advanced copy of this movie everyone wants to see as part of his payment for a modelling job, and they’re making it a reunion.” She grinned, holding out her phone as he stared at her, still thinking about what she had said only moments prior. “She said she texted you, but she told me to, uh, remind you.”

When the view from the top of the mountain’s so beautiful that it makes you believe in the christian god for just a moment… Jesus Christ, what a line. It was all Noah could do to shake his head, blink, and look back at Gwen, exhausted.

“...You good, Noah?” She hummed, and Noah nodded.

“Yeah, Jesus, I just need a panadol or something.” He hummed, running a hand down his face and managing a grin. Gwen seemed to hesitate a little bit, before she stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

Gwen wasn’t the most physically affectionate friend that he had, that award definitely went to Izzy, but there was something about her hugs that never failed to calm Noah down, just a little bit. She smelled like cherry perfume, one that Noah remembered going out to buy with her, and her hair, as it rested against his cheek, was soft, and freshly brushed.

Something about the touch seemed to ease the feeling in his skin for a moment, a grant of reprieve from the scratching and the burning he could feel beneath his flesh.

For almost a second, he didn’t quite know what to do, but quickly, he wrapped his arms around her in turn and squeezed. This managed to elicit a laugh from her, and when she pulled away, she rested her hands on Noah’s shoulders, and tilted her head. Noah just snorted, and grinned at her.

“What was that for?” He smiled, and Gwen shrugged, grinning back at him before pulling away, shouldering her bag, and turning the door handle.

“I don’t know.” She replied. “You looked like you needed a hug. Whatever, see you later, Noah, reply to Bridgette’s text.”

Noah smiled, and watched as Gwen spun out the door, the sound of her footsteps clacking down the hallway outside. He let out a sigh, and pulled out his phone.

Gwen was right, there was a text from Bridgette waiting for him.

Bridgette - 9:32am

Heyyy Noah

We’re having a reunion on sat 2 weeks from now, @ 7pm

Justin’s getting a copy of that one movie, the rom com that’s coming out in like a month because he was in the background for this modelling scene

So we were thinking of watching it all together

Lmk if u can make it1!!

It’s cool if not tho because ur going to the gemmies on the tuesday right??

Good luck with those!!

Geoff says he hopes u loose

Get back to me :)))

This made Noah snort more, but at the mention of the Gemmies, his skin sparked, and he rolled his shoulders back in discomfort.

It’ll be fine; he’ll go to the movies, he’ll talk to his friends, and then he’ll go to the Gemmies.

It’ll be fine.

—

What had already happened twice?

He had been thinking about the phrase for the past twenty-four hours, and sitting at his desk, waiting tiredly for Cris and Chef to return from whatever errand they hadn’t brought him along for, there were a myriad things he had managed to conjure up.

For one, Geoff and Bridgette had broken up twice, but he was pretty sure he had missed a few chapters, and his current intel might have been wrong. This was the second time Izzy had left her shoes at his apartment after dinner, but that didn’t seem notable enough to care about. Gwen-

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of keys jangling, loud footsteps, a hand in his hair and a box being dropped onto the desk in front of him.

…Total Drama had already won two Gemmies, and they were on track to win a third.

He hadn’t stopped itching since he woke up two days ago, and with a start, he could feel his skin burning.

“What’s up, little dude.” Chris grinned, sitting himself down in a rolling chair that most definitely was not his own. “We’ve got some news.”

“Oh yeah?” Noah hummed, glancing up at him. Chris’s eyes were warm, excited and frantically glancing around the office floor. He was cracking his knuckle, and also attempting to tug at his sleeves at the same time. He looked like he was about to burst. From his experience as Chris’s personal assistant, Noah knew that he was only ever like this when he had to share something extremely important, something exciting, and something he was very proud of.

Chef’s expression was more neutral, but he could still see the smile playing on his expression as he ruffled Noah’s hair, and moved to place the bags in his hands down at his desk.

“Well, first, we bought you brownies.” The host hummed, and at a wave of his hand, Noah looked down at the box that had been dropped in front of him. Sure enough, through the small plastic window at the front, he could see an assortment of eccentrically decorated brownies. “They’re from this bakery down by the management offices, just opened, they’re delicious.”

They looked relatively edible, so he was pretty sure Chris wasn’t trying to poison him.

“...Thanks?” He spoke, and the grin on Chris’s face only grew as he raised an eyebrow. “...You look like you’re about to kill someone, or like, explode .”

“That’s because we have news .” Chris grinned, clapping his hands together. “Like news that’s important .”

Noah just raised his eyebrows even more, an incredulous look spreading across his face as he watched Chris smile.

“What’s the news, then?” He tilted his head, and added, jokingly. “Am I finally getting fired or something?”

“I wouldn’t be this excited if you were getting fired, dude.” He snorted, and then, with a suddenly much-more-serious look in his eyes, leaned forward. “It’s about the Gemmies.”

“...Okay, and?”

Something in Noah’s stomach dropped. While he hadn’t worked on the show, or even really cared much about it in the first place, he knew how much it meant to Chris, Chef, and the rest of his coworkers. Had something happened with the nominations? Were they nominated by mistake? Was there some kind of issue he didn’t anticipate?

He reached up subconsciously to scratch at his collarbones, relishing in the feeling of his nails scraping over his skin.

“And…” Chris began, pausing for what he could only assume was dramatic effect. “...We don’t have to pay for our own plane tickets over there.”

… Seriously?

“...Is that it? Jesus Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack -” Noah breathed, and leaned back in his chair even more. The simple idea that something was wrong had made him so stressed out in those few moments that he didn’t know how to react, but in reality, the news was that he didn’t have to pay for his own plane ticket? Hold on, he had to pay for his own plane ticket in the first place ? “Wait- I had to pay for my own-”

Chris waved a hand in front of his face, nonchalant and still grinning.

“I was gonna pay for your ticket, kid, don’t worry about it, but now- Now I don’t have to pay for anyone’s ticket! Not mine, not yours- and that’s not all.” He grinned, prompting Noah to respond.

“...Not all?” He said, sceptically, and Chris nodded.

“They’re flying us out to Vancouver in business class, because technically we’re going on business, and-” He pointed at Noah, and warily, Noah pointed his own finger at himself. “-And you , kid, get to bring a plus one.”

… What ?

People only ever got to bring plus-ones to events like these when they were considered at least some-what important, and seriously, as Chris’s personal assistant, somebody who didn’t even work on the show they were nominated for, he didn’t really see how he fit that bill.

…Actually, people only ever got plus one’s when they were important, or when it would be considered ‘good content’ for them to bring somebody; and usually, that somebody was always pre-determined. So Noah took a few moments to examine Chris’s expression. His eyes were glittering with something akin to glee, and his smile was easy, almost-cunning. He looked like he was hiding something.

“A plus one?” Noah raised an eyebrow, and Chris nodded, grinning. “...What’s the catch, geezer?”

Chris raised an eyebrow, blinking in surprise as behind him, Chef let out a snort and kicked his legs up onto his desk.

“The kid’s figured you out already.” He laughed, and Chris spun around, shooting him what Noah could only assume was a glare. So he was right , there was something about this that Chris was hiding, something that he thought he wouldn’t like… truthfully, he didn’t quite like the idea of a plus-one in the first place, considering the only people he would want to bring wouldn’t want to go with him at all, but as Chef laughed, he waved a hand around in the air and spoke again. “The catch is that it has to be another old Total Drama contestant, and preferably one that played some kind of pivotal role in the show.”

“ C’mon , I wasn’t gonna tell him-” Chris sighed, spinning back around, and rolling his eyes with a frown. “Yeah, little dude, it’s gotta be a contestant.”

Noah blinked… That wasn’t as bad as he was thinking, but it did raise a bit of an issue…

“Jesus Christ, okay.” He groaned, and reached up to rub at his temples, scrunching his eyes shut. “Literally nobody is going to want to come with me to this.”

Chris shrugged, and leaned over to pat him gently on the knee with a sympathetic glance.

“We figured you would take Gwen or something. She’s like your best friend and she was an important part of all three seasons.” He hummed, and Noah looked up at him, the most incredulous look on his face that he could possibly muster.

“Are you kidding? After the shit you pulled on her during Revenge of the Island? No way .” He scowled, and Chris glanced back to Chef, a flash of guilt dancing across his face as he looked at the man behind him, seemingly for some kind of reassurance. “I think she’d rather die, like, genuinely.”

At this, Chef only shrugged, and turned to look at his laptop, which he had pulled from his bag while Noah wasn’t paying attention. He looked like he cared less than Chris did, but Noah knew he was probably thinking more sensibly than him, and therefore, probably knew that nobody sane would be willing to accompany him.

Nobody sane, huh?... He probably shouldn’t bring Izzy, it would be a hassle for everybody involved, and she’d probably be bored anyway.

“You don’t have to bring anybody, kid, the network’s just givin’ you the option seeing as Chris and I won’t be bringing anyone.” Chef drawled, and Noah let out a sigh. Chef was right, he didn’t have to bring anybody, but… he had to admit that having a friend come along would probably make the awards show a little bit more fun, and a little bit easier to get through.

So he only groaned, and turned to the box of brownies in front of him. Through his peripheral vision, he watched Chris glance at him, open his mouth as if to say something, and then shake his head while simultaneously rising from his chair. He looked concerned, worried, even, as he spun around on his heel and cleared his throat.

“The Gemmies are in two weeks, so we get that isn’t a lot of time, but your suits are on rush-order and you can do whatever you want, alright?” Chris hummed, flashing him a grin before he turned around again and began to walk in the direction of the elevator.

“...Okay.” He groaned, and watched as he sauntered away, leaving him and Chef sitting at their desks. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but Chef didn’t seem to care very much, so it didn’t seem like anything he needed to pay much attention to. That being said, he was nosey, so he turned to Chef and nodded towards Chris’s disappearing figure. “Where’s he going?”

“Front desk, Olive said they’ve got a package for him.” He raised an eyebrow, and at the sight of Noah’s concerned expression, more over the whole plus-one situation than Chris up and leaving, he smiled. It was genuine, reassuring, one of those smiles Noah didn’t know he was capable of until he had been working for him for a few months. “You alright?”

Noah paused for a few seconds, examining Chef’s expression and listening to the sounds of the office around them. It was quiet, somehow tired and lazy despite the early hour; Actually, he supposed that it was always kind of like this, the only exceptions being when they were coming up on the airing of a new episode, or when somebody was causing a completely avoidable ruckus. 

It was comforting, much like Chef’s smile.

…A thought struck him. When he went suit shopping with Chris what felt like weeks ago, the host had mentioned that Chef had previously had both the Iliad and the Odyssey sitting on his desk at work; That meant, most likely, that he’s read them , and probably, had some kind of sound understanding of Greek mythology. Hopefully, enough that meant…

So Noah leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk and dropping his head onto them like a pillow; he was still looking at Chef, however, who’s smile morphed into a frown of concern at the action.

“...Have you read the Metamorphoses, like, Ovid?” He muttered, dropping his gaze to the desk and staring across at a pen that was lying in front of his keyboard. It was blue, and he wasn’t entirely sure what it was doing there, considering it didn’t look like one of his own.

Chef let out a hum of consideration, and when he spoke, Noah snapped his eyes up again.

“Yeah, I have.” He scratched the back of his neck in thought, and cast his eyes across the office. “A while ago, but yeah. Why?”

“...I don’t know.” Noah spoke, tapping rapidly on the table. Chef had read Metamorphoses, and he could feel his skin start to burn. “I was having a conversation with Gwen yesterday, and we were talking about Icarus, y’know, the guy that flew too close to the sun and then fell into the sea?”

Chef nodded, and Noah continued.

“Well, we were talking about how people interpret that specific part of the story and since you seem vaguely familiar with, uh, greek mythos-” He paused, and Chef raised an eyebrow. “-I was wondering how you interpret it.”

The moment he finished, he reached up to scratch at the skin on his shoulders. He could feel the line’s of scarring stretching across his back and could feel the way they seemed to dig into his skin until they started to ache. But he watched as Chef chewed on the inside of his cheek for a few moments, until finally, he spoke again.

“Well, Chris thinks it’s an ambition thing.” He mused, glancing towards the elevator as if on instinct, and Noah raised a dis-believing eyebrow. At the sight of this, Chef let out a snort, and shook his head at him fondly. “He might not read a lot but he’s damn near as smart as either of us, kid, he knows who Icarus is.”

This made Noah smile, and he let out a weak snort as Chef stared towards the direction Chris had disappeared into. After a moment, Chef turned to look at him again, and he shrugged.

“...But I think that it was Icarus's inability to follow instructions. He knew what the sun would do if he flew too close, but he didn’t fuckin’ listen when Daedalus told him; It was teenage insolence.”

…Huh.

“Not a metaphor kind of guy?” He joked, but there was a tightness in his voice and a shake in his tone that he wasn’t able to conceal; Chef furrowed his eyebrows, tilted his head and leaned forward.

“I prefer to think of it in literal terms.” He frowned. There was a hint of concern in his voice and it was all Noah could do to bury his face in his arms. “You alright, kid?”

Gwen thought it was adoration, awe, love, even; Chef thought it was teenage insolence, and Chris, though Chef hadn’t elaborated, thought it was ambition. He- well, Noah wasn’t entirely sure what he thought. Even though they hadn’t been asked in the same context as Alejandro, they all thought that the fall of Icarus was for different reasons, reasons that were spinning around Noah’s head so fast he was getting dizzy.

His entire body hurt, his head was spinning, he-

He was at work.

He raised his head, and to his surprise, Chef was standing up, his eyebrows furrowed in concern and he looked like he was texting somebody, as he was tapping wildly at his phone screen. From the way his eyes were glancing between him and his phone, the text was probably about him, and he was probably texting- This shot another jolt of electricity up his spine, and he stood from his desk hurriedly.

“I’m fine! I’m alright, I’m all good, you don’t- Chris’ll just get nervous if you tell him something’s wrong with me, he won’t get any work done-”

What was he supposed to say, that he was getting so anxious about whatever he had going on with Alejandro that it was making him sick? Christ, he didn’t even know why he was anxious, he didn’t even know what he wanted when it came to Alejandro.

“-Dude, I’m serious, you don’t need to text him.” He spoke, almost pleadingly, towards Chef. For a few moments, Chef stared down at his phone, before slowly, much to Noah’s relief, he pocketed it again and let out a sigh.

“...You fit to keep working today?” He frowned, and Noah nodded, trying to revert back to his typical feigned indifference. He didn’t think he did a very good job, but it was enough for Chef to simply shake his head, concerned, and ruffle his hair as he walked past. “You have unlimited sick leave, kid, take it when you need it.”

“I don’t need it.” He reassured, and Chef simply rolled his eyes as he moved to walk in the direction Chris disappeared in. “Not today.”

“Well if you do, give us a shout.” Chef replied, and Noah let out a sigh.

He didn’t need it, at least not right now. When Chef had put his hand on his head, the burning in his skin eased, but the moment he started walking away, it returned again, almost full-force despite the fact that it had been gone mere seconds ago.

Christ , it hurt, he must be coming down with something; maybe Owen did give him food poisoning.

The thought made his lips twitch upwards, but as he watched Chef disappear into the elevator, he dropped back into the chair and tilted his head upwards to the ceiling. His thoughts were so jumbled that he could barely make any out, so he simply sighed, and let out a hum of discomfort.

“I just need a better night of sleep, and maybe a bath, then this’ll be easier…” He muttered, and leaned forward, wincing with the effort and grabbing his computer mouse with a badly-disguised grimace.

A foolproof plan; It’ll be fine .

—

As it turns out, it wasn’t fine.

He managed to get through another two and a half days of work; grimacing through until the middle of Thursday when a text from Alejandro sent him stumbling to the nearest bathroom.

He had scratched his skin almost raw, rolling his shoulders and wincing in pain every time he had to move more than an inch at a time. Beneath his skin, his muscles ached and he could feel his bones cracking every time he walked up and down the stairs; despite his borderline-violent discomfort, he hadn’t taken the elevator once, for the simple reason of it making him feel like throwing up every time he looked at it.

He didn’t know why this was happening to him this week in particular, why his skin felt like it was on fire and why there was constant bile in his throat, but he knew that every mention of ‘Total Drama’ was bringing him closer to losing it, and he knew that it was bad-fucking-timing.

…Because Christ, the Gemmies were in a week and a half, there was the cast-reunion three days before that and he had been talking to Alejandro over the phone practically daily for the last week; something that seemed to be getting more detrimental than positive.

(On Tuesday, Noah had dropped a glass onto the kitchen tiles at the sound of Alejandro’s laugh; He had told a joke, and the sound, melodious and warm, had subconsciously caused him to lose his grip on it, sending it smashing to the floor. The shards had gone everywhere, and he was pretty sure there was a piece or two still wedged into his skin. The day before, the warmth in Alejandro’s voice had sent so many shivers up his spine that the burning sensation on his skin that they caused made it hard to breathe.

It had felt like his lungs were collapsing, that the electric-eel scars were beginning to eat him from the inside out.)

What the fuck had changed? At the beginning of dinner only five days ago, Alejandro’s simple presence had made him feel so much more at ease, but now…? Now it was like a switch had flipped; their conversation about Greek mythos turning the light off and sending him floundering in the dark like a chicken without a head.

…It was that fucking Icarus metaphor, it was eating him alive.

But ultimately, he was surviving as best as he could; declining outings with Chris and Chef (Much to their concern, he hadn’t yet noticed.), making the interns fetch coffee instead of him, and altogether, attempting to lay as low as he possibly could while whatever he was going through , physical or psychological, passed over him.

That was, until 12:17 pm on Thursday, when after a few hours of typing away at his laptop, he finally looked down at his phone for the first time since breakfast.

He had been scratching at his skin for the better part of the day, and he could see the redness on every exposed piece of flesh not covered by his clothing. His head was spinning, probably because he had been too distracted that morning to make or eat any breakfast, and he was gritting his teeth, determined, insistent on getting to the end of the day – he had taken so many days off already recently, and despite popular belief, he actually kind of enjoyed his job, and he wanted to keep it. – so that he could sleep .

His entire body was warm, sore and stiff from hours of scratching and sitting, but when he picked up his phone, he froze, staring down at the screen with tired, wide eyes. Sitting there, among a myriad of other notifications, was a text message from Alejandro, reading:

Alejandro - 12:27 pm

Good afternoon, my dear Noah :) 

Are you still available for tonight? How is work going?

Alejandro had texted him something very similar the last two days, confirmations of their plans and an excuse to talk to him in the middle of the day jumbled into one. Noah had responded to those messages with a strange mix of fondness, excitement, and dread; a combination that rendered him nauseous in the face of the rest of the day, but giddy as well, excited for the phone call despite the anxiety it was causing him.

So no, it wasn’t a ludicrous message or anything, in fact, he probably should’ve expected it, considering the pattern that was emerging in their conversations… but he had been listening to people talk about Total Drama all day, he had been hearing the sound of the elevator going up and down since nine in the morning, and the only things his mind could conjure up while looking at the text were three words;

Eel, falling, Icarus.

And they were enough to send him stumbling in the direction of the nearest bathroom, clasping his hand over his mouth, slamming open the door and spilling his guts into one of the office toilets; throwing up for the second time in the last week.

…He was starting to think that maybe he did have something.

“ Jesus Christ .” he groaned, his knees hitting the floor and sending a shudder through his bones like an earthquake through a set of tectonic plates. “I thought- god- I thought it was the wine or something last time, but-”

He was interrupted by a coughing fit, and had to lean over the toilet once again, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to get it out of the way.

It was just his luck , seriously, that he was kneeling on the floor of the grimy office bathroom. The grooves in the tiles dug into his knees, and he could feel the mortar scraping his skin the longer he sat; the physical tiles were gross, discoloured from years of bleach treatment and a myriad of office shoes walking across them every day.

It was embarrassing , and through his coughing, he heard the door swing open behind him. He had half a mind that he would turn around and come face to face with Alejandro again, just like he had last time he threw up; the thought made a chill go down his spine, and he let out one, final cough before he slowly spun around, and looked up to see Chris McLean staring down at him.

Great; he let out a sigh, and opened his mouth to speak, but Chris simply shook his head and raised an eyebrow, sticking out a hand to help him up.

“Gross, little dude.” He sighed, and Noah shut his mouth with a frown, shakily accepting the hand and heaving himself to his feet. The touch sent a jolt up his skin, a spark of electricity through his bones and joints; he shuddered. Chris looked… worried, and Noah already knew what he was going to say before he said it. “I’m gonna drive you home, ‘kay?”

Noah once again opened his mouth to respond, but through the spinning in his head, the tightness in his stomach and the burning of his skin, he didn’t have it in him to refuse.

—

In what seemed to be about seven minutes, he was pushed out of the office, into the parking lot, and pulled into the passenger seat of his car. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything but lean his head up against the window, and stare tiredly out at the passing cars as Chris pulled out of the parking lot; It was cool, and it eased the pain in his head, if only mildly.

Next to him in the driver's seat, Chris was tapping gently on the steering wheel as he watched the road before them… Come to think of it, Noah couldn’t recall a time where he’s ever actually seen Chris drive before; He’d always thought he didn’t have a licence, or just never learned due to being chauffeured around for half his life by his parents or employees.

…But he seemed to be wrong.

It was almost jarring, watching Chris’s eyes dance around the road ahead of him, the same expression on his face as when he critiqued a scene in one of his shows, a set, or the lighting in a particular moment. It was jarring, but so unexpected that it was also mildly amusing. Unconsciously, he let out a snort, and Chris’s gaze flicked towards him for a brief second, his eyebrows raised.

“What?” He hummed, and Noah let out a quiet, tired laugh. Chris’s voice was cautious, as if he were making extra sure to pick his tone carefully, but it was also curious, despite the fact that he didn’t take his eyes off of the road.

“I didn’t know you could drive, and I've been working for you for, what, over a year?” He muttered, and leaned further back into the seat as the car rounded a corner. The movement made him shudder, and he began to scratch at his shoulder subconsciously, wincing at the sensation of his nails on almost raw skin. “Chef drives everywhere, I just assumed that you didn’t know how.”

At this, he watched as Chris’s lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes slightly. He still didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“...You seriously think I didn’t know how to drive-?” He started, but trailed off as they reached the first set of traffic lights, seemingly holding his breath until they slowed to a stop, waiting for the light to turn green. Only then did he turn to look at him properly, and Noah could see a flash of vulnerability cross his face – a flash that made him furrow his eyebrows on instinct – as he continued. “-Chef likes to drive, likes to feel in control, y’know? But-”

Ah, Noah was starting to get it.

“-I’m a bit of a nervous driver; doesn’t really fit with the image of the ‘always confident’ Chris Mclean, so, just in case we run into any paparazzi, which is all the fuckin’ time , Chef drives.”

Noah didn’t say anything, but after a few seconds of thought, he realised that it made… a lot of sense.

Chef had always seemed very confident in his driving abilities; he let Chris blast music through the speakers so loudly that Noah could barely hear himself think, and happily engaged in conversation with whoever was in the  car no matter the driving conditions… But Chris, while the loud music was probably evident of the faith he had in his husband… actually seemed to dislike being in cars altogether. He wasn’t as animated as he usually was whenever he was sitting in the car, and there were multiple instances Noah could remember of him freezing up completely when they had to drive through snow, heavy rain, or any other vaguely-intense weather event.

So yeah, Noah could definitely believe that Chris was a nervous driver, and when the host grit his teeth as the light turned green, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white… Well, he didn’t have any doubt that he was telling the truth.

“That’s…” He started, but hesitated a little bit before he spoke. He could make fun of him, tell him that it was just him going senile due to old age, but he found that he didn’t really want to. So he let out a sigh, quiet and exhausted, before he continued. “-I get that, man.”

Chris didn’t respond for a moment, before he let out a snort of his own, eyes flicking over to meet his again.

“Christ, not making fun of me? What are you coming down with?” He joked, but all Noah responded with was a small smirk, and a tired roll of his eyes.

Everything ached; every movement made his skin burn, and every laugh made his head spin.

When he didn’t respond, out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Chris’s expression morph into one of sympathy, or- no, was it pity? He couldn’t quite tell. Either way, for a few minutes neither of them said anything, Noah staring out at the passing cars, watching the buildings go by and grow more and more familiar as they drove closer to home, and Chris watching the traffic, gently turning the steering wheel every few seconds. Chris had taken a different route than his normal one.

But after a while, when they turned another corner and were met with an almost-empty sidestreet, Chris clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and glanced at him again. For what seemed like the millionth time, Noah already knew what he was going to say, so he averted his eyes and stared down at the dashboard.

“...What’s wrong, kid?” He spoke, and Noah let out a sigh, one so deep and long that he was almost sure he felt the host cringe beside him.

…How much was Noah willing to reveal to Chris McLean? He could tell him that he was just coming down with something, that mysteriously-late food poisoning was kicking his ass and he was trying to get over it without causing much of a fuss. He could say that he was stressed about the Gemmies, which was true, but it was obviously not the entire truth, and if he said that, then Chris would know that there was something up.

He blinked, and his mind flashed back to around two weeks ago. Him and Chris sitting in the office kitchenette, the fluorescent lightbulb above them casting shadows across their faces and illuminating the countertops as they spoke. Chris had given him advice, advice that had not only proven to be useful, but also advice that had ultimately led him here, to the exact thing he was stressed about at the moment.

…Maybe he could give him some more advice, something else that could ease the feeling in his stomach and stop his skin from burning.

So after a few moments of contemplation, he cleared his throat. His voice came out scratchy, tired, but steady nonetheless.

“I think I'm stressed out.” He started, and Chris, still glancing at him, started to laugh. Noah simply rolled his eyes; even Chris could see that, and while he probably didn’t need to mention it aloud, he thought that it was important enough to acknowledge. Putting your problems out into the universe meant that they were more likely to get solved, right? At least, that’s what Izzy said. “Don’t laugh at me , grandpa, you asked what was wrong and I'm telling you .”

“I’m not- I’m- jesus Christ, sorry, it’s just… No shit, little dude, sometimes we think it’s gonna run you into the ground.” He chuckled, sucking a long breath in through his nose in an attempt to steady himself. After a few seconds, he let out an amused sigh, and shook his head. “I’m sorry, kid… keep going, what’s going on?”

Noah sighed, and lifted his head so that he wasn’t leaning against the car window any more. It made him momentarily dizzy, but he continued, squeezing his eyes shut as if in an attempt to ease the dizziness and avoid Chris’s gaze at the same time.

“...It’s Alejandro again, I think.” He sighed, and the car significantly slowed as Chris raised an eyebrow. “This is going to sound really lame, but something about him stresses me out so much that I think it’s making me physically sick .”

Even thinking about it sent another shiver down his spine, and he scowled, running his nails down his side. There was bile in his throat, and when he looked at Chris Mclean, the host’s eyes were wary, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. Actually, Noah was struck with the thought that that was probably exactly what it was; he wasn’t sure whether he meant it in a real, genuine light, or if it was just a consequence of some kind of… crush.

“-I don’t mean, like, that he’s so evil he’s stressing me out, i mean that- I don’t, christ I don’t know, stop looking at me like that.”

As he spoke, Chris’s expression morphed into one of vague understanding, the confusion in his eyes transforming once again into sympathy. (An emotion that he didn’t know Chris was truly capable of just a month ago.) But there was something beneath it, a layer of understanding beneath the understanding on the surface, that kind of made Noah want to jump out of the car. He remembered watching a movie with Gwen and the rest of Team E-Scope a while back where a girl did the same thing.

But he didn’t jump out of the car, and instead, he watched as Chris chewed on the inside of his cheek, and nodded at him.

“I get it.” He hummed, and Noah tilted his head, a signal for him to elaborate. As they began to move forward again, slightly faster this time, Chris turned his eyes back to the road, however he didn’t stop speaking. “You thought you hated this guy but here you are, feelings are changing, attitudes are different, so many things are happening that you don’t quite know what’s going on… like that?”

Noah faltered, because yeah, it was exactly like that.

“...How did you know that?” He muttered, and Chris’s gaze flicked back to him momentarily. There was amusement behind the knowing, some sort of fucked-up wisdom that he held from years of reality television.

“I’m a reality tv star, I’m good at reading people; Jeez, thought you knew me better than this, kid, first you think I can’t drive and then you think I can’t tell when something’s going on with you?” It was almost a laugh, and Noah couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face at the tone. They lapsed back into silence; there was more he wanted to say, and seemingly, the host knew that.

“...He came over for dinner the other day, Saturday, actually.” He spoke after a while, and Chris tilted his head, a sign that he was listening. “Not just him, though, there were Izzy and Eva too, and Cody, Owen, Gwen, and we invited Heather as well.”

“Heather?”

“Yeah, she and Alejandro live together now, and I think she has something going on with Gwen, but neither of them have said anything about it-” He was beginning to ramble, his voice finding its flow in the warm silence of the car. “-But I thought it’d make Alejandro more comfortable because he hated Owen and Izzy on the show, y’know?”

Chris nodded, turning to watch him as they stopped at another intersection. They weren’t having much luck with the lights today, he noted; he wondered if it meant anything.

“But he actually got along with them really well, or Owen and Gwen, at least. I almost thought that he and Gwen were going to start making out in front of us, they looked so happy talking to each other- Well, not really, but you know what I mean-”

“ Dude .” Chris spoke, and raised an eyebrow. Noah took a breath. The expression in Chris’s eyes was the same as before; concerned, knowing, but it was enough to make him falter. He looked almost like a worried father.

He was rambling, and as he sat in silence for a moment, he realised that this wasn’t the point of the story. So he shook his head, and tried to ignore the way his heart was making its way into his throat.

“...For some reason, I’ve started thinking about him and me as- this is going to sound even more lame, but as characters in the Icarus and Daedalus myth, y’know, the one with the wax wings you replicated in Greece?” The words came out slowly, and after he said them, it was almost like his throat closed up, and he was left staring at Chris, whose gaze was fixed onto him with a frown.

“...I’m assuming you’re Icarus?” He hummed in response, after a moment of careful consideration. “And Alejandro’s the sun?”

Noah nodded.

“Yeah. It’s weird, I don’t know where the correlation came from, but-” He trailed off for a moment before he continued. “We ended up having a conversation about Icarus after dinner on Saturday; we were talking about greek mythology and it kind of just, came up, and-”

He thought about what he was about to say. This was a confession he’s never made out loud before, words he'd only ever uttered in the back corners of his mind, never in real life, never to another real person.

“...I always thought about it in the sense that Icarus got the warnings, that he knew what would happen but he simply didn’t care; He could feel himself falling, but made the conscious decision to, for some reason , keep flying higher and higher until the wings were melted and he fell into the sea.” He leant back against the window. The more he thought about it, and the more he spoke, the itchier his skin got, and he pulled uncomfortably at his shirt collar. “But I also thought that the sun didn’t consciously know what was going on, though; he wasn’t melting Icarus’s wings on purpose, it was just his nature, y’know? I don’t think he even knew it was happening.”

Chris was still looking at him, and he accelerated the car as the light turned green.

“And that’s how you see your relationship with Alejandro?” He hummed, and Noah rolled his eyes, scoffing a little bit.

“Don’t say relationship , you sound like my therapist, or, like my dad, ew.” He frowned, and Chris just raised an eyebrow. He looked like he knew already, actually, Noah would be willing to bet that he did know already. “But… yeah. Gwen’s Daedalus, he’s the sun, or Apollo, whatever, and I’m Icarus, just instead of falling into the sea, I'm…”

He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.

Chris was alternating between looking at him, and looking at the road ahead of them. There wasn’t any judgement in his eyes, but there was worry and intrigue; However, he didn't say anything, he simply waited for him to keep talking.

But Noah almost didn’t wan t to keep talking; he felt like he was about to throw up again, and he was fidgeting in his seat, uncomfortable in his own burning skin and simply the thought of what he was going to say next.

“But he said that using Icarus as a metaphor for a relationship foreshadows a downfall, no matter how you interpret it, because there’s something so inherently tragic about Icarus’s fall that you can’t erase it, no matter how you interpret it.” He gulped. He couldn’t really remember exactly what Alejandro had said, what with the wine running through his veins like ichor, the dizziness and the pounding in his head, but he remembered that it was enough to make him go running for the bathroom, contradictory enough to his own view that he wasn’t able to keep his cool. “And it freaked me out enough that I, uh, I threw up.”

At this, he shut his mouth, and at the same time, Chris pulled into the parking garage of his building. The lights of the garage were dim, and they cast a low, almost-threatening light across the inside of the car. He couldn’t help but stare at the little dashboard lights, and how they lit up in the new-found darkness of the car’s interior.

The host didn’t say anything until he pulled into a parking spot, but when he did, he unclipped his seatbelt and turned around, properly, to look at him.

Oh no .

There was something about Chris Mclean – something he was able to recognise while on the show, yet something that he was only able to comprehend while working as his assistant – that made you think that he knew more about you than you did yourself. Maybe it was the glint in his eyes, the way his lips pursed into a frown or the way he held himself, but something about him seemed almost omnipotent… Sometimes, Noah thought it was because he really was omnipotent, and now, as the host watched him with that same critical, yet concerned expression, was one of those times.

“You’re saying that the thought of him not interpreting the Icarus metaphor – the thing you’ve been using in your head to symbolise your relationship – as loving, or, I don't know, romantic , freaked you out so much that you… threw up?”

Noah froze.

Jesus fucking christ .

“...what’re you looking for with him, kid? Because it sounds like-”

“ Shut up .”

Chris shut his mouth, and Noah tore his eyes away from the host, instead staring intently out of the window again. He didn't need to jump out o the car anymore, they were at his apartment, he didn’t have to stay he could leave -

But Chris sounded so sincere. He sounded like he cared, like he knew how it felt in a way that Noah thought only one other person, Gwen , might be able to. For a moment, his mind flashed to a picture of her; she was supposed to be hanging out with Courtney right now, talking, sorting out their differences or whatever they were doing. It made his eye twitch, and he cringed as a jolt of electricity travelled up his spine.

Gwen and Courtney, him and Alejandro, Gwen and Heather.

“...I don’t know, dude, but it’s stressing me out, it’s making my skin hurt and I constantly feel like I'm about to throw up so I need it to stop .” He muttered, and flicked his eyes back to Chris.

The host was still looking at him, but slowly, he blinked, and tilted his head to the side.

He definitely knew him better than he knew himself, he could see it in his eyes.

“...Do you want my advice?” He raised an eyebrow, and hesitantly, a tiny, tiny bit afraid that Chris was going to tell him something about himself he wasn’t ready to admit yet, he nodded. “I think you need to talk to him.”

“...Are you kidding me?”

The corner of Chris’s lips twitched upwards, and Noah was so floored, so genuinely shocked by the statement that he started to laugh. He had been expecting something jarring, something that wasn’t ‘ you should talk to him ’.

“I’m serious!” Chris shook his head with a smile, rolling his eyes at Noah’s incredulous laughter. “You’re upset about this because he told you what he thought about greek myth and it wasn’t the same as yours, that’s fucked up -”

“Stop minimising my issues .” He laughed, and Chris let out an amused, exasperated sigh. He had been so convinced that Chris was going to tell him some sort of truth about himself he hadn’t yet realised, like an Oracle sharing a prophecy, that the generalisation of the statement threw him for a complete loop, knocking the wind out of him and sending his worry sprawling across the carpark.

“You can’t expect him to know that you were basing your entire relationship on the concept of ‘ Icarus as a metaphor for love ’, you need to talk to him, realise that different mythological views doesn’t equal the end of this will-they-won’t-they bullshit you have going on.” Chris grinned and this, for some reason, only made Noah laugh harder.

He really, genuinely, had no idea what to say.

“I don’t- jesus christ , you really do sound like a dad-” He snorted, and after a few struggling breaths, he managed to calm down, quelling his laughter and letting out a sigh. “Do you seriously think that talking to him is going to make me feel better?”

Chris nodded, and Noah slumped backwards, staring up at the car ceiling and closing his eyes.

“It will, and since I'm old and know more than you, I can guarantee it.”

Noah only signed in response.

On one hand, talking to Alejandro was the thing that was stressing him out in the first place, but on the other hand… Chris was probably right, or at least statistically speaking, there was a better chance of his advice being good than bad. He had been right about what to do with Alejandro before, and Christ, the thought of Alejandro’s name made him wince again.

He needed a bath, he needed to scald his skin so red that the pain went away.

So Noah groaned, and sat up again, unclipping his seatbelt with a badly disguised flinch. He had been distracted by the unexpectedness of Chris’s words, enough so that he had momentarily forgotten about the ache in his bones, but thinking about Alejandro again, thinking about talking to him more deeply than on a surface-level, brought the aching and the burning back in force.

“...Alright, grandpa, I'll talk to him.” He groaned, and Chris watched as he stumbled out of the passenger seat. Quickly, he followed suit, and as Noah leaned against the car with his eyes closed in an attempt to quell the dizziness in his head. Noah could vaguely hear the sound of his steps on the concrete, but as his eyes fluttered open, he blinked rapidly upon seeing Chris standing directly in front of him.

His arms were crossed, and Noah felt the urge to hoist himself up properly, stand straight and at attention.

“...Are you alright to get up to your place yourself?” He raised an eyebrow, and slowly, Noah nodded. He was alright, or atleast, alright enough to get up the stairs and crash onto his couch… He hoped. But Chris seemed to have some sort of faith in him, because he let out a hum of confirmation.

“I’ve got it, boss.” He drawled, and with a long, painful stretch of his arms above his head, he began to walk past him and towards the stairs. But almost instantly, he faltered, and Chris’s hand moved absentmindedly to pat encouragingly at his shoulder. The contact seemed to make the itching on his skin evaporate where the host touched him, and he rolled his shoulders back as his gaze flashed over to Chris. “Don’t worry about me.”

The host was watching him go, a slightly concerned air about him. Something briefly flashed in his mind about how Chris was going to get back to the office; he had driven his car here, so either somebody would need to pick him up, he would need to take public transport, which he could not imagine Chris doing, or he would need to walk.

He imagined that he would simply call Chef, but there was a tiny inkling in his mind that thought walking would be the better choice.

“Sometimes I think it’s my job to worry about you, jesus.” He watched Chris shake his head, and he let out a snort.

He didn’t turn around again, instead continued to walk towards the building’s stairwell. He did, however, mutter a quiet:

“Thanks for the advice.” 

In a tone so small he wasn’t sure if Chris could hear it as he rounded the corner. It seemed like he didn’t, because there was no response other than his own footsteps against the concrete.

Jesus Christ, it was like his entire body hurt; he could barely haul himself up a flight of stairs without tripping over, or getting so dizzy that he had to close his eyes and rub furiously at his temples. His skin was burning, his legs were too heavy, and he knew that if he even tried the elevator he would be sick… and seriously, if there was any place he didn’t want to be sick it was the elevator.

So he settled for hauling himself up the stairs and stumbling into his apartment, not bothering to lock the door behind him. His apartment, to his relief, was clean, organised, and hadn’t been broken into since he went to work that morning. It smelt like the tea he hadn’t finished drinking that morning, and faintly, he could hear the sound of one of his neighbours blasting music through a speaker.

He couldn’t tell if it was comforting, or if it made him want to tear his hair out.

—

Chris really was starting to like walking.

Seriously, It was ten times more relaxing than being in a car, and it gave him time to think, time to contemplate the day, his emotions, and generally, anything that happened to cross his mind.

It was a reprieve, almost, from the exhausting reality of reality tv.

It took him almost two hours to walk from Noah’s apartment block back to the office, and he thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t have any meetings scheduled until five, so that he could take his time and listen to the sound of the world around him. Around an hour in, he watched a black prius swerve around a bird that just barely managed to fly off the road in time to avoid being hit. At an hour and a half in, he narrowly managed to avoid being hit himself, having to jump back onto the curb as a car came spinning around the corner well over the speed limit.

It made him feel alive, and when he finally reached the office, he felt a little better than he did before.

Well, he had felt pretty awful before, but the churning worry in his stomach was gone, and the deep feelings of guilt he was harbouring towards the boy he had dropped off only two hours prior were slowly dissipating.

…Well, kind of dissipating, they were very much still there, and he doubted that they were going to disappear… And people say that he didn’t have any sense of empathy.

Anyway, upon reaching the office it didn’t take long for him to be cornered by at least four people; He had reports to hand in, flights to book, interviews to organise, and- Jesus Christ, he needed a nap, or a drink, or both.

It was a common theory among reality TV forums, Total Drama and an assortment of his other shows alike, that Chris McLean was lazy , that he didn’t ever do work other than hosting, that he was ultimately undeserving of his hollywood status, and that the only good thing he ever brought to his TV shows was movie-star charisma and an ability to work the room. This was such a common theory that it’s cost him jobs, not so many that it was debilitating, but enough for him to notice.

In reality, the network would probably collapse without him, and he fucking knows it .

…But this was one of those days where Chris McLean would be willing to let the network burn. He felt better after the walk, but he was still tired, he was still guilty, and he was pretty sure that Noah’s stress-induced illness was rubbing off on him. He could feel the sleep clawing at his vision, and the thought of having to go to his 5 o'clock (Another executive meeting about the Gemmie Awards.) made him want to hurl. Genuinely, it was all he could do to dart in the elevator just before it closed, managing to narrowly avoid a fifth person who wanted to talk to him, and let out a sigh of exhaustion.

Eventually, when he reached his floor, he quickly stepped out, walked over to his desk where, thank the gods , Chef was sitting, (his eyes snapped over to him in concern when he stopped in front of him.) and placed his hands on his hips.

For a moment he didn’t say anything, and Chef tilted his head.

“...You look like you’ve been hit by a bus.” He deadpanned, but when Chris’s frown deepened, he scooted his chair closer and furrowed his eyebrows. “You alright, man?”

…He kind of felt like he’d been hit by a bus, so he just sighed, and ran an exasperated hand through his hair.

“...Can we reschedule the Gemmies meeting today?” He murmured, moving the hand running through his hair to rub at his temples as he closed his eyes. He could feel Chef’s eyes examining him, searching him for any signs of something urgent, physical, rather than just emotional.

He had known Chef since they were late-teenagers. They had been booked together on what was his first-ever reality tv gig, and Christ , he had been star-struck the moment he laid eyes on him. He had been a hopeless romantic, practically tripping over his own feet in an effort to impress him, in an effort to do something that would make an imprint on Chef’s mind the way he had on Chris’s without even trying.

They knew everything about each other, their likes, dislikes, favourite foods and least-favourite shows. He knew that Chef’s favourite horror movie was Alien , and Chef knew that the only time Chris was willing to watch it with him was when he was sick. Chef knew that Chris didn’t read a lot, but he had finished the Chronicles of Narnia at least twenty three times. Chris knew that Chef did read a lot, but he refused to touch anything Terry Pratchett had ever written, because he knew that if he did he would probably love it, and then spend his entire next paycheck on the rest of his books.

Chris knew about all his little mannerisms, was familiar with the way his eye twitched when he was angry, with the way he tapped on the steering wheel when he was happy; And Chef knew the same, so when he opened his eyes to look at him, there was no hesitation before Chef nodded, and stood from his chair.

“I’ll call them to reschedule.” Chef muttered, and Chris nodded, not responding in favour of letting his shoulders slump, and tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. It was new-ish, installed less than three years prior when the building practically flooded after a storm. As Chef moved past him, he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head, and Chris swore he could have melted on the spot, he was so tired. “Early finish?”

“Early finish.” He spoke, and grabbed his jacket from the back of his seat. “Thanks, I don’t know what I'd do without you.”

Chef’s lips twitched upwards, and he began to walk towards the exit of the building.

“Well, you’d have to go to the Gemmies meeting, for one.” He hummed, and when Chris only responded with a half-hearted snort, he slowed his pace, draped an arm around his shoulder, and squeezed him, only slightly. “But ‘course, anything for you.”

Chris was so glad they had unlimited days off, and he sighed, frowning, leaning into Chef’s side.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

—

“Fuck, fuck, ouch-” Noah scowled. His voice was raw, scratchy, and felt just like his skin did; burning with the sensation of bile crawling its way up his throat. “This is so fucking unfair, I- Shit! ”

The first thing he did when he reached his apartment was drop himself onto the couch, and stare, eyes wide and breath slow, at the ceiling. It was bare, astoundingly so, and he made a mental note to ask Gwen if he could pay her to paint something up there… He was renting, he couldn’t paint the ceiling, but he’d ask if he could anyway. He lay there for around ten minutes, waiting to see if his skin would calm down in the comfort of his own home, but when it didn’t, he ran an exhausted hand down his face and hoisted himself up, shuffling over to the bathroom with a groan.

A bath , he needed a bath, they always helped.

Scalding hot, no cold water, lavender-scented bubble bath: A foolproof plan. He had cleaned the bath, leaning painfully over the side of the tub to scrub at the sides, ensured that there weren’t any bugs hiding in the faucet, and had just turned the tap on, when he realised that he had never replied to Alejandro’s text message.

Upon that realisation, he had moved to grab his phone from where he had left it in the living room, and promptly slammed into the doorframe.

Fucking dizziness, the vertigo was fucking up his depth perception.

“-I fucking hate this, God, if you’ve ever wanted to strike me down then now’s the time .” He grumbled, practically limping towards the couch and grabbing his phone from on top of one of the cushions. There were a few messages from various group chats, and a get-well-soon notification from Chef, but other than that, nothing particularly eye-catching. So he clicked onto Alejandro’s contact, and stared down at the phone.

…What should he even say? He needed to talk to Alejandro, or at least, Chris said he needed to talk to Alejandro, but he felt almost like he was about to die , and he figured that that probably wasn’t the mood he should approach this conversation with. He could…

He could tell him the truth, he could say he was sick.

Alejandro - 12:27 pm

Good afternoon, my dear Noah :) 

Are you still available for tonight? How is work going?

Me - 12:52 pm

Afternoon

Im sorry, need to postpone :( 

Sick, my bones ache

So not the best

The reply was practically instant, and Noah blinked down at the screen, his stomach spinning and his spine aching.

Alejandro - 12:52 pm

Oh dear, that’s completely okay my dear noah

Taking care of yourself is important

Do you know what you have?

Me - 12:53 pm

I think it’s a stress thing smh

Gemmies preparation is kicking my ass fr

But they told me I can’t come back until i’m better so it’s quarantine time

That wasn’t exactly true, but Noah could see it in Chris’s eyes as they drove. For one, he didn’t want to give anybody in the office anything in the case that he was genuinely sick, and another, he wanted him to be better for the awards show, no matter the cost. The next reply came a little slower.

Alejandro - 12:57 pm

Would you like me to drop by?

If it’s a stress thing then you won’t give me anything, and I may be able to

Relax you ;)

And I can bring soup! Or tea, or something

If that would make you feel better.

Noah’s stomach lurched, and he clasped a hand over his mouth, swallowing, harshly , to preemptively stop himself from losing it again.

Alejandro was making the offer to come over; he was telling him that he could ‘relax him ;)’ and while he knew it was a joke the prospect of him being in his house and-

He took a breath.

If Alejandro came over, he would have somebody to make him dinner, or at least something to eat so that he wouldn’t starve. He would have somebody to sit with and talk to, somebody to distract him from the way his bones ached and the way his skin burned- They would get to talk, Noah would be able to clarify some things, if not directly, and if all went to plan, then maybe, maybe , tomorrow would be okay.

So he shot a text back.

Me - 12:59 pm

I’ll be in the bath, helps with the muscle aches, y’know

And leave the innuendos for when i’m NOT sick and gross omg

Skeeze

But yeah, please, if you’re willing

Soup is good

The reply back was, again, instantaneous, and a small smile crept its way onto his face.

Alejandro - 12:59 pm

Willing and ready, it’d be my pleasure

I have class for another 20 minutes

So i shall be there around 1:40 :) 

Is that alright?

Me - 1:00 pm

It’s wonderful

Thankyou

Alejandro - 1:00 pm

<3

Me - 1:00 pm

Gross

Alejandro was coming to his house, and while the thought of someone ‘taking care of him’ while he was sick made him shiver in vague discomfort, he was almost… comforted by the knowledge that there was going to be somebody else around.

He didn’t want the bath to overflow, so he swept himself back towards the bathroom.

It was going to be alright, it was going to be fine .

Chapter Text

The bath is scalding; hot enough that if the lights were turned on, Noah would be able to see that his skin was turning a bright, worrying red, and his fingers were wrinkling like when one spends too long in a pool. The bubbles crackled gently around the otherwise silent bathroom, and the fluorescent overhead lights were switched off; his attempt at repriving the headache pounding at the back of his skull.

The baths usually worked; in the past, when the eel scars would start to burn and his bones would ache like hell, submerging himself into the scalding water and staying there until he could barely hold himself up would ease the pain in his shoulders enough to fix him. It was kind of like factory resetting a computer; he would get out of the bath eventually, collapse into bed and sleep like the dead until he woke up fourteen hours later feeling… 

…Feeling better, feeling okay .

And that was really all he could ask for. (And usually, all he really wanted to ask for. Today however, with the anticipation of Alejandro’s impending visit looming above the bath, he could think of a couple of other things he wanted along with finally feeling fine again.)

Since Noah was nothing if not observant, nothing if not a tiny bit self aware, he could easily acknowledge the irony of the situation. Seriously, he had declined their nightly phone call because, talking to Alejandro had been making him so anxious he could barely carry himself up the stairs, but at the same time, the mere mention of soup of all things made Noah fold, and he had invited him over to ‘take care of him’ in his hour of need.

Ugh. Noah cringed at the thought, sinking deeper into the bath with a groan.

“Taking care of me? My hour of need? Gross .” He grimaced, and let out a breath when the bubbles crackled around him, as if in agreement. That being said, he couldn’t help the, this time vaguely positive, shiver that shot up his spine at the thought of the other boy coming over.

The thought of somebody ‘taking care of him’ was unnerving, but the thought of Alejandro … Well, not taking care of him, but being there for him made his heart skip a beat. Maybe it was the pain medication he had taken before he had stepped into the bath, the prescription stuff that he needed to shove a piece of toast in his mouth to take properly, or simply the pain making him delirious, but Christ , he was… almost excited to see him.

What would he say? Would he hold his hand while he was sitting in the bath? Make him dinner while he suffered, bring him soup like he said he would? Would he press the back of his hand to his forehead to make sure he didn’t have a fever? Would he run his fingers along the scars on his back when he got out of the water?

He hoped-

No, he didn’t hope for anything. He was thinking like a twelve year old with no idea how relationships worked, he was thinking like the protagonist in a fantasy novel, he was thinking like Gwen.

He grimaced again.

“...He’s not going to be an ass about it.” He hummed, voicing his thoughts to the dark, still air of the bathroom. His voice bounced off of the tiles, echoing around the space and flooding back into his own ears. “He wanted to come, he’s going to be- I don’t know, he’s not going to be an ass about it.”

The bathroom didn’t say anything back, but ironically, almost like the universe heard him finish speaking, there was a knock at the door.

-A knock that he had no doubt was Alejandro Burromuerto on the other side of the hallway door. He had left the door unlocked for him, because he figured that getting robbed would be easier than having to haul himself out of the bath to open it, so he simply took a breath, and called out;

“ It’s unlocked .”

The sound of his own voice was louder than he intended it to be, and it bounced around the bathroom tiles, reverberating into his ears and making him cringe. Christ, he was loud, it was like a gunshot. Before he could hear Alejandro’s response, he sank further down into the water.

As well as the irony, he could also recognize his own minute-failure. A bath was almost like a miracle cure, or at least it usually was, so why hadn’t he taken one two days ago? For some reason, he had completely disregarded the idea of a bath all together, or had at least forgotten about it a second after thinking about it. Had he just taken a bath the moment Gwen had left last Sunday, then he might have been able to avoid the rest of the week off suffering that followed. If he had taken a bath yesterday or the day before, then he would’ve been fine today, he would’ve-

But he didn’t take a bath yesterday, or the day before, so here he was.

The water was still scalding, but the tension in his shoulders was easing, and he could feel the skin on his back start to cool, despite the heat of the water.

…He was about to see Alejandro. He was about to walk through his bathroom door; the cause of his stress, the only person who’s been on his mind for weeks, the-

There was a knock on the bathroom door. It was soft, gentle, as if the knocker was aware of his headache and was trying to keep the volume down. Before he could answer it, the door creaked open, and upon opening his eyes, Noah watched the dim light from the rest of the apartment flood through the crack…

…Along with the unmistakable silhouette of Alejandro Burromuerto.

Jesus Christ .

Illuminated and back-lit by the lamps in the hallway, he looked almost ethereal. His hair was loose, tumbling lightly onto his shoulders, and his features were set, soft and worried, onto skin so clear it lit up like the sun.

Lit up like the sun- He couldn’t do this, he was going to throw up-

“...Noah, my dear, how are you-”

Before he could finish, Noah dunked the rest of his head into the water.

If he didn’t see him, he couldn’t throw up, right? If he couldn’t see him, he wasn’t there - That wasn’t how it worked at all, he knew it wasn’t how it worked, and dammit he was so tired , he could feel it in his bones and he couldn’t hold his breath forever and-

And he lifted his head up, pushing himself above the water, and taking a long, tired breath. The hallway lights made the pounding at the back of his head return, and he winced, only slightly. Droplets clung to his eyelashes, and through blinks, he watched as Alejandro took a slow step forward, hesitating, as if he was scared that Noah was going to tell him to leave.

Jesus, if he didn’t stop looking like that he just might.

But he didn’t, instead, using a hand to brush the hair from his eyes, he tilted his head to the side and met the other boy’s gaze. Alejandro’s eyes were fixed onto him, watching him with that mossy, cool green gaze that Noah was beginning to know all too well; his lips were parted, as if he wanted to say something, and he licked his lips, making his heart jump up into his chest. Noah, watching him, let out a quiet hum. The light from the hallway hurt his eyes.

“...Hey.” He murmured, and he watched, a warm feeling spreading through his stomach, as the tension in Alejandro’s shoulders seemed to melt away, and a small smile appeared on his face. At the sight of it, Noah averted his gaze and tilted his head back in an attempt to avoid the light, and push his heart back into his chest. “Could you close the door? I’m sorry, my head hurts.”

Alejandro smiled, that warm, loving smile of his, and turned to push the door shut, gently and slowly so as not to make any noise.

“Of course, my dear.” He hummed, and when the room went dark, Noah let out a quiet sigh of relief. Not only did the darkness soothe his headache, but it also meant that he didn’t have to look at him anymore, didn’t have to stare into his eyes, and could instead talk to him under the comfort of dimness. “Are you alright?”

He had to talk to him; Not only did Chris tell him to, but he had a feeling that he would get over whatever this was a lot quicker if he did. So he let out a hum, and closed his eyes.

He heard the sound of a few steps, socks treading gently over tile, before he heard the telltale sound of somebody bending over, and setting themselves down. Alejandro was sitting next to the bath; looking at him or looking away, he didn’t know, but he could practically feel him there, the warmth and adoration radiating off of him like perfume, or cologne. It was enough to send another jolt up his spine, and with a tired, croaking voice, he sighed.

“...Bad week, y’know?” He groaned, quiet enough for it to be a whisper, yet loud enough to bounce around the tiled room. “Gemmie preparation is-”

“-Kicking your ass?” Alejandro interrupted, and Noah let out an exhausted chuckle. His voice sounded like he was speaking away from him, so he decided that the other boy was sitting with his back up against the side of the tub; Noah could probably lean to the side and rest his head against Alejandro’s if he wanted to, but he wasn’t that delirious, neither with sleep nor medication.

“You're starting to know me too well, you eel.” He smirked, and he could practically feel Alejandro’s smile getting larger. “But yeah, kicking my ass. There’s an annoying amount of preparation we have to do, apparently, and I didn’t even work on the show.”

“Really?” Alejandro hummed in response, his voice gentle.

Noah nodded.

“Yeah.” He murmured. “You would think it was just a kind of ‘rock up on the day’ kind of thing right? But there’s all this insurance, especially when it comes to Chris… Did you know his face is ensured? And his teeth?”

Noah blinked his eyes open. They were accustomed to the darkness already, and he tilted his head gently to the side to watch Alejandro swivel his head around, and raise an incredulous eyebrow at him. It seemed that Alejandro’s eyes had become accustomed to the light too, because upon seeing him blink across at him, the other boy’s eyes seemed to light up, and he moved to swivel himself around to look at him better.

Jesus, Noah wanted to reach out and cup his face in his hands. He wanted to watch him breathe, feel that glass skin in his hands and kiss him - Delirium.

“That does not surprise me.” Alejandro mused, and Noah’s lips twitched upwards. “Considering all the reality television he does, it must be for quite a lot, isn’t it?”

“Over two hundred grand.” Noah confirmed, and Alejandro let out a low whistle. They lapsed into silence, a gentle one, the kind that felt safe and warm in comparison to the harsh cold of the air outside the bath. He could feel his skin easing, and the pounding in his head fading away the longer he drifted, but on the topic of Chris, he could feel his fingers twitch, and he couldn’t stop the confession from leaving his lips as a jolt of discomfort shot up his spine. “...He drove me home today, from work.”

There was a beat of silence, before Alejandro opened his mouth again.

“...What do you mean? I thought you were sick, why did you go to work?” His voice was gentle, and he leaned forward as he said it, only slightly. He smelt like cologne, barely detectable over the smell of lavender bubble bath, but present enough for Noah to turn his head away, and stare desperately at the tiled wall.

He shouldn't have gone to work; the other boy hadn’t said it, but he didn’t have to. Getting out of bed that morning had been a bad idea, it was a miracle he hadn’t crashed his car on the way there.

“I threw up in the bathroom.” He grimaced, and couldn’t bring himself to turn back around to look at him. He couldn’t help the defeated tone at the back of his voice. “I shouldn't've gone, I know, but I've missed a lot of work recently and I didn’t want to leave Chris and Chef with all of the Gemmies work. He told me I needed to take ‘mandatory sick leave’, so he drove me home. He’s a nervous driver.”

The tiled walls were a dark navy; supposably the reason the previous tenants lost a section of their security deposit, but he liked them. He liked the air they gave the bathroom and the way they absorbed much of the little light left in the room. He didn’t know what Alejandro’s expression was, but he could imagine that he was looking at him with that vague look of disappointment resting on his features, the one that he didn’t see very often because it wasn’t often that Alejandro was disappointed in him.

“...Well, I'm glad you got home safe; I couldn’t imagine what I would do if anything happened to you.” Alejandro muttered, his voice echoing like his own around the bathroom, and fuck , Noah almost wanted to drown himself, the way he spoke made his heart leap into his chest. What did he mean by that ? Before Noah could turn around and gauge his expression, attempt, in vague delirium, to analyse his body language, Alejandro continued. “He seems to genuinely care about you, alot .”

…Chris did seem to care about him alot, hell, he treated him like his own child half the time; letting him take sick days from work, driving him around everywhere… Well, chef driving him around everywhere.

“I think he does.” He hummed in response, and moved to sink the tops of his shoulders beneath the bubbles. Instantly, upon touching the water, the burning seemed to ease, and he sighed. “I don’t know, I think he feels bad about what happened after my elimination on World Tour. I-”

He snapped his mouth shut, and his shoulders started to ache again, his bones beginning to itch under his skin… Alejandro didn’t know what happened after his elimination.

Alejandro didn’t know about the eels, he didn’t know about anything , because they hadn’t talked about Total Drama, or at least their respective eliminations, at all . What would he say? Would he ask? Jesus Christ, he pushed him out of a plane and he fell into a lake full of fucking-

He could practically feel his pulse quicken. There were a few moments of silence, with him unable to find the words to continue, before Alejandro’s voice bounced around the room once again, and Noah’s heart skipped a beat.

“...What happened after your elimination?” He murmured, his voice cautious, gentle, afraid of what the answer could be…Because it was his fault.

He knew, he knew that whatever happened after Noah was pushed out of that god-forsaken plane was his fault . He had caused it, he knew he had caused it, but he didn’t know what ‘it’ actually was. Noah didn’t have to tell him; He could change the topic, he could say literally anything else and Alejandro would follow his lead, but christ, he wanted him to know, He wanted him to know what he did to him, how he tarnished his skin and his psyche at the same fucking time.

He wanted him to know, he wanted him to know so that he could hear the word ‘i’m sorry’ fall out of his mouth. He wanted him to know so that he could see the look in his eye when he told him. He-

He didn’t want him to know so that he could feel some kind of fucked-up sense of justice; He didn’t want to… ugh , he didn’t want to hurt him .

But he wanted him to know, and he was pretty sure that Alejandro wanted to know, as well.

“...After my elimination.” he started, unable to hide the shaking and hesitation in his voice as he spoke. He still didn’t turn to look at Alejandro, instead keeping his eyes firmly locked onto the tiled wall. “I, uh, my parachute failed the first time, and I wasn’t able to make it work until I was almost on the ground-”

He couldn’t look at Alejandro, he didn’t want to see the look on his face. But he couldn’t keep his voice steady, and slowly, he rose a little further out of the bath.

“-And I landed in a pond. I broke my ankle, honestly, it was a miracle that that was the only bone I broke… But when I landed, I was-” He gulped. He could feel bile rising up into his throat, he could feel the scars on his back start to sting again. He could feel Alejandro’s gaze on him, the way his eyes were probably widening in shock, waiting for the punchline. “...I was-”

He took a long, deep breath, he felt like there wasn’t any oxygen in his lungs, like they were filling up with dark, salty water. The inside of his mouth tasted metallic.

“...There were eels in the pond. Electric eels, like the ones that stung Gwen in Jamaica, and they- They attacked me, dozens of them.” He muttered. The bubbles crackled around him, and he could hear the sound of Alejandro’s breathing stop. “I- I almost drowned, and I think the only reason I didn't was because- uh, there was a man who was patrolling his farmland, or something, he pulled me out of the water.”

The bathroom lapsed into silence, and Noah didn’t turn his head. 

For a long, long stretch of what was probably only a few moments, Alejandro didn’t say anything. He knew that it was his fault that happened to him, and he- Noah didn’t know what he thought, he didn’t know what he could possibly be thinking right now. Truthfully, Noah almost didn’t want him to say anything, didn’t want him to acknowledge what he just said.

He just wanted him to know, he didn’t want him to care.

“...Noah.”

Alejandro’s voice came out quietly, and undertone of something he couldn’t quite make out. He sounded almost upset, pitying . He still didn’t turn around, but he squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling. He thanked the gods that the room was dark, that Alejandro couldn’t see the redness on his skin or the way his nails dug into his knees beneath the water… He didn’t know what to say, so he waited.

“Noah, i’m-”

“Don’t.”

He didn’t want him to apologise, Jesus christ he didn’t want him to apologise. Sure, it was his fault, but- his thoughts were all messed up. One moment he wanted Alejandro to apologise, to grovel for forgiveness if he wanted to keep talking to him, and the next he didn’t, the next he simply wanted him to stay where he was, hold his hand, and maybe, just maybe make him dinner, or something.

“...Noah, can you look at me, please .” Alejandro’s voice spoke, steady and knowing, but almost pleading, like he wanted to see the look on his face just as much as Noah didn’t want to see the look on his. But he couldn’t look away forever, he needed to talk to him, he wanted to talk to him. If he didn’t then Alejandro would leave, he would lose his mind and stop returning his texts… And he didn’t want that, not at all.

So slowly, like he was tearing his gaze away from something he almost couldn't bear to, he tilted his head to the other side to look at Alejandro, to look at the sun .

Alejandro’s features had morphed into an expression of almost shock; a combination of disbelief, guilt, pity and apology dancing across his features, swimming through his eyes as he stared. Noah was sure he didn’t look much calmer. He was anxious, borderline nauseous and Alejandro could probably see it on his face. The other boy had a hand resting on the side of the bathtub, so close to him that Noah could probably reach out and hold it if he wanted to, but he didn’t, instead, he blinked slowly across at him, and began to speak before Alejandro could open his mouth again.

“I don’t want you to apologise.” He murmured, and Alejandro furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, his lips pressing into even more of a frown than they already were. “I just- you asked, and I figured you would find out eventually, so why not now, y’know?... I still have the scars, a bunch of them, but- but I don’t want you to look at me differently, or anything.”

The middle of his statement was punctuated by a quiet, half-hearted chuckle, but it slowly dissipated as he continued. Gwen had said that Alejandro wouldn’t look at him differently, that he wouldn’t care about the scars beyond making sure they didn’t hurt him or anything… But still, he watched as Alejandro’s face twisted, a dozen emotions dancing across his features at once  before he landed on something akin to confusion.

“...You truly think I would look at you differently because of a couple of scars? Let alone the scars you received because of Total Drama ?” He murmured back, his voice almost quieter than his own as he stared at him. Noah sat up a little further, and he could see Alejandro’s gaze flick to his shoulders, but his expression didn’t change. He glanced down at the bathwater, and brought a hand up to run it through his hair.

“I don’t know.” He sighed, and his eyes widened as the hand resting on the side of the bath reached out, and took the hand running through his hair in his own. Noah didn’t know what to say, so he simply stared, shaking, as Alejandro squeezed his hand, and tilted his head to the side.

“...Nothing could ever make me see you any differently than I do now, my dear.” He whispered, and Noah couldn’t breathe .

He could feel the skin on Alejandro’s palms, and the way his fingers, soft and warm, intertwined with his and rested on the back of his hand. In contrast to only a few seconds ago, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the boy in front of him, who was looking across at him with so much emotion in his eyes that Noah was unable to interpret what it meant.

Adoration . He thought, opening his mouth to say something, but closing his mouth almost immediately, when he realised he didn’t have anything to say. That’s all it is, it’s not a- Jesus Christ I want him to kiss me -

-Oh, shit.

… This is not what adoration feels like .

He wanted him to kiss him; He wanted him to kiss him so badly it hurt . He knew what that meant, he knew- 

“...Well-” He opened his mouth, finally having found his voice, and licking his lips when the words faltered in his throat. His voice was hushed, shaking, and almost inaudible. -”How do you see me now, then?” 

Alejandro barely hesitated.

“I adore you, you’re- you’re like the sun .”

… Oh my god .

The words were almost a direct mirror of Noah’s own thoughts. He was the sun? Alejandro adored him ? A thousand thoughts were flying through Noah’s head, yet, despite that, the only coherent thing he could make out was the desire to press his lips to the boy’s in front of him. He was so close, he was holding his hand , for christ’s sake.

There was a look in Alejandro’s eyes, an emotion akin to longing that made it seem like he wanted the same thing he did. His eyes glinted in the dimness, the cool green that Noah couldn’t shake from his memory no matter how much he tried. He was delirious, he had to be delirious, because he looked almost like he was about to lean in, about to close the gap between them and press their lips together, let him feel the way his hands ran through his hair and…

…But Alejandro pulled away, gently pulling his hand from his own and settling down on his knees.

He didn’t lean forward. He didn’t kiss him. Instead, he cleared his throat, and began to speak as Noah blinked at him in disbelief, and steadily increasing disappointment.

“I, uh, I brought you some soup. Heather made it for dinner yesterday because it was her turn to cook, and- er, I do believe you’ll like it, it’s pumpkin.” He hummed, gesturing his hands to something on the floor, what he could assume was a bag he didn’t notice earlier.

Noah did like pumpkin soup, it was something they’d talked about just the other day, but that wasn’t quite what he was focusing on. What he was focusing on was the look in Alejandro’s eyes, the admission that he was thinking about him in the exact same way that he did; it was the pull between them, the obvious, obvious want he was excusing as he looked at him… But he had diverted for a reason, a reason Noah didn’t know.

Maybe he wasn’t that interested, maybe it was the delirium from the medication, or the exhaustion, or the pain, or-

God-fucking-dammit, he needed to stop thinking; his internal monologue was getting too much for him. So he blinked, hard , shaking the thoughts from his head, and nodding.

He would talk to him about it eventually, maybe after soup.

“I like pumpkin soup.” He hummed, and Alejandro’s lips switched upwards into a playful smile. It made his heart skip a beat, and it made his stomach flip… But that might have just been from hunger. 

“Do you want me to heat some up for you?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking, and Noah let out a semi-dramatic sigh. It made Alejandro chuckle, and he tilted his head up to look at the ceiling.

“Maybe in a little bit.” He mumbled, and Alejandro hummed in affirmation, settling down again with his back resting against the bathtub; Noah watched him out of the corner of his eyes, and when he was finally looking away, he let his shoulders drop, and he sank further down into the water. He wanted to stay there forever. “I’m not hungry, and I don’t want to get out of the bath.”

Alejandro too tilted his head back so that he was looking at the ceiling. Noah could almost see his face, and his hair was dangerously close to dripping into the water. Luckily for him, it didn’t quite reach, only collecting a few bubbles, and he tapped his fingers against the tiled flooring. Noah wanted to run his hands through his hair.

“Does the bath truly help with muscle aches?”

“Mhm.” Noah hummed. “It’s kind of like a miracle cure, helps with everything, I swear. Honestly, I should’ve taken one days ago, it probably would’ve evaporated the stress, and I would be fine right now.”

Alejandro snorted, and Noah couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face at the sound.

“Right, because you have a stress-induced illness.” He laughed, that quiet, considerate laugh of his. “My mother used to say that a nice bath could cure all ailments.”

“She was right-” He groaned, and when Alejandro tried to tip his head back even more, Noah pressed the tip of one of his fingers to the back of his head. “You’ll get your hair wet, be careful. Christ , my bones hurt.”

“I care very little about my hair getting wet, my dear Noah. Do you need me to give you a massage? That may help with your bones.”

The end of Alejandro’s sentence was punctuated with a snort, and Noah rolled his eyes, letting out a groan.

“Don’t be a skeeze, jesus.” He sighed, and Alejandro laughed in response; it was musical, like the sound of a bow on a violin, or a bird call in an otherwise empty forest. It seemed like Alejandro didn’t have much else to say, because the two of them slipped back into gentle silence.

Noah couldn't imagine getting out of the bath anytime soon. In fact, he genuinely thought he could stay there until the sun went down, and he was so tired that he would simply haul himself to bed and collapse without eating anything. That was what he usually did, at least, he wasn’t quite sure that Alejandro would let him this time around though.

Speaking, or rather thinking of, if Alejandro had been thinking about Noah the same way he had been thinking about him all this time, had the Icarus metaphor been a part of Alejandro’s thought process as well? The thought, partnered with his memory of Alejandro’s interpretation of the myth, made his stomach churn, and he let out a short, melodious hum.

“Alejandro.” He muttered, and the other boy let out a hum in response. He could talk about Icarus, he could do what Chris had told him to do and talk to him about what he wanted with him, he could… He didn’t really want to do either of those things. “...You don’t have to stay if you have other things to do. I don’t think I'm going to get out of the bath for a while.”

He could imagine Alejandro’s eyebrows furrowing as a vaguely confused noise escaped his throat.

“If you wish for me to leave, then I-” He started, but Noah jolted upwards and shook his head, splashing water gently into the air and making Alejandro flinch with an amused yelp. The offer to leave was supposed to be common courtesy, not an actual request to leave- Noah didn’t want him to leave, he wanted him to stay.

“No! No, I, er, I don’t want you to leave, but I get it if you have other things planned for the day, y’know?” He spoke, wincing at the almost-frantic tone with which the words came out of his mouth. “I want you to stay, if you’re willing… I like the company, and Gwen’s not available.”

There were a few moments of silence, before Alejandro’s shoulders started to shake, and to Noah’s vague annoyance, he started to laugh .

“Alas, I am still second place to Gwen.” He sighed, amusement evident in his voice as he laughed, and Noah squawked indignantly. “Of course I'm willing to stay, my dear, I would drop everything for you… Plus, Heather is having one of those days, and I believe she’s pretty happy that I am not currently in the house.”

I would drop everything for you . Noah could feel his face heat up, and he was very glad that Alejandro wasn’t looking at him, and instead laughing up at the ceiling.

“Hey, Gwen’s always number one, no matter what happens.” He hummed, and Alejandro snorted. “And what do you mean by one of those days? Is she, like, alright?”

He watched Alejandro nod, and the boy let out a sigh that made Noah raise an eyebrow.

“She’s… rather stressed out. She’s gone on a cleaning sweep, the kitchen, the bathroom, the living room, she’s cleaned all of them and I believe she’s moved onto my bedroom. She only ever does this when she’s stressed out and doesn’t want anybody to bother her. I believe that it’s because-”

“-Because of Gwen and Courney’s lunch date?” Noah sat up, and Alejandro glanced around at him in surprise.

He had seen the way Heather was looking at Gwen last saturday when they were having dinner, he had heard the way Gwen talked about her, he knew about the ballerina painting… They were like puzzle pieces, and while he felt like he was definitely missing a few, he had enough to be able to tell what the picture would be without looking at the box.

“...Yes, because of their ‘lunch date’.” Alejandro spoke, and blinked across at him. It was almost like he didn’t know what to say, like he didn’t expect him to figure… figure ‘something’ out. “Did Gwen- She’s worried, you see, about what will happen regarding the state of Gwen and Courtney’s relationship.”

“She is?” Noah raised an eyebrow, and Alejandro nodded. They hadn’t talked about Gwen and Heather before, well, had never talked about them as a duo , a relationship, perhaps, despite how Noah had wanted to ask about it. It seemed like Alejandro knew more than he did, and he was good at context clues, many of which were telling him that this was not dinner table conversation. “Wasn’t she the one that told Gwen to talk to Courtney or something?”

Alejandro let out a sigh, a long, exasperated sigh that Noah could tell wasn’t directed at him.

Ah , so there was something going on here that Alejandro himself had an opinion on.

“Heather… Heather told Gwen what she thought she needed to hear, not what she, er, wanted to tell her.” Alejandro muttered, and Noah leaned closer to him. He was speaking so quietly that he could barely hear him, and in a tone that suggested he wasn’t finished. “She told her the opposite of what I told her to say.”

“...The opposite?” Noah raised an eyebrow, interest peaked once again. What had Alejandro told her to say? “What do you mean by that?”

Alejandro hesitated. He seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of telling him what he truly meant; After a few moments, he glanced around, a small, guilty look on his face that made Noah frown.

“...Has Gwen really not told you anything?”

Noah shook his head, and Alejandro’s expression morphed into a frown.

“...I told Heather to go for it. Go for what , I believe you’ll be able to figure it out for yourself.” He sighed, and sent Noah another quick, knowing glance

He told her to go for it … He told her to go for it, he told her to-

Alejandro told Heather to go for it .

Noah jolted upwards, his eyes widening as Alejandro let out a knowing groan.

“You’re kidding me.” He raised his eyebrows, and Alejandro hummed in affirmation. “They’re actually-”

“ Heather is.” He spoke, and Noah watched as one of his hands raised to run though his hair. It looked freshly washed, clean and shiny in the minimal light slipping in from beneath the doorframe. “Gwen has not spoken to me about it since… You should ask her, she’ll tell you if you do.”

Noah didn’t reply, instead only blinked across at him with a frown; Since when did he know anything about Gwen, let alone whether or not she’d tell him about something-

Actually, come to think of it, why hadn’t Gwen told him about Heather before? Hell, why hadn't she mentioned her, or Alejandro, or the fact that she had been hanging around either of them at all over the last year? The thought made his eyebrows furrow, and he sunk further down into the bath. Sure, there are always things you don’t want to share with people, like how he hadn’t really told Gwen about the Icarus metaphor, or about the bathroom during dinner… But this was different; Heather seemed like she had genuinely been an important part of Gwen’s life, and gathering evidence from everything he had heard and figured out, whatever was going on between the two of them seemed… Big. 

Big, in the sense that neither of them seemed very willing to talk about it freely.

But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t a little bit upset that Gwen hadn’t told him. They were supposed to be best friends, best friends who told each other most things, or at least all of the big things that happen to them, y’know?

Alejandro seemed to sense a change in his demeanour, so he glanced around again, and with glinting, warm eyes, smiled at him.

“You’re alright?” He hummed, and Noah sighed.

He was, he was alright; Infact, he could feel the burning in his skin lessening, and his muscles relaxing as he floated among the bubbles. The pounding in his head was receding, and he was no longer nauseous, the vertigo having worn off sometime within his and Alejandro’s conversation. He smiled, and watched as Alejandro let out a pleased hum.

“I’m alright.” He sighed, and tilted his head back, swishing his hand around in the bubbles. He still had no plans of getting out of the bath, and he was pretty sure that Alejandro had no plans of leaving him by himself anytime soon. The thought made his smile grow even wider, and he glanced across to look at Alejandro again, who, he found, was still looking at him. “Tell me about your day, distract me , like you said you would?”

The smile that played on Alejandro’s lips was nothing short of glowing, and Christ , Noah knew what adoration felt like; this was something else.

It had to be the delirium.

“Well, my dear Noah, it was not very interesting until you texted me-” Alejandro started, and seriously , Noah thought, I’d listen to him speak forever. I don’t want him to leave.

—

As it turns out, Noah was right about his plans to get out of the bath. He was so right, in fact, that he only managed to drag himself out at 9pm, six hours after Alejandro had shown up at his house. He had periodically re-filled the bath with more scalding hot water, and while in most circumstances he would have usually sat in the bath by himself, drifting from silence to scattered conversation with himself, today…

…Today Alejandro had sat with him the entire time.

He had listened to him talk about his day, the qualms he had with his professors and the subjects he was taking. He had laughed as the other boy complained about the lack of work being graded, and had enthusiastically asked him as many questions as he could think of in an attempt to quiz him on the content of his classes. Alejandro had listened to him as he talked about the Gemmies, scattering his opinions on the organisation and nodding along when he started to drift towards the topic of work in general, rather than just the event.

And Noah hadn’t said anything about a plus one, but he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe …

He had only gotten out of the bath when his stomach was rumbling too loudly for either of them to ignore, and only then did Alejandro whisk himself out of the bathroom to heat them both up some soup. Noah had dizzily made his way into the living room after spending just a little bit too long changing for his liking, (His head was still aching, and he was so tired he was seeing spots) And then he had dropped, exhausted, onto one of the kitchen stools next to Alejandro, who passed him a bowl of still-steaming pumpkin soup.

It smelt good, really good , and it was all Noah could to to pick up the spoon and begin quietly eating it

They ate in silence, a warm, comfortable silence he was starting to love, and it wasn’t until both of them had pushed their empty plates away that Alejandro cleared his throat.

It tasted good, too.

“Thankyou for having me.” Alejandro murmured, and Noah’s heart sank in his chest. Christ, it was stupid , but he didn’t actually want him to leave, and despite how much better he felt, he still hadn't talked to him about what Chrios had told him to talk about. “Even in spite of your stress-induced illness.”

At this, Noah let out a small chuckle, and he leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbow on the counter, and his chin on his hand. But he frowned, only lightly, and looked across at Alejandro. The tips of his hair were wet, and his cheeks were flushed, from eating the hot soup or from sitting for six full hours in a room filled with steam. He didn’t want him to leave.

“You should come around more often.” He said, seemingly before his brain could catch up with his mouth. It was the exhaustio n, he thought, the delirium , as he watched Alejandro’s lips twitch upwards further. He could feel his face grow warm. “You make me feel better, you know?”

He didn’t want him to leave . But at that, Alejandro stood from his seat, and gracefully swept up both of the plates, placing them into the sink and filling them with water to soak. He was about to leave, and as the other boy reached across the counter to pull his bag – a tote bag that looked suspiciously like one he had seen Gwen carrying around  – towards him, Noah furrowed his eyebrows, and a thought struck him.

“...How’d you get here?” He raised an eyebrow, and Alejandro paused, glancing towards him from the other side of the counter. “I thought you didn’t have a licence”

There were a few seconds of silence, Alejandro seemingly contemplating what his response would be, before he let out a small cough, and tilted his head.

“I took the bus.” He hummed, and Noah furrowed his eyebrows even further. In response, Alejandro held up his hands in mock surrender. “Public transportation is a very useful, government-funded enterprise.”

Noah blinked.

“You seriously took a bus over here to see me?” He muttered, and something in Alejandro’s gaze grew soft… He had taken a bus to his apartment to see him, despite the fact that Alejandro very notably did not enjoy taking the bus. He couldn’t help the way his lips twitched upwards, and the way his stomach flipped in his chest, and-

-And buses stopped running frequently in the direction of Alejandro’s house at eight pm; Judging by where he lived, he had probably taken at least two buses to get to his apartment, so… Jesus, it would take him hours to get home at this time of night.

…And he knew that; Noah stared at him, and watched, his face twisting into a look of concern as Alejandro averted his gaze. He knew that he would have to catch at least two buses at nine o’clock at night in order to get back home, and all because he wanted to see him? Because he wanted to comfort him when he was sick? 

Jesus Christ.

“Let me drive you home.” He eventually spoke when Alejandro didn’t respond. At this, however, it was the other boy’s turn to frown, and he shook his head, stepping around the counter to look at him properly.

“You’re sick, Noah-” He started, but Noah shook his head.

“No, you- you came all the way out here to see me, and-”

And a thought struck him.

If Alejandro didn’t want him to drive him home, and since he really didn’t want him to take the bus home at nine o’clock at night… then-

“...You could stay over?” He cut himself off, and quietly, with as much grace as he could muster, (Which was not a lot), he slid off the stool and took a step towards him. “Then you wouldn’t have to take the bus home, and I wouldn’t have to drive you.”

Alejandro blinked, and Noah watched as a flash of consideration crossed his features. He looked like he was thinking about it, and after a few moments, his shoulders seemed to relax, and his gaze softened. He felt like he was about to melt.

“You wouldn’t mind?” He murmured, and almost before he could finish, Noah shook his head.

“I want you to, Alejandro.” He replied. “I probably have shirts that fit you, and seriously, I could drive you home in the morning.”

Noah didn’t quite know what he was going to say, but to his relief, Alejandro nodded, and he felt his heartbeat pick up, if only a little bit, when the other boy smiled. He looked, genuinely, almost as relieved as he felt, and Noah was pretty sure he was right about how daunting he would find the bus route. He couldn't blame him; he wouldn’t want to take the bus home right now either.

Alejandro smiled, and glanced back towards the couch in the living room.

“...Then I suppose I have no choice.” He hummed, amusement evident in his tone as Noah smiled, and leaned against the counter. He was stiff, his bones still ached, even if it was only a fraction of before. “You do have a very comfortable looking couch.”

…Ah.

A misstep.

Noah wasn't entirely sure what he had assumed, but a small part of him, the delirious part of him that felt like it was about to pass out from exhaustion, had assumed that his invitation to stay had implied an invitation to stay… with him .

In his bed, perhaps.

He could feel his face start to warm, only slightly, as he looked up at Alejandro. The other boy was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to smile, or chuckle along with him, or something , but Noah couldn’t manage to get anything out. Anything, except for a murmured, mesmerised;

“-My bed’s comfortable too. It’s a queen.”

It was entirely audible, spoken with the unearned confidence of a man on too much medication. It wasn’t until the words had left his mouth that he realised what he had said, so he stood, staring tiredly across at Alejandro, with slowly widening eyes and an almost comical look of shock on his face.

“...What do you mean?” Alejandro muttered back, and there was nothing Noah could do to stop the following words from falling out of his mouth like floodgates opening for the first time in a century.

“I mean, you could sleep with me, in my bed-” He breathed, much more quietly than his previous statement, but nonetheless, as Alejandro took a small step towards him, still as clear and unwavering as before. “It’s probably more comfortable than the couch.”

There were a few moments of silence as Alejandro stared at him, and Noah could practically feel himself crumbling into oblivion. Why had he said that? Why had he said that? Jesus Christ, he didn’t want him to leave, but if anything was going to make Alejandro run for the hills it was going to be this. He should have refused his offer for company earlier, because he was just making a fool of himself at this-

“...Okay.”

Noah blinked, and to his surprise, Alejandro was looking across at him with an expression so filled with warmth that any and all anxiety hiding away in the crevices of his bones seemed to melt away. He looked happy, content, pleased at the proposition.

He couldn’t help the smile that grew across his face.

“Okay?” He hummed, and Alejandro nodded, a glint in his eyes that made Noah shiver.

“Okay.”

The next ten minutes went by in a flash; Alejandro had stayed in the kitchen and cleaned the bowls while Noah hauled himself up to his bedroom and rifled through his draws for a shirt he thought would fit the other boy. Rather quickly, due to his tendency to buy oversized clothing when online shopping, he had found a band-shirt that he hadn’t worn recently, (Radiohead; it was a gift from Trent, a part of his master plan to get him to enjoy his music), and had almost fallen down the short flight of steps.

Alejandro had gone into the bathroom to shower and change after practically shoving Noah back up the stairs again, insisting that he would only take a moment and would definitely be able to figure out where his room was, and in response, Noah had practically collapsed into bed, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh as his head hit the pillow.

What a day .

He had changed his sheets the night before, and the fabric felt almost impossibly soft beneath his skin. He could hear the faint humming of cars from the window he hadn’t closed three days ago, and faintly, he could hear the sound of the shower running, and the gentle sound of somebody’s footsteps on tile. It was comforting, knowing that there was somebody there, somebody who would be sleeping next to him in less than half an hour.

…Alejandro was going to be sleeping in his bed, with him , in less than half an hour.

What a day .

The thought sent a thrill up his spine, and he let out a hum. He could imagine that three weeks ago, the thought of Alejandro simply stepping into his house would have thrown him into a blind rage, or if not a blind rage, then a bout of shock-horror that he wouldn’t be able to extinguish for at least a few days. But now, the thought didn’t provoke nearly the same reaction.

Truly, he didn’t get to think about it very much, before the sound of footsteps began to echo up the stairs, and he snapped his eyes open just as the door was gently pushed forward. He must have fallen asleep, if only momentarily, and he watched, exhausted, as Alejandro slipped into the room, and like he belonged there, dropped gracefully into the bed next to him.

There were a few moments of silence, the only sound being the faint roaring of cars out of the window. They simply… stared at each other, neither turning their backs away. Jesus, they were so close that Noah could feel Alejandro’s breath fanning across his cheeks… He had a queen bed, there was enough space for them to stay on their own respective sides. After a while, Noah couldn’t hold back his yawns anymore, and Alejandro let out a small snort in response.

“You’re feeling better, I presume?” He hummed, and Noah rolled onto his back, tearing his eyes away from Alejandro and letting out a groan. If he looked at him right now, he would say something he probably shouldn’t say.

Something about Icarus, something about plus-ones, something about devotion, or delirium.

“Jesus, I feel like I’ve just had an exorcism.” He groaned, and grinned as Alejandro started to laugh. “I’m serious! Everything aches like a great evil’s been expelled from my body or something.”

“Many people do believe that a bath cleans the inside of a soul as well as the outside of a body.” Alejandro chuckled, and when Noah snorted, raising his arms above his head and cracking his shoulders, he continued. “But I assume that means something positive?”

Noah sighed, and nodded.

“‘ Now that the evil is gone, the body will have time to heal ’ or whatever. I’ll be good to go in the morning.” He mused, earning another snort and a rustle of fabric from the other boy. When he glanced to the side, he could see that Alejandro was lying on his back, the covers draped lazily across him. He was wearing his shirt, and Noah could see that it actually fit him pretty well… He looked good in the dimness of his bedroom.

He hadn’t closed the windows or the blinds, so the faint light of the moon and stars shone in like a lamp, bathing Alejandro’s face in light and surrounding him in darkness. If he were a little bit more awake, then maybe he would be able to appreciate the symbolism… Or was it the irony? He didn’t remember, he was tired .

“That’s good.” Alejandro smiled, and Noah closed his eyes with a slow, relaxed breath. He could hear the sound of the other boy breathing next to him, and if he paid attention, he could feel the warmth radiating off his skin like a space heater. For a few moments, he thought that Alejandro wasn’t going to say anything else, but he sniffed, and Noah blinked his eyes open when he spoke again. “Are you going to Bridgette’s movie night? I know you have to go to you-know-what on the Monday afterwards, so I was wondering if you were planning on attending.”

The movie night - Noah thought, and he raised an eyebrow. He had planned on going, and taking the remainder of the weekend to psych himself up for the Gemmies trip. Was Alejandro going?

“Yeah, I think so.” He hummed, and Alejandro’s lips twitched upwards. “I think Izzy would drag me there even if I said no, y’know? I’m hoping that it’s going to, er, prepare me , or something, for the next week of hell… Why, are you going?”

Alejandro let out a snort, and rolled around to face him properly again. Noah didn’t move, but he did tilt his head properly to the side so that he was gazing in his direction, gazing at his irises as they seemed to dance in the faint moonlight. At the sound of Noah’s confirmation, Alejandro seemed to perk up, and he nodded with a half-smile, half-grimace, sending a thrill through Noah’s bones.

“When Heather received the invitation she asked if it could be extended to me, if possible, and much to my surprise, Bridgette and Geoff both said yes.” He mused, the cheerful, calm expression on his face giving way to one of vague worry. “She’s insisting on bringing me, so you coming would practically be a blessing.”

Alejandro’s confirmed presence at the movie made him bite the inside of his cheek, and he tried to sink further into the mattress as he gazed at him

That being said, this, besides dinner last Saturday, and assuming that Noah hadn’t misread any information, would be the first time Alejandro would see any of the Total Drama cast in months … He could definitely understand the anxiety the other was probably feeling, especially considering the effect he had had on several of the contestants, and the many relationships he had left behind on the plane.

“Are you worried about it?” He hummed, and when Alejandro averted his gaze to the mattress below them, Noah gently reached out to rest a hand next to the other boys; an invitation, a reassurance. “I get that… But hey, everybody likes Heather, and she was awful on the show.”

“...Heather told the truth; everybody knew what she was like.” He mumbled, and gently took Noah’s hand in his. He squeezed it gently, and let out a sigh. “I believe that I lied too much for any of them to be comfortable having me around.”

“Alejandro-” He started, but the other boy simply groaned in frustration.

“And, not everybody likes Heather, truly, i was told-”

He was doing the same thing that Noah had a tendency to do; disappear into his own head and forget that the outside world was there. He frowned, and rolled over to look at him.

“Dude, you-”

“And while I do wish i had stayed in vague contact with a few other contestants, I do not believe they wished they had stayed in contact with me- ”

“Alejandro, I like you.” Noah frowned, squeezing Alejandro’s hand in his and gently kicking him underneath the covers. With a start, Alejandro stopped, and he snapped his gaze up to look at him, eyes squinting and mouth clamped shut. “ I like having you around, I'm comfortable spending time with you, and so’s Heather, and Gwen, and Owen and Izzy and Cody and- dude, you’ve made amends with a bunch of us, it doesn’t matter what you did on the show.”

Alejandro opened his mouth like he was about to say something in response, maybe a protest, but he simply closed his eyes with a sigh.

The truth was, Noah really did like Alejandro in spite of what he had done on the show. The scars on his back, his inability to take the elevator, hell , the nervousness he felt surrounding the Gemmies… It didn’t really feel like it mattered anymore, especially with the person he would’ve called his mortal enemy only a month ago, lying next to him in his bed.

“If the worst comes to worst, just hang around me all evening.” He added, and it managed to elicit a small, tiny chuckle from the boy in front of him.

“...Thankyou.” He mumbled, but he let out another sigh, and Noah continued to frown. “I simply… I do not think that if I had competed against myself in the competition, I would be able to forgive or forget my actions.”

Noah didn’t quite know what to say, so he simply shuffled closer, letting out a sigh of his own.

He had spent such a long time resenting Alejandro, such a long time thinking that he was the devil incarnate, the Theseus that left him stranded on the journey back to Crete. He had spent such a long time thinking about all of the things he had done to wrong him, that simply seeing him in an environment he hadn’t expected to see him in had short-circuited his brain and sent him spiralling.

But he had forgiven him anyway.

He had forgiven him for pushing him out of the plane, he had forgiven him for stranding him on the isle of Naxos, he had forgiven him for things he hadn’t even done.

God, he still wanted to kiss him.

“If I can forgive you, then anyone can.” He hummed. It was quiet, barely audible in the silent room, yet he had no doubt that Alejandro had heard it. “They’ll love you, I promise.”

Alejandro’s hand was soft, no healed-over callouses, no chips in his nails, simply a long-since healed-over scar stretched over the back of his palm. Noah hadn’t noticed it before, and as he ran his thumb across it absentmindedly, a tired yawn managed to escape his lips. He wondered how Alejandro had ended up with the scar on the back of his hand, and for that matter, the scar running down the side of his throat as well

It probably had something to do with Total Drama; everybody had a scar-story about Total Drama, and he couldn’t think of a reason why the boy in front of him could be exempt, especially considering how far he had gotten in the final season.

As if reading his mind, Alejandro blinked his eyes languidly, and let out a quiet hum.

“Easter Island.” He murmured, and Noah raised a tired eyebrow. “I slipped on a rock while climbing the pillar. I believe they cut the footage out of the episode.”

“Ah.” Noah hummed, and nodded. The network had had a tendency to cut out most of the ‘serious’ injuries the contestants had received while on the show – His concussion during the London challenge, Tyler’s dislocated shoulder in Greece, Bridgette’s actual frostbite in the Yukon – the only exceptions being the kind of injuries they thought they could use for interesting content – Sierra’s numerous injuries in the finale, Heather’s missing tooth, Owen and Izzy getting crushed by the plane in Jamaica, and practically everything that happened with Gwen – “That makes sense, but it still sucks. I heard a lot about Easter Island, didn’t Cody get that wicked concussion?”

“Mhm, They told us it was the third worst of the season.”

“The third worst?” Noah yawned, and Alejandro smiled, squeezing his hand again. “Izzy’s was first, wasn’t she, who was the second? Owen?”

“You, in London.” He hummed, and Noah felt, at the same time, a jolt of fear shoot up his spine and a feeling of warmth fill his stomach. “Headfirst into a double-decker bus, the med team said it was rather impressive.”

Him ? Second worst of the season? If that wasn’t as worrying as it was, then he would almost be impressed. On one hand, he didn’t realise how bad the concussion had been until he was eliminated, the adrenaline of the new challenge carrying him through to the finish line, but on the other hand, with the sheer amount of concussions that people had received on the show, second-worst was something to be borderline-proud of.

So he couldn’t help the quiet snort that escaped him as Alejandro smiled, and he chuckled tiredly as the boy in front of him nodded his head.

“Jesus, that’s not good.” He smiled, and it was Alejandro’s turn to chuckle. “They should’ve pulled me out of the challenge, there was so much thinking to do.”

And I made some interesting decisions; chose an interesting choice of words. He thought, leaving the implication of left unsaid as Alejandro let out a sigh.

“Two thirds of the contestants were ill, injured, or mentally unwell for the majority of the challenges, it’s a miracle nobody died .” He hummed, and punctuated the end of his sentence with a light chuckle.

Noah groaned, and closed his eyes.

“Amen.” He breathed, and tried to bury himself further into the bed. He wanted to know if Alejandro had any other scars, and he wanted to know what had caused the one running down the side of his throat. He was also too tired to think of a clever way to ask about it. “Have you got any more Total Drama scars?”

He wasn’t looking at Alejandro, but he could feel as the other boy’s breath fanned across his cheeks. It smelt like mint; Noah had given him a spare toothbrush when he told him to shower.

“There’s one on my hip from the episode Heather, Cody and I needed to get to Hawaii. I fell off the train, and there were rocks on the ground… It’s not quite as obvious as the one on my hand, but it’s still very much there… And there’s the one on my collarbone, which I'm sure you’ve already noticed.”

His voice was low and quiet, as if, like himself, he was fighting sleep trying to enter his mind. Noah moved his hand, the one not currently intertwined with Alejandro’s, to the loose collar of the other boy’s shirt.

“Can I look?” He murmured, and upon blinking his eyes open, Alejandro nodded. Gently, he pulled at the collar of his shirt until the long, white scar was exposed to the faint light of the moon. It was clean, almost like whatever had caused it had been purposeful, and if not purposeful, an extremely fortunate accident. It wasn’t quite smooth, but it was long-healed, and Noah had to resist the urge to run his finger along it. “...What happened ?”

There were a few moments of silence before Alejandro spoke again.

“It was the volcano.” He hummed, the words coming out almost like a confession as Noah watched him. “There was a, uh, mistake with the stunt, and while I landed where I needed to land, I ended up tumbling into a pile of stray equipment… I was alright otherwise, but I didn’t notice the cut until I reached the hotel room that Chris had dumped us in.”

He knew that Total Drama stunts had a historically bad track record, but Jesus , this just seemed irresponsible. Alejandro didn’t seem too affected by it, simply staring at him as he kept his eyes on the scar running along his collarbone. Now, he couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch it, so with shaking hands, he brought his thumb to run gently across the scar.

“That’s… so fucked up.” He murmured, and his gaze flicked up to meet Alejandro’s. The other boy was looking at him like he was the only person in the world. “You went to the hospital, right?”

“Mhm, I received several tetanus shots.” He hummed, and smiled. “ And several stitches.”

Noah couldn’t help but chuckle at the humorous tone in the other boy’s voice, and he pulled his hand away with a sigh.

“That’s good, that’s really good-” He murmured, but his words were cut off by a yawn escaping from his lips. At this, Alejandro let out a tired chuckle, and he couldn’t help the smile that twitched onto his face at the sound of it.

“Do you have any more Total Drama scars?” Alejandro mused, and Noah let out a contemplative sigh.

He had quite a few; some more noticeable than others, but enough for him to recognise the reality-tv running through his veins and across his skin whenever he looked in the mirror.

“I do.” He hummed, and Alejandro raised an eyebrow in return. “Courtney hit me in the head with a glass when we were at Playa Des Losers back in season one, and there’s a tiny scar on my forehead where the glass broke.”

It was Alejandro’s turn to reach out, and with an un-calloused hand, he gently pushed back a piece of his hair and trailed his eyes down his forehead. He could admit that the scar wasn’t actually that tiny, but he had examined it in the mirror so many times that he barely noticed it anymore. It had also been there when Alejandro had first met him, so he wasn’t surprised when Alejandro simply let out a hum, a signal to continue.

Alejandro’s fingers felt cool against his already warm face, and he leant into the touch, only slightly, as he continued.

“There are permanent scrapes on my knees from where Eva tripped me in the briefcase episode, and there are the laser burns from Paris on my ankles.” He mused, and Alejandro moved his hand down to Noah’s cheek. He shivered. “There are a couple of dog bites from that time I was attacked by corgi’s in the confessional, and there are- uh, there are the eel scars.”

He almost whispered the last bit, his voice fading as Alejandro’s fingers trailed down his jawline, and, with so much care he thought he was going to melt, drew a gentle line down the side of his neck.

Delirium.

For a few moments, neither of them said anything, but as Alejandro’s thumbs brushed against his collarbones, against the tips of the scars running along his skin, the other boy let out a soft, quiet hum.

“...Can I see the eel scars?” Alejandro murmured, and oh . His voice was as soft as down and as careful as one might be with a crying loved one; There was a look in his eyes, a tenderness, a curiousness, that made Noah feel like turning to putty in his hands, made him want to sink into the mattress like the ocean. “...It’s alright if you’re not okay with that, Noah.”

Noah was okay with it, he would be okay with anything if he asked him like that.

“...Sure.” He breathed, and with a long, deep breath, he sat up, and slowly pulled his shirt over his shoulders. With slightly less care, he tossed it over to the side table sitting next to his bed and dropped his head back down onto the pillow, shifting so that he had his back to the other boy. “Here.”

He wasn’t insecure about the scars or anything, in fact, the majority of people who had actually seen them – Gwen, Cody, Izzy, Owen, and Eva. – had told him they looked pretty cool. (He trusted their word enough to believe them.) Gwen and Cody in particular had told him they looked kind of like the scars you get when you were struck by lightning, and when he next looked in the mirror, he had decided they were right.

So no, he wasn’t insecure, but there was something about the gentle way that Alejandro’s fingers moved to trail down the line of scars, the way the drifted from his shoulders down to his waist with a careful grace he could remember feeling elsewhere, that made him want to drown .

Drown in a sea of salt water, feel his wings dragging him deeper and deeper into the ocean with a knowing, a comprehension that he had let it happen. He wanted to drift off like Icarus, he wanted to feel the sun on his back and fall from the sky.

“Do they hurt?” Alejandro murmured after what seemed like an eternity of silence. Noah shook his head, and gently rolled around so that they were face to face again, and so that the other boy could see the scars littering his chest.

“Sometimes.” He hummed, and Alejandro’s eyebrows furrowed, only slightly, as he watched him. His gaze trailed down from his eyes to his lips, then from his lips to his collar bones, then from his collarbones down to his torso; Noah watched one of his hands drift down and eventually settle gently on his waist, where he traced his thumb over a line of scarring on his stomach. “But not enough to bother me, y’know? It only gets bad during weeks like these.”

“Because of the Gemmies?” Alejandro raised an eyebrow, and Noah nodded. With Alejandro’s hand on his waist, the typical jolt of anxiety that shot up his spine at the mention of the Gemmies… it simply didn’t appear, and with a soft, quiet blink, Noah realised something.

“Yeah.” He hummed. “Because of the Gemmies.”

Alejandro made him feel softer, warmer, less like falling apart.

The boy in front of him let out a hum, and a smile made its way onto his face as Noah blinked tiredly. He was illuminated by the light from the window, and he could see his eyes practically sparkling.

“If there’s anything I can do to make those weeks less stressful for you then I’ll do it.” Alejandro murmured, and ran his hand up the side of Noah’s waist.

He could feel himself, his wings , melting under the touch, and he let out a small, contemplative hum.

…The worst he could say was no.

“...There might be something you can do.” Noah hummed, the words only tumbling out of his mouth after a few moments of hesitation. “But I don’t think you’ll want to do it, and you definitely don’t need to do it.”

Alejandro raised another eyebrow, and hummed.

“Well, what is it?” He murmured, and Noah took a breath; a long, deep breath that he could feel in his stomach. Alejandro’s fingers were still soft, still touching him.

“You can say no.” He began, managing to keep his voice at a steady, quiet level as he spoke. “I won’t think about you any differently if you say no, not at all, but-”

“ Noah .” Alejandro hummed, a smile on his face as he spoke. The smile gracing his lips made Noah smile in turn, and he sighed in vague defeat. The worst he could say was no, and the more he thought about it… Well, the more he thought that Alejandro saying no to him was something borderline impossible.

“...They said I could bring a plus-one to the Gemmies, and I was thinking that maybe, uh, maybe you’d like to go with me.” He spoke, fluttering his eyes closed, and then immediately opening them again to watch Alejandro’s reaction. “It's pretty much a week-long holiday, except for the awards night, but other than that it’s basically like a free week in Vancouver. Your ticket’ll be paid for and everything, and you’ll miss some classes but i’ll pay for-”

“I thought the Gemmies were held in Toronto?” Alejandro interrupted, his eyebrows raised in confusion.

Noah didn’t quite know what to say.

“...They change it up every year.” He answered, and with a confused blink, he hummed. “Last year was Montreal, the year before that was Vancouver… So on, I guess.”

There were a few more moments of silence, of consideration, and Noah could feel himself drifting off to sleep, when Alejandro sniffed, and his eyes snapped open once again. The other boy’s expression was warm, a smile gracing his lips, and eyes shining in the gentle outside light.

“Noah, I'd go anywhere for you, Of course i’ll come, if that’s what you wish.” He hummed, and Noah breathed out in vague, warm relief.

“Seriously?” He breathed, and gently, Alejandro pressed his thumb reassuringly into the skin of Noah’s waist. 

“ Seriously ; anything for you, my dear.”

Anything for you, my dear.

If Alejandro were to move his hand up to his throat, his chest, or even across to his wrists, then there was no doubt he would be able to feel the way his heartbeat, his pulse, sped up at the words he spoke. He could feel his face warming, and with a tired sigh, he draped his hand across to where Alejandro’s other wrist was resting, and he closed his eyes.

“You’re wonderful.” He murmured, his voice muffled as he moved to press his face into the pillow. “Thank you, I adore you.”

He heard a chuckle, and as he quickly began to drift into sleep, he felt a hand take his, and a thumb gently caress the base of his wrist.

Delirium.

“It’s no problem.” Alejandro’s voice spoke, distant and warm in his ears. “It’ll never be a problem for you.”

With one of Alejandro’s hands on his waist and the other intertwined with his own, Noah could feel himself losing consciousness. It had been a long day, a long week , and tangled in bed with the other boy, he could finally feel the stress slipping off his shoulders and fading into the night air. His muscles didn’t ache as they did before, his bones didn’t feel stiff and confined in his skin, his head didn’t hurt like a bird was pecking at his brain…

He felt warm, he felt safe, he felt okay.

He was okay.

Chapter Text

Friday, 6:32am. | One week, twelve hours, twenty eight minutes until movie night.

There’s a breeze coming through the window; he can feel the fresh air on the back of his neck and he can hear the sound of passing cars weaving through the streets.

He could also hear the sound of breathing… breathing from somebody who wasn’t him. Come to think of it, amid the early-morning brain-fog, he could feel a pressure on his forehead and an arm draped across waist.

Alejandro was still in his bed.

Alejandro was still in his bed.

Noah snapped his eyes open, and as carefully as he could, lifted his head and blinked. From what he could see, which wasn’t much, one of Alejandro’s arms was draped over his waist, and the other was resting under his head, his hand brushing the back of his hair. He was practically buried in Alejandro's chest, breathing in the smell of his skin and resting his forehead against the fabric of the shirt he had lent him.

He was still shirtless, yet while he would typically be freezing cold, he was warm, he was comfortable.

Noah could imagine that they looked like two lovers intertwined after a long night of hardship, two halves of one soul, the sun and the stars dancing together up in the sky… That didn’t make any sense; it was, judging by the cold breeze on the back of his neck and the volume of cars he could hear, early in the morning, and since he was banished from the office, far too early for him to be thinking about metaphor right now.

And besides, Alejandro was warm; he could feel his chest rising gently against his cheek, and as he lowered his head again, Alejandro shuffled gently to run his hand through his hair with a long, unconscious sigh.

It was early in the morning, there was no harm in going back to sleep.

—

Friday, 11:14am. | One week, seven hours, forty six hours until movie night.

…They didn’t talk about it.

Actually, they didn’t talk about anything.

When Noah had woken up for the second time, he had woken up to an otherwise-empty bed, which had, admittedly, disappointed him. That disappointment had jumped out of the window, however, when he realised he could hear the sound of a pan sizzling, and eggs cooking on the stove. He had hauled himself slowly out from under the covers, quickly slid his shirt back over his shoulders, and bounced down the stairs to the kitchen.

He almost hated to admit it, but he felt 10x better than he had the night before.

When rounding the corner, he had been met with the sight of Alejandro at the stovetop, swishing scrambled eggs around in a pan and humming something to himself that Noah couldn’t recognise. When Alejandro had turned around, he had looked at him with the fondest, widest smile that Noah had ever seen, and it was all he could do to start boiling the kettle for coffee without melting into the floorboards.

…But they hadn’t talked about the night before.

Actually, when Noah had settled down into one of the stools opposite the counter, he realised that they hadn’t talked about the one thing he wanted to talk about last night; they hadn’t talked about what Alejandro wanted to gain from reconnecting with him, and he was starting to realise he didn’t know what he wanted to gain by reconnecting with Alejandro. Sure, they had practically wrapped their arms around each other and tied themselves together like a ribbon… But Noah didn’t entirely know what that meant

The rational part of him could feel it; he could feel it in the way Alejandro gently slid him a plate of eggs and toast with that warm, genuine smile of his. He could feel it in the way Alejandro pulled the kettle towards the coffee pot. He could feel it in the way his skin still tingled with the lingering sensation of electric eels and Alejandro’s touch; the two almost indistinguishable in his early morning, fuzzy mind.

In all of that, he could feel something more than friendship, something more akin to longing festering under their skin.

But the sceptical part of him, the part of him that hadn’t forgotten about Total Drama despite his insistence last night that he had, was confused. He could imagine that Alejandro had just slept with him the night before because he felt bad, or because he wanted to make him feel better without actually feeling any of the implications of what he was doing. He could imagine that Heather had said something to him about comfort, and he was just doing what he was told.

He wanted to ask him what it meant, because despite how much he prides himself on his intelligence, even the smartest minds can falter when it comes to… Love? This isn't love. Even the smartest minds can falter when it comes to the overwhelming tension of a friendship reunited.

However, he wasn’t in a very talkative mood, and it seemed like Alejandro wasn’t either. In fact, the only words spoken between them that morning were initiated by him;

“Hey, were you serious about coming to the Gemmies?” Noah hummed, glancing across at him as Alejandro gently placed the used kitchenware in the dishwasher.

“Of course I was, I'm a man of my word.” Alejandro replied, shooting him a smile as he stood back up again and brushed a stray piece of hair out of his eyes.

“...Cool, I’ll send you the details.” He smiled back, and rested his cheek on his hand.

It was nice.

When Alejandro had left the apartment, he had taken his hands in his own, just like he had last Saturday, and gently pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles. Noah hadn’t quite known how to respond, so he had simply watched as Alejandro closed the door behind him, and listened to his footsteps retreat down the hallway.

…That was nicer.

—

Friday, 11:30am. | One week, seven hours, thirty minutes until movie night.

When one thinks of the sun, one’s first thought might be about its warmth; the thought might be about the feeling of the ultraviolet casting down onto your skin, it might be about the accompanying blue sky and lush green grass. One might think about the beach, summer, ice pops on a 30 degree day.

When one thinks of the sun, one will typically think of something positive.

When Noah looks in the mirror, he doesn’t quite feel like the sun.

He doesn’t feel like his smile brightens the room like Alejandro’s, and he doesn’t feel like his laugh makes people warmer, like Gwen’s. He doesn’t feel like he exudes the warm, glowing energy that the sun gives off, not like Izzy, or Owen, or anybody else he’s associated with the sun in his lifetime. He doesn’t quite feel like he’s capable of it, like he’d ever be capable of it in the same way his friends are.

When the sun isn’t the welcoming, loving star many perceive it to be, it’s still brilliant. It’s still bright as it burns holes in the ozone layer, it’s still scorching the construction workers that build skyscrapers and hot metal roofs. It still blazes in the sky, hot, present, and overbearing as it rots fallen fruit in farmers orchards; you can’t miss it when it harshly reflects off of new paving, almost blinding against the white concrete. Even when the sun isn’t nice, it’s still so present you can’t help but notice it, can’t help but cringe if you look directly into it.

And Noah has a lot of self-deprecating tendencies, but he can’t say he feels very much like that, either.

Because when he looks at himself in the mirror, he can see the dark circles under his eyes. He can see the scars peeking up from beneath his shirt and the way his eyes don’t dart across his reflective image with any sense of urgency. When a hand moves to run through his hair, it does so languidly, like it’s an effort to stretch his fingers out from his fists. He can see the wrinkles in his shirt and the unkemptness of his hair, he can see the hairbrush on the side of the sink, but he makes no move to grab it.

He sees himself in the mirror, his reflection raw and unfiltered; and he has no idea what Alejandro means when he says that he’s like the sun.

—

Friday, 6:34pm. | Seven days, thirty four minutes until movie night.

Alejandro’s visit had left him feeling warm, perplexed, a little bit anxious, and just a tiny bit angry; He hadn’t succeeded in talking to him about what he wanted to talk to him about, he had, for some reason , asked him to sleep in his bed with him, and, while he was sleeping in said bed with him , he had taken off his shirt to let him run his hands down his back in a manner that was definitely not entirely platonic.

Not entirely platonic, not entirely unwelcome, not entirely settling-

Jesus, he didn’t know what he was supposed to be thinking right now, so when there was a quick, urgent knock at his door, he had leaped off the couch in an instant (He had definitely not been sitting on the couch all day and looking at his phone. No, he was totally not.), and practically slid to glance through the peephole. Through it, he could see Gwen, a large, beaming smile on her face and a sizable plastic bag in her hands.

…That was what Noah would call the sun.

“What do you have?” He hummed through the door, and watched as Gwens smile only grew wider.

“Nacho’s and wine! Let me in, Noah, I know you wanna hear about how lunch went… I also wanna hear how you’ve been doing, especially considering your guest last night.”

Her voice was clear, gleeful and warm, an undertone of teasing as she stepped back and held the bag up to the door. On one hand, he did want to know how much went; he could assume well, considering how much she was smiling, but on the other hand, she already knew about Alejandro’s impromptu visit. That meant that it had either spread through the Total Drama Gossip Chain already, or that she had been texting Heather, and her relationship with Heather- well, he wasn’t entirely sure if that was something he should bring up.

Truthfully, he was a little bit annoyed that Gwen hadn’t told him about Heather. They were practically best friends, and she had listened to countless of his anti-Alejandro tyrades over the course of the last year without thinking to tell him that the two of them were in regular contact… The thought made him want to chew on the inside of his cheek. He also wasn’t sure that he wanted to talk about Alejandro’s visit… But he knew that if he didn’t want to, Gwen wouldn’t make him.

…He also really wanted to hear how the lunch went.

So he opened the door with a sigh, and gestured for her to come inside.

“What if I had guests over, huh? What if, uh , what if Chris had dropped by for dinner?” He shook his head disappointedly as Gwen snorted, and toed off her shoes. They were boots, a new pair that he remembered her buying just before he met Alejandro for the first time again.

“If Chris had dropped by for dinner then you would have been complaining in at least one group chat.” She hummed, and glanced at him as she held out the plastic bag. “Also, I texted Heather, who told me Alejandro was home… He was the one I didn’t want to walk in on, or, well, you two as a unit weren’t the ones I wanted to walk in on.”

Noah wrinkled his nose in feigned-disgust as he began to walk towards the kitchen, taking the plastic bag in his hand and beginning to rummage through it.

“Gross, I don’t like what you’re implying.” He drawled, and Gwen gleefully hurried after him, spinning around him and sliding across the exposed strips of wooden flooring until she was leaning against the bench.

She truly looked happier- well, more energetic, really, than Noah had seen her in months, and while it put a smile on his face, and made a warm, tingling feeling grow in his stomach when he looked at her… He couldn’t help but think about Heather. Had Gwen and Heather had the type of relationship where she wanted to fall giddily onto someone's couch and tell them about her day? Had she done that with someone else? If so, who? Alejandro?

If she had felt like this with Heather, why had she given up on her? Hold on, that sounded way more dramatic than Noah intended it to be in his head- He didn’t know anything about Gwen and Heather’s relationship, so who was he to-

He didn’t know anything about Gwen and Heather’s relationship because Gwen hadn’t told him anything; he had to find out through observation, and confirmation from Alejandro .

…That thought made him sour.

And it was obvious that Gwen could see the change of expression on his face, because the smile gracing her lips lessened, and she tilted her head in concern.

“...Are you alright?” She murmured, and gestured back towards the door with a knowing look. “I’m sorry I just kind of dropped in, If you want to be by yourself I totally-”

“Ugh, do not pretend you’re not welcome here whenever you want.” Noah sighed, rolling his eyes with a teasing grin as he shook off the worry from his conscience. Gwen probably had her reasons, reasons that she would tell him one day. Also; he really wanted to eat the nachos she brought with her. “This apartment is basically yours, too. Let’s eat, yeah?”

Gwen paused, and he thought he saw a flash of suspicion cross her expression… But she brightened up again, and nodded, pulling one of the take-out boxes and the bottle of wine from the bag, and sweeping towards his couch.

“Yes, let's.” She grinned, and Noah shook his head with a smile.

She was definitely more like the sun than him; he could see it in the way she moved, the way her lips quirked up into a smile and the way her eyes lit up like a star when she was happy.

She was sun-like, he was not.

That being said, Noah practically forgot about the sun the moment she started talking; The two were curled up, side by side, on Noah’s couch, paper bowls of nachos in hand as the gentle light of sideboard lamps shone into their faces.

Gwen’s nachos were left almost untouched, but the moment Noah sat down, he had started to eat; he had eaten a sandwich in the middle of the day for lunch, but besides that, the only thing he had eaten were the eggs that Aleajndro had made him. They had been good, but they had settled in his stomach uneasily, a reminder that he hadn’t gotten the closure or the answers that he wanted. He didn’t really think about that as he ate, though, Gwen's voice flowing through his head like a blockade for his thoughts.

He was grateful for that.

“I got to the cafe ten minutes early so that I could prepare myself, y’know? Give myself a pep-talk and maybe choose a table next to a window.” She hummed, taking a sip directly from the wine bottle and passing it over to him. Noah took it with a hum, and tilted his head as he nodded her along. “But when I got there, she was already sitting down at the exact table I would’ve picked.”

Noah raised his eyebrows, and swallowed his mouthful of food.

“What the fuck?” He blinked, and Gwen nodded, running an exasperated hand through her hair with a sigh of acknowledgement. “Jesus, that’s my worst nightmare, literally.”

“I know, right?” Gwen huffed and poked at her nachos with the wooden fork they came with. “And she looked up like the moment I walked into the shop, so I couldn’t even leave to get my bearings outside or anything- But I saw her, and I froze for a few seconds because the fact that I was actually seeing her there made me want to hurl-”

Something Noah could relate to; he took a sip from the bottle, and passed it back.

“-But then I just walked in there and sat down in front of her, and-” She trailed off, pausing for a moment as if to think about her words and take a gulp from the bottle.

“...She apologised, right?” Noah raised an eyebrow even further. “Because if she didn’t then you should’ve left.”

Gwen let out a sigh, and tilted her head to the side.

“That’s the thing, apologising in person was like the first thing she did. She bought me a chai, told me how sorry she was about the whole Geoff and Bridgette thing, and then said that she really wanted to repair our friendship.” Gwen sighed, and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling. “...And she sounded so genuine about it, and she just worded everything so well that I…”

It was Noah’s turn to let out a sigh, and he tilted his head to the side with an exasperated sigh.

“-That you folded instantly?” He mused, and Gwen groaned, dropping backwards, and taking a long drink from the bottle.

“I folded instantly .” She coughed, and Noah couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face as she sighed, and the laugh that escaped his lips as she jolted up with a huff. “It sounds so pathetic when you say it like that.”

Noah rolled his eyes fondly. He knew that Gwen had a soft spot for ‘eloquently worded’ apologies and professions of love, but she was also not the best at reading people, and along with her love for advanced vocabulary came a deep appreciation for truly genuine tone… So he wasn’t very surprised that she had given in, especially considering how whipped she had been for Courtney over the last few months.

“You know that means the apology was probably pre-written, right? The ‘type-a’ runs deep , y’know.” He hummed, smiling as Gwen ran a hand down her face. “And how’d she know you like chai? Is she psychic or something?”

Gwen groaned again, and poked at her nachos with a playfully miserable, and undoubtedly genuine lovestruck look in her eyes.

“That just means she didn’t want to mess it up, just means she was prepared .” She smiled, and Noah rolled his eyes again . “I like that she’s type-a… and admittedly a little bit crazy, y’know? It just makes her more unique.”

Noah could picture Courtney chewing on her nails in a library, typing anxiously at the keys on her laptop as she thought about how to write a gracefully worded apology letter… The thoughts in his head were probably making Courtney out to be worse than she was. He doubted that the apology was just some kind of manipulation technique, but there was still something squirming around in his gut, a suspicion that made him worry a little bit.

Gwen was… Okay, he didn’t want to say fragile, but more prone to heartbreak than anybody else he knew; she just fell in love so easily, and had way less self preservation instincts than she probably should have. 

He didn’t want her to get hurt.

Ew. He wrinkled his nose at himself. She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

“What about the chai, huh? You two haven’t seen each other in months, so how do you explain that?” He hummed, and reached across for the bottle, which Gwen happily handed him, before she paused.

He watched her expression shift, morphing from the contentment resting on her face to vague confusion, to realisation and guilt almost instantly, before it returned to normal. Noah didn’t pride himself on his ability to read people, but sometimes Gwen was like an open book, her eyes betraying every emotion in her head at once.

She could say that she ordered the same drink when they went out for brunch with Heather and the rest of team Amazon, or she could say that it had come up while they were texting last week… But she didn’t say either of those things, and instead, she pursed her lips, and furrowed her eyebrows in thought.

“...I think she might’ve asked Heather, or something. I don’t know, other than you, I think she and Alejandro were the only ones who know I even like Chai.” She hummed, and Noah momentarily froze.

Heather. 

How was Gwen even thinking about Courtney when Heather looked at her the way she did? The Ballerina painting, the secret touches, the way they gazed at each other with so much longing at dinner the week before… It made Noah tighten his grip on his fork, and he simply nodded as Gwen continued to talk.

“But when I said I forgave her, she gave me the biggest smile I've ever seen, like genuinely, she looked so happy that I said it was okay.” She hummed, and Noah watched her lips twitch upwards into a smile as she finally took a bite out of a chip.

“That’s… That’s good.” He spoke, and smiled. At the sight of his smile, Gwen’s faded, and he tilted her head.

For a few moments he thought that she was going to ask what was wrong, and he was going to blurt out something he shouldn’t know, something about how Courtney was the wrong voice and how Heather was practically waiting for her-

But she didn’t, instead she passed him the bottle.

“Heather said you were sick.” She frowned, and Noah blinked, taking the bottle from her hands in vague confusion. “You didn’t text anyone, are you alright?”

Noah blinked, and it suddenly came to his attention that Gwen was right, that he hadn’t texted anyone about his stress-induced illness at all. The question, even Noah could tell, was a lazy coverup for asking why he didn't text her about it specifically… He knew why he didn’t.

He hadn’t texted anyone, hadn’t texted her , about his stress-induced illness because he didn’t want to admit that he was so stressed out about a boy that it made him throw up multiple times. It was a little bit pathetic, and he knew that if she found out about it, he wouldn't be able to lie to her.

…Why did he want to lie to her about it? They told each other everything, so-

‘Everything’ was starting to feel like the wrong word to use, because it seemed to Noah that a lot of secrets weren’t being shared between them recently.

So he grit his teeth.

“Yeah, I'm alright.” He hummed, and averted his eyes as Gwen narrowed hers. She was trying to analyse him, she knew that there was something else behind his words. “Just got a bit stressed out, y’know? Gemmies and all.”

A beat of silence passed, Noah staring down at the nachos in his lap. Suddenly, he wasn’t very hungry anymore.

“...I’m sorry, that sucks. Is that why Alejandro came over?” Gwen hummed, something in her voice that made Noah’s eye twitch. Slowly, he lifted his gaze up, and watched as Gwen tilted her head to the side curiously. She looked genuinely curious, eyes alight and glittering at the potential of one of their gossip sessions.

But Noah felt jittery. He felt suspicious, he felt betrayed.

How come Gwen got to cast a perfectly good relationship to the side while he battled with figuring out Alejandro’s motives? How come she got to be so optimistic about Courtney while he continuously stressed himself out about the boy he had in his bed last night? How come she was leaving Heather behind like that? How was Alejandro okay with that? How was Heather okay with that?

It wasn’t fair , none of it was fair.

It wasn’t fair that Gwen was completely ignoring the way Heather was looking at her, it wasn’t fair that he was struggling so hard with Alejandro while she was coasting along with Courtney, it wasn’t fair that she hadn’t told him about anything-

It was irrational, he knew it was irrational, but he could feel his blood start to boil, and he bit back a scowl as he looked at her. He watched her curious look fade into confusion.

“Alejandro’s none of your business.” He frowned, and Gwen frowned in return. Placing his fork down, and taking one last gulp of wine, he couldn’t help the way the scowl on his face bubbled up to the surface of his expression. “Can we talk about you and Heather, instead?”

At the obvious tone in his voice, Gwen paled, and she furrowed her eyebrows.

“How does that relate to any of this? You don’t have to talk about Alejandro if you don’t want to, I just-”

“How does that not relate to this, huh?” He snapped, and watched Gwen’s typically open expression turn defensive in an instant. (Open to him, he supposed, because she was starting to look the way she looked to strangers on the street.) “You’ve been meeting up with Heather and Alejandro for the last year and you didn’t tell me? You let me talk so much shit about him and you were hanging out with him behind my back the whole time?”

Gwen opened her mouth to reply, before her eyes widened in shock, and she scowled.

“How do you know about that? Did Alejandro tell you?” She scowled, and Noah rolled his eyes, and scoffed.

“ Of course he told me! We talk every day, he’s Heather’s best friend, did you think it wasn’t going to come up?” Noah hissed, leaning forward and watching Gwen’s expression morph through what seemed like a thousand emotions at once. He couldn’t tell whether she was upset, angry, shocked or something else entirely… But something at the back of his mind was telling him that this was entirely uncalled for, in every aspect of the situation.

“I didn’t- That fucking rat .” She scowled, and seemed to search around for her phone for a moment before her eyes shot back up at him, expression morphing into one of wild exasperation. “Hold on, what the fuck are you even mad at me about? Are you mad that I was hanging out with Alejandro before you, because you’re a reasonable person Noah, and you-”

“No! Jesus Christ, I'm not angry about Alejandro, I'm angry about Heather!” He scowled, and watched as Gwen ran an exasperated hand through her hair with a scowl.

“Why the fuck are you angry about Heather? What did she-” She started, but he didn’t even wait for her to finish before he scowled.

“Let me rephrase: I’m angry at you, Gwen, I’m angry that you’re throwing away the obvious relationship you have with her, i’m upset that you’re completely disregarding the obvious feelings she has for you in favour of chasing after this girl who doesn’t even fucking like you!”

…For a few moments, everything was dead-fucking-silent.

There wasn’t any wind, he couldn’t hear any cars driving past the building, the bird calls that typically populated the skies were null. He couldn’t even hear his own breathing, and in front of him-

In front of him, he watched as Gwen’s face went so white she looked like a marble statue… That was, white as a marble statue until instantly, she exploded with rage .

“How fucking dare you .” She snapped, shoving herself backwards on the couch and staring at him with so much anger Noah was starting to subconsciously understand Achilles cataclysmic wrath , or whatever. “What did Alejandro say to you? What the hell did he say to you?”

…Noah didn’t want to back down, maybe the anger would get him some answers.

“He said that Heather told you what she thought you needed to hear about Courtney, not what she actually wanted to tell you.” He scowled, and Gwen struggled to her feet, leaving her nachos forgotten on the coffee table. She started rummaging around the surrounding area for what Noah assumed was her phone, and it suddenly struck him that she was about to leave… About to leave without giving him the answers he wanted. “He- He told me that he told her to ‘go for it’ , and that I’d be able to figure out what that meant- He told me she likes you, and you know it!”

Gwen whipped her head around at that, search for her phone forgotten. The same angry scowl was present on her face, but it was undercut by a look of incredulous hilarity that he couldn’t help but scowl more.

“Heather likes me?” She gaped, teeth clenching into a scowl once again as she watched him frown. “Are you kidding me? She doesn’t fucking like me, she- she-”

It was like she couldn’t finish her sentence, because she spun back around again. It was Noah’s turn to get to his feet, and he grabbed her arm, spinning her back around and staring her dead in the eye. She had that same look in her eye as she did when talking about Heather at the park, and he would be deterred, if not for the blood rushing through his head and adrenaline in his veins.

“She what? I’ve seen how she looks at you, the way she shared her wine with you at dinner, the way you practically begged her to stay that night.” He scowled, and Gwen didn’t even try to pull herself out of his grasp, instead watching him stare at her with a glare as angry as his own. “So what, if she doesn’t like you, if she doesn’t adore you, then what is it Gwen? I'm all ears.”

There were a few seconds of what seemed like hesitation, before Gwen took a step forward. She had a solid inch or two over him, and it seemed even more evident than ever as she let out a long, angry breath.

“Heather-” She started, and Noah scowled again at the bitterness in her tone. “-Doesn’t get to like me. She can’t like me, because if she likes me, then she’s been lying to me and herself for months, and-”

She took a gulp, and yanked her wrist out of his grip. The resentment in her expression didn’t melt, instead, she continued to glare at him as she reached down to finally pick up her phone.

“-we’re not children, but I don’t fucking ‘like her back’.” She scowled, and Noah didn’t do anything to stop her as she strode towards the door. When she reached it though, she stopped, and spun around again. “Are you mad because you think I have it so easy? Because your relationship with Alejandro is ‘so complicated’ and the thought of me giving up something so ‘simple’ makes you want to tear your hair out?”

Noah had thought about this recently, but Gwen – As well as the rest of team e-scope – had this uncanny ability to know what was wrong with him, know what he was thinking at any given moment. He wasn’t sure what it was, whether it was that he was easy to read, or that they knew him so well that they could see it deep in his soul; a never ending tragedy that seemed to flare up every now and again.

Gwen had hit it right on the nose, and it infuriated him.

“...Get out .” Was the only thing he could muster, speaking through gritted teeth and scowling with an anger he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Gwen sneered, not even bothering to slip her shoes on before she swung open the door, and stepped out into the hallway.

“Gladly.” She sneered, an]\d practically slammed the door behind her.

It felt like minutes went by, him simply standing next to the couch, staring at the door and practically shaking with anger as he listened to the girl’s retreating steps. He stood there in silence, until there was a bang on one of his walls, and a muffled shout from a neighbour to ‘chill out’.

He still didn’t move, though, instead, stared down at the unfinished bottle of wine in his hand. Gwen’s green lipstick lightly stained the side of the rim, a contrast to the deep red of the glass.

What the fuck did she mean by the wording of ‘Heather doesn’t get to like me’? What happened ? Why didn’t Heather get to like her? Why didn’t-

He heard the telltale ping of a text notification, and he dropped his gaze down to look at his phone screen. A part of him, something subconscious that he couldn’t push away, thought, hoped , that it might be a text from Gwen; an apology, maybe, an exclamation, hell, maybe cursing him out over text. He wasn’t sure whether or not he deserved it. But no, the text wasn’t from Gwen, it was from-

-It was from Alejandro. Noah practically dove to pick up the phone.

Alejandro - 6:59pm.

Good evening, my dear, I do hope that you're feeling better after last night <3

I miss you greatly

Although

After thinking about it for a while, I do not believe that I should’ve told you about Heather and Gwen

It is neither of our business, and what they do is their business.

Noah scowled.

Noah - 7:00pm

Did Gwen text you?

The response was instantaneous, and it made Noah roll his eyes, the scowl melting off his face in place of a small, tired smirk.

Alejandro - 7:00pm

She did, that is what she told me to send you

I’m very sorry, did something happen?

She can be rather scary.

Noah - 7:01pm

We got into an argument

Like two minutes ago actually what the fuck

How was she so fast

It was more like a screaming match, actually

Don’t be sorry, I didn’t mean to set her on you lmao

Alejandro - 7:01pm

Ah, that makes sense

Was it because you asked her about you and Heather? Because that doesn’t seem like her… 

That being said, I do not believe their situation ended

Uh

Amicably

So I can understand why she would be reluctant to discuss it with anyone, especially considering the potential for it to get out to the tdgc

Noah let out a snort, and he could feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what Alejandro meant by their situation not ending amicably, but he could feel the adrenaline disappearing, and slowly… a sense of guilt settling into his bones. He had been so happy that Gwen was there, so why had he turned on her the instant she came close to figuring out how stressed he was?

Hell, she probably could’ve helped him out, could’ve given him advice as somebody who had a vaguely unbiased view of the situation. She would’ve listened to him, too, rather than disregarding his problems in favour of her own. He chewed on his bottom lip, typing out his next message with a frown.

Noah - 7:02pm.

Amicably?? Wdym

Actually don’t answer that

If she wanted me to know then she wouldn’tve left when I asked her about it

Are you still going to Bridgette’s next friday?? Please say yes

Okay, he had kind of sprung the question on Gwen out of nowhere, but he was upset, and Alejandro would understand, right?

Alejandro - 7:04pm.

Did you ask her nicely? I adore you, my dear, but sometimes you’re rather blunt

And of course I am, 

i’m committed, 

and i don’t believe that either you or Heather are going to let me back out now.

I’m actually rather looking forward to it!

Noah grimaced, but then he grinned. Alejandro was still going to movie night, so if he hadn’t resolved things with Gwen by then, he would still have someone to hang out with. (Not that he wouldn’t have had someone to hang out with otherwise, considering the rest of his friends were going too.)

Noah - 7:05pm.

Yeah

Actually not really

I think it’s my fault, just a little bit

I kind of yelled at her

And you’re correct, I'm glad you’re excited, I’m pretty sure most of the cast will be happy to see you again. :))

Alejandro - 7:05pm.

Ah, you should apologise then, 

But if she yelled at you then she should probably apologise in turn

Would you like me to text her for you?

Noah raised an eyebrow, and let out a quiet snort. He could feel discomfort, dishonesty and guilt swimming around his gut, and he typed out a quick reply before he rolled onto the couch and sighed up at the ceiling.

He thought back to last Sunday, when Gwen had remembered that French saying he didn’t know how to pronounce; Everything that happened twice was bound to happen a third time, was it? He and Alejandro had had a second vaguely-emotional conversation in his bathroom, this was, from what he could remember, Gwen’s second time getting wildly defensive about Heather…

Jesus, he didn’t feel like throwing up anymore, but thinking about Gwen and Alejandro combined made him want to jump off the side of the balcony.

It just meant that those things might happen again… Nothing to worry about.

…He needed a nap.

—

Monday - 9:03am. | Four days, nine hours and fifty-three minutes until movie night.

“Noah! I take it you’re feeling better.” Chris grinned, pinning in his chair and looking him up and down as he smiled back reluctantly. “How was your weekend? Good?”

“Great, even.” He hummed, rolling his eyes with only a hint of sarcasm as he slid into his desk chair. Chris leaned forward, gazing at him with a vague air of suspicion along with his obvious excitement that he was back. All Noah could do was sigh, and raise an eyebrow. “I haven’t thrown up since Thursday, if that’s what you’re wondering, I'm fine.”

It was Chris’s turn to raise an eyebrow, and he realised that Chef was nowhere to be seen… He was probably in the bathroom or something.

“That’s good…” He mused… Oh. Chris wasn’t thinking about him being sick, he was thinking about- “Did you talk to Alejandro?”

…It was nine in the morning. 

He couldn’t help the warmth that began to pool in the bottom of his stomach, and it was all he could do to keep the blush that desperately wanted to cover his cheeks below the collar of his shirt instead. He could see that Chris could sense something, though, with the way his eyebrows continued to raise, and he set his mouth into a firm grimace in an attempt to throw him off.

What? Chris’s scary-good people watching skills made him a little bit nervous.

“...I did.” He spoke, averting his gaze to his bag and pulling out his laptop. He could practically hear the smile stretching across Chris’s face as he quickly typed in his password, and with a groan, he raised a hand to run it through his hair. “But god, it is not your business, so-”

“I was not going to, employee privacy is a very important part of the job, kid.” Chris mused, way too overly cheerful for this early in the morning. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The phrase ‘employee privacy’ wasn’t one he had heard come out of the host’s mouth before, so he looked up with a slight scoff. Chris was simply looking at him expectantly, and he rolled his eyes again at the look on his face.

“That’s not a thing.” He sniffed, and Chris shrugged.

“Anything can be part of the job description if I want it to be.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Noah shivered, disgusted. That being said, he couldn’t help the sense of ease that began to settle into his bones at the routine of it all. Walking into work on monday morning, getting relentlessly pestered by Chris until he eventually left him alone, getting all of his vague administrative work done within an hour of so.

It was almost comforting.

“-But.” Chris continued, and Noah snapped his gaze back from where it had been drifting out into the difference. “If you want to talk about anything-”

“Which I do not-”

“-Then Chef and I are here for you, little dude.” He grinned, a humour in his voice that made Noah smile in turn. He snorted, and tilted his head nonchalantly to the side.

“Thanks, but trust me, i’m-”

He stopped. Actually, there was something he needed to talk to Chris about, not because it was emotionally draining him, but because it was a legitimate work concern, a matter of utmost importance as of late:

“-Actually.” He started, and Chris tilted his head in interest… He wasn’t entirely sure whether or not he would approve of what he was about to say, so he leaned forward, and clasped his hands together as calmly as he could. “I do have something I need to tell you; I found a date to the Gemmies.”

There was a brief, tiny pause, as Chris’s eyes widened. Noah shivered; he could practically feel Chris psychoanalysing him with that reality-tv-show eye of his, he could feel the critical gaze on his skin, and he watched, a little bit nervous, as Chris’s eyebrows raised even more, and the host went slightly pale.

“... Seriously ?” He gaped, and Noah looked away, grimacing. He didn’t even say his name and Chris had already figured him out. “You were throwing up over him less than a week ago, and now you want to fly Alejandro out to the Gemmies with you? Jesus, kid, I know you’re doing this because you’re young and in love, but this is so ‘network’ it’s insane .”

Noah scoffed, and watched as Chris reached hurriedly for his phone, a steadily growing grin on his face as he began to type furiously with his thumbs.

“It’s not young love, and it’s not ‘network’ of me, seriously!... I just couldn’t think of anyone else, and he was in my bed, so-”

“He was in your bed ?” Chris stopped typing, and snapped his gaze up to him again in an instant, eyes widening in vague disgust. Noah wasn’t able to keep the blush from rising up his cheeks as he stood from his desk and began to stride away towards the kitchenette. “Keep your personal life out of the office-”

“It is not what you think it is, trust me.” He groaned, and spun around, pointing an accusing finger at the host as he walked away. “Can you get me his flight details?”

It was Chris’s turn to roll his eyes, and he waved a mock-disappointed hand in his direction as he sighed.

“Yeah yeah, whatever, but I'm getting you two separate rooms!”

“Jesus, what are you, my dad? ”

—

Tuesday, 11:23pm. | two days, nineteen hours, thirty-seven minutes until movie night.

He hadn’t texted Gwen, and Gwen hadn’t texted him.

His room was dark, the curtains drawn tightly closed as a light rain pattered against the windows. He hadn’t chosen to close the curtains that night, and as he watched them wave gently from the wind flowing through a window he hadn’t closed properly, he hauled himself out of bed, and stumbled clumsily over to the blinds.

Drawing them back, he could feel the breeze drifting in through the window, and faintly, he could feel the sensation of tiny splashes of rain hitting his skin. It was relatively cold, and upon opening the curtains, he felt his room get about five degrees colder in an instant.

…Probably not the best idea.

But he had his bed simply a few steps away, the warmth of his comforter and weighted blanket awaiting him for when he would eventually retreat from the window.

As he looked out, he could see rain gently falling from the sky, some droplets falling down onto the street, and some hitting the windows of his building.

This was the kind of weather that Gwen really liked; The kind of foggy rain, misty nights where traffic lights were partially obscured by the rain falling from the grey clouds. It was the kind of weather, he remembered, that made her believe in the divine a little bit more than she usually did. 

“You know how sometimes you’ll be in a thunderstorm, and the lightning will just be so clear you can see all the individual strands of it? When the sun’s shining down at just the right angle that it captures the colours of the leaves? When it’s just cold enough that you can see your breath when you walk, and the rain and the fog are kind of obscuring the path in front of you?”

He let out a laugh, short and entertained as he watched Gwen tip her head back and stare up at the night sky. They were on the beach in Hawaii, a few hours after the conclusion of Total Drama World Tour’s final episode. The stars above them were so bright, Noah couldn’t remember seeing anything like it.

“Yeah, I get it.” He hummed fondly, glancing across at her with a smile.

“It’s that kind of weather that makes you kind of realise why so many ancient civilisations believed in the gods that they did, y’know? Like I know we have science and everything now, but sometimes-”

“Sometimes when you see lightning strike you can understand why Zeus was considered the most powerful Olympian by the Greeks?” Noah interrupted, and it was Gwen’s turn to laugh, tilting her head to look at him with a grin.

She looked tired, out of it… But happy, too.

“Exactly, you get it.”

Noah did get it, and even now, standing by the window in thin pyjamas, watching the rain pitter-patter against the glass, he understood exactly what she meant.

“...I should talk to her.” He muttered, but he glanced back at his bed for a moment, and he paused. “...In the morning.”

—

Wednesday - 12:13pm. | Two days, six hours, forty-seven minutes before movie night.

“Okay, I’ll email you the flight details, make sure you’re packed the night before, Chris’ll kill you if you run late.” Noah grinned into the phone, and rolled his eyes as the person on the end of the line responded.

“Thank you sir, yes sir!” Brick’s voice crackled through, and Noah rolled his eyes with a sigh.

“I’m like two years older than you, dude, chill out.” He mused. “No problem, do not be late.”

He hung up the phone, and spun around to see Chef looking at him expectedly. He smiled, raising an eyebrow and letting out a smug hum of satisfaction. Chef grinned, and placed his hands on his hips.

“So?”

“What can I say, I'm good at my job.” Noah hummed, and stretched his arms above his head with a tired, self-satisfied yawn. “Brick’s all set, he’s going to carpool with Jo to the airport.”

“Carpool with Jo ?” Chef raised an eyebrow, and let out a small laugh. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah, but apparently it works for both of them… Honestly, I'm amazed their parents are letting them do anything Total Drama related after the shit-show of Revenge of the Island.”

Not only was Noah allowed to bring a plus-one with him, but due to the nature of the awards show, the Network had decided to invite six members to the ROTI cast to the Gemmies as well; Cameron, obviously, due to his unlikely win, Zoi because of her almost-win, Mike because of his relation to Zoi, and Jo due to her competitiveness and popularity. Originally, they had asked for Lightning, but his father had made a public show of refusing to allow his son to attend.

Lightning's refusal had led to a vague amount of confusion, and because of the already-purchased plane ticket, they had had to find a replacement. They had tried Scott, but he had adamantly refused, no matter what they offered him. They had also tried Anne Maria, but despite her constant longing for fame, she had decided against it, as ‘being associated with a problematic network’ might ‘hurt her future modelling career.’

…Noah had given her props for that; it was an extremely wise decision.

But it meant that they landed on Brick, who… Was actually Noah’s first choice.

Brick was sweet, he was respectful, and he was a hell of a lot more mature than his own cast had been during his first season; He was also one of the second generation contestants that was in vague contact with the original cast. He remembered Trent talking about chatting with him a month or so ago, and he also remembered the ultimate consensus of him to be pretty positive.

He had spoken to him a few times himself, as well; mainly warning him and his parents about the nature of the show before it began, but also afterwards, during his routine check-up on the eliminated contestants.

So he wasn’t upset about bringing Brick along with them.

“Amen, Jesus, I'm surprised we haven’t been sued.” Chris snorted, striding past the two of them and dropping into the chair on the other side of Noah’s desk. “But we can cross them off the list, what do we have left?”

Chef tilted his head in consideration, and Noah grinned.

“You need to finalise the travel insurance stuff.” He hummed, and Chris nodded.

“Dinner with the Exec’s tonight.” Chef added, Chris letting out a sigh of vague disappointment. “And there’s the car hire for when we get there.”

“I also have movie night on Friday.” Noah leant back in his chair. “So if you need me for anything it has to be before then.”

Chris let out a long, tired sigh, the grin not leaving his face. He seemed to enjoy the chores, enjoy the lead-up to the big, important event even despite the way it looked kind of like it was running him into the ground. The rings under his eyes were more prominent than they were last week, and he made a mental note to secretly add melatonin to Chris’s grocery cart next time he dragged him along shopping.

But nonetheless, he ran a satisfied hand through his hair as a chuckle bubbled its way out of his throat.

“God, I love show business.” He grinned, and clapped his hands together with a maniacal little giggle. Chef simply rolled his eyes as he spun around and began to walk towards the kitchenette, but Noah couldn’t stop the same grin from fading onto his own face. Yeah, the network wasn’t great, and Total Drama had kind of, slightly, only-a-little-bit messed him up, but he couldn’t deny the way his heart rate sped up at the thought of the Gemmies closing in; He could feel the adrenaline in his bones .

Christ, he was starting to love show business as well.

—

Thursday - 6:47pm | One day, thirteen minutes until movie night.

There was a box outside his apartment.

…There was a box outside his apartment?

Noah blinked, running an exhausted hand down his face and letting out a sigh. He had been in the office since six in the morning, and while he had made the most of his unlimited breaks, he could feel his clothes sticking to his skin, and the smell of coffee lingering around his body like a skunk. He was too tired for a package, especially one that had forgone the typical ‘mail table’ ritual in the foyer, but alas, with a groan, he crouched down to read the label.

It was a pretty big package, big enough for him to be unable to pick it up with one hand, but- oh.

He understood why it was a large package. A long package, approximately the length of his torso.

So as quickly as he could, he yanked open the door of his apartment, dumped his stuff on the couch, and gently picked up the box, carrying it into his living room and closing the door with his hips like he was carrying a very delicate baby.

“Holy shit…” He muttered, setting the box down onto the coffee table and staring at it for a few moments before spinning around to find a pair of scissors. He found a pair instantly, resting on the messy corner of the tv stand from when he, team e-scope and Gwen – He winced. He still hadn’t texted her. – had done crafts a few weeks earlier, and gently, with as much care as he could possibly muster, began to slice down the tape running down the length of the box.

“This is literally my monthly pay, Jesus Christ.” He muttered, and folded back the cardboard flaps of the box, exposing another textured white box, with a deep green ribbon wrapped around it and tied into a bow.

It was the suits Chris bought for him last week, the ones that cost two thirds of his monthly salary each.

And quite honestly, as he pulled the secondary box out of the cardboard (What turned out to be an individually packaged suit jacket, folded as minimally as it could be within the confines of its box.), and gently pulled off the lid, he almost (Almost) realised why.

The fabric, dark and green and lush, was a texture such a strange mix of coarse and fine that Noah didn’t know how to describe it. He had seen it within the store, the deep green Chris had nodded enthusiastically at, but he didn’t remember it looking like this . It looked like it almost had the same undertones as his hair did, and as he pulled another box with a green ribbon out from under it – A matching tie and slacks – he stared down at it with such a look of wonder that he almost didn’t know what to do.

Jesus, the tie itself was so expensive he almost didn’t want to touch it.

But he had to, and assuming he was going to wear one of the suits to the Gemmies… Well, he may as well try one of them on, right?

After bouncing up the stairs, unable to hide his vaguely-elated grin from the rest of his empty apartment, he retrieved the collared shirts from the draw in his room they had been meticulously placed in, and practically tumbled down the stairs. He didn't even bother going back to his room to change, instead pulling his shirt off right there in the living room and exchanging it for a black dress-shirt he haphazardly buttoned up. Then delicately, he pulled on the slacks and lazily draped the tie around his neck, before carefully pulling the jacket over his shoulders.

It was comfortable, and fit him better than any piece of clothing he could remember owning before.

His dress shoes were sitting in his closet from the last time he went to one of Chris’s fancy events (A dinner with the Network CEO at an outrageously fancy restaurant: He had worn his old grey suit, and Chris continues to blame it as the reason he didn’t get the job he was pitching. Noah disagrees, and instead thinks that it was just because the idea was idiotic.) and he didn’t have the will to go and grab them before he slid over to the bathroom, swung open the door, and glanced at himself in the mirror.

He blinked.

He looked good.

Sure, he looked tired, a little bit bedraggled and definitely not as put together as he would for the actual event, but his hair was pushed back lazily with a sort of effortless grace, and his eyes were wide, eyelashes fluttering every time he blinked. His skin was relatively clear, and the dark circles under his eyes practically accentuated his features rather than making him look simply exhausted.

The suit jacket accentuated the sharpness of his shoulders and the shape of his waist, and the tie draped around his neck made him look relaxed, like a sleazy, show-business grin should be resting on his face. The hastily unbuttoned shirt added to the image, as in his rush, he had left the top several buttons unbuttoned, and the skin of his upper-chest was exposed to the chill of his bathroom.

“Holy shit.” He muttered for the second time, and slowly spun around, watching himself in the mirror as the fabric creased gently at his elbows.

All he needed was a couple of accessories, something he was sure he could scrounge up himself, and then he would look almost exactly the way he pictured those sleazy reality TV stars to be in his head.

He wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or not… Something about dying a hero or living long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Noah’s never really been a Batman person, truly, even as a kid he was much more into fantasy movies like the lord of the rings, rather than big, blockbuster superhero films. (He would leave those to Cody and his eldest sister, thank you very much.) But that singular line from that singular movie had been bouncing around his head ever since he first heard it; There was irony there, with him standing in this wildly expensive suit, being both a victim of Chris Mclean’s idiocy and practically the heir to his empire at the same time.

… He wasn’t becoming a villain , that was ridiculous. He didn’t host any death-defying reality tv shows, didn’t purposely injure or traumatise any kids. He just liked his job, and he liked the perks that came with it… especially the very expensive suits.