Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The cool glow of Josh’s laptop screen was the only light in his room. The emission casted long shadows over his stacks of protein-coated coffee mugs and packed bags still untouched from move-in day. Textbooks sat open, their words blurring together as his eyes traced the same sentence for the fourth time. The air in the room was stale, sealed off from the rest of the world.

Suddenly his phone buzzed, slicing through the silence. Josh stared at his Dad’s contact as it appeared on the screen. He let it ring for a moment before exhaling sharply and answering.

“Hey, bud,” the familiar voice came through, chipper in a way that made Josh’s stomach turn. “How’s school? Getting settled in?”

Josh pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. Just busy.”

“Good, good.” His tone was distracted, too focused on his own words to truly hear Josh. “Listen, your mom and I heard from my buddy at Midwest Capital Investments. It’s been tricky, but he’s still fighting to reserve a spot for you after graduation next year—an internship first, then hopefully a full-time sales position. He says the company’s expanding, perfect time to get in.”

Josh felt his throat close up. Midwest Capitol. He knew the name well—one of those high-pressure firms that expected 80-hour workweeks. The kind of respectable corporation his parents could brag about at dinner parties. What more could Josh ever want?

“That’s… uh, that’s great,” he said, scratching the stubble on his chin.

“We told you all that hard work would pay off,” his mom chimed in. “This is a huge step for your future, sweetheart!”

Josh’s chest felt tight like the walls of his room had just shifted an inch closer.

“Yeah,” he said numbly. “Thanks for setting that up.”

They said something else about staying on top of his GPA and keeping his resume polished, but Josh barely heard them. He rattled off an excuse about needing to study and hung up. The second the call ended, the silence in his room became unbearable. 

He needed to take the edge off, but reliving his few experiences at a bar sounded like a chore. Just imagining the overlapping voices, loud music, and the expectation to engage made his shoulders tense. He didn’t want all that. He just wanted the buzz, and he wanted it alone.

Wine. Cheap, easy. Walmart was open late, right?

As Josh grabbed his keys and pulled open his bedroom door, a voice called from the living room. 

“Well, look who’s alive.”

His roommate perked up from the couch, a golden retriever sprawled across her lap, and a screenplay laid on the armrest. “I almost forgot that I'm not the only one who lives here."

Josh sighed, running a hand through his long waves. “Not in the mood, Debby.”

“My bad, dude,” she said, assessing her friend from his red-dyed mullet down to his black Nikes. “I’ve missed you though.”

"Just need to grab something at Walmart."

"How exciting," she amused, gently brushing the blonde fur of Josh’s dog, Jim. "I thought you swore by Whole Foods, but they're not open this late. What's so urgent you need it now?"

While absentmindedly biting the inside of his cheek, he grabbed the door handle. “Wine.”

He heard Debby straighten up as if she hadn't expected that answer. “Ah, one of those nights,” she joked before pausing cautiously. “Seriously, you okay though?”

Josh pressed his lips together into a thin line and nodded. Then he walked out, letting the apartment door fall shut behind him.

The automatic doors yawned open, welcoming Josh into the too-bright, too-cold store. The fluorescent lights hummed above, casting a sterile glow over the aisles.

He had never been to this one before. Something about its presence had never registered with him until now. Until he needed it. The place was nearly empty, just a few tired shoppers drifting through the aisles.

Josh strutted past the towering shelves to find the alcohol section. Rows of bottles promised oak undertones and bold finishes, none of which mattered to him. He grabbed the first cheap white, instinctively checking the nutrition label before brushing off the scrutiny. Yeah, it was unhealthy, but he wanted to drink.

The self-checkout area was nearly empty. No small talk, no forced interactions. Perfect, he thought to himself before realizing he celebrated too soon. The moment he scanned the bottle, the screen flashed an age verification prompt. Dammit.

A soft voice with a slight rasp broke through the beeping registers.

“Hey, dude, need to see your ID real quick.”

Josh tried not to pay him much notice, wanting to keep this interaction as transactional as he could. But the cashier’s bright orange beanie made that impossible, standing out like a highlighter. He appeared to be around Josh’s age, maybe younger. He didn’t care to get a good look.

He pulled out his wallet and handed over his license. The guy glanced at it, then at him, then back at the ID for a comically long moment before tapping on his phone for approval.

"Thank you," he said kindly, handing it back. "You're all set. Have a good night!"

Swapping his ID for his debit card, Josh muttered a thanks.

The employee grinned like that was the most acceptable answer in the world and shuffled to wherever he was originally hiding.

Josh grabbed the bottle and receipt, then gave a tight smile as he passed the cashier on the way out. He stepped into the late-summer night, the automatic doors sliding shut behind him.

The bottle thudded onto his desk the moment Josh got home. His laptop waited for him like a challenge he begrudgingly had to accept. Sitting down, he began an eager sip of wine straight from the rim. Just a taste to get him started.

The flavor hit him like a bitter punch with notes he wasn’t accustomed to. He nearly spat it out, accidentally knocking a glass against his lip ring with a clink. But he swallowed, aware of its promise to mellow the stress in his mind.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard of his half-finished financial analysis essay, the blinking cursor taunting him. He read over the last sentence again and again, but the words weren’t clicking. He felt tangled by deadlines and the weight of his future career.

It was supposed to be a big opportunity. He had no excuse not to be grateful. His parents sure were, images of their proud faces flashed across his vision. People would kill for a position like this. How lucky he was.

Adjusting his eyes to the screen again, he took another sip. He needed to finish this assignment, but every sentence felt hollow, every paragraph like an echo of something he wished he cared more about. He let out a breath, reached forward, and shut the laptop.

Screw it.

He grabbed the bottle and sank into his chair, taking a longer drink this time. The warmth that spread through his chest induced a relaxing ease. It helped, at least for now.

✲

Weeks went by, though Josh felt like he hadn’t left his desk. The same endless cycle of career prep and late-night drinks blurred together into an exhausting mess. Notebooks lay abandoned in haphazard piles, and pre-workout wrappers were scattered across the floor. However, the true mess he wished to ignore was the overflowing trash can, packed with empty wine bottles.

He found himself back at Walmart more often than he’d like to admit. That was normal for a college student, right? Just a way to unwind after long days of classes and even longer nights of studying.

Josh noticed that the same cashier was overseeing the self-checkouts. He thought nothing of it until he felt the dude’s eyes on him for an uncomfortably long time. Josh hesitantly turned to see the cashier hovering nearby, doing something on his device. While he tapped, Josh caught a glimpse of a small, worn sketchbook tucked behind his phone, its edges slightly bent.

For a second, he wondered why it seemed like the man was watching him, until the dude shyly peeked up from the device. "Sorry, I'm trying to pull up the age thing. It's being slow..."

That's when it dawned on him—why the guy must have been watching him all funny. Josh had completely forgotten to show his ID. Duh. 

He let out a little "oh" and scrambled for his wallet, fumbling to pull out his card. The employee’s phone had the verification app open by the time Josh was ready. Josh cursed himself for being so damn awkward as he held out his license.

"Thanks. There we go, it's all good now for ya." In response, Josh gave a withdrawn thanks, man as he crammed the card back into its slot. 

Assuming that was the end of it, he was relieved as he began to pay. That was all the interaction his social battery could handle for the day. At least, that's what he believed before he heard the guy's voice coming from behind his shoulder.

“Weren’t you in here a couple of times last week?”

Josh sighed, angling his shoes towards the exit doors for a quick escape. “Um, yeah.”

“I knew it. I feel like I’m always here when you’re here.” The cashier stepped forward making Josh realize the guy wanted to continue their conversation—if you could even call it that. His fingers anxiously peeled at the edge of his sketchbook.

“There's not many cool brooding emo guys like you around here. I respect it.” Josh clenched his teeth at the comment, not sure how to react. Remembering the cashier’s bright beanie, Josh realized they were among the few who dressed alternatively in their town’s sea of simple khakis and button-ups.

“I guess so,” he muttered.

A pause between them felt longer than it should have been. While Josh focused on the exit, he could still feel the cashier’s eager energy as if he were searching for a way to prolong the interaction.

But in the end, he let his hands fall to his sides in a quiet surrender, almost making Josh feel bad. “Anyways! You’re all good. See you next time then.”

Josh waved bye and ducked out quickly, avoiding any real eye contact. With a determined stride, he advanced toward the exit, already fixated on the comforting solitude his wine would bring him.

✲

Each time, there he was again; that familiar cashier, always dressed in mismatched outfits under his blue employee vest. One day, it was a red beanie and ankle socks paired with a floral cardigan. Next, it was a bucket hat with layered flannel clothes head to toe. At first, Josh ignored it, but it kept happening. Every time Josh walked in, the guy leaned on the counter with a ready quip.

“Another night, another bottle, huh? You must really be keeping the winemakers in business.”

Josh returned a smile out of courtesy, but mostly kept his eyes on the self-checkout. Just scan and go.

Wake up, run with Jim, meal prep, attend class and mock interview, do homework, then be in bed by 10:30.

“You know,” the cashier continued making his comments, observing Josh’s ID, “you should try something new. Maybe a red blend? It'll match nicely with your hair.”

Assignment after assignment, tendencies repeated themselves. Josh felt the itch for the bottle just a little more. A drink to help him sleep, another to keep his brain numb during schoolwork. He factored in the extra calories, keeping track of his daily macros.

Start writing the accounting flashcards by 6:00, so you have time to finish the Econ reading by 11:00 and be up at 5:00am for your morning run.

“Another one?” The cashier asked one night, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not gonna be seeing double tomorrow?”

Josh’s footsteps often brought him to the alcohol aisle without a second thought. The wine helped dull the edges, making the world feel temporarily quiet. Lately, he hardly spoke to anyone, just the passing chat with Debby or required participation in class. All was quiet except for his busy thoughts and—

”Y’know, wine is weird. It’s like, ‘Hey, let’s take fruit, let it rot a little, and then call it classy.’”

The guy’s offbeat humor was an expected occurrence. The weeks blended in a haze of stress and numbness, making everything feel like TV static. 

The marketing essay is due Wednesday. The research paper is due Tuesday. And the accounting sim is due tomorrow. …Or wait, was it due today? What day was it again?

“You’re good, I don’t need your ID.” The words cut through the storm in Josh’s head.

He blinked, momentarily disoriented, as his mind caught up from wherever it had been drifting. His hands moved automatically, reaching for his wallet before the words finally sank in. “What?” 

The cashier must have anticipated Josh’s confusion because he explained without missing a beat. “June 18th, 2003. That’s your birthday, right?”

Josh barely registered his last comment, still processing the first one. A wave of unease washed over him, quickly twisting into something heavier settling in his gut. Shit. Josh had been coming to Walmart a lot, hadn’t he? He scratched his stubble, which had grown into more of a beard now, and adjusted the wine bottle in his hands. “Yeah… that’s right,” He muttered more uncertain than he wanted to sound.

The orange beanied cashier seemed to pick up on the awkwardness after he finished his monitor’s age approval. “You’re all set. Um, I see you also go to Ohio State,” he said quickly, his hands twitching with nervous energy. “Not trying to be weird, just noticed your student ID in there.”  He tried to summon a smile but looked strained. 

“No, no, it’s not weird. You go there too?” When the cashier nodded, Josh stiffly replied, "That's cool." He was already feeling the urge to retreat, hoping to wrap this up quickly without seeming rude.

The cashier’s grin returned at Josh’s words, a bit sheepish this time. “Yeah, cool.” When Josh thought that was the end of the interaction, from the corner of his eye he saw Orange Beanie still lingering close by. This guy was just getting started.

“I’m Tyler, by the way.”

Josh hesitated to give him the time of day. He wanted nothing more than for the employee to get the hint, but clearly, that wasn’t working. Josh was unfortunately too polite to ignore him, so he paid him a glance as he inserted his card into the chip reader. 

Beyond the bright headgear and loud clothes, he never gave the cashier much attention. But now, actually taking in his appearance, there were a few icy blonde tufts of hair peeking out from under the hat, framing his gently tanned face, soft and unexpected.

His eyes scanned Orange Be- Tyler up and down. If he continued a moment longer, he would have seen the shade of scarlet maroon on Tyler’s cheeks. 

Still feeling a little off-balance, his voice came off quieter than intended. ”I know.” 

Tyler’s expression faltered in the most minimal way, his brows furrowing slightly. It was enough for Josh to know that they weren’t on the same page. It was almost amusing how oblivious he was, evoking the tiniest smirk from Josh.

“Your badge.”

The simple, emotionless explanation set off a light bulb in Tyler’s head. He looked down at his name tag like he just remembered it existed, then directly back up at Josh.

“Right. Obviously,” he breathed out a clumsy chuckle.

The discussion nearly drowned out the card reader’s obnoxious beeping, reminding Josh to remove his card. He yanked it out and stuffed the good ol’ conversation piece into his wallet.

“It’s okay,” he decided to reassure him. Josh didn’t know why he kept the conversation going when it was the last thing he wanted to do, yet he continued. Bittersweet, he bared a tight smile and said, “I have a feeling you might already know mine.”

The lighthearted teasing influenced a stark shift in Tyler’s once timid behavior. His shoulders relaxed and the tension fell from his face.

Though, he didn’t acknowledge the remark and instead retracted to his original script. “Well, I just thought you deserved to know my name since we’ve been seeing each other here a lot,” he began, and Josh felt the familiar guilt pang return. He remembered why he wanted to get out of this store so badly in the first place. “If you ever need anything else while you’re here, let me know. I’m happy to help,” he smiled, and Josh gave a pathetic attempt at one back.

“Thanks, dude. I appreciate it.” As Tyler stepped away, Josh seized the opportunity to end the small talk. He fetched the bottle and hurried to the exit, tossing a quick “Have a good night” as he went. 

Finally, he made his escape. His legs carried him towards the door faster than his brain could comprehend. The first set of glass doors slid open as his feet hit the censor, but suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.

“Hey!” Josh whipped his head around to the voice calling out at him.

There came Orang- Tyler, nearly jogging over to catch him before he left. 

What the hell is he doing?  Josh was puzzled until he saw the loose piece of paper in the cashier's hand. 

“You forgot your receipt. Didn’t know if you needed it.” 

He really didn’t.

His eyes briefly locked with Tyler’s, brown and bright, before he took the receipt. He muttered a quick thanks and made his way toward the exit once again.

Just as he was about to take the first step outside, there was one last thing that stole his focus; a voice rang through the entryway.

“Bye, Joshua!”

Josh didn’t quite understand Tyler’s smug little smirk and hand wave until he reflected on his own comment about his name. Initially, it was humorous and a tad endearing even, but when he remembered the point Tyler was proving, shame washed over him like a tsunami all over again. Josh had been here so much that Tyler knew his name, his entire birthday. I’ve been coming so much that he’s memorized my ID…

His fingers anxiously drummed on the glass bottle as he walked out of the store. The crisp autumn air hit his face, but it didn’t do much to clear the fog in his head. 

How many times has Josh already been here this semester? He didn’t bother counting. The wine bottle almost felt heavier than before. At the back of his mind, guilt took shape in the form of Tyler’s voice—not accusatory, but a quiet reminder that someone had seen him like this. Josh was a wreck. He told himself it didn’t matter, but the weight in his hand, solid and unyielding, suggested otherwise.

Chapter Text

“Another Walmart trip?”

The voice cut through the quiet hum of their apartment, casual but sharp enough to stop Josh in his tracks. He hadn’t even realized she was there. His hand hovered over the doorknob, keys biting into his palm.

Josh glanced over his shoulder to see Debby perched on a barstool in the kitchen, her clip-on book lamp illuminating her reddish brunette waves. For a girl with such wide, innocent eyes, she could be surprisingly intimidating when she wanted to be.

“What? No.” Josh’s fingers fidgeted around his keys. “I was… about to go for a run.”

Debby barely looked up. She didn’t need to, he could feel the skepticism radiating off her.

“At nine o’clock at night?”

Josh shrugged and shifted his weight. “Yeah.”

“You usually run in the morning.”

“So?” His voice cracked, betraying him.

When Debby finally glanced up, it felt as though she was seeing straight through his facade. “In those shoes?”

Without looking down, he knew she was right. Of course, tonight of all nights, he wasn’t wearing his running shoes. He darted back to his room, swapping his Vans out for Nikes, silently cursing himself. At least the rest of his outfit passed for workout gear; a gray tank, black shorts, and a black baseball cap. Its brim dipped low enough to shadow his tired eyes. 

When he returned, Debby’s voice followed him. “Just saying. It’s not your usual thing.” Her brows lifted slightly, her tone light yet pointed. “You’ve been going to Walmart a lot.”

Her words hit Josh harder than he expected, stirring the same nagging thought Tyler had recently voiced. Josh forced a hollow laugh. “Didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me.”

There was a brief intermission where they both went silent, his roommate humbling him with one critical look. Feeling small, he now much preferred the view of his hands being tucked into his pockets. 

Debby spoke up first. Her voice softened, coated with blatant sympathy. 

“Dude… I’m starting to worry about you.” She didn’t need to push any further—the concern was already planted.

Josh didn’t respond. Instead, he let his eyes lose focus. Maybe he could trick his mind into believing he wasn’t there and none of this was happening. Even as he stepped out the door, he could still feel the weight of her stare. She wasn’t wrong. That was the worst part.

✲

The second his shoes hit the pavement, Josh started running. Hard. 

He normally started his runs with ease, breathing steadily as his body was used to the routine. But this time, he exhaled sharply as the guilt in his gut gnawed at him. The ache in his calves, the strain in his lungs—it gave him something to focus on, so he welcomed it. 

He pushed harder, his arms pumping, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Turning corners at random, he chased the exhaustion like it was a remedy. Although as the miles stretched on, that familiar itch crept back in. Running worked as a distraction, but he craved something to numb the pressure.

Before he realized it, his feet had carried him to Walmart. Beads of sweat dripped down his cheeks. The automatic doors swished open, luring him in. He hesitated for a moment, the cool night air biting into his skin, then walked in.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand, feeling the slick sweat mix with the tension that wouldn’t let go. The sound of the fluorescent lights overhead buzzed louder than usual while his sneakers obnoxiously squeaked across the linoleum.

Debby didn’t have to know. He could hide the empty bottles like it never happened. But Tyler would know, being the one conducting the age approval. The thought made his heart pound. His fingers brushed the edges of a wine label, lingering. Why did he even care what some random cashier thought?

Instinctively, his eyes searched the checkout area only to find no sign of him. Without Tyler’s expectant stare, nothing was stopping him. There was no social perception or reason to second guess. He was granted the quiet permission of being unseen, so Josh grabbed the bottle. 

He shoved down the festering guilt, reminding himself that no one had to know.

Needing a distraction, he let his eyes wander beyond the narrow path he always took. It was almost embarrassing how little he’d paid attention before. Normally he just made a straight-shot to the same aisle, the same shelf, the same transaction. 

The arts and crafts department made him slow when a figure appeared at the far end of the aisle.

Tyler?

Josh barely had time to process the sight before he was watching the man maneuver the blue vest off his back and stuff it into his tote bag. Once situated, he reached for something on the shelf with one hand while the other yanked off his beanie.

There was nothing incredibly compelling or shocking about the man’s hair. The sides were shaved while the top was longer with bleached icy blonde waves, brunette strands debuting at the roots. It was the sheer fact that he had gone this long without seeing it that made the moment feel almost intrusive.

There was also the undeniable fact that it was incredibly messy. 

He raked a hand through his hair a few times, though it wasn’t fixing much. Each time his locks reverted to their original position, remaining frizzy from the hat’s static. Josh couldn’t help but smirk at how much trouble it was giving him, amused to the point where he nearly forgot that he was supposed to be avoiding him. The reminder only hit him when their eyes met.

Tyler appeared to be slightly startled, though it didn’t take long for him to beam. “Hi, Joshua! ” 

Oh right. Tyler learned his name from his driver’s license. 

Before Josh could correct him, Tyler turned, his tote slipping from his shoulder. He fumbled with it, accidentally dropping a roll of masking tape off the shelf. The clatter caught his attention long enough for Josh to shove the wine onto a nearby end cap behind some paint rollers.

“Hey.” Josh snapped his gaze back to Tyler, feigning nonchalance. Had Tyler noticed how long he’d been staring? “Are you just getting off work?”

“Yeah. You here for your nightly wine trip?” Tyler tilted his head like a curious puppy.

Josh chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Even with there being no ill intent behind the question, it still felt like some sort of tease. Shame began coursing through his bloodstream for what felt like the twenty-first time that night. “Oh, uh, not this time, no. Just came to get some… uh,” His eyes snapped to the neighboring aisle. “Dog food. Just came for dog food, that’s all.”

“Oh! I didn’t know you had a dog.” Tyler said, gullibly invested enough to almost make him feel guilty for lying through his teeth.

It was a struggle to keep his voice steady. “Uh, yeah. Just… adopted one a couple of weeks ago.” At least that part wasn’t a lie.

“Aww, that’s awesome.” He acted genuinely unfazed, but Josh couldn’t shake the feeling that he could see right through him. 

As they continued talking, Josh became acutely aware of how sweaty he was from his run, the dampness clinging to his shirt. He caught Tyler ogling and Josh’s stomach churned. Oh god, he must notice how gross I look right now.

“So,” he rushed to change the subject, crossing his arms in a pathetic attempt to hide his soaked tank. Of course he had to be wearing gray, it showed so clearly. “Were you, um, picking up something before you head out?”

With one brisk turn, Tyler faced the shelves. It was almost like he was the one hiding something. “Yeah, just a couple of things for this project I’m working on.”

“Something for school?” Asked Josh. It was originally rhetorical, mostly to avoid coming off as uninterested. 

Tyler absentmindedly twisted a lock of his messy hair around his fingers while browsing the selection of different art supplies in front of them. “Uh… yes and no. It’s nothing super important, not for like, a grade or anything. Just a little art project I got picked for.”

“Hm, gotcha…” Josh caught the slight shift in his posture, the way he seemed to close in on himself. “Are you majoring in art then, or…?”

“Oh, um. Yeah.” Tyler tucked his chin down to his neck.

“Oh, sweet. That’s cool.” An art career. The thought made Josh’s mind drift to a more reminiscent time of his own. Of who he was before.

The cashier brushed it off like it was something he was embarrassed about. “Heh, yeah. What’s yours? I don’t think I’ve asked.”

“Uh, econ and finance… probably nowhere near as exciting as what you’re doing.” Deflecting the conversation from that topic, he waved it off. “You said you were picked for the project?”

“A double major!? That’s still cool.” Tyler glanced back over at him, warming up. He picked up a chisel-tipped paint brush from the rack and added on, “And yeah! There was a sign-up thing to do a mural on one of the art buildings and… I guess they liked my submission.”

Josh’s curiosity piqued from such a response. “Dude, that’s awesome. Have you already started on it?”

“A little bit!” His passion seeped through his initial shyness. “I started the other day, and I’m planning to work on it more tomorrow since I’m off.”

“Do you have a picture or something?” he asked without thinking, becoming fully engrossed.

Tyler seemed taken aback by the question, then his lip curled into the subtlest smile. “Yeah, hang on, I can show you.” He pulled out his phone, sucking in a breath. “Just keep in mind that it’s nowhere near finished. It looks kinda weird right now just because I left off at an odd point. Um, here’s a couple of pictures I took. There’s a lot I wanna fix tomorrow, that’s what I need the supplies for…”

Unsteadily, Tyler handed over his phone. The screen depicted rough sketches and saturated colors that began to take shape, forming imagery of scales and wings. Josh couldn’t help but be impressed. “It doesn’t look weird at all. This is actually so sick…”

“Really?” His voice was small, vulnerability on display.

“Yeah, dude. You’re actually, like, super talented.” Before he could stop himself, he swiped right and the screen displayed more of Tyler’s artwork. The posts showcased an array of different mediums; oil pastels, digital, and charcoal just to name a few. The art styles had their own range—some were comic book-esque and graphic while others leaned more into realism. It was simply incredible how he’d mastered each one. “Oh, these are so cool too, what the hell…” he murmured in awe while flicking through the profile.

Tyler’s face flushed and he nearly choked on his words. His hands rubbed down the sides of his face while he downplayed the compliment, “Oh stop! it’s really nothing.” 

The longer he scrolled past the account, the more Josh found himself fondly admiring the depths of his creativity. “I’m serious. Hey, would you mind if I followed you? I wanna see more of your stuff.”

Tyler jolted in surprise, but then collected himself and nodded simply. “Oh, sure.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for updates on the mural too,” he grinned, fetching his own phone from his pocket. After giving the account a follow, he returned the devices to their respective places. 

As if on cue, a notification dinged through Tyler’s phone. His eyes skimmed over it, then abruptly tucking the device away into his bag. “Oh, my ride’s here. Let me grab this stuff and head out.” He adjusted his clutch on the supplies in his arm and flashed Josh a giddy grin. “S’good seeing you. I’ll catch ya later!”

“Yeah, see ya.” Josh watched Tyler walk away, feeling an odd nuance from their conversation.

@trjdraws—Josh was sure to check it out soon.

✲

Josh anxiously tapped his pencil against his notebook, his eyes scanning the blank page in front of him. The prep interview questions mocked his complete lack of inspiration. His thoughts were spiraling. He needed a break. A drink sounded good, maybe something strong to take the edge off.

But then, the thought of Tyler crossed his mind. The idea of being seen in the wine aisle again? Not exactly the image he wanted to continue projecting. The impulse to check Tyler’s Instagram page arose. He’d done it a few times already to see what Tyler was up to, mostly his art. Every post seemed to draw Josh in deeper.

Whether it be a realistic portrait, a charcoal landscape, or stylized concept art for some personal project of his, his art provoked something in Josh that he couldn’t quite describe. Maybe it was the way his pieces screamed of passion, reflecting his pursuit of something he loved.

Sure enough, Tyler had posted a fresh story showing progress on his mural. A creature was sketched in blue over a pink brick background to lay out the composition. Josh couldn’t help but stare at it longer than he meant to.

Before he could overthink it, he typed a simple message. He hit send before he could talk himself out of it.

Looks sick. Nice progress as usual.

Josh assumed that would be the end of it, the brief distraction from his overwhelming task at hand. But just then, a notification lit up his screen; Tyler’s reply appeared almost instantly.

thanks! means a lot coming from you. :)

A grin tugged at the corner of Josh’s lips. 

No problem .

He started typing before glancing up at the phone’s clock time.

Aren’t you on shift right now though?

Just as quickly, Tyler responded again.

… maybe. 

shh, don’t tell my manager

Josh smiled stupidly. It was light and easy taking away some pressure building in his head. His fingers, once rigid when starting his assignment, relaxed. With his mind clearer now, he turned back to his work.

✲

At first, it seemed innocent enough. In the days that followed, Josh found himself checking Tyler’s social media during homework breaks.

One night, as his eyes grew tired from the endless scrolling through Tyler’s feed, Josh realized how long he’d been browsing. As he clicked out of Instagram, he was greeted with his banking app. That’s when it hit him. Shit. His allowance from his parents had to be running low by now. Josh grimaced thinking of how much he had spent on wine.

Whole Foods had been his go-to for grocery shopping with their health-focused options. The problem? It was expensive.

Walmart was cheap though. For the sake of his college budget, he knew he had to make the switch. Besides, maybe if he shopped at Walmart, Tyler wouldn’t catch him buying nothing but wine. He didn’t know why it even mattered what Tyler thought of him, but the sentiment was there.

Despite some overthinking, Josh landed on his standard blackout gear to wear today; a WrestleMania tee, plain joggers, Nikes, and a silver chain. He didn’t usually care much about his outfit, but something about today made him second-guess it. 

Unlike his usual late-night wine runs, he found himself navigating a store buzzing with activity. Admittedly, his mind quickly slipped to Tyler. Would he be here today? The question distracted him enough to push through the overwhelm of the afternoon Walmart crowd.

When Josh gathered his items and neared the bustling self-checkout area, he spotted Tyler at a distant register. The faux-blonde did a double take seeing Josh, then weaved through the sea of customers to approach him.

“Well, look at you,” he said, raising his brows with a teasing glint. “No wine for today?”

Josh felt a mix of surprise and self-consciousness. “Yeah, well… I guess I have to eat too.” He lowered his gaze and focused on scanning the items.

“Yeah, you look like the kind of guy who’s all about that healthy stuff,” Tyler’s gaze drifted over the contents of Josh’s cart. “Can’t relate, unfortunately. I mostly stick to frozen or takeout. Taco Bell’s my usual go-to.” He shrugged like he was confessing his guilty pleasure. Then he began placing Josh’s items into the plastic bags, not that it was a part of his job as a self-checkout attendant.

“I’m not perfect. Still figuring out this whole cooking for myself thing, first time being away from home.” His eyes flicked to the bags under Tyler’s eyes and paint remnants on his jeans. “You’ve got your hands full with important things, I bet?”

Understanding what he was referring to, Tyler bore a sheepish smirk. He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice, “You know, art stuff. It’s a process.”

With the last of Josh’s groceries loaded into the bags, Tyler handed him his receipt. “Sneak in some junk food here and there, alright? You’re making me feel bad about my three Taco Bell trips this week.”

Josh rolled his eyes, not wanting to overthink it. “No promises,” he said with a grin, grabbing his receipt from Tyler’s hand. “I’ll catch you later, man.”

Tyler gave a small departing wave. “See ya, Joshua.”

Maybe coming back for more wasn’t so bad. 

The next week, Josh found himself back at Walmart, just like before. The smart move would’ve been to get all his groceries in one go. Though he liked his food fresh and plowed through fruits and vegetables like crazy. It was nice to get away from his desk, though there was no denying he kept finding reasons to visit Walmart more often than he should. He couldn’t help but wonder if Tyler might be working again.

Josh added chicken breasts, spinach, tomatoes, and protein powder to his shopping cart absentmindedly. It all seemed fine until his eyes landed on the wine section, and just like that, hesitation crept in. He knew he didn’t need wine, but after a minute of contemplation, the bottle was in his cart. It was sandwiched between a packet of quinoa and a carton of eggs as it would make it any less obvious.

A small part of him wanted to see his cashier acquaintance as an excuse to talk to him again. But another, larger part of him dreaded the thought of him noticing the alcohol.

At the self-checkout, he started scanning his items, moving through them methodically. He kept his head down, but his attention drifted toward the cluster of other Walmart employees.

Tyler was there, laughing with a coworker, his hands busy with a pen and mini sketchbook he always carried. Josh caught himself staring and quickly looked back at the screen.

Wait, shoot. He'd mistakenly scanned the protein twice.

He swore under his breath and tapped the screen to clear the product, but the system demanded assistance. A moment later, someone approached, but it wasn’t Tyler.

“Hello,” A dirty-blond guy about Josh’s age stepped in and took a glance at the screen. “You were trying to remove an item?”

Josh’s frustration vanished as he began to feel weirdly disappointed all of the sudden. “Oh. Uh. I just double scanned this by accident.”

“Gotcha, no problem.” The cashier pulled his name badge forward to scan it. He tapped the screen to clear the error when a voice called out from behind them.

“Mark! You took my customer!” Tyler jogged up.

Mark paused, frowning in confusion, until realization hit. “Huh? Oh—wait. Is this the wine guy?”

Josh froze. The wine guy? Is that what they were calling him now?

Tyler snickered, repeating the phrase under his breath in disbelief.  “Yeah—retired. He grocery shops now.”

Josh forced a laugh, but guilt bloomed in his chest. The wine bottle at the bottom of his cart suddenly felt like a looming cloud over his head, radiating judgment. He prayed that Tyler wouldn’t notice it.

Mark shrugged. “Riiight, okay. My bad, dude. The light was blinking, and someone was too busy getting in trouble for drawing again.”

“Again? How often does this happen?” Josh raised an eyebrow, momentarily distracted. 

“Never,” Tyler answered as Mark then smoothly countered, “All the time,” with words laced with confidence.

Josh chuckled, amused as Tyler rolled his eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to retort, an impatient voice summoned his name.

“Tyler! Can you open a register, please? Just until the lines are down.”

Tyler flashed a cheerful thumbs up in response before turning back to the others again. He sighed dramatically in mock frustration. “Ugh. Let me go get this over with. See ya, Joshua!” He grinned at Josh before walking off. 

“All the time,” Mark repeated with a grin as he reached into Josh’s cart. He then grabbed the wine bottle and accepted the age approval without a word. It was like he didn’t even need to comment, just silently reinforcing what Josh already dreaded; he was the wine guy. Guilt burned as he realized how easily people could see him that way.

He exhaled, shaking his head at himself as he finished bagging his groceries. At least Tyler hadn’t seen it. Saved by the bell, he thought, still feeling the weight of judgment but grateful for the narrow reprieve.

✲

As dumb as it sounded, Walmart had become a place where he could escape, even just for a little while, from the weight of school and career pressures. The stupid little conversations with Tyler felt like a break from his endless expectations.

Another afternoon Josh stepped out into the parking lot with grocery bags in hand. The crisp October air hit him like a reality check. The Walmart doors slid shut behind him, sealing off the little bubble he’d been in for the past half hour. Inside, it was bright, and distracting—an easy place to disappear from responsibilities.

He must be a real pathetic mess if Walmart was what he looked forward to these days.

Now, he was once again back in it. His future. His entire life was mapped out for him in a way that felt less like a path and more like an inevitable march towards something he wished he cared more about. He gritted his teeth and started walking, faster than necessary. 

Josh shoved the door open and rushed into his apartment, ignoring the greetings of Jim and Debby’s cat, Velma. He dumped most of the groceries onto the counter, except for one important bag which he darted to his room. He yanked open his closet door and shoved the bag inside.

If he unpacked it, he’d be drunk before he knew it. The itch was already there, crawling under his skin, tugging at his thoughts.

He needed to move.

Josh grabbed his sneakers, shoving them on haphazardly as he headed for the door. His pulse pounded in his ears. His mind raced too fast to catch a single thought. Just go. Just run.

He thought he heard Debby call out behind him as he yanked the door open, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. His body had already decided that he had to get out.

His shoes hit the pavement in rhythmic thuds, breath fogging in the crisp air. Running helped, kind of. The sport burned through the anxious energy, but the same thoughts chased him no matter how fast he went.

He told himself he wanted the life that his business major would bring him; stability, a respectable career, and a future that made sense on paper. It was a good path.

And yet, every time he tried to picture himself in it, the image never quite fit. But it was fine. It was what he wanted. It had to be.

The thoughts made his breathing worsen, feeling his vision go fuzzy.

The awful panicked feeling forced him to slow to a jog, then a walk. He hadn’t really been paying attention to where he was going, but when he glanced up, he found himself staring at a familiar wall.

Tyler’s mural.

He stopped in his tracks. Seeing it on his phone had been impressive, sure, but standing in front of it now was something else entirely. 

A massive blue dragon dominated the wall, every scale meticulously detailed. Its yellow eyes were alive. Bright flames curled from its nose, shining against the vivid pink background. The layers of paint and spray blended into something bold, textured, and impossible to ignore. It was loud, authentic, and just so Tyler. Josh chuckled at the sloppy handwriting of his signature in the corner, where the word “Trash” was in quotes. He wasn’t sure what it meant but before he could dwell on it, his eyes were pulled back to the dragon. To its energy. To how it made him feel.

Josh felt his body ease, just a little.

Tyler’s art was here in Josh’s life, outside of the confiding walls of Walmart and social media. This thing Tyler had poured himself into was real and standing before him now, pulling Josh out of his head.

He wondered what that felt like to have an outlet that meant something instead of a bottle of cheap wine he hated himself for craving. A former version of himself might have understood, but that person felt like a stranger now.

Instead of pouring another glass, maybe Josh needed to pour himself into something that actually mattered. Something that wouldn’t leave him feeling emptier in the morning.

Tyler seemed to have it all figured out, didn’t he? He had his art, freedom, and ability to care about something.

There was something about him that stuck in Josh’s mind. A part of him wanted to understand it, to grasp how someone could put themselves into something so uniquely curated.

Josh had been telling himself for years that he wanted what was ahead of him, but standing here, looking at Tyler’s work, he wasn’t too sure. And that scared the shit out of him. Not that he had a choice to choose a different path anyway… right?

The only person he was fooling was himself.

Chapter Text

Tyler groaned as golden sunlight pierced through the blinds, hitting him square in the eyes like nature’s own alarm clock. He tossed over to face away from the window, opting for a view of a poster-cluttered wall. He could afford ten more minutes. Not only did he need that extra time to rest, but also to mentally prepare himself for the long day ahead.

Only a few minutes passed before he surrendered, peeping out of his tangled cocoon. His arm extended lazily in search of his phone, ripping the cord from the port and watching the screen light up with the time in the dead center. The display felt like a mockery.

Oh, shoot.

Tyler sprang out of bed. Shoot, shoot, shoot. He was going to be late. As he scrambled to his feet, his ankle twisted in the blanket, nearly taking him down. With a frantic kick, he freed himself, only to trip over a discarded sketchbook. His room was a wreck—papers, brushes, open tubes of paint, a half-finished canvas leaning against the wall. A cup of murky paint water teetered dangerously on his nightstand, threatening to tip as he rushed past.

He pulled his orange beanie over his bedhead. Next, he tore off his sweatpants, almost tripping again when his foot caught in the pant leg. He knew he couldn’t wear them to work like he did to his morning class. Earlier this morning, when he got back to his apartment, his body begged for a full-on coma nap.

"Okay, okay pants, pants, pants." He yanked open a drawer. Empty. Another one. A single sock. Where were his clothes?!

Right. Laundry. He was supposed to do that. Days ago. Maybe a week.

In an instant, Tyler fled down the hall. He stormed into his roommate Jenna’s room, still in his boxers, like a man on a mission. The difference between their spaces was jarring. Her room was annoyingly tidy, with pastels and fairy lights, while Tyler’s mish-mash posters covered every inch of space. Tyler barged in, flinging open her closet.

“Borrowing something!” he announced, digging through her clothes once neatly hung in place.

“Tyler!” Jenna lurched forward at her desk, scrambling to turn her laptop away. “Oh my god, you are so lucky my camera wasn’t facing you. I’m in an online class!” She turned back to glare at him.

“I’m in a crisis!” Tyler, still in his underwear, tossed a skirt over his shoulder and kept digging. 

“You scared me, I didn’t even know you were here.” Jenna sat crisscrossed on her rolly chair, taking a glance at the bottom right corner of the screen. “Shouldn’t you’ve already left for work?”

Tyler grabbed a pair of black jeans but tossed them aside as the numbers on the tag disappointed him. “Yeah, I overslept.”

“It’s almost two.” Bewilderment overtook Jenna’s demeanor the longer she thought about it. “I thought you were up at, like, eight! I swear I saw your light on.”

This was true; Tyler had been up at eight that morning, not because he was waking up, but because he hadn’t gone to bed. After arriving home from work the previous evening, he jumped into his art. The itch to create had been nagging at him all day, and once he started, he couldn’t stop. His night alternated through various projects—commissions, homework, and his personal illustrations—and at no point did he ever worry about the time until sunlight cracked through his window. That’s when he found a good stopping point and headed to bed, not bothering to put away any supplies. 

Yet he stayed up for another hour, mindlessly going down social media rabbit holes on his phone. By the time his seven o’clock alarm for class rang, he was still burning off the energy from three Redbulls. The caffeine buzz was nothing compared to the swarm of butterflies in his stomach when viewing the Instagram page of @joshuadun.

But Jenna didn’t need to know all the details.

All she needed to know was that he got back from class at eleven and crashed the second his head hit the pillow.

“So, you napped,” Jenna corrected him.

“Same thing.” Then, in Tyler’s hands, he was met with a wide-legged pair of pants with a copper flannel pattern seam to seam. He held them up, frowning at his fate.

“You’re really gonna rock the cowgirl pants today?”

“Do you not have any other clean pants my size?” Tyler whined, throwing his head back.

“Hey, I don’t think my laundry keep-up is the issue here,” Jenna deadpanned while Tyler shimmied into her pants. They were a little snug at the waist, but they’d have to do. He then grabbed a black short-sleeved button-up from her closet. Throwing it over his white tee shirt, he hoped it would save this outfit.

He smiled down at its golden dragon design and rushed out the door.

“Kay, thanks, bye!”

His only goal was to make it to work before the nine-minute grace period was over. Associates had nine minutes to clock in after their scheduled start time without receiving a reprimand. The other option was to use his protected paid time off to cover the tardy… but he’d used it up the last few times he was late.

Tyler burst through the Walmart doors, his ridiculous plaid pants swished with every frantic step. He skidded to a stop at the customer service desk where his Team Lead stood, clipboard in hand.

“There you are. I need you to take over at GM. Are you even clocked in yet?”

Tyler scrambled to grab his work phone to shove it in his manager’s face. “Yes, I’m—” He wheezed. “—right on time! Clocked in from the parking lot.” 

He barely registered how his manager glared at him, already power-walking toward his self-checkout station. Tyler finally took a moment to catch his breath, then threw on his vest as Mark strolled up.

“Cutting it real close, man.” He clapped a hand on Tyler’s back. “Did you oversleep again?”

“I’m here, that’s all that matters, right?” Tyler planted his fists onto his hips in dramatic bravado.

“Okay, dodge my question,” Mark hoisted his hands up in defeat, “I already got my answer after seeing those pants.”

Peeking down at his attire, Tyler couldn’t suppress a bashful grin. He playfully shoved his coworker’s arm. “Whatever, man. Go take your break!”

“Is that what you’re here for?” Mark’s phone beeped as he switched it off and tucked it in his pocket. “I hope you’re ready, it’s been a nightmare today. Everybody’s been buying last-minute Halloween candy.”

Tyler scanned the store, only seeing the usual lunch-hour crowd. “Doesn’t look too crazy.”

“Yeah? Give it a few minutes.” Giving a firm consolidation pat on the shoulder, Mark took off.

✲

Unfortunately, over the next few hours, the universe decided to prove Mark right.

The self-checkout section was a war zone. An elderly woman was jabbing her finger on the screen, muttering about how it ‘wasn’t taking her damn coupons.’ Next, a group of teenagers cursed at him for not approving the age restriction for Robitussin. It seemed like every other interaction placed him in some predicament. They always seemed to glare at Tyler at any inconvenience, like he was some kind of nuisance.

Work was normally tolerable—certain regulars made it worthwhile—but on days like today, the store felt unbearable. But then rent would be due. Then groceries. Then the car needed gas. And unlike almost all the other college kids he knew, there was no safety net waiting to catch him. With no familial support, quitting wasn’t a viable option.

His work phone vibrated in his hand, alerting him that the scale on SCO 45 required his attention. Those damn scales. Just weigh the stupid bananas! Maybe this was a sign that he needed to drop the art dream and pursue acting, the way he could conjure up a happy-go-lucky demeanor on the spot.

All evening, Tyler had been motivating himself with his lunch break. First, just one more hour, then ten more minutes. He became antsier and antsier the closer it got, looking over at customer service often in hopes that he’d catch a glimpse of someone heading over to relieve him.

The lines would die down intermittently until another flock of shoppers flooded in. He was exhausted, his legs ached, his social battery was drained, and he was starving. That was all he could process until another customer demanded his assistance.

It was going to be a long night. 

He didn’t even know how long he’d been with this lady, but it was certainly far too long. 

Everything that could’ve gone wrong had gone wrong. This middle-aged woman flagged him down because the register wasn’t accepting cash. Tyler bit his tongue as she became adamant that the card-only message wasn’t there when she walked up. Whatever.

Tyler then suspended the order and transferred the items to another register, walking away amid hearing another groan from the lady. The bill was jammed in a slot that only a Team Lead could access, so after the manager resolved the issue, Tyler was left to sustain her petulance all over again.

He managed to retreat into catching up on other occupied lanes, but it wasn’t long before she hollered for him to come back over. You’ve got to be kidding me. 

This time, the woman was fuming that the register didn’t dispense all of her change. Tyler wasn’t honestly sure who was more pissed off between the two of them by this point.

He tracked down his manager again, who handed over the remaining cash. Then, all hell broke loose when the woman noticed she still hadn’t been given the correct total.

By now, Tyler had closed in on himself as the woman berated him for something he was powerless over. She was causing a scene, and everyone in their vicinity tuned in. They were mostly awestruck by her behavior, but Tyler couldn’t help but feel like all of the eyes were on him. His manager had spent ages trying to calm her down. They confirmed that Tyler hadn’t miscounted the change, but she kept squawking about his incompetence.

“I don’t know how people like you will ever function in this world,” she spat. “You can’t even count simple change?”

Tyler was never one to dwell on the nasty comments, however, her slander infiltrated his mind. Some of the insults hit a little too close to home. The familiar cadence rhymed with words he was told in the past, the phrases he knew all too well. 

“You’re not always gonna have people who clean up your messes!” She gestured to Tyler’s manager, but it felt like she was alluding to something much larger.

That voice in his head twisted his gut into knots. Tears began to well in his eyes, but he couldn’t dare to let them fall. He gripped onto his slipping composure like a vice, but the pressure inside stung harder and harder.

I didn’t even do anything wrong…  

“You’re wasting your life.” The woman shoved a finger toward him. “Nobody waits for someone that’s going nowhere!”

He was too entangled in his feelings to remember that there were still registers that needed tending to. A chime emitted from the device in his hand and grabbed his attention.

lane 47: age check

The notification made him instinctively look that way. The sight caused his heart to sink deep.

Oh no. No no no…

There stood Joshua, one hand anxiously fiddling with his labret piercing. A bottle of wine sat on the checkout counter beside his license. On an average day, Tyler would have teased him for still always insisting on showing his ID, but all Tyler could do now was stand like a deer in headlights as they both locked eyes. 

Being the first to look away, Joshua turned a blind eye to the scene. He shifted his weight where he stood idly.

Tyler couldn’t make sense of his expression. Was he judging him? Was it pity? Did he think Tyler was weak, too much of a mess to handle? Joshua was always polite, but what if this changed the way he viewed him? It was too fleeting, too hard to decipher, and the uncertainty of Joshua’s unspoken opinion gnawed at him. Whatever it was, it hit him like a hot tidal wave of embarrassment. 

What mattered was that Joshua had seen him like this, being talked down to, like a powerless child scolded by their parents. He averted his gaze to hide the stray tears that began involuntarily streaming down his cheeks. He raised a hand and quickly swept them away.

“Oh my god, there is no way you’re crying,” The lady huffed out a dry laugh in disbelief. “If you screw up and can’t take it when someone calls you out on it, you need to grow up!”

He had been told those words before.

Tyler’s vision swam. He knew he was making a fool of himself in front of these bystanders. In front of his bosses and nosy, spying colleagues. In front of Joshua. The vulnerability he tried so hard to keep hidden was being exposed. Layer by layer, fragile parts of him were laid bare. Each pair of eyes stripped away another bed of the armor he so carefully maintained. The defeatism of it all teetered on the edge of pulling him under. 

Just as his mask threatened to slip completely, a voice cut through the noise.

“Tyler.” 

Tyler blinked rapidly, realizing his Team Lead was speaking to him, and the woman was gone. One minute, she was tearing into him, and now, nothing. He should have felt relieved, but the familiar unease of cut contact crept in. In the past, he told himself he had walked away from people for a good reason, of being cruel and making him feel like this. But what if the common denominator in all these messes was him? By being humiliated again and again, he was only proving his parents’ point. 

“Go take a second, alright?” She instructed. Tyler had never seen this manager showcase so much sympathy, but it was indubitably present now. “I’ll get someone to cover you for lunch as soon as I can, I promise.”

He turned on autopilot, moving like he was underwater, but something made him glance back at Joshua’s register. The wine sat abandoned on the counter, but Joshua was nowhere to be seen. Tyler’s breath caught. He glanced at the screen and saw the transaction was canceled. His pulse hammered in his ears.

Joshua left.

Joshua had probably given up waiting. He had seen Tyler like this and decided he didn’t want to deal with it. Tyler couldn’t blame him either, he was taking forever, standing there pathetically as the woman publicly crucified him.

Tyler’s mind replayed the memory of Joshua’s conduct like a broken record. The shame intensified with each step he took towards the restrooms.

✲

The instant his manager waved him off for break, Tyler was gone. He slipped out like a ghost, too drained to process anything but relief. His head buzzed from everything that had happened. 

The automatic doors swished shut as he entered the parking lot, inhaling deeply as if the fresh October air could somehow wipe the past hour from his memory. Silently praying for the night to end, he shut his eyes tight. When he opened them, there he was, dressed in his usual attire.

Joshua. 

Tyler halted abruptly as the brunette neared with hands concealed behind his back.

Oh god. He saw.

With puffy eyes, a blotchy face, and stress practically radiating off him, Tyler knew he looked awful. What made it worse was that Joshua had seen him in an even more vulnerable state just twenty minutes ago. What was he doing here now?

“I, uh… were you going to your meal break?” Joshua’s feet shifted as he spoke.

His brain was barely working; Tyler forgot to respond. Instead, he clocked the two paper bags that Joshua was holding behind him.

The man in black followed his gaze and cleared his throat, pulling the bags forward. “I, uh— I heard your boss talking to you about it, so… I got this for you.”

No way. There was no way. Joshua wasn’t just holding any takeout. Tyler recognized the fast food logo instantly. Joshua remembered.

After the absolute disaster of a shift, after everything, someone had actually thought about him? Brought him something just because? 

Joshua’s eyes anxiously darted across his features. Seeing this, Tyler realized he was just standing there, frozen like an idiot.

“Sorry, I— I wasn’t expecting that. You seriously got me Taco Bell? ” 

“Yeah. Thought you might, uh… need something good today.” The bags crinkled as he talked. “It’s on the house, so don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you,” Tyler smiled for what felt like the first time all day. Especially grateful that Joshua wasn’t asking for payment, Tyler knew he couldn’t afford it. A visible relief spread across Joshua’s shoulders as he relaxed.

“Where do you normally eat lunch?” 

“Oh. Usually my car,” he sniffled, regaining some fortitude.

“Cool. Duh, uh—” Joshua’s fingers toyed with a silver fidget ring as he talked. “Did you want me to eat with you? It’s fine if not. I didn’t know if that’d be weird.”

Tyler’s heart swelled. “Yeah, I mean yeah, you can come! It wouldn’t be weird, just— c’mon!” His hands snatched one of the bags from Joshua’s hands while dashing past him.

With rejuvenation, Tyler led the way across the parking lot. The wrung-out fatigue from his shift that once consumed him faded further away.

Soon enough, he arrived at the well-loved, slightly dented Toyota Camry. “Technically, it's my roommate’s car.” He looked up to see Joshua a few paces behind him on the passenger side. “But we share it, so, you know, basically mine.”

Letting a courteous pause hang in the air first, Joshua entered the car. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I just got a few different things.”

Tyler tore into the bag like a kid on Christmas. “Oh my gosh, this is like one of those surprise unboxing videos!”

The paper rustled as he dug through the contents, taking a peek at the items inside the wrappers. Each time he recognized something, his face lit up more than before—especially when he opened the Crunchwrap Supreme that was buried underneath the rest.

When unwrapping the Crunchwrap and taking a massive bite, Tyler finally noticed Joshua staring at him, a little stunned.

Muffled by a mouthful of food, Tyler blinked at him and asked with innocence, “What?”

“Nothing.” A hint of amusement sprinkled across Josh’s words.

“Listen, man. Taco Bell is my love language.” Like an animal, Tyler licked the cheese off his thumb. “What’d you get yourself?”

The packaging rustled as Joshua’s hands unveiled his food. “I don’t even know. Some bean burrito? And, uh, a few other things.”

“That one is good. One of the simpler things on the menu, but solid.” Tyler realized he’d been staring, probably making the poor guy uncomfortable. He shifted his gaze, eyes wandering as he took in the details.

“I was so distracted that I didn’t even notice I forgot to turn the car on. It’s freezing.”

The ignition roared to life, unleashing a barrage of heavy metal music from the speakers. Joshua’s flinch was so hard that he nearly dropped his food.

“Jesus—” Joshua hissed, gripping the dashboard like they’d just been rear-ended.

A grin stretched across Tyler’s face, and he turned the volume down. “Whoops. Forgot I left it that loud.”

“I didn’t peg you as someone with such intense music taste.”

Tyler narrowed his eyes. “Now what’s it supposed to mean?”

He caught Joshua shooting a glance at the Muppets-themed air freshener dangling off the rearview mirror. Across the top, in glittery rainbow letters, it read: “IT’S NOT EASY BEING THIS FRESH.” Kermit was front and center, throwing up peace signs.

“Nothing,” Joshua cleared his throat. “Do you have any hearing left?”

“WHAT?” Playing into the joke, Tyler raised his voice like he couldn’t hear the question.

“Ha. Ha.” Joshua rolled his eyes, smiling.

They continued the small talk as time flew by. Tyler demolished his meal like he’d been starved for days. In contrast, Joshua only picked at his food, barely touching anything. Tyler noticed but didn’t judge. Some people just weren’t built for Taco Bell annihilation.

“How much time do you have left for your break?” Joshua asked, unintentionally breaking the dam of dread pooling in Tyler’s stomach. 

He pulled out his phone and frowned when the time appeared on the lock screen. A soft groan escaped him as he slid down in the seat. “Just a few minutes. I should probably start heading back…”

He began gathering his trash, trying his damndest not to overthink too much, but his mind led him astray. Apprehension crept in the longer his gaze fell back to the store taunting him from outside of the window. He couldn’t help but picture himself being berated by another plethora of snippy customers for insignificant reasons. It was a miracle that Joshua reacted well, but he knew other customers and coworkers well enough to know they were never that kind. None of them would ever go the lengths that Joshua had for him tonight, and for that, he was so very grateful.

Feeling the tension in his muscles, Tyler snapped out of his looming distress. Suddenly, everything felt far too quiet, much too still. He turned to his right and noticed that Joshua hadn’t moved. The darkly dressed man sat straight in the seat, surveying him with worry in his brow. What’s that face for?

Joshua scratched his beard for a moment of procrastination before asking, “Are… you okay?”

Without thinking, Tyler’s eyes drifted back toward the Walmart entrance. That awful, inevitable pull dragged at his feet. “Yeah. It’s whatever.”

“That lady was insane,” Joshua’s reminder challenged a reluctant recollection of the day’s events.

“Yeah, welcome to Walmart. I know you’re new here, but this stuff happens almost every day. I should be used to it by now,” Tyler dismissed with a bitter laugh. Confusion brewed inside him when Josh’s expression looked more hurt than before.

“That shouldn’t be the case, though. You shouldn’t have to be used to it,” Joshua began. Tyler’s gaze fell to his lap as Joshua cautiously asked an additional question, “I know it’s probably not that easy, but have you thought about getting another job?”

Without even realizing it, Tyler began anxiously picking at the skin of his thumb. “Sure I have, but I mean—I guess I’m just trying to stick it out until I graduate next school year. I think I can make it. It’s just something to pay the bills for now till I can find something better, y’know?” He caught Joshua nodding along from the blur of his periphery. “Besides, it’s not normally so bad, I don’t hate it. You just caught me at a really bad time today.”

The store’s fluorescent buzzing lights beckoned him like a siren’s song. In his head, he replayed the woman’s scathing words that dug under his skin. No matter how he tried to shake it off, the idea clung to him that maybe she wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“Nothing she said is true, by the way. Don’t dwell on it,” Joshua murmured, his voice quieter now but no less firm.

Emitting a theatrical groan, Tyler dragged a hand down his face, “Ugh, I know...” The words came out paper-thin, barely holding weight.

Joshua didn’t let the subject drop so easily. Leaning forward, the red-dyed brunette continued with that same quiet intensity that drew Tyler in. “Seriously. You’re a hard worker, you do everything you can. And you’ve always been nice to me anyway.” His tone softened, but there was something solid beneath it. “I can tell you’re a good person, you don’t deserve being treated like that.”

Something caught in Tyler’s throat. A gentle sense of solace, foreign yet grounding, unfurled in his chest. He had no clue how to respond to something so kind.

“The worst thing I’ve seen you do is draw while on the clock,” Joshua exhaled, probably trying to fill the silence that his last statement brought about.

It worked, causing Tyler to chuckle after him. “Right? Any day now, they’ll toss me out on the streets for drawing one too many figure studies.”

As Joshua let out an amused huff, Tyler found it easier to retrieve his phone and clock in. The act felt less like a burden and more like a manageable passing task. Slipping the device back into his pocket, he then opened the door and hopped out of the car. Joshua followed closely behind. Tyler came around to the front of the vehicle, where he then turned to face his friend. 

“Hey, before you go,” he started, fidgeting with the strap of his tote bag draping over his shoulder, “I, uh… appreciate you being so cool about everything. You seriously didn’t have to do any of this for me, but you did.” The sentiment cast a fuzzy feeling through his chest as the two of them exchanged a cordial smile. Tyler’s grin was the first to dissipate as anxiety crept onto his tongue. “And this is kinda random, but sorry about making you wait for the age approval earlier for your wine. I was so out of it, honestly. I didn’t even hear my work phone going off.” His mouth rattled on automatically.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. You honestly did me a favor. I’d much rather be here than wallowing alone in my room all night.” The stillness amid his words sang a song of a bigger story.

Wallowing? 

Unsure of what prompted him, Tyler began speaking before his thoughts could catch up with his words. “Can I give you a hug?”

Joshua could not have looked more caught off guard. His brain seemed to short-circuit as he just stood there, nodding while hardly moving. Tyler advanced forward and wrapped his arms around his friend. The juncture froze, with Joshua going stiff like a deer in headlights. Meanwhile, Tyler barely noticed, lost in the overwhelming gratitude bubbling in his chest.

“Thank you.” He spoke into Joshua’s broad shoulder. Then he lagged for a beat before pulling back.

The raw emotions surged once more. Tyler wiped his face, then laughed when he saw Joshua still frozen and wide-eyed. 

Tyler, feeling lighter than he had all day, just smiled to himself. He pulled out the blue vest from his tote bag and slipped it on. Meanwhile, Joshua just swayed his arms, acting like he didn’t know what to do with them. Gradually, a smile unfurled across his face, its depth radiating a warmth of unguarded sincerity. The shadow of his usual mysterious nature unfolded.

“See you later, Joshua!” Tyler called over his shoulder, his steps light and buoyant as he trod towards Walmart. He didn’t have to turn to know that Joshua remained rooted to his spot, still motionless and caught by surprise.

✲

As Josh retreated into his apartment, the familiar creek of the door sounded a little lighter than usual. He tossed the half-eaten Taco Bell bag onto the counter while Jim greeted him inside.

Shaking his head, he thought about how the night had unfolded in a way he hadn’t anticipated. The image of Tyler’s face, glowing with genuine happiness at something as simple as fast food, clung to his mind. He hadn’t expected that doing something kind would feel so much more fulfilling than the numbing wine he had originally set out to buy.

“Hey Debby,” he called, taking off his black jacket. “I got Taco Bell leftovers if you want them.”

There was a shuffle from her room, followed by a confused, “You what?” Debby emerged quickly, expression somewhere between suspicion and amusement. “You never get fast food. What’s going on?”

“The food is just super unhealthy, I didn’t wanna finish it.” A sudden wave of self-consciousness washed over him as his roommate quirked an eyebrow. “I, uh—didn’t really get it for myself.’’ He already regretted how weird that sounded.

She pried with caution. “Then… who’d you get it for?” 

“Just… my—uh. My cashier. Friend. I don’t know.” He exhaled sharply, realizing how dumb that sounded. “A guy from Walmart. I mean—I know his name. Tyler. It’s Tyler.”

Debby’s stare gradually gave way to a goofy grin. “Dude. What?”

A groan escaped Josh as he dropped onto the living room couch and watched Debby dig into the Taco Bell bag. He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off his face. The memory of Tyler’s reaction stayed with him—the way he lit up, the sound of his laughter, and how Josh felt proud of his actions for the first time in a while.

“I thought you were running low on allowance money?”

Josh blinked. “Uh… yeah.”

She chewed carefully. “But you’re spending it on this Tyler?"

Mouth opening then closing, his stomach did a weird little flip. “I mean…”

A smirk tugged at Debby’s lips. “Interesting.”

Josh waved it off, but Debby held her relentless gaze, chewing slowly like she was waiting for him to slip up and say something incriminating. It took a minute for Josh to notice that he was just sitting there smiling like an idiot. 

At the realization, a chill slithered down his spine, a prickling unease that unsettled him to the core. He shouldn’t be this happy. The moment he caught himself feeling good, the guilt sank in. He had things to worry about: deadlines, obligations, his future. He couldn’t afford to sit around reminiscing.

His eyes landed on the flashcards stacked neatly on the coffee table. Right. I have a mock interview coming up. Grabbing the pile, he stood to Debby with great certitude. “Are you still free to quiz me?”

Debby spoke with her mouth full. “Right now?”

“Yeah. I just wanna get it over with,” Josh muttered.

Debby sighed but relented, pushing aside the food and taking the flashcards. “Fine, but I gotta get ready soon. I’m getting some drinks with friends tonight, so I can’t tolerate ‘Perfectionist Josh.’”

Mind cloudy, Josh nodded to whatever Debby said. He took the barstool opposite Debby and straightened his posture. 

She cleared her throat, adopting an exaggerated, professional tone. “Alright, Mr. Dun, let’s start with something easy. Tell me a little about yourself.”

“Well,” choosing his words carefully, he started while clasping his hands together tightly.. “I’m a double business major focusing on finance and econ with an interest in corporate investment sales.” God, he sounded like a LinkedIn profile.

“Fascinating,” Debby deadpanned, uninterested but doing her job. “And what are your strengths?”

“I’d say I’m a hard worker, detail-oriented, and highly adaptable in fast-paced environments. I work well in a team but also take initiative when necessary.” He hated how easy it was to regurgitate answers he didn’t believe in. How he could sit here and say everything he was supposed to, knowing damn well it wasn’t him.

“Mhm.” Debby flipped to the next card. “And where do you see yourself in five years?”

His body tensed. This was the question he hated most. Because the truth was, in five years, he knew exactly where he’d be: sitting in the office, in the job his parents had already lined up for him. And even though he told himself this was what he wanted—because of course it was, it was what he was supposed to want—the thought of it made his throat dry. He regretted not having bought that wine earlier.

Debby’s teasing demeanor faltered into concern. “Josh?”

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “I- uh…”

Seeing right through him, Debby lowered the flashcards. “Hey. Chill.”

“I am chill,” Josh said, too quickly. His jaw felt tight.

She studied him for a beat, then set the stack aside. “You’re stressing yourself out. We’re taking a break.”

Josh shook his head. His pulse was still weirdly high, and his mind was still buzzing. He needed to shut it up. “Can I come with you tonight?” he asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“To the bar,” he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck.

Debby gave him a look. “Josh.” He avoided her gaze. She sighed, crossing her arms. “Look, if you’re only coming to get wasted like that, you shouldn’t come.”

Josh leaned forward to press his palms up to his eyelids. 

“We can do something fun later when I’m more free. Lunch or whatever. Something not about drinking,” Debby’s voice softened. 

Josh exhaled slowly. “…Okay.”

She nudged his knee with her foot under the counter. “For real, quit spiraling. Interview’s over for tonight.”

Josh nodded, but his thoughts had already wandered. Just earlier, he was so happy. Laughing with Tyler, watching him get so excited about something so simple. That was real. And yet, here he was, right back where he started, drowning under the weight of a predetermined future.

This school. This job. He would always come back to it.

Debby sighed, setting her flashcards down. “You’ve been really stressed lately, you know that?”

Josh blinked. “I’m fine.”

“Dude. No, you’re not. You didn’t used to be like this.” She gave him a flat look. “Which is why we’re taking a break. We’ll go to that nasty protein bowl place you like, on me.”

Josh shook his head. “You hate that place.”

“Yeah, well, you like it.” She crossed her arms.

He hesitated, then sighed. “Okay.”

Debby pointed at him. “Good. Now, no more interview talk. Go do something that isn’t studying or drinking.”

Josh nodded again, but his mind was already slipping away from the conversation—back to earlier in the night, to Taco Bell and Tyler’s stupid, dorky grin. Back to how, for just a moment, he’d actually felt happy.

Chapter Text

“I don’t get the hype about this place,” Debby’s voice dripped with mock disdain. “Everything is all… organic-y. It’s like they forgot what real food is supposed to taste like.”

The afternoon sun did little to warm Ohio’s fall weather, and the nippy air seeped through the thick fabric of their jackets. Debby walked beside Josh, her arms folded as they approached his favorite café. She skimmed over the menu posted outside with a scrunched nose.

Glancing at the menu himself, Josh let out a chuckle. “It’s actually balanced,” he explained, more out of habit than actual need to defend it. “Good protein and healthy fats.”

“If you say so.” She shook her head melodramatically but was already moving forward. “The point is we’re here to have fun. Remember, we’re supposed to be getting your mind off of things, so no school talk, job talk, or… health talk allowed. Nothing that’s gonna get you all stressed out.” Her hand brushed back strands of auburn hair taken by the wind, tucking it behind her ear as best she could. 

Josh exhaled hard, watching his breath fog into the air. It was hard not to worry about finals when they were just a few weeks away. The looming schoolwork preyed on him with each approaching due date. 

He was brewing a response, but he spotted a familiar figure through the café window’s reflection before he could articulate a sentence. 

Despite not sporting his typical loud beanie, Tyler was still impossible to miss as he talked animatedly with his hands. His eyes were crinkled by his smile, making them beam with a soft, honeyed hue. Behind him, he strolled alongside a woman whose face was just out of Josh’s view. Her long blonde hair, tied up into a ponytail, bounced and swayed with each step she took to match his pace.

This was the first time he’d seen Tyler outside of the context of their random store interactions. Gone was the blue vest and sterile shine of fluorescent lights. Instead, Tyler walked under the afternoon sun, his dyed hair ruffled slightly by the breeze. It nearly glowed white in this lighting. He wore a bright pink hoodie beneath a flannel coat, with dark pants marked with faded blue-black stains matching his mural. Josh was accustomed to the discord of Tyler’s attire by now, so only the little bow of his tied hoodie strings stood out to him. For whatever reason, he found it endearing. 

Josh didn’t notice he was staring until his roommate had gone quiet and turned to him in confusion.

Debby followed his gaze, letting out a delighted Oh! before waving over that way. “Hey, guys!” She called out.

Bemused, Josh made a double take in Tyler’s direction. The off-the-clock-cashier was caught by surprise for a split second, but then his face brightened immensely. At the sudden eye contact, Josh quickly glanced away, his attention landing on the person walking next to Tyler. That’s when it dawned on him that he had seen this girl hanging around his apartment with Debby. Jenna, was it? Tyler and Jenna knew each other?

Jenna flashed a friendly smile and steered course in their direction while Tyler clumsily staggered behind like he couldn’t decipher her route. After finding his footing, he lifted a hand to wave. Josh mirrored the motion, both of them stuck in a silent, weirdly formal exchange. 

“Hey, Debs!” Reaching them first, she chirped a greeting and offered a courteous Hi to Josh. She didn’t miss a beat before asking, “What’re you two up to?”

“Just trying to get this guy out of the house,” Debby explained, upwardly nudging Josh’s taller shoulder. “We needed a break from studying, so we’re getting lunch.”

Jenna’s icy blue pupils flicked to the café. “Oh, I thought you didn’t like this place?”

Debby sighed. “Not really. I let Josh pick. I’ll power through for him.”

“Give it a fair shot! You know I’m not super into this kind of stuff, but they actually know what they’re doing with their ingredients. I’ve been dying to go again.” She craned her neck to her counterpart, ponytail whipping to her side. “But this guy won’t go with me. He sucks.”

“Sorry, I prefer my food to have flavor. I’ll stick to my Crunchwraps,” Tyler affirmed, flashing Josh a knowing look. 

Debby peeked up at her roommate just in time to catch his reactionary grin. “See, that’s what I was just sayin’.”

“To each their own, I guess,” concluded Jenna, targeting a playful eye roll at her friend. “You and your Crunchwraps, good lord… That’s actually where we’re headed. We have a couple of errands to run before Thanksgiving break, and then we’re getting celebratory Taco Bell. Bet you can guess whose idea that was.” 

“You weren’t lying when you said Taco Bell was your go-to.” Josh crossed his arms in Tyler’s direction. Tyler tsked and dropped his chin deeper into his jacket, shielding himself from the cold.

The autumn wind howled, biting the edges of the conversation. “Seriously, it’s an addiction.” Jenna’s voice was light but amused. Not a moment was spared as she changed subjects, seizing the opportunity to expose a residing thought. “Josh, this is, like, the most I’ve ever seen of you. You’re always holed up in your room when I’m over. Good to finally talk to you.” The breeze stilled as the spotlight shifted to Josh.

“Heh, yeah. Good to see you, too,” He murmured, discomforted by the reminder of how he was perceived lately. 

Josh braced himself for judgment, but instead, she appeared entirely unperturbed, cordial even. “Maybe we can get lunch here without the picky eaters sometime.”

Warming up to her genial smile, Josh relaxed his shoulders. “Sure, I’m down.”

“You guys go have fun with that. I’ll go have Taco Bell with Tyler,” Debby teased before facing Jenna more head-on. “Speaking of break, what are your plans?”

Jenna rubbed her gloved hands together for warmth as she talked. “Oh, we’re just going to my parents’ house. What about you?” 

“I’m going to my brother’s, leaving tomorrow.” Her boot grazed Josh’s sneaker. “And Josh is going home too. Right?”

Josh nodded lamely, more interested in Tyler, who had seemed unusually meek all of a sudden. Shielding himself with his friend's shoulder, he kept both arms crossed tautly against his chest. The sight was far from the quick-witted, chatty cashier Josh had grown to know. To keep him from feeling ostracized from the conversation, he asked, “What about you, Tyler? Got any plans?”

Before Tyler could react, Jenna did. Her eyes landed on Tyler’s face, studying his expression like a hawk. An arm smoothly hooked through his in a subtle grounding gesture. Josh wasn’t sure why it stuck with him, but it did.

“Oh, uh, I’m going with Jenna.” He tried to sound casual, slightly leaning into her shoulder. It was odd to see him without his usual effortless ease, like a performer who had momentarily forgotten his lines.

Glancing between the two blondes, he really observed them. They looked like a perfect match. Jenna carried an air of quiet protectiveness — not possessive, but anchoring. And Tyler, usually so self-assured, seemed content in her shadow. The realization was oddly dissonant. He convinced himself their closeness was sweet, but before he could catch it, a frown weighed down his lips.

“We aren’t doing anything special,” Tyler added, shuffling his hands in his pockets.

Jenna scoffed, gently elbowing his side with her linked arm. “Um, yes we are, guys. We’re doing an early birthday dinner for him at home with my family. Don’t let him fool you, it’s super exciting.”

Trying hard not to overthink the duo’s affinity, Josh nodded while Debby spoke up. “Ooh, that’ll be fun. Are you doing anything on your actual birthday, then? It’s after break, right?” 

Did Debby know Tyler, too? Josh narrowed his eyes, feeling out of the loop as he tried to follow along.

“Yeah, n’ I guess so.” His arm moved inward to pull Jenna closer. “Jenna’s got a whole plan, she’s throwing me a party at the apartment or something.” Josh could see the gears turning in Tyler’s head as he worked himself up to make his next move. For the first time since he approached, he looked Josh square in the face. “It would be cool if you guys came. Uh, if you want to.”

A small smile crept across Josh’s features, followed by an unsettling realization. This would be the first time they intentionally hung out. Away from beeping registers, this meet-up would be purposeful. Without being able to pinpoint why, he felt both elated and apprehensive at the same time. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The relief softened Tyler’s demeanor, and his friend seemed satisfied enough to unlatch from his arm. “Awesome, that’s perfect! I think I'm more excited for this than Ty is.” Her attention landed back on Debby and Josh. “Anyway, we won’t hold you up too long, We should get going. But it’s good seeing you guys! I’ll text you two when I figure out the rest of the plan.” 

“Sounds good. Good luck with the errands!” Debby waved goodbye as the group parted ways. 

Just before Josh departed, Tyler glanced back and called out to both of them, “See you guys later.” Then his gaze shifted to focus directly onto Josh. He sang in an upbeat tempo, “Bye, Joshua!” 

Josh raised his palm and replied a soft “bye,” cracking a tiny grin as he turned to match Debby’s pace. The promise of escaping the cold weather was relieving as they strolled toward the cafe. Walking now, Josh caught the way Debby glared at him with suspicious astonishment. “Dude. What was that?”

Genuinely perplexed, he blinked at her blankly. “W-what?”

Debby’s lips went agape in disbelief, clearly unable to comprehend how Josh wasn’t picking up on whatever had transpired. She assumed he was feigning ignorance, but Josh was, in fact, completely lost. “No, no, no. Let’s hurry up and get our food so we can talk about whatever the hell just happened back there. C’mon.”

Debby eagerly pushed open the door to the restaurant, holding it wide open.  As he stepped in, he felt like he was walking straight into the eye of a storm. Crossing into the threshold meant there was no turning back from whatever Debby was on about.

✲

The wait for their food felt endless, with each passing second torturous for different reasons. Debby was a ticking bomb that Josh could tell was ready to explode at any given moment. His stomach twisted into knots, not only because he was hungry but also because he wasn’t sure what he expected her to say. What could have possibly sparked such a reaction from her after such a simple conversation?

As they received their meals, Josh’s protein bowl looked just how he imagined it. But the meal he had looked forward to was overshadowed by Debby’s tangible anticipation. Once they found an empty booth to squeeze into, the silence was deafening. Debby took a prolonged sip of her water. Josh made the mistake of making eye contact, ultimately pulling the pin on the grenade.

“Okay,” She exhaled, straightening her posture. It was redundant as she immediately leaned forward, arms propped on the edge of the table. “Apparently, we have a bunch to catch up on. How is it that you stay in your room all day, yet there’s still new stuff that I don’t know about you?” Josh took a cautious nibble of his chicken as he awaited more context. “You and Tyler, dude. What’s up with that?”

Regardless of her tone, Josh hardly had a clue what she was getting at. After a moment of thought, he figured he should understand the extent of her intentions. “Oh, I met him a few months ago. Didn’t know you and Jenna knew him too.”

He was taken aback by Debby’s flat “Oh.” She lifted a fork, finally taking a small bite of her food. “So that’s it?” 

Under the table, Josh’s leg bounced.

“Um, yeah. I mean…” He briefly trailed off. “He’s shown me some of his drawings n’ stuff; he’s incredible. I dunno, I think it’s cool.”

Debby agreed in the form of brisk nods. “Yeah, I follow his art account. He’s pretty good.” There was certainly truth behind her words, though she expressed it lamely. Something else was clearly occupying her mind.

They both silently chewed their food while some indie-pop song played from an overhead speaker. Mere seconds went by before she could no longer forbid herself from wondering aloud. “So why does he get to call you Joshua?”

Josh nearly snorted out a laugh. “Damn, why’d you say it like that?”

“Because-” she came to her own defense as she recalled a previous incident. “Last time I called you Joshua, you said you’d give my room to Jim and Velma if I didn’t cut it out.”

The memory replayed in his mind, amusing a smirk from his lips. “I don’t know, I guess it’s fine when he says it… he doesn’t know any better.”

“Where did he even get that from?” asked Debby. “Everybody just calls you Josh.”

Without delay, Josh gave the straightforward answer. “My license.” 

Upon studying Debby’s unbroken stare, it registered that she was right earlier—he had very much kept her out of the loop. “He has to check it when I get my drinks, so he’s only ever seen my full name… he works at Walmart,” he clarified with a lack of confidence that could’ve passed it off as a question rather than a statement.

Sure enough, that seemed to be the answer she was looking for. Josh could practically see the glow of the lightbulb going off inside her head. “My Cashier. Friend. I don’t know,” Debby repeated Josh’s phrasing from a while ago. “That Tyler you were talking about has been Jenna’s Tyler this whole time?” 

Jenna’s Tyler… The title stung his mind.

“Oh my God. Why am I so dumb?” she mumbled, fingers brushing over her temple. “The Taco Bell on that Monday night, that should’ve…” abruptly, her words came to a halt. There went another lightbulb. “You bought Tyler Taco Bell.”

Josh’s hands fidgeted with his fork, feeling drowned out by the conversing voices around the restaurant. He attempted to aim his attention at his food before inevitably peeking back up at his friend. 

That final look that she served back at him housed the tiniest knowing glint. Like everything else in his life lately, he suppressed his emotions. It’s what he does best. “What?” he asked just above a whisper, picking at his lunch once more.

“Hm, nothing.” Although her lips were clamped together, it did little to hide the growing grin on her face. “So, like… Why don’t you just tell him about your name?”

The fork fell onto the bowl as Josh buried his head in his hands. He nearly whined, “I don’t have the heart to tell him…”

“Then I guess you’re stuck as Joshua till you speak up,” she shrugged. “I didn’t even know he worked at Walmart. So y'all just met when he’d ID your drinks, or what?”

“Pretty much, yeah. He’d do his thing and… well, he just wouldn’t stop talking.”  he hummed a laugh. “But he was nice, so it was fine.”

“And then you bought him dinner,” she stated, prodding for an explanation. 

“He was having a bad day, so I picked up fast food. No big deal.” Josh then shoved a big bite of quinoa into his mouth to brush off the memory, but he couldn’t forget how genuinely happy Tyler was. The way his entire presence brightened with unmistakable alleviation. “I just wanted to try to help,” he admitted quietly. “I felt really bad.”

It took a minute for Josh to notice Debby’s lack of response. As soon as he did, he forced himself to stop grinning. Thankfully, she didn’t immediately jump to any conclusions.

“That was really nice of you. I’m glad.” She said after a pause with altruism in her voice.

They focused on their meal there for a spell; Josh had finally let his guard down until Debby blurted out another question. “Can I ask you something without you freaking out?” Before he had a chance to answer, she added, “I might be overanalyzing, but I’m just wondering.”

Warily, Josh stirred his fork across his bowl but gave a slow nod.

She hesitated for half a second, then carefully asked, “Do you have a thing for Tyler?”

Instantly feeling heat rush to his face, Josh almost choked.

“No- I mean, I don’t- I don’t know,” he sputtered, scrambling for a way around the question. He grabbed a napkin, partly to catch the food in his throat and partly to hide his face. Debby’s words felt less like a question and more like an accusation. 

“Doesn’t he- What about Jenna?” he kept talking to fill the stifling silence after his last response. Debby furrowed her brows, not understanding. “Earlier, you said ‘Jenna’s Tyler,’ and then the whole thing with him going to her family for break?” The phrasing of Jenna’s Tyler still felt sore to him, like a thorn in his side.

“Woah, okay, so, you have the wrong impression.” Debby dropped her fork to talk with her hands. “I don’t know the whole situation but… no. They’re just roommates, they’ve been friends since, like, forever. There's something going on between him and his parents I guess, so Jenna’s family kinda took him in. He does all the holiday stuff with them.” She tried not to laugh, like the very idea of Tyler and Jenna dating was hilarious, “But I can assure you, they’re definitely not an item.”

Josh swallowed but couldn’t relax completely, pulling at his lip ring and the beard hairs on his chin. “Oh, okay… well, still. I don’t- um… look, even if I did- like Tyler…” That possibility alone was enough to freak him out. Despite trying to choose his words carefully, he still stammered uncontrollably. “Would Tyler-… would he even like someone like me?” 

“Are you trying to ask me if he’s into guys?” With a straight face, Debby shut her eyes and reached out to the center of the table. “I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this…” she drew out her pronunciation for dramatic effect. For some stupid reason, Josh obeyed, holding out his hands and sitting on the edge of his seat.

He hated Debby’s deadpan expression so much, praying for this moment to end. God, a bottle of wine alone in his room sounded nice right now. 

“He’s an art student. Come on,” she put it simply, leaving Josh in the dust. 

He pulled his hands back from her hold and scoffed in disbelief, “What does that- that doesn’t mean anything.”

Debby’s reddish brown waves swayed as she slumped forward. “Okay. Well, one time, I was with Jenna and some friends, and we were talking about celebrity crushes. And everybody’s like Oh, Ryan Gosling, oh, Taylor Swift,” she mocked in a cartoonishly silly voice. “And you wanna know what Tyler said? This boy says Billie Joe Armstrong at… the 2007… MTV Awards red carpet or some shit, I don’t even know. Super specific.” Swinging her fork in the air, she told her story matter-of-factly, then neatly popped a brussels sprout into her mouth. 

Josh’s head felt weirdly fuzzy, still trying to comprehend it all. 

“See? You’re fine,” Debby assured, pushing away the other sprouts in her bowl like she didn’t plan on eating more of them.

“Well… who did you say?” Josh fought to change the subject to give his mind more time to catch up.

“I- this isn’t about me.” She paused momentarily, caught off guard, “…Florence Pugh. But that’s not important. See how my answer wasn’t some obscure specific example?” 

Josh shook his head with a laugh. The air in the room felt a little less suffocating, but the heaviness in his chest didn’t fully give way. The question still stirred something miserably uncertain inside him.

The truth was he didn’t know how to answer. Or maybe he just didn’t want to. The thought had barely taken shape in his mind. He knew he liked bumping into Tyler, the way he always cracked a smile and his talent for authentic creation in his art. But having real feelings for him? That was too much to handle right now. A vague, unspoken awareness of something that could be a crush hadn’t fully formed yet. He could barely comprehend it himself, so how was he supposed to explain it to someone else?

“I don’t know. I really haven’t thought about it much.” It was a half lie, considering how much the cashier had infiltrated his life lately. “I still don’t know him very well. I- I don’t know, dude. Nothing’s going on; we’re just friends,” he trod carefully.

Josh wasn’t even sure where a relationship would fit into the tangled blueprint of his life between the relentless demands of school and his up-and-coming business career. His days were already a carefully stacked deck of obligations. The thought of making room for something as uncertain as love felt selfishly indulgent.

There was another beat of way more eye contact than Josh was used to. “Okay, gotcha,” she acknowledged simply, though the way she played with her food said differently. With her fork, she stabbed a carrot with resistant suspicion. “Well, at least you’ll have time to get to know him at the party.”

“The birthday party,” he echoed as a delayed cognizance wormed its way in. “What day was it again?”

“December first.”

Josh glowered, feeling like he had been hit by a freight train. “Oh my god. I have like four finals that week.” 

Sensing his downward spiral, Debby began, “Hey, it’s okay. We’re going to that party. We already told him yes. There will be plenty of other nights to stress about your exams.”

“Not just exams. I have a selling presentation and a booth to run for the business fair, and like three essays-”

“And now is not one of those times!” She cut him off. “Come on, you promised no school talk today. We were doing so good.”

He didn’t think his roommate was right. Devoting his time and energy to his career was exactly what he needed to focus on, but he knew he couldn’t win the argument. “Okay, okay.”

“I was thinking we could hit the mall to find something for Tyler’s birthday.” Josh barely registered Debby standing up until she began collecting their trash. The red-dyed brunette followed suit, standing up to grab their jackets.

“Now? Really?” His voice lacked much protest.

“Why not? It’s one of your rare free afternoons.” She slipped on the jacket Josh handed her.

Racking his brain for an excuse to retreat to his room, he came up empty and sighed in defeat. “What the hell, sure. But I have no idea what to get him. I barely know what he likes.”

“We’ll figure something out.” Guiding with confidence, she wove her way through the restaurant to the exit doors. “We’re not super close, but I know bits and pieces. There’s his art stuff obviously. He likes Nintendo. Oh! Maybe some clothes? No offense, but he seems really easy to shop for… if you’ve noticed.”

“Yeah, I know.” He briefly thought back to the various mismatched outfits worn by the cashier. It was just another quirk about him, another little detail Josh had unknowingly stored away.

Debby reached for the door handle, whirling back to her friend. “And if all else fails… Walmart gift card. I’m sure he’d love that,” she smirked at her own sarcasm.

Josh snorted, finally snapping back to reality when they stepped into the chilling November air. As if his brain was hellbent on always finding something to stress about, a new worry sprouted inside. 

He was going to this party no matter what. And that meant spending an entire evening with Tyler, grappling with the uncertainty of whether he had feelings for him.

Chapter Text

Fall break had slipped away in a blur of silent nods and strained smiles. Josh had spent most of it listening rather than speaking. During dinners, his parents carried the conversation, brimming with enthusiasm over his impending role at Midwest Capital Investments. Thanksgiving was no exception—especially with extended family gathered, they were determined to put on a show.

Josh will be working as a salesman right out of college.

It’s such a competitive field, and he’s lucky to have it lined up already!

He just needs to keep his grades up! Got that 4.0 GPA for a reason, right, Josh?

Those boasts were Josh’s cue to agree and comment about how ready he was for the job. Say nothing more, nothing less. The atmosphere had been thick with obligation. He spent days trying to hold himself together, playing the role required of him.

By the time he returned to campus, the exhaustion had settled deep in his bones. Break didn’t really feel like a break at all; it had been anything but restful. And now, instead of taking a moment to rejuvenate, he returned to face another social event that had been silently creeping up on his calendar.

A banner strung with fairy lights glowed above the TV, spelling out Happy 22nd Birthday Tyler! in vibrant pieces of construction paper. The number of people accumulating the small space made Josh feel like the walls were closing in on him.

The living room pulsed with laughter and the electronic blips of Mario Kart, creating a backdrop that made Josh feel more like a ghost than a guest. He stood near the far end of the room, the tips of his fingers feverishly drumming against a present he still wasn’t quite sure where to put yet. During dinners at home, at least he had a designated seat. Here, he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to stand, let alone where he belonged.

Standing there dumbly, he couldn’t help but think about how carefully he had picked out his outfit. The white short-sleeve button-up felt too stiff now, the fabric straining a little across his chest. The silver heart necklace hanging under the collar now felt like an unnecessary detail. He was foolish for even caring about the way he looked. It wasn’t like anyone would notice. Tyler wouldn’t care, would he?

Josh’s goal was to stick by Debby for as long as possible. Hovering behind her would work like a shield to keep a comfortable distance from the conversation. Unfortunately, his plan was foiled when Debby was quickly swept into the circle, speaking with ease like she had known everyone for years. She signaled for Josh to join her, but he merely waved her off. 

There was only one other recognizable face in the room—and it was the one he’d been anxiously visualizing in his head all week. He wasn’t sure if the flutter in his gut meant something real or just leftover confusion.

“Joshua!” Tyler sprung up from his spot on the worn couch to greet him. “Glad you could make it!” A few curious heads turned in Josh’s direction, unleashing heat and pigment to his face. In another corner, Debby struggled to stifle a laugh at the use of his government name. 

“Hey,” Eyes pried open, Josh began stupidly. “Happy birthday, dude. Thanks for having me.” He loathed how scripted he sounded.

The birthday boy stuck out like a sore thumb with his signature loud outfit. This time, it was a floral V-necked sweater vest layered overtop of a cream snowman-patterned turtleneck. It was awfully goofy, yet somehow just as beguiling. While that thought weaved through his mind, Josh began to recollect the former lunch conversation he had with Debby.

Guilt unfurled, delicate yet pervasive, much like the flowers that adorned Tyler’s vest. He shouldn’t be questioning whether he harbored feelings for Tyler in this space. Josh didn’t truly belong in this room among these people, not while his mind was clouded with inappropriate uncertainty. Like a game of tug o'war, he was caught between the temptation to lean into emotions he barely understood and the discomfort of feeling selfish.

Of course, Tyler didn’t seem to notice, cheerfully proposing that he join the next round of Mario Kart. With zero intention of actually playing, Josh agreed, and Tyler adamantly called dibs on racing as Yoshi before sinking back into the cushion.

A fuzzy half hour passed, and despite giving his best attempts at conversing with other guests, Josh still felt disconnected from the ebb and flow. Polite and refined worked on older adults, but none of that seemed to matter with people his own age. He lingered near conversations, chiming in when there was an opening, but every interaction left him increasingly more self-conscious. Social anxiety wasn’t new, but it still hit him like a jolt every time.

Not wanting to be seen like this anymore, he stepped aside into what he assumed was the kitchen. 

Thankfully, the energy of the main room was muffled from there. Though he felt more at ease being away from the crowd, he wasn’t entirely alone. One girl stood on the other side of the counter, sporting wavy, half-up, half-down space buns. Fatigued after continuously introducing himself all day, Josh was grateful she wasn’t a stranger.

“Oh hey, Josh! Want something to drink?” Jenna turned from the mixing bowl she was prepping. That’s when Josh clocked the candy cane-dappled turtleneck that twinned with the one Tyler was wearing. Of course they were matching. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that it was Tyler’s silly idea, too. To that, he cracked the faintest little smirk. 

“Sure,” he cringed, only seeing an assortment of Capri Suns and Dr. Seuss-themed plastic cups. He was half disappointed and half relieved there was no alcohol. Luckily, Jenna seemed to read his mind, already pouring him a glass of water. “Thanks.”

He loitered by the neighboring counter, observing the assortment of mac & cheese, pizza, and chicken tenders. It looked like a little kid’s birthday party, far from the lustrous cutlery and grand meals Josh had at home. “Did you make all of this?” He inquired, genuinely curious.

“All the meal food, yeah! It’s all a bunch of Ty’s favorites.” She chuckled lightly. 

Josh hummed dully, “I see, yeah.”

Jenna raised an eyebrow, her grin softening. “I get it if this kind of food isn’t really your thing. I think I’ve got some fruit in the fridge if you’d rather have that.”

Hesitating for a moment, Josh found the offer tempting, but something inside him decided to just go with the flow. He was always so rigid. Why couldn’t he just be cool? “No, I’m good. I’ll just… try a couple of things.” He granted her a taut grin before situating himself a plate, garnering the chicken tenders with the least amount of breading.

While taking a small bite, he noticed the bowl Jenna was hand-mixing. “I’m just finishing up the icing. It’s Maple bacon cake with cream cheese mint frosting.”

At that, Josh froze, employing the same practiced smile he’d worn throughout fall break. “Oh!”

“Tyler’s weird choice. Not mine,” Jenna added in a deadpan, then slowed her whisk and carefully inspected the consistency. Appeased, she popped her head around the doorway like a Scooby-Doo character and called out, “Hey, Ty! Come try this!” 

Josh followed her gaze to see the man slumped on the corner of the couch; the Switch controller in his hands had been exchanged for his phone. Judging by the intense furrow of his brows, it was impossible to guess if he was enraged or just concentrated. Sauntering over, he was so distracted by the device that Josh thought he might walk right into the doorframe. Finally, he shoved it into his back pocket and drew his attention to his roommate. “Hm?”

Jenna handed a spoon to both men in the kitchen, leading Tyler to taste the frosting first with a satisfied expression, “Mmm, that’s good.” Following suit, Josh took a tentative taste, then licked his lips in surprise. “I think Debby mentioned you’re a culinary arts major, right?”

Her bright blue eyes sparkled crystal with pride. "Yep, that’s me."

Feeling a smidge more comfortable, Josh spoke simply and assertively. "Good."

The two of them shared a brief chuckle before Jenna fetched the lukewarm cake from the stovetop. While she began decorating, Josh was left to face Tyler one-on-one. The latter’s phone buzzed obnoxiously from his back pocket, causing an uneasy shift in his expression. He managed to tune it out. “Sorry we haven’t really talked yet. You guys came while I was busy demolishing the guys in Mario Kart.” 

Just after he spoke, one of the other party-goers entered the kitchen with an empty plate. “You got fourth place,” he said matter-of-factly, swiping a slice of pizza.

“It’s my birthday, Micheal. Don’t correct me,” snapped Tyler, crossing his arms with mock indignation. Michael threw back his head with a laugh as he retreated back to the couch.

Something about Tyler’s humor, prevailing smirk, and his ability to be so casual with everyone made Josh feel oddly enthralled. It sent his stomach into a weird flip that he refused to acknowledge. 

Another chime went off, seizing Josh’s attention. Just in case, he pulled out his phone to make sure it wasn’t his own. Sure enough, he didn’t have any notifications, so it must have been Tyler’s.

“Oh my gosh. Shut up, stupid thing!” Tyler yanked out his phone just to bark at it. In a mercurial change of temper, he pointed to Josh’s lock screen, now lit up with a candid shot of his golden retriever on a jog. “Aw, Jim! He’s so cute.”

“Yeah, he’s–” Wait Jim? Josh glanced back up at the faux-blonde, processing what he had said. “Wait, how’d you know his name?”

“I saw some pictures on your Instagram.” He leaned onto the counter to grab a few doritos, seemingly unfazed. “Do you usually go for runs with him around campus?”

Was Tyler stalking his Instagram, too? Not that Josh was really stalking Tyler’s Instagram. He just checked it now and then because he thought his art was cool… right? Debby’s interrogation singed the back of his brain.

“I have my routes, but sometimes I kinda just go wherever my feet take me.” Josh started slowly, trying to push aside the memories of runs when he’d been trying to escape it all. Tyler’s nonchalance eased him up a bit, so he continued. “I enjoy it, though. It’s freeing.”

“I gave up that athletic life a long time ago,” Tyler said bitterly for some undisclosed reason. “If I tried running for fun, I think my feet would stage a full-on rebellion and detach from my body.” He rolled his eyes, spurring a grin from Josh.

See? Josh could do this! He didn’t need to worry about potential feelings for Tyler. He could just focus on enjoying his company, right?

His easygoing demeanor slowly chipped away at Josh’s resistance, but Tyler’s phone started pinging again, notification after notification. The corners of Tyler’s mouth twitched with annoyance the more it went on, but he never reached for the device.

It was then that Josh caught a glimpse of Jenna across the room. Her gaze was fixed on Tyler with a faint crease of worry between her brows. He wondered for a moment if everything was okay. Before he could dwell on it much, a new voice hollered from the group, “TJ—no rush, dude, but we’re ready whenever you are.”

At Tyler’s indecisive glance, Josh gave an impromptu nudge. “You go on ahead, don’t miss your turn.”

“You better join us soon then!” The birthday boy encouraged, pushing himself off the counter to head towards the living room. 

Josh watched him leave, but once Tyler was lost in the crowd, something in the air shifted. The hum of conversation felt thicker. Josh's throat tightened as he looked around the room, acutely aware of how many people there were again.

With a sigh, he tossed his paper plate away, grabbed his winter coat off the rack, and shuffled out of the apartment. A quick breather wouldn’t hurt. At least he had the choice to step out for a minute, unlike dinners at home. The cold was sharp in a way that cleared his head. Rounding the corner of the building, he leaned back against the wall to recuperate.

What was he even doing at this party? With final exams this week, he couldn’t afford distractions like this. As much as school stressed him, he still couldn’t look forward to classes being over either because that meant going home for Winter break. He could already picture his mom’s excited smile and his dad’s proud nod—both so certain he was on the right track. And maybe he was, but he just couldn’t trust it yet. On campus, it was easier to stay busy. Meanwhile, at home, his parents’ hope stared him in the face. Josh wondered how long it would take them to see how ungrateful he was for doubting his future.

He sank into poor posture against the grainy brick. Suddenly, his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the apartment door closing with a thud, followed by what Josh recognized as Tyler’s voice. 

“Hang on… okay, now go ahead.” There was a response of muffled words that followed his hushed permission, tinged with that faint electronic buzz. Josh realized he must have stepped outside to take a phone call.

“They always find these roundabout ways to reach me like this. I swear they act like they’re being subtle, but they- they know what they’re doing.” Tyler’s voice cracked a little, and Josh felt a pang of something— Remorse? Sympathy? He shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but his feet felt glued in place.

“They’re using you to get through to me, and that’s just- it pisses me off so bad. I never wanted it to be like this. It’s not fair to you guys.”

The conversation was obscured, but Josh could make out a few bits and pieces—Tyler’s side, at least. “I know, I know…” A brief pause, and then, “Yeah, I’m sure they miss me, but please understand that I can’t keep doing this.”

Josh could hear a sharp inhale from Tyler. It was clear he was being cut off by the person on the other end. Josh didn’t want to listen anymore. This felt too personal, but it was hard to ignore the way Tyler’s voice wavered. It made him feel guilty for not doing anything to help, yet he remained pathetically frozen.

Then, at the echo of footsteps, Josh straightened his back against the brick wall. Before he could react any further, Tyler rounded the corner.

“I don’t know, man. I don’t even know how we could fix it at this point. Every time I try to talk to them, it’s like they just hear—” They both went wide-eyed before awkwardly averting their attention in separate directions. Tyler’s wrist slowly went limp, bringing the phone away from his ear, “—what they… wanna hear.” 

While pretending to enjoy the view of his shoes, Josh silently cursed himself.

“Yeah, uh- Hey, listen- Maddy. Can we- Let’s just drop it tonight, okay? I just wanna try to enjoy the rest of the party. Let’s talk about it more later…” Tyler muttered into the receiver, finding a quick excuse. “Yeah, thanks. Love you… bye.” And just like that, he ended the call, stuffing his phone into his jacket.

Josh immediately raised his hands to prove his innocence. The last thing he wanted was for Tyler to think he was creeping on him. “I swear I wasn’t trying to listen in—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Tyler sighed, trying to collect himself. His fingers tapped against his jacket, which looked far too thin for this weather. 

“Do you need to talk about it?” Josh hoped his question came off more sincere than prying. 

“It’s just—” He stopped mid-sentence, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say more. Then the words began tumbling out.

“My parents kind of put me on the spot by making a group chat with our whole family, and my sister was just calling me about it.” Tyler let out an exasperated laugh that held no humor. “They want me home for winter break, but I know if I go, it’s not gonna go well.”

Josh listened closely, unsure if he should say something or let Tyler get it out.

“Every time I try to talk to them, give them a chance, it’s like—it doesn’t even matter. They don’t support me.” His voice tightened slightly at the end, but he kept it together, crossing his arms to hold himself in place.

A breeze intensified that uncomfortable squeeze in Josh’s chest. “I’m sorry.” His words felt small in comparison to everything Tyler carried. He didn’t know if there was anything he could say to help.

“It sucks because all my siblings still live there… I miss them, but I can’t see them without having to go through my parents first.” Tyler ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve tried to just get over it and keep the peace, but it’s like… it- it never works out. Something always goes wrong.”

Josh searched for something—anything—to say. But before he could, Tyler shot him an apologetic look.

It was strange thinking about how different Tyler had been earlier behind that apartment door. He had managed to put on that whole facade when all of this was happening in the background. It made Josh wonder how often he did that, how many times he’d masked things so well that no one noticed.

“God, I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask if you wanted to hear all of that.” Tyler flashed a self-deprecating smirk and rerouted the topic. “What were you doing out here anyway?”

Josh shifted on his feet at the sudden spotlight. “I’m not doing anything really. I get kinda freaked out in big groups. Nothing against your friends. I’m weird, I guess. I don’t know.”

Through the night, a streetlight sparked a shimmer in Tyler’s doe-like eyes. “I get that.” His quietness felt natural, like he understood what Josh was saying. So, Josh kept going. “It’s just… I don’t know, it’s been harder since I moved here. I don’t really know anyone except Debby, so it’s like, I was gonna stick with her, you know? But she’s so social, and I don’t want to hold her back.”

Tyler’s eyebrows tilted upward. “Are you new to the area?”

“Kind of. I’m from the other side of Columbus and did community college there for my first two years. I transferred here this semester.” Josh frowned. “Debby and I just moved into an apartment. Yet she somehow already knows everyone.”

Tyler raised his chin at the realization. “Oh, that’s freaky! I kinda did the same thing, but my first two years of college were online.” A little smile broke through. “Having these real university assignments is eating me alive.”

“Tell me about it. Now that I officially declared double business majors, there’s a million things to do.” Unconsciously, Josh marched to the edge of the sidewalk. “It’s like, if I don’t get perfect grades on top of my extra career prep, I don’t meet their standards. I don’t know what they’ll think of me. My parents, I mean.” 

While the thoughts began to spiral, he could feel a chilling sweat dampening his neck. “They’ve spent all this time pushing me to be the best, and if I screw up—” He stopped himself mid-sentence, his heart pounding behind his ribs. 

“God, I could use a drink right now.” As soon as he mumbled the confession, he bit his tongue. Of all people, he’d said it to the cashier who rang up his wine. The last thing he wanted was for Tyler to see just how depressing it was. He shakily lifted his head, surprised to find himself fully sat on the curb. Tyler was crouched beside him with worried lines across his forehead.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make this all about me, especially on your birthday.” Josh’s fingers traced along his leg in an absentminded search for consolation. 

Opposite to Josh’s low register, Tyler spoke in an upbeat tone. “No, it’s fine. It’s good to talk about this stuff. I ranted first, so it’s only fair you get a turn.” He raked a hand through his frosted tips. “Plus, I’d rather be alone with you than in there pretending everything’s fine.” Josh didn’t reply, still trying to make sense of it all.

“I get that parents’ expectations stuff.” Tyler’s shrug wasn’t casual. It was the kind of shrug that was trying to lighten the weight of something too heavy to carry. “It just gets to a point where I have to cut ties, but they won’t let me. They keep calling—especially around birthdays, holidays…”

Remembering how stressful his own fall break was, anxiety flared inside of Josh. And now, winter break was just a few weeks away. He hadn’t thought about what that would mean for Tyler, but now he was seeing it firsthand.

“Winter break is gonna be hell.” Tyler seemingly read his mind.

“Yeah,” Josh murmured, despondent.

They sat in unmoving silence. Normally, the pressure to fill the stillness would have unsettled Josh, but this time, it felt different. It was as if they were both just existing in the moment. They shared an understanding, each carrying their own version of a similar burden.

“I should probably head in before they start wondering where I am.” Tyler sounded somehow content with the situation. “You coming?”

The way Tyler tilted his head so sweetly at him, Josh wanted to say yes, but the strain in his throat held him back. “You go ahead. I’m gonna take a few more minutes.”

Tyler hesitated but stood up. “Alright. Take your time. Whenever you come back in, though, you’re welcome to stick by me if that helps.” 

“Thanks.” His stare aimed straight ahead, not meeting Tyler’s face but hearing the kindness of his words. How could Tyler sound okay after talking about something so personal?

“You okay?” Josh wielded an aloof tone that he wished sounded warmer.

“I… don’t know, I will be.” Tyler’s voice was layered in a way that Josh couldn’t decipher. He felt Tyler’s eyes on the back of his head for a beat before the sound of the door swinging shut.

Picking up a small rock and tossing it lightly between his hands, Josh was alone once again. He felt a rawness on the surface of his skin beneath the jacket covering him. The vulnerability of both Tyler’s and his own words shook him more than the chill of winter could ever manage. 

He surprised himself by speaking so openly. It was almost disturbing being so exposed. And the fact that it was Tyler, of all people, also made him feel achy. It felt like a mistake, yet strangely relieving. It was as if he was doing what he wanted, but wasn’t what he was supposed to. Despite feeling almost painful, there was a pull toward Tyler that stirred more than just empathy.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but when he heard the apartment door creak open again, Josh felt a crick in his neck from sitting hunched over for too long. Debby stood in the doorway, her auburn hair silhouetted by the glow of the indoor light.

“I was looking for you, and Tyler said you were out here. You alright?” Her voice felt like a lighthouse signaling him back to shore.

Seeing his breath fog into the air, Josh remembered how cold it was outside. “I’m fine, just needed to get out for a second… from the people.” The reply was honest, just maybe not to the full extent.

Debby nodded, knowingly. “Well, no rush, but they’re doing cake now and then presents in a bit,” she spoke gently, leaving space for him to choose when he felt ready to rejoin.

His fingers grazed over the rock he forgot he was holding. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face a crowd again, but he knew he didn’t want to be out here by himself any longer. “Alright.” He rose to his feet, feeling a stiffness in his joints. 

Debby stepped closer, her expression charitable. Without saying a word, she gently brushed a lock of his hair behind his ear.

She waited patiently by the door, holding it open for Josh to shuffle in. He tossed the rock behind him, hearing the sharp metallic thud of it hitting the pavement, followed by silence. It landed on the pavement, blending onto the road once again, like nothing ever happened. 

The heat inside welcomed Josh into the scene of people singing around the kitchen for cake. Instead of joining the fray, Debby stayed close to her roommate towards the back. His gaze flitted across the room, landing on Tyler, who was already looking straight at him. 

The candles on the cake still flickered, untouched. It struck Josh then that Tyler had been waiting for him. Someone had probably prompted him to make a wish, but he held off. And now, as their eyes locked, Tyler glowed in a sort of relief, like Josh’s presence was the final piece he’d been holding out for. Then he leaned forward and blew out the candles.

It was sweet. Josh felt a thoughtfulness melt into him, symphanied by an orchestra of guilt. He hadn’t meant to hold Tyler back from his party—selfishly, though, he found comfort in that Tyler had been thinking about him.

There he was again, turning to talk with his friends and smiling like everything was okay, but Josh saw it now. Something was a little off. A dimness lingered in Tyler’s stare, and the assuredness in his stance had subtly wilted. There was an imperceptible disconnect, like he was trying to be present but wasn’t fully there.

Josh didn’t think anyone noticed a difference until he spotted Jenna. Her eyes tracked Tyler’s movements with observant concern. She didn’t say anything, but her gaze searched for cracks in the act.

Looking away, he pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He wasn’t sure what else he could do, but part of him wished he could help in some way. Instead, he just shadowed Debby for the night to shake off the feeling.

✲

Josh wasn’t sure if the party had gone on forever or if it just felt that way because he was running on fumes by the time he finally returned home. Moonlight slipped through the blinds in his bedroom, casting a pale glow on the still-unpacked suitcase from Thanksgiving break. Procrastinating on this unfinished business, all he wanted was to dive straight into bed and disappear under the covers.

With a groan, he peeled off his shirt and collapsed into the sheets, face-first. He rolled onto his back, arms sprawled wide like he’d just survived something. Maybe he had. From the party to the people to the confusing tangle of feelings, it was overwhelming.

Glancing up from his pillow, he noticed the streetlight outside his window reflecting onto his phone, summoning him like a beacon. It reminded him of Tyler’s phone, buzzing throughout the night in an attempt to swallow him whole. 

Tyler deserved a pleasant notification, not one full of crushing pressure from his family. Josh tiredly grabbed the device and opened Instagram, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He stared at the message, reread it five times, then hit send before he could second-guess himself into oblivion.

Hey. I didn’t get to say it before I left, but thanks for having me and listening. Good luck with your school stuff. I hope your night gets better.

He could still picture it clearly: the mellow glow of birthday candles highlighting Tyler‘s features. The way the warm orange cast bounced off his low-sloped nose and pensive eyes. Waiting for him. Josh wanted him to know he thought about Tyler when he wasn’t around, too. That he would wait for him, too. Luckily, before Josh could overthink it too much, the reply came quicker than expected. 

aw thank you! this might sound silly but i feel a lot better after our little talk, it felt good talking to someone who seems like they understand it all. i hope you can say the same, too. i’m grateful you were here tonight, thank you for coming :) 

His chest swelled with fervor so suddenly that it startled him. He bit down a smile, blaming the giddy on exhaustion. He wondered if Tyler was okay now—if he was still pretending for the sake of outside perception, or if he’d found even a moment of peace within his family conflict for the night. The thought alone made Josh want to stay in the bubble of connection they’d shared, where things felt honest. He typed out one last message, wishing dry texting could do justice to his racing heart.

Not silly at all. I actually feel the same way and I’m glad I came.

Happy Birthday

Trying not to obsess over his words, he dropped his phone back into the charger, and let his head sink into the pillow. Finals were looming, unread chapters preyed like vultures on his desk, but for now, he let himself float. Just for tonight, before his life would fall back into the machine of endless obligations, Josh let himself think about him in a way he usually tried not to. 

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was everything. The world outside felt miles away. But he knew when the sun would rise, all of this warmth would dissolve beneath the pressure of responsibilities waiting for him.

Chapter Text

For a spell, the weight of the semester lifted off Josh’s shoulders. The constant pressure of exams and endless study sessions that had gnawed at him for months was finally over and done with. He was free, at least until classes started up again in January. For now, it was nice knowing he wouldn’t have to think about coursework until after winter break.

No sooner than a moment passed when Josh efficiently shifted into task mode. He had an errand to run, something small but necessary before heading home for the holidays. It was still relatively early in the afternoon, which meant the sooner he got back to the apartment, the more time he’d have to pack.

It had practically become second nature to peep over at the self-checkout area as he embarked on his shopping trips, and this time was no exception. From the discrepancy of the outfit to the various minimalistic tattoos wrapping around his arms, all the way up to the signature vibrant beanie… it was all so undoubtedly Tyler.

Their paths hadn’t crossed since the party, a whole two and a half weeks ago. The sheer volume of cramming for finals left little room for anything else. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to reach out, but between late nights and early mornings, the world outside of textbooks had faded into the background. Still, he couldn’t help but think back to their heart-to-heart. Unease from the other night hadn’t quite subsided, prompting Josh to check up on him.

The opportunity arrived like an early Christmas gift. Devoid of the usual bustling crowd of customers streaming in and out of lines, the self-checkout area was irregularly vacant for this time of year. Sporting a button-up with vertical cotton-candy-colored stripes, Tyler was unconditionally absorbed in whatever he was working on. Before he could dissect it further, Josh stepped behind him, leaning in just close enough to say, “Hey.”

Tyler jumped so hard that he nearly knocked over the handheld scanner from the register he propped up against. Panic boomed in his expression, then he immediately gave way to relief. “Shi-! Oh shoot,” Tyler huffed, pressing a hand to his chest. “I thought you were my boss.”

His tendency to self-censor didn’t go unnoticed. He found it funny how determined Tyler was to keep it PG. Knuckles white, he clutched the cover like he was caught committing a federal crime. “Uh oh,” Josh huffed a quiet laugh. “Busted.”

Groaning, the artist gaily rolled his eyes. “It’s been so slow, I’ve been so bored.”

In Tyler’s hands was the very sketchbook Josh had picked out for his birthday. Watching Tyler flip it open to hide whatever he’d been working on, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of happiness. It was small, but it meant something; Tyler was using it. That sketchbook wasn’t just sitting in the back of his drawer. It had become part of his process, part of his creative world. There was something so right about that.

Josh smirked at how awkwardly Tyler stood, all to shield the art behind his back. He slanted to the side at such a dramatic angle he might topple, sprawled out like a baby deer who hadn’t learned to walk yet. “What were you working on?” Josh questioned, spiking more twitchiness from the other man.

“Just stupid doodles.” He shrugged it off like it didn’t matter.

Josh sucked on his cheek, knowing that feeling of hiding your work away from curious eyes. “I promise I’m not one of those can you draw me next people. Trust me, I know.” Grinning nervously, Tyler flipped in search of something less incriminating to show, purposefully like he had an ulterior motive.

A good number of pages had already been filled out, surprisingly. The completion was impressive considering he had received it a short time ago. The black coat was already littered with stickers of cartoon characters. “I’m not super used to anyone caring about seeing this stuff. It’s just silly art,” Tyler maundered. 

On a mission of devotion and critique, the way his chocolate eyes darted past his creations was entertaining. It was almost cute. Josh found it hard to swallow at the realization, suddenly overwhelmed. More than convinced that Tyler’s art was worth showing off, Josh peeked over and recognized a sketch on one of the open pages. “Is that the dragon from your mural?”

Tyler’s hands froze, hovering mid-turn. “Yeah, actually. This is Trash!” 

“Right…” Raising a brow, Josh recalled the name scrawled beside the painting. “Gotta say, for someone named Trash, he looks pretty badass.” 

“Don’t boost his ego, he’s just a dead glorified lizard.” Tyler shot him a pointed look, as if he expected the other to understand. Josh didn’t, feeling at a loss for words. He debated inquiring further, but something else on the page caught his eye before he could.

Opposite to the drawing was a familiar arch of a nose, the messy dark curls with red tips in sketchy, unconfident strokes. Before the image could fully register, Tyler swiped past the page with a flick of his wrist, a little too quickly. Josh blinked, almost sure of what he saw, but chalked it up as a fleeting trick of his imagination.

On the new spread, two figures stood sketched in sharp detail—one cloaked in army green, his face a shrouded mystery beneath a hood and a yellow bandana; the other wore a black mask with red stripes running down the center and jagged edges crowning the top.

Josh cocked his head, intrigued. “And who are these guys?”

“Oh, nothing,” he waved off lackadaisically, though the upward twitch of his lips betrayed his pride. “Just a couple OCs for this story I’ve been noodling around with.” His fingers flapped the corner of the page like the story itself might flutter to life.

“That’s really cool,” Josh affirmed, a flare of nostalgia catching him off guard. OCs—he hadn’t heard that term in what felt like forever, long before the hassle of business school.

Tyler’s expression grew sheepish before snapping the sketchbook shut and slipping it into his back pocket. The motion was swift, but not dismissive—more like a practiced reflex to tuck something precious away. Josh let it pass without comment, pivoting smoothly. “So, anyway… What are you doing here so early? I thought you usually worked later?”

“Yeah, I actually get off at three. I requested an early shift so I’d have time tonight to pack for winter break.” Now only holding his pen, Tyler clicked it on and off while he talked.

“Speaking of which,” Josh interjected, his voice softening slightly, “How have you been? You know, with another break coming up... I just wanted to ask.” There was solace in his inflection, scarcely perceptible but intentional nonetheless.

Though the cashier’s shoulders lifted in an apathetic shrug, his conduct held a shadow of something Josh couldn’t pin down. “Eh, y’know, I’m good.” He exhaled, his tone drifting toward nonchalance. “Tomorrow, I’m heading out with Jenna, staying at her family’s place for Christmas and New Year's stuff. They’re sweet people. It’ll be fun.” He brushed off the topic with ease, but his carefully crafted levity didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Josh studied him for a moment, the veneer of indifference not entirely convincing. The blonde’s attempt at denial was too practiced, too forced. “You sure you’re okay?” Not entirely buying the act, his words slipped out before he could stop them.

Tyler sensed the unspoken question hanging in the air. “You don’t have to worry about me, Joshua. I’m fine!” He met the other man’s eyes for a split second before looking away, his voice strikingly confident. “Thanks for caring n’ all, but I’ll be okay.”

The sincerity in his words left Josh unsure of how to respond. Straightening his back, Tyler deftly redirected the conversation. “So, what brings you in? Getting something last minute before heading home for vacation?”

“Yeah, just needed a couple things. You know, the usual stuff.” His lack of enthusiasm sounded half-hearted, and Tyler noticed.

Feeling a twinge of empathy stir inside him, he considered asking Tyler to hang out before they both went their separate ways. The idea struck him impulsively, but the lure curled around him like a whispered dare. He knew he should focus on packing and taking care of his endless chores before leaving. Though it would be nice to hang with Tyler before the holiday frenzy took over.

“You’re probably getting off soon, right?” Josh began experimentally. “I was thinking... maybe we could hang out for a bit? No plan, just, you know, do whatever. I’ve got time.” Tyler’s face fell, and Josh immediately regretted asking. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Ah, I wish I could, man,” Tyler cringed with genuine regret, almost pouting his bottom lip. “I’ve gotta pick up Jenna, then we’re going home to pack. I’m sorry.”

Instantly feeling foolish, Josh reassured quickly, trying to mask the disappointment. “No, it’s cool, I get it. Just thought I’d ask. I’ve gotta pack, too, actually. Haven’t even started.” He chuckled, a little self-deprecating. “I’m so behind on that.”

“Yeah, me too,” Tyler agreed with a breathy laugh, his eyes lighting up for just a moment. Then, he looked at Josh, and a glimmer of something warmer raided his features. “But we should definitely figure something out when we get back. That could be nice.”

That crooked smile of his was enough to lift Josh’s spirits, convincing him that Tyler was looking forward to it. “Yeah,” Josh said, his voice lighter. “That sounds good. We’ll make it happen.”

Tyler’s smile hovered as if reluctant to leave. “Alright, I won’t hold you up anymore. Go grab your stuff. I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” Josh echoed, the word hanging in the air as they each turned toward their respective paths.

✲

Brown boots pressed against the icy pavement as Debby made her way across campus toward the parking lot. The sharp winter wind whipped through the bare trees, sending a flurry of cold air around her. She kept her gaze fixed ahead, just past the dining hall, where the outline of her car awaited. Tightening her scarf and gripping her backpack straps, she moved with vigor, romanticizing the idea of the heat of her car.

As she moved past the culinary building, a flood of students all exited together, probably just being led out of class. Debby hoped the parking lot wouldn’t be too busy. She aimed to walk past the group until she spotted a familiar figure sporting a cream puffer with pink lining and stark white sneakers. The blonde grinned back at her as they locked eyes.

“Leaving your food seduction or whatever-it-is class?” Debby approached, now walking alongside her friend.

“It’s my food safety and sanitation class,” Jenna chuckled with a shocked yet amused expression. “But yes, ma’am. Are we both finally on Christmas break?”

“Hell yeah, almost fell asleep during my last exam, but I made it. Go us!” Debby cheered, raising a fist in the air. 

Jenna gently gave a little Woo back before continuing her train of thought. “Does that mean you’re headed home? We can give you a ride, Tyler is about to pick me up here soon.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I drove here, so I can’t leave the car, but thanks.” Her hand brushed against the carabiner holding her car key. “But… I can walk with you for a bit,” she decided, suddenly not caring about staying in the cold longer.

“Sure,” Jenna perked up at the suggestion, but furrowed her brow. “Aren’t you going to your brother’s tonight?”

“Not till later,” she admitted with a laugh. “Girl, I haven’t even finished packing. But it’s okay, I’ve still got time.”

“Gotcha. Well, that’s good ‘cause I honestly have no idea if Tyler’s gonna be here already.” Jenna slowed her stride to rip off her pink glove and use her phone. “I texted him that I got out of class early, but he hasn’t even read it.” Her manicured fingers danced across the screen to send another message. Vibrant blue eyes glanced back at Debby. “It’s fine. We said we were meeting at the benches by the library, so we could just wait inside for a bit. It’s actually freezing.”

“Ah, tell me about it,” Debby agreed, linking arms with the blonde and picking up speed. The two continued their walk with quick feet, huddled for warmth. 

Passing the dining hall, they neared the library. The old building, framed by bare branches and the last remnants of autumn leaves, was practically abandoned by students rushing home.

“Oh- well, never mind, there he is!” Jenna recognized her roommate as the benches came into view, taking the lead. Debby spotted the back of Tyler’s head by his bright beanie, hunched over, and focused. He quickly looked up with wide eyes and shoved something aside on his lap. Still trying to catch up, Debby realized it had been a decorated sketchbook he shut, clutching it frantically. She didn’t think much of it, though. The guy always seemed a bit protective of his art.

“What the heck, Ty? How long have you been here?” Jenna pulled out her phone again, checking the time.

“I don’t know. Like, an hour?” Tyler spoke in monotone. “You’re early.”

“My class ended early,” she explained, shaking the phone. “I texted you, like, twice.” 

“Oh. I didn’t even see it.” He picked up his phone to check the message. Tyler's tone was a bit sharper than usual, his answers short and clipped. Jenna seemed to catch on as she consciously looked at Debby, then back at him. 

"Everything okay?" she asked, not overly concerned but definitely a bit thrown off.

Tyler glanced up at her, his expression a little guarded, "Mmhm." He muttered like it was all fine, but his body language said otherwise. Debby didn’t know him well, but what she did know about his usually easygoing nature suddenly went a little flat.

“You sure?” Jenna pressed, her tone light but probing.

Tyler sighed, pressing his lips into a thin line, letting out a breath. “Joshua- Josh asked to hang out. And I had to tell him no 'cause I had to be here.” His voice carried a mild annoyance, but mostly, there was this faint crestfallen quality. It’s not that he was angry at Jenna, but more so disappointed in the situation.

Debby swiveled her neck at the mention of her roommate. Hearing Josh ask to hang out was unexpected. Lately, he had been… withdrawn, to say the least. He was more likely to avoid plans than initiate them. The change surprised her, but a sense of pride came with it, aware that he was making the effort. She hoped Josh wouldn’t take the rejection as a reason to pull back again, but what intrigued her even more was seeing Tyler so upset by it. 

Jenna seemed to understand what was going on already, though. A playful grin tugged at her lips, and she teased, “Ohhh,” before adding with mock defensiveness, “My bad.”

Tyler sent back a deadpan while dropping his phone onto his sketchbook. Debby’s eyes followed the movement, seeing the screen’s display. She recognized the screenshot from an old post on Josh’s Instagram, smiling with undyed hair on a hiking trip. Noticing her stare, Tyler frowned frustratedly, like a kid with their hand in a cookie jar. Debby didn’t have much time to think it over before Jenna spoke up next.

"You're drawing him, aren't you?" she chimed, her tone bright with amusement.

Back straightening like an arrow, Debby’s interest was immediately piqued. “Oh, what?”

Tyler let out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as he yanked his orange beanie down, not to hide, just to gather his thoughts. “Yeah, yeah,” he admitted, his tone shifting from playful to matter-of-fact. Pushing himself up from the bench, he gathered his pencils and slid them into his tote bag with an easy rhythm. “He’s got good features,” he smirked as if daring anyone to question him.

“Wait- can we see? You can’t just say that and put it away.” Jenna’s hand met Tyler’s before he managed to tuck the sketchbook away. 

He hesitated for a second as if considering her request. Then, switching it up, his thinking face quickly morphed into a tight, polite smile. “Mmm, no.” 

The blondes’ stare-down only lasted a few beats before they both broke out in laughter. “Come ooon! I only ever see you drawing your little character guys, never someone I know. I wanna see if it looks like him!” She explained in a more sweet than accusatory manner, sugared with care and interest. Busy watching the scene unfold, Debby jolted when Jenna grabbed her hand and dragged her onto the library bench. 

“It doesn’t,” He whined, lolling his head to the side. He plopped onto the bench and begrudgingly pulled out his sketchbook. 

“I bet it looks fine, you’re your own worst critic.” Jenna delicately crossed her legs as Debby mirrored her pose, signaling to Tyler that they weren’t letting up. “And Debby sees Josh every day, she can be the judge.”

Tyler tentatively turned to his most recent page. Before he handed it over, he pressed it against himself protectively. His voice lowered with urgency, like he was trying to hold back a flood. “Look, before I start talking about this, can you please not tell Joshua about the drawing?” His words were rushed, yet sure of himself. “I just don’t want him to know, not yet. Okay?”

“Of course,” Jenna carried certainty in her agreement, as if she knew exactly why Tyler was being so cautious. It left Debby feeling disconnected from whatever unspoken understanding had passed between them.

“Sure,” she replied plainly, though inside she was sorting through everything. She didn’t feel like she was betraying Josh, not exactly. If Tyler didn’t want Josh to be aware of the drawing, she could respect that. It was his personal sketchbook after all. What was the meaning of all this anyway?

Tyler practically threw the book at them. Sprawled over their laps, the duo dug their faces into the pages. Identifying Josh’s broad nose and smaller eyes right away, Debby connected the likeness. She didn’t know much about drawing, but the sketch lines screamed of composure and understanding of the medium. Yet the details in the face were more intricate and gentle, like he spent time trying to illustrate his features accurately. 

“Yeah, dude, I don’t know what you’re worried about. That’s Josh,” she affirmed straightforwardly, closing the book like her opinion was set in stone.

“For sure, Ty. It’s great!” Jenna chirped, grabbing the book and dropping it back into Tyler’s possession.

Reopening the page, he scoffed and shook his head. “No, seriously, I was thinking of fixing the nose. It’s not quite right—I think I made it too soft. His nose bridge has this, like, really specific angle in the light, y’know?” He rambled frustratedly.

Debby leaned forward to look past Jenna and up at Tyler. “It has so much detail already. Have you just been working on it since you got here? ”

“Well, I kinda started it back at work,” Tyler admitted. “There’s more I wanna do with it. I was gonna go back and refine the jawline ‘cause sometimes it’s sharper depending on how he’s holding his face? And the eyes—gosh, the eyes. I can’t tell if I made them too small or too big. And the outer corners crease in such a specific way, which makes it tricky.”

The brunette stared at him as he kept going. She didn’t even know what half of this meant. Jawline sharpness? Light angles? It was just Josh’s face. “Couldn’t make him handsome enough,” she joked, obviously kidding.

She expected Tyler to shoot back a defensive quip. Instead, he scrunched his face at his work. “Seriously, I feel like I’m not doing him justice at all,” he mumbled. “He’s so hot… and I can’t get it right.”

At the reveal, Debby whipped around to face her friend, who, during all of this, smiled knowingly. “Okay, so we’re doing this,” Jenna shrugged. If anything, she seemed more astonished that Tyler was voicing it aloud, rather than being shocked by the information itself.

“Yes, I mean, not that you guys care or anything. Oh my gosh, just tell me to shut up,” he added quickly, suddenly aware of how much he was talking. Yet he kept going. “It’s annoying because, yeah, he’s got a good face—like, ridiculously good. But it’s not just that. He’s got this… presence. He’s gentle with his words, yet kind of awkward in this way that makes you actually want to hear what he has to say.”

Debby wasn’t an artist, so she didn’t understand the full extent of it, but it was clear that Tyler saw things differently. He cared so much about capturing something intangible; studying him, picking apart details she’d never seen. It wasn’t just about the drawing—it was about Josh.

Before she could say anything, Jenna beat her to it, announcing what they were all thinking. “So, basically, you think Josh is attractive.”

Tyler didn’t even flinch. “Obviously.” He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “That’s the problem. I don’t just want to get his face right. I want to get him right, and I can’t figure out how.”

Dumbfounded, Debby looked down at the composition, then back up at Tyler. “I mean… I just see Josh as Josh. I think you captured him well.”

“I can’t get it right.” He repeated, stretching out his arms before crossing them over his chest. “And it’s pissing me off.”

“Come on, Ty. You can sulk over it more when we get back home. How are you not freezing, only wearing a hoodie?” Jenna stood up, shivering, while gesturing to the parking lot.

Tyler grumbled in agitation, but followed anyway. Debby stood up and strolled behind them, making her way to her own car. 

As they walked, Debby chewed on the realization settling in her brain. Well. This is something.

To her, Josh was just Josh—her best friend, someone she could read without effort. She thought she knew him better than anyone, but Tyler searched for something deeper, like a puzzle he wasn’t just trying to solve but to understand.

Last they spoke, Josh said he was unsure about his feelings toward Tyler. He wasn’t oblivious, just… stuck, like he couldn’t figure out what he wanted. Maybe he was too afraid to admit it.

But now she had new insight: Tyler standing here, practically spelling it out for them. He liked Josh a lot. Not only that, but he wanted to get to know him even better.

Oh, god, how was she supposed to keep all of this in?

✲

Her gold bracelet-covered wrist opened the apartment door with a click. Immediately, she was blasted with “Designer” by Balu Brigada playing down the hall, signaling her roommate was home. She dropped her backpack by the door, happy she wouldn’t need its school contents for a while. Stretching her arms over her head as she took it in, the couch was still a mess from their last movie night. The faint smell of Josh’s god-awful protein powder lingered in the air. Despite honestly enjoying her theatre and film classes, she was relieved for the break. 

The sight of Josh’s suitcase sprawled open in the middle of the hallway snapped her out of it. Half-zipped, overflowing with gym clothes and textbooks because, of course, that was his idea of vacation packing. He was kneeling beside it, stuffing a wrestling t-shirt inside, when he glanced up. 

“Hey,” he greeted her with a little more energy in his tone than she’d heard from him lately. “I ran into Tyler at Walmart today and saw he was using the sketchbook we got him for his birthday—”

“Nope!” Debby cut in, her voice too sharp.

“Huh?” Josh blinked, and as he did, Debby remembered the way Tyler described how his eyes creased at the edges. Nope, nope, nope. She could not handle this conversation right now. Not while her brain was still grappling with the new information that would absolutely, utterly change things if she let it slip.

“I should get packing!” She was already backing away, heart pounding, practically tripping over her own feet as she darted toward her room. “Talk later, bye!”

“Wait, what—?”

“NOTHING!” She didn’t let him finish before she slammed her door shut, pressing her back against it. 

Holy shit.

One minute home, and she already felt like she was gonna blow it.

Because Tyler liked Josh. Her never shown interest in relationships, one-track mind—gym, school, repeat, roommate Josh. 

At least she had winter break to process this knowledge and deal with it later. She pulled out her suitcase from under her bed to pack, suddenly eager to do the chore she was initially dreading.

She had way too much power right now and no clue what to do with it.

Chapter Text

The aroma of cinnamon and candle wax diffusing throughout the house couldn’t quite make it feel like Christmas. Not with his sibling’s Holiday Hits playlist being drowned out by their mom’s podcast about Q1 strategy forecasting. Sitting hunched in the formal dining room, Josh inattentively jabbed at the lukewarm egg white omelet ahead of him.

Even before finishing her coffee, his mother had been blathering about internship paperwork. He struggled to absorb the information; her words whistled through one ear and out the other as Josh’s eyes steadied on her reindeer-sculpted mug, waving in her clutch. They tracked the decade-old art project as if it would provide some kind of escape from the present day.

“You’ll need to call Carol at the office on Tuesday,” she instructed, standing over him like a manager with a clipboard. “She’s trying to set aside a spot for you at the DC branch this summer, unless you want to start earlier. With your GPA, they’d take you during spring, I’m sure, but you’d have to take your classes alongside it. You know how competitive those spots get.”

Josh twirled his fork slowly, droning on with a narrow glare, barren and cold, akin to the landscape outside. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

Unperturbed, his mother smiled merrily like he’d merely cracked a joke. “You’ll thank us later.”

He really hoped she was right.

All throughout the visit, they’d been slipping him articles to read, videos to watch, and practice interview questions to answer— like he hadn’t done enough already. Coming home from a semester of doing everything he was supposed to do still meant there would be more boxes to check off. This time, the next item on their meticulously curated vision board was a summer internship that would put him over the top.

The echo of freshly polished shoes descended from the grand staircase behind them. Sure enough, his father waltzed in, planting a swift peck on his wife’s cheek with a conventional “Morning.” The eldest man clapped a firm hand on his son’s shoulder, borrowing a disconcerted glance from him.

“Hey, what do you say we head out for a bit today? Just you and me. Thought it might be nice.” The professionally dapper man’s hospitality was palpable. 

Josh perked up, concurrently surprised and entertained by the unexpected proposition. Maybe they could go to lunch or do something special pertaining to the holidays. Hell, it didn’t even need to be festive if it meant evading the career talk. Then the eagerness faded when he saw his father’s jingling keys in his clasp, the faint gleam of cufflinks catching the light at his wrist.

“Sure,” he agreed tentatively. “Where to?”

An hour later, they were in the sleek corporate elevator brisking up to the twelfth floor.

What followed wasn’t lunch or a real conversation. Instead, it was a two-hour meeting in a boardroom where Josh was introduced but never invited to speak. Next, a walking lecture about presence, posture, and carrying yourself like someone people want to invest in. Apparently, he fidgeted too much and needed to improve his eye contact.

His dad’s office tour was all packaged as bonding, but underneath it was just another lesson. Another way of teaching him that if he played the part and abided by the rules, then and only then would he be worth something. “People don’t always realize how much value a job like this gives you. You won’t be granted much respect if you don’t have something solid to show you’ve earned it.” His father’s words wrapped around his thoughts like a ribbon pulled too tight on a Christmas gift. The present was meant to hold it all together, but warped the box beneath until it nearly buckled.

What pestered him most wasn’t the lecture; it was the dismal office itself. Each desk was bathed in the kind of stale overhead light that mimicked a winter sky, dull and unrelenting, all color drained to a lifeless gray. Every person was shackled to their cubicle, laser-focused on agonizingly monotonous reports with phone receivers fused to their ears. No one stopped to look up at the clock or calendar. It was Christmas Eve, and this was normal.

Josh detested the concept of working somewhere that treated being at your desk on holidays like a badge of honor. Being financially stable, they could afford to relax with their loved ones, yet their profession never paused. The reward for dedication was just more of the same, life measured in quotas and quarterly returns.

After college, this would be his life. His name wasn’t just penciled in, but forged with permanent ink into a binding contract, sealing his fate before he could review the fine print.

Josh fled to his bedroom, not bothering to shut the door behind him. Standing stagnant for a moment, he stared down at the suit his dad lent him that morning. Tailored, uniformed, and neatly pressed—it was a costume he’d been caught wearing for too long.

He peeled it off piece by piece as if he couldn’t escape fast enough. It reminded him how soon he’d be trading in his grungy accessories for a lavish suit of his own. The piercings would have to go. The red hair dye, too. Any and all of his personality scraped clean in favor of a more esteemed appearance. The clothes hit the floor with a spiteful thud, but there was no sense of relief to accompany it. Instead, he immediately bent down, scooping it up like it had been wounded, and laid it tenderly across the bed.

Remorsefully, he smoothed out the sleeves, then unbuttoned the dress shirt with care, trying not to wrinkle it further. His hands trembled slightly as he retrieved the hanger from the closet, slowly fitting the suit back into place with precision. He needed to respect this life, suck it up, and stop being so dramatic.

This was a great opportunity. An honor, even. His father always said people would kill for this measure of adoration. So why did it feel like a trap?

His lungs prickled as if jagged fractals iced over—the kind of way that nipped at your edges and froze its way to your vulnerable middle. As he gripped the closet door frame, hoping it would hold him steady, a nudge was felt against his knee. Jim had wandered in, tail swaying leisurely. Josh sank to the floor and trailed his quivering fingertips through silky, golden fur.

Amongst the soft clatter of cooking in the kitchen, hearty laughter echoed from his siblings downstairs. His mom would soon be calling for him to change into the matching Christmas pajamas: pristine red flannel with gold buttons. His pair was already laid out on the edge of his bed.

He wished he could just melt into the simple, nostalgic joy of the holiday. Years passed seemed so much grander when his parents didn’t expect more from him. Though the lights continuously twinkled and the same music played, all he could feel was their probing analysis. All he wanted was to fall into their arms rather than be molded into a product. 

Muscles aching, his body seemed to recognize the absence before his brain did—that he craved a drink. God, he wanted a drink. But not here with his family, where even the clink of a wineglass would reverberate off the walls, screaming of failure.

Josh’s eyes glided around his childhood bedroom, taking in the shelves lined with dust-coated trophies and old art projects; a museum exhibit for a version of himself that didn’t exist anymore. His focus then adhered to the ring of keys taunting him on the nightstand.

Owning a car and an apartment on campus now, he could leave with some random excuse. Or not say anything at all. If he wanted to, he could leave tomorrow night, after the photos, gift exchanges, and short-term laughs. His parents might be disappointed, and he would miss his siblings, sure, but they’d get over it.

He could get a jumpstart on next semester’s course load, or just take advantage of having the apartment to himself. With no judging eyes on him, he could drink until the frostbite in his chest melted into a numbing puddle.

Jim settled his muzzle deeper into Josh’s lap, trained to thaw the anxiety that frosted over. That shaggy fur felt more real than anything else in this residence. One of his hands scratched behind the dog’s ear, and the other curled into the carpet.

Snowflakes tapped gently against the window, drifting in that slow, hypnotic way that made everything seem smaller than it was. The world looked delicately distant, yet artificially kind.

If he timed it right, he could slip out tomorrow night once the festivities had worn down. If he promised to prepare for the spring semester courses, maybe his parents wouldn’t protest. They’d probably even be proud of his due diligence. After all, his line of work was more respected than Josh’s actual presence in this house.

✲

Tyler didn’t hate Christmas. All things considered, he was having a decent time. Alongside Jenna’s parents and siblings, he spent the day baking way too many cookies. Adding towers of whipped cream and mountains of marshmallows, they overloaded their hot chocolate beyond belief. Gingerbread decorating had turned into a competition equivalent to an Olympic sport. Their traditions were welcoming in a way that made it easy to decompress.

Still, there was a sensitivity to everything. That subtle, lingering something is missing type of funk that swarmed inside and wouldn’t dissipate, no matter how tasty the homemade peppermint bark was.

Sunken into the couch corner, Tyler and Jenna sat shoulder to shoulder. His Danny Phantom pajama pants and Sonic the Hedgehog novelty tee shamelessly clashed with the family’s customarily festive attire. Even though he advocated for the Muppets Christmas Carol, he spared his attention to The Santa Clause broadcast across the living room TV. Colorful bulbs wrapped around the tree in a rhythm of steady sparkles. They highlighted the presents underneath, some generously tagged with Tyler’s name. It was cozy, all was fine. 

Then came the buzz of his phone.

Retrieving the device from the heap of Nordic-patterned sherpa blankets draped over their laps, Tyler’s eyes widened at the dimly lit screen. The contact name sent a chilling whirlwind of dreadful trepidation through his bones before he even read the message’s contents.

Merry Christmas Eve!

Alone, the cookie-cutter greeting was flavored with cheer, but the tension concealed between the lines was unmistakable. The foreboding howled like wind just before a blizzard hit. It was the same unsettling humility he’d been conditioned to know all too well.

He instinctively stashed the device back into the billows of blankets. He brushed off her message like frost on a windshield, until something inside encouraged the drive. Maybe it was the spirit of the season possessing him, but Tyler generously decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Clinging to the hope, however fragile, he prayed that she was reaching out with genuine care instead of some glad-hand veiled in tinsel.

Testing the frigid waters, the initial response was kept purposefully bland:

merry christmas

Almost immediately, his phone indicated that his message had been read. The receipt mapped out the twisting road ahead of him, uncharted territory coated in a canvas of white.

We all miss you! When are you going to come visit us?

i miss you guys too

soon, i hope

It wasn’t a total lie. Truthfully, he yearned for a visit, but the problem wasn’t about finding free time. Being there felt like trying to tape together a precious ornament and pretending it wasn’t cracked in the first place. Even just a quick stay always induced cabin fever.

How have you been doing? Has school been OK?

That question was always a tricky one. The gusts in his mind picked up speed, stabbing through his clothes like a knife, thus exposing his skin. He selected his phrasing carefully so as not to disturb the avalanche with the slightest wrong move.

i’m doing good, school’s been fine. the workload has been kind of crazy, but i’ve been keeping up with it alright

That’s good.

When she didn’t utter any judgmental remarks, a flurry of alleviation swept over him. Although refreshing, he wouldn’t allow himself a celebration just yet. Her blatant lack of interest in his life still stung with apathy. Man, he could never win. 

How are you spending christmas?

At her next speedy message, the realization hit Tyler that, yup, this was the real reason she was reaching out. It was always the holidays stirring things up. The whirling sensation beseeched him to run, but the snow piled up to his knees. He was in too deep to turn back now.

i’m staying with Jenna and her family

Oh okay

You know you’re always welcome to come home whenever you’d like.

Staring at the response, Tyler felt that well-known burden strike him down from a single sentence. The type that wore a smile but still bared teeth.

Inhaling a sharp breath, his thumbs twiddled over the keyboard with precision.

i know

He hoped that would be the end of it. Maybe Mom would leave it at that, and they could both pretend it was a normal exchange. Then the three looming dots bounced across her side of the text chain, indicating she was typing up a storm. 

Lifting his head for the first time since pulling out his phone, he noticed Jenna’s body turned towards him. At her obvious worry, he waved her off. He tried to immerse himself back into the movie, but a nippy tightness clouded his throat.

Then the device chimed again, promptly regaining his attention. The aforementioned calm winds took off into full-blown chaos. Any of his previous tranquility was barricaded shut by a thick, freezing blizzard—the kind that swallowed towns and shut down schools.

I miss you, your dad misses you, whether you think so or not. Just because we wanted a better life for you doesn’t mean we’re these evil people you make us out to be. It’s not fair to us and it’s not fair to your brothers and sisters that you keep us in the dark, but always put Jenna’s family first just because they supported your dead-end choices. They’re not your family. We just wanted the best for you and now you’re stuck at this Walmart job making minimum wage. Remember, we never kicked you out. You still have your room here if you ever wanted to come home.

The final paragraph made his stomach turn in a way that had nothing to do with the various seasonal treats. His screen darkened automatically as the text sat unresolved, too taxing to touch.

He hadn’t noticed the movie was over until the credits were halfway through their slow crawl up the flatscreen and Jenna’s family gradually emptied around him. The sudden switch of an overhead light fractured the gentle glow of the Christmas tree, dissolving the restful hush that had settled peacefully over the evening.

Time felt strangely slippery, swerving him off course like black ice against rolling tires. Squinting his vision, he couldn’t recall how long he’d been sitting there or when Jenna stood to collect the snack bowls. At the eye contact, her posture paused in watchful concern. 

Before either of the roommates could speak, Mrs. Black stepped forward, radiating maternal warmth. “You okay, hon? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so tired this early.”

Tyler managed a flimsy smile, thin as ice. The light was already drained from him, leaving a small, sorry kid devoured by couch cushions.

When he didn’t respond right away, she continued, “Maybe it’s for the best. Go get some sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Don’t want you to be too tired when we open presents in the morning!” She shot a quirky wink that only good-hearted mothers could manage. 

Their family was all so good. By never asking for any type of repayment, it always confused the heck out of Tyler. There was a weird swell of appreciation mixed with guilt, sensing that they were helping out of both love and pity.

Murmuring a civil Goodnight, he slinked out of the living room. Alongside the sound of his feet padding up the stairs, Mrs. Black’s voice traced behind him. “We’re glad you’re here, sweetheart. You’re part of this family, too.”

And that’s what undid him more than anything else. Regardless of the consolation and courtesy attempting to reassure him otherwise, he knew that it wasn’t really true.

The guest bedroom smelled faintly of fresh laundry and peppermint air freshener; tidy and lived-in, but not fully by him.

The room formerly belonged to Jenna’s older brother before he moved out. Now it wore that vaguely impersonal vibe of a repurposed space. Sparse and practical, like it was trying to be friendly without making assumptions. Some of Tyler’s cheap decor still littered the area from his previous stay. A few paintings were command-stripped onto the wall so as not to leave a permanent mark. A framed Polaroid of him and Jenna from high school rested on the dresser beside an action figure with vulture wings. Little things. Things that tried to say you’re accepted here without quite managing to say you belong.

This wasn’t his room, not really. Instead, it was a liminal, crashing-at-your-friend’s-house type of place that started temporary and stretched out longer than intended. 

He plopped down on the edge of the bed and unlocked his phone. The screen illuminated his mother’s words, unanswered. He read them again, slower this time to absorb every passive dig.

You still have your room here if you ever wanted to come home.

His mouth twisted on the word “home.” She kept implying it was a universal constant that the house you grew up in was supposed to be considered home. Ping-ponging through his brain, the word didn’t sit right. The longer he stared at it, the more alien it felt. Her presence didn’t feel like home, not after everything.

When he took in the scene of the perfectly tidy, perfectly okay guest room, he knew this wasn’t his home either. And geez, he felt guilty for that notion when Jenna’s family did everything right. They embraced him like one of their own, yet he still felt like a charity case. How ungrateful he was for taking up space in someone else’s benevolence.

Lost in the blur of it all, he sought out his sketchbook, craving something to occupy his fidgeting hands. Drawing had always been his release valve, but his wordless lines came out stiff with pointless curves and nonsense strokes. Frowning, he tried again, but nothing flowed.

Man, he wished he had brought more of his art supplies from home…

Wait.

Home?

There was that godforsaken word again. What did that even mean now? Sure, his name was on the lease, but Jenna paid for half of the apartment as a school necessity. It was more of a tool than a home. A vagabond he was, always floating between places; welcome in all of them, but rooted in none.

The sketchbook sat limply in his lap now, untouched besides the few chicken scratches. He fell back onto the mattress, letting his limbs sink into the soft cotton sheets. The ceiling above him swam slightly.

A gentle knock pulled Tyler out of his trance. His attention snapped forward as Jenna pushed the door open, head poking in before she stepped inside. Shimmying her pink reindeer slippers across the hardwood, she carried a commiseration that suggested she’d been pacing outside for a bit.

“Hey,” she started, dripping with rapport. “Didn’t mean to bother you. I just… saw you texting your mom earlier. Thought I’d check in.”

Tyler stalled with a half-smile, faltering sooner than anticipated. “Caught red-handed, huh.”

His roommate walked over and joined him on the bed, close enough for comfort, but not crowding him. “Only because you looked like someone slapped you through the screen.”

“Yeah. Something like that.” The following woeful silence stretched long enough for Jenna to reach over and gently bump her shoulder against his. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” she assured. “But you can. If you want.”

After a moment of contemplation, he opted to hand Jenna the phone so she could read for herself. For a minute, he watched her eyes dart over the narrative, waiting for that obligatory grimace of sympathy.

“I mean…” Leaning back against the headboard, he scanned the ceiling like it might offer him some clarity through the foggy window of his mind. “She’s wrong about a lot. But not everything… I am broke. I’ve been skating by for months. I think… I think I’m just gonna go back to the apartment after Christmas. Pick up extra shifts and hitch some rides to work. Or walk, even. Try not to spiral.”

Jenna’s expression appeared a little dejected, but not shocked. There was a beat of nothing except thought, then a platonic hand rested on his knee. “Okay. Yeah. We’ll tell my parents after breakfast or something. I can drop you off at the apartment.”

He blinked at her. “You sure?”

Jenna nodded sweetly, pure as driven snow. “Positive. If going back means getting your footing again, then I’ll help you pack snacks for the ride.”

That finally earned a real smile from him, tired but grateful. He leaned his head sideways against hers for a second, a little bump of affection that didn’t need words.

They drifted apart when Jenna yawned. “Okay, I really need to crash before I fall asleep here. Mom’s already threatening to make cinnamon rolls at six in the morning, and I want to be conscious enough to appreciate them.”

Tyler chuckled, chin dropping down to his neck. “God forbid you miss a sugary breakfast.”

“Exactly.” Standing up, her polished fingers floated over the light switch. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“I won’t.”

She paused in the doorway, silhouetted against the mellow hallway light. “No sad sketching at two a.m.” 

Tyler held up two fingers in a mock Scout’s honor. “No promises.”

With a roll of her eyes, Jenna disappeared out of view into her own room. The door clicked shut behind her, and just like that, he was alone again. The dark resonated around him as he lugged the sketchbook back into his lap. Maybe if he stopped thinking and just let the lines happen, something would come of it.

But before he could start, his phone buzzed one last time. The device presented another text from his mom; plain and straightforward, but equally grueling and benumbing.

I love you.

Heartbeat slow yet erratic, he stared at the message. Her promise was far from healing, like a falling icicle piercing the emotional armor he’d tried to weld shut. He hated feeling guilty for not replying and even guiltier for not believing the affirmation.

He didn’t want to admit he missed his parents, but he often imagined a version of them he wished existed. Some feeble part of him yearned for some impossible moment of understanding that never came.

What was wrong with him?

With a scowl, he locked his phone and dropped it face down on the nightstand. The stillness of the room buzzed in his ears. Maybe Jenna’s mom was right; he just needed to go to bed.

Tyler slid the sketchbook out of reach. Ruining the nicely made bed, he peeled back the covers and sank beneath the layers. The task of shoveling through his racing was thoughts was far too demanding for that night. Though the morning sun couldn’t thaw the entire tundra, he hoped some flakes would melt away on the upcoming road ahead of him.

Chapter Text

Ready when you are. Waiting by grocery side.

Expelling a noiseless sigh, Tyler reviewed the text from Mark. Resentful eyes temporarily squinted at the last few customers straggling by. Remember, this is all overtime. Think of the paycheck, he convinced himself it would soon be worthwhile. Rapid fingers tapped across the screen, attempting to churn out a response before his bosses could catch him sneaking the device.

coming. still trying to close gm

these people are taking forever i'm gonna lose my mind if they don't hurry the heck up

Hardly sparing enough time to send the message, a disgruntled older man barked from a nearby register. “Excuse me, sir! Take these grapes off. They’re too expensive!” Sharp as a knife, his voice sliced through the self-checkout area with no room for patience. 

Tyler ambled over, voiding the item while simultaneously sliding his personal device into the depths of his vest pocket. “Should be all good for ya now.” His tone was courteous and practiced, unfazed by typical customer impudence.

“Very good.” The customer’s words landed like a slamming door, being the closest thing to a thank you that Tyler knew he would receive. Without giving the cashier time to step away, the old man grabbed a fistful of grapes off the stem and shoveled them straight into his mouth. “There, that oughta do it.” He chewed the stolen fruit as he reweighed the new customized portion. At this man’s blatancy, Tyler leered in awe before ultimately deciding to turn a blind eye.

Whatever. Walmart can afford to lose a few dollars.  

This mentality was the direct result of a particularly bizarre and grueling week. Christmas and New Year's had come and gone, creating an influx of customers storming the aisles for discounted rolls of wrapping paper and bountiful cases of beer. If Tyler had to correct one more reduced price or approve another age verification, he was going to flip the heck out. On top of the post-holiday sales, it was also the beginning of the month, which reeled in a whole extra crowd of shoppers using their food stamps. Overflowing carts of groceries occupied his 15 items or less lanes, backing up endless lines and acquiring more of his assistance than necessary. As chaotic and stressful as it was, he knew his circumstances were self-inflicted. He chose to be here over staying at Jenna’s place; therefore, he wasn’t allowed to complain. At least by powering through the havoc of Walmart, he was productive and earning money as opposed to freeloading and taking advantage of other people’s kindness.

All he wanted was to kick back, relax, and squeeze in some time with his projects before winter break slipped away. His art tablet beckoned him—not for the backlog of commissions he was supposed to be cranking out, but for the flood of new Clancy ideas that possessed his mind. They needed out. They needed form.

Since Christmas, he’d been stuck in a frustrating limbo, deserted on an unimaginative island with no one to confide. Always brimming with creativity, yet unable to turn it into anything tangible. The cycle had become maddening: paralyzing his hand before it could wield the pencil. Ultimately, those hours would vanish into gaming, scrolling, or binging old cartoons from his childhood, even as the guilt of wasted time settled into his bones. Each day that passed without progress made the weight heavier, but he clung to the hope that maybe tonight would be different.

Once the grape thief strolled off with his cart, Tyler efficiently swooped in to shut down the final register. Before anything else could hinder his departure, he yanked his phone from his pocket and urgently clocked out. Thank goodness. Off in the distance shimmered a glow of freedom just beyond the automatic doors.

Zipping off his vest with vigor, another one of his iconic outfits was unveiled to the world. This time it was a bright pink undershirt with a Red Bull tee layered above. He jammed his uniform into his tote bag and substituted it with a Chevy camo jacket to top it all off. Dressing fun on the outside would overcompensate for his feelings on the inside, right?

On the way over to Mark, another customer materialized in his peripheral. Tyler recognized the pair of wine bottles in his hands before their eyes even met. Elation furled in his chest, not having seen the guy’s face since before break.

“Hey!” He skidded to a halt to greet him from the opposite end of the self-checkout. Surely he was loud enough, obnoxiously so, yet Tyler garnered no reaction. Behind a pair of thick square glasses he had never seen before, half-lidded, cloudy eyes were glued to the bottle labels. “Hi, stranger,” reiterated the cashier, veering closer to the inattentive man’s side.

That seemed to be enough to retract him from his daze. Joshua nearly flinched as he registered who was standing in front of him, pupils darting around in search of an explanation. "Oh- Hi... you-you're here?" Peering upward, the view of the closed registers and rope blocking the space between them implemented a furrow of his brows. Tyler watched it dawn on him in real time, overwhelmingly dispirited. “You’re closed.”

“You just missed me. I clocked out.” Breaking the harsh news, his knuckles knocked against his sticker-embellished phone case. Then he looked at Joshua– oops. He’s got to get used to that. He looked at Josh more closely now. Really looked at him.

He still looked good—of course he did, it was Josh—but there was a frayed quality to his edges that Tyler hadn’t noticed before. The customer looked a little worse for wear with dark shadows draping under his jaded eyes. Discordant strands of hair sticking out from his black beanie indicated it hadn’t been washed in a while. The red-dyed mullet also faded from lack of care, sporting a dull, wiry pink, wet from sweat.

"I didn't think you'd be back so soon.” Certainly, he would understand what Tyler was referring to without further clarification.

Almost looking embarrassed, Josh fought with the bottles shakily. His grip intensified, as if trying to shield them from plain view with his large hands. “Yeah, me either. It just turned out that way, I guess.” He looked Tyler up and down, still baffled by his presence.

The acidity in Josh’s tone was akin to how he sounded at the birthday party. His parents seemed like judges in a courtroom he could never impress. It hurt to imagine his friend confined to a trial like that. Maybe Josh didn’t have the best Christmas either.

“Well, it’s good to see you. How are you doing now, then? It’s been a few weeks, we should catch up.” Prefacing with an uneasy expression, it was clear that Josh didn’t expect such a considerate follow-up question. He quickly sealed his lips together when a pair of other customers sauntered by with one of those ruthlessly clamorous grocery carts. Right. They're at Walmart.

“Never mind. We don’t have to do this here,” Tyler motioned to the retail air surrounding them. Maybe in another setting, they could open up more: a place where they wouldn’t be interrupted by ringing registers and screaming kids. Josh nodded silently, making the curls sticking out from his hat bounce like springs. The sight made Tyler grin stupidly. All of a sudden, the plan he idolized all day of drawing in the comfort of his apartment, didn’t sound nearly as enticing. “Did you maybe wanna talk elsewhere? We can sit down somewhere less Walmart-y.”

Stuck processing the invitation, his unconfident fingers picked at the cork of the wine. “Uh, like right now?” Tracking his eyes to the bottles, it was evident Josh already had drinking-related plans. Alcohol wasn’t really up Tyler’s alley, but he was happy to be a part of it without indulging.

“Yeah, if you wanted. I still owe you a hangout, and Jenna’s not here to intervene this time. There’s a bar a little down the street. Never been, but I’ve heard good things.” His hand met Josh’s, tapping on the label himself.

Josh’s broad shoulders hunched. “Sure, that could be nice- but um… I actually ran here.” He looked faintly shameful for some reason. Lowering his attention, Tyler finally noticed his black joggers and speckles of sweat darkening his gray zip-up hoodie. Objectively, yeah, he looked like a spiraling mess, but who was Tyler to judge?

“That’s okay, I don’t even have the car right now either.” Geez, hopefully he didn’t sound too pushy. “Actually, I have an idea. Here!” At that, he smiled goofily and snatched the bottles to drop them into an item return bin. Tyler’s Vans slid on the linoleum to slingshot himself across the other side of the store.

When he arrived, his coworker boded an exhausted flare of a survivor clocking out of retail purgatory. “Whoa,” Mark straightened his posture from leaning against a shelf display. “There you are. You ready?”

Breathless, Tyler struggled to recuperate from his minute of exercise. “Yeah, slight change in plans though. I’m hanging out with Josh, so do you think you could give us a ride? It’s on the way.”

Peeking over his associate’s shoulder, Mark locked eyes with Josh, who was catching up a few yards behind. “The wine guy?” Tyler’s nod and complimentary guilty smile evoked a knowing look from Mark. “Okay, sure. Where are you going?”

“Just the bar down the street.” His impatient feet shimmied back and forth on the tile. 

Tyler was right in knowing his coworker would be suspicious about the alcohol-related answer. “I guess,” scowled Mark, struggling to imagine his friend in such a setting. He then looked up at Josh and fetched his keys confidently, acting like he had solved the puzzle. “Sure, that’s fine, but you know I can’t pick you up. I’ve gotta work on my film project.” 

“I know. We’ll figure something out!” He reassured by nudging Josh’s shoulder. Once acknowledged by a low hum of agreement, Tyler whirled toward the exit doors that had been calling his name all night. He was beyond ready to swap the buzzing fluorescent lights for some dim bar ones despite their unfamiliarity. Advancing a hop forward, the clocked-out cashier guided the way for the two others to follow suit. “Let’s rock and roll.”

✲

As the van slowed to a stop, a crooked open sign hung in the bar’s frosty window came into view. Tucked between two unassuming shops, the place emitted a soothing, mellow vibe against the bitterness of the night. The interior’s warm glow lured them like a moth to a flame.

Unapologetically, a nippy January breeze barged in through the open door as Josh climbed out of the vehicle. Before Tyler bolted after him, an extended arm steadied him in place. He looked back in confusion, only to see Mark wink and give an almost fatherly pat on the shoulder. “Go get 'em, tiger.” Tyler playfully rolled his eyes so hard he could see the inside of his skull. He prayed Josh hadn’t heard him as they thanked Mark and shut the doors behind them. 

A smidge intimidated by the scene, Tyler relied on Josh beside him. The light from the streetlamps illuminated his face, damp from his workout. The exhaustion that clung to him seemed to have lessened a little, but there was something heavy in the way he carried himself.

Politely welcoming Tyler inside, Josh held the door open with chivalry. Relaxed chatter bounced off the worn wooden floors and old peeling wallpaper. The establishment felt alive, yet nothing too overstimulating, thank goodness. Simply a chill place to unwind.

“This is so weird, not being the one to approve your ID this time. Here you’re not my regular!” He quipped while they both pulled out their wallets.

In a contradictory twist, Josh teetered between a genuine smile and a self-conscious cringe. Although there was uncertainty about why the term would bother Josh, Tyler brushed it off, trying to keep it cool. He rocked on his heels half behind his friend, unaccustomed but happy to be there. “I don’t even know what to order.”

“Do you want me to order for you? I like getting a bunch at once to get it over with. Less talking to people that way.” Offered Josh, though his words didn’t fully process through Tyler’s head. Lingering by the edge of the counter, he was too busy noting how the bar’s neon blue lights reflected on Josh’s curls; the colors warped pale red dye into a sparkling purple. The cool glow shone a lovely silhouette on his profile. It highlighted his hooked nose, making him want to capture the angelicness with paint on canvas. Overcome by the urge to create, he mumbled dreamily, “Yeah, sure, whatever…”

Snapping back to the present, he didn’t realize what he had agreed to. Josh was ordering a lot more alcohol than for just one person, obviously trying to do something nice.

Aw, crap.

It was too late to object when both their IDs were handed over. "Hey, uh," Tyler started when the bartender left to prepare refreshments at the other counter, “you didn’t have to do that, you know."

"Don’t worry about it. Drinks are on me.” Anxiously proud, Josh grinned back at him. His insistence made Tyler’s confession immensely more difficult.

"No, like, really. You didn’t have to. I, uh." He shifted uncomfortably while Josh blinked at him in oblivion. Especially in this setting, it was hard to admit, but he needed to be honest. "I don’t really drink."

Color draining from his face, Josh didn’t move a muscle besides whipping his head back to the bartender. His desperation was apparent; he wanted to cancel his order, but was too nervous to intervene. Meanwhile, Tyler wished to crawl into a hole and vanish from existence. Together they stood stiff and awkwardly like two helpless spectators watching an alien sport.

All finished and ready to go, the huddle of drinks was finally slid over. The booze varied in size: some tall, and some short shot glasses. Tyler didn’t know much about alcohol, but knew it had to be a lot. It was reminiscent of the last time they got food; Josh basically ordered the entire Taco Bell menu simply because he didn’t know what Tyler liked. 

“Do you want something else then?” Suddenly worried, Josh practically whisper-shouted through clenched teeth. “Anything at all?”

Tyler glanced between him and the impassive bartender hanging nearby. “Um, can I get a Dr Pepper?” At his childish request, the others scrunched their faces. Nonetheless, the cup was filled and passed over the countertop.

“I’m a simple guy,” he shrugged, bluffing nonchalance while taking the first sip. Before he could even think of offering his share, a debit card that wasn’t his own covered their order with one slick swipe. The deed nearly made Tyler choke on a carbonated cough.

“Let’s find a seat.” Already grabbing the array of glasses and aiming for the farthest booth from the crowd, Josh cut him off before giving him a chance to retaliate. Realizing he wasn’t letting up, Tyler reluctantly gave in and helped carry the rest.

Though the rustic bar was simple and their corner booth was cozy, he couldn’t shake the perturbation of being out of place. “I should’ve said something sooner, I just didn’t expect you to do that,” he explained, “I can pay for half.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Much to Tyler’s dismay, Josh exhorted. The paid-off liquor gawked at him intimidatingly, coaxing a challenge. Wanting to impress the wine virtuoso, he decided to give it a fair shot. It’s a taste test. How bad could it be?  

“Okay, let me try one at least. Maybe it’ll surprise me.” His suggestion earned a skeptical look. Despite this, Josh relaxed into the seat and let him take his pick.

Grabbing the drink he presumed to be the tamest—perhaps a cocktail, something fruity—Tyler took a sip and immediately regretted it. His face contorted into a grimace from the sharp, inordinate burn. Nearly making him gag, it was bitter in all the wrong ways. He slammed the glass back down, disgusted.

Josh observed with an acute smirk. "Well?"

Forcing a quivering smile, he pushed down the rawness in his throat. "A little strong–" An awful chill shuddering down his spine at the aftertaste forced him to pause for a breather. “Um, yeah. I think- I think I’ll pass. M’sorry.”

Josh nodded sympathetically. His fingers reached for a beverage, but hovered over the rim. “So I don’t understand,” the red-dyed brunette interjected his pondering with a question of his own. “Why are we here then, if this isn’t your thing?”

“I just wanted to hang out with you!” The lightweight explained with animated hands as if his intentions were crystal clear. “We have a lot to catch up on, and you wanted to drink.” 

Entertainment fading into something more concerned, Joshua stared for a moment. "It’s fine if you don’t want to drink, but... are you gonna feel weird if I do?”

“No. I mean, that was the original plan.” Then to correct himself, he added in a low murmur, “in my head, anyway.” With a bit more of his typical upbeat attitude, he pouted coyly with his arms crossed. “But you beat me to it. I’m the one who invited you out, I was supposed to wine and dine you.”

“Oh- um. I don’t m– damn.” Joshua tripped over his words before collecting himself, expelling a huff. “I guess, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. We can do something else that you like more."

Lightheartedly, Tyler shook his head. "Seriously, it’s just not for me. Get your money’s worth and do whatever you normally would with all that wine you get. I don’t care.” Reaching out his arm, he raised the soda and cracked a small smile to assist the gesture. “I’ve got my Dr Pepper and my Joshu–” Oh for crying out loud. “my Josh. I’m all good if you are.”

Josh skimmed the refreshments whilst subtly licking the inside of his thin lips. Finally, he sighed and reached for a glass, bumping it gently against Tyler’s outstretched drink with a clink. "Alright, if you’re sure."

Grinning like a fool, Tyler announced a classically corny “cheers” before sipping at his beverage. Across the booth, Josh downed the shot, swallowing it full without flinching. The guy didn’t even make a face, leaving a stunned Tyler sitting and wondering how. This was nothing to him, and from the looks of it, he was just getting started. 

✲

As the night stretched on, he observed the effects of alcohol on Josh. It started with small things: beefy shoulders dropped from their usual rigid position, and speech slurred slightly but nowhere beyond comprehension. The bar was sluggish with subtle music whistling over the old-fashioned decor. Tyler hadn’t paid mind to the songs until a familiar bass bumped through the speakers. He recognized it immediately: “Soul Meets Body” by Death Cab for Cutie. It wasn’t abnormal to hear one of their popular songs on the radio, but what surprised him most was Josh drumming his fingers to the beat.

“You like this song?” Issuing the ultimate test, Tyler perked up. This response would be make or break.

Mouth full of whiskey, Josh nodded with much more passion than Tyler would have ever anticipated. The second that swig was swallowed, he smacked the empty cup down and declared, “I love Death Cab.”

A flare of euphoria fluttered in his chest. “Are you kidding? Where have you been my whole life? Oh my gosh, what’s your favorite song?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the answer was revealed. “Transatlanticism.” 

What were the odds!? As if he wasn’t already infatuated with this guy, this sealed the deal. “Dude!” He feverishly adjourned in a gasp, but Josh kept going.

“And ‘What Sarah Said,’” he added devastatingly, yet his expression remained stagnant.

“Oh!” Wide-eyed, Tyler’s beaming smile wavered at the corners in mild concern. “Wow, um. Are you okay?” he asked rambunctiously.

“No!” Josh responded with a loose, exasperated laugh that blended into a giggle. The tip of his tongue peeked out between his contagious toothy grin, spouting a surge of warmth under Tyler’s rosy cheeks. Josh was usually wound so tight, so seeing him unravel a little was gratifying—like watching a dog finally nap in a sunny spot after pacing for hours. Enamored, all Tyler could think in that moment was Gosh, he could get used to this.

To continue the act, Josh wiped away a pretend tear before guzzling another drink. Words flowing a little more easily, his language lost its usual clipped formality. “They’re so great. I’ve been blasting them on repeat in my apartment all week.” 

“Wait, so you’ve been here this whole week?” The question pulled a nod from the guy across from him. “I’m surprised we haven’t bumped into each other ‘til now.”

Sloppy in motion, he shifted in the seat. “Yeah. Uh, I’ve been kind of busy, all my classes are coming up. And I, um…” The sentence trailed off, leaving his words hanging midair. Something in Josh’s expression faltered when they made eye contact. A cloud drifted over his head all of a sudden. “Ugh, this is so stupid,” he muttered in a singular, frustrated huff. “I am… way too drunk to be lying to you. C’n I be honest?” 

No questions asked, Tyler granted his obligatory permission with a sincere “Sure, yeah.” Even though he was uncertain where this would lead their conversation, it was important to establish that this was a safe space.

Lethargically, he took another undaunted swig. “I told my parents I was coming back to get a head start on school, but I haven’t really been doing anything. They were hounding me the whole time I was home. I couldn’t–” he froze, biting his lip on his words. While Josh’s hazy focus landed on something far in the distance, Tyler kept his steady eyes on course. He didn’t like the sound of anything he was hearing, especially as Josh kept going. 

“I know it’s not even that big of a deal. ‘M jus’ being dramatic, but it’s been so hard to do anything this past week. I’ve only been rotting in bed ‘n wallowing, like, this whole time.” There was that word again: wallowing. Tyler frowned, remembering how Josh used it to describe himself months ago. Had he been feeling this way for that long?  

“This is the first time I’ve left the apartment, and no offense ‘cause I’m happy to be here with you, but I still feel like shit since… since I know ’m not getting anything done tonight. Not like I would’ve if I went straight home anyway, I guess.” Josh shrugged, sounding like he was admitting more than he normally would sober. Though he spoke bitterly, he brushed it off like it wasn’t a big deal. Some tension behind his confession—some flicker of wary honesty—stuck with Tyler.

“Hey, it’ll be alright. I know it might not feel like it, but maybe this is what you need. A night out, getting out of your room for a little while,” Tyler dug for a positive spin on this. His mind flashed back to the way Josh made him feel better when he opened up on the curb during his birthday party. “Maybe it’s what I needed, too. I’ve been having kind of a hard time as well, honestly.” 

Refocusing his fading attention, Josh lifted his head to connect the dots, “That’s why you’re here…” Too caught up in his revelation, he forgot to clarify, “Back early from break, I mean.”

“I left partially because of this whole thing with me and my mom.” He rolled his eyes. “She started texting me on Christmas Eve. It was whatever at first until she kinda went off because she’s jealous I chose Jenna’s family over hers.” There was a momentary blip in his explanation when he realized what he’d just said. Hers. It was Her family, not his own. “A-and it’s like… this is literally the reason why I never go hom- over there. There can never be a civil conversation, she’s always gotta turn nothing into something. It’s so draining.” Was he sharing too much? He was already in so deep, but hopefully it wasn’t scaring Josh away.

“Sounds like it. That sucks.” Josh lifted the glass to his mouth again, a little too quickly this time. The edge rammed into his labret piercing, creating a soft clink that caught him off guard. Disoriented, he fumbled a second time to correct himself. There ya go. If Tyler wasn’t so in his feelings, it would have been much more endearing. Nonetheless, it was certainly entertaining. “What about your dad?” The man asked, having now successfully gulped the drink. “Where is he in all of this?”

“He doesn’t bother me as much, over the phone anyway. But he backs her up every time, so…” Before he continued, Josh let out a dissatisfied hum.

“But yeah, um. I felt a little homesick after all that, n’ I was hoping that working and having my art supplies again would help keep my mind off of it. But it’s been so annoying,” he admitted. “I keep wanting to draw while I’m busy, but the second I have free time, it’s like I literally can’t. Something always happens: I get in my head or she tries to reach out again, and I lose that motivation.” His legs crossed under the table, almost as if embracing himself soothingly. “I don’t care that much, though. I don’t let her words get to me.” A part of him that he refused to acknowledge knew he was lying through his teeth. Clearing his throat, he wished it would dislodge the anxiety climbing its way up into the world. 

“So now I’ve been in this weird funk where I keep procrastinating everything. I usually create things as my sort of outlet, so I don’t know why this has bothered me so much that I can’t even do that anymore. Everything just feels too heavy.” It was weird publicizing those built-up thoughts out loud. Hearing them strung together into something coherent was simultaneously pitiful and relieving. Especially knowing Josh was listening put on an extra layer of intimidation and comfort. Tyler stopped to chug the last drops of his Dr Pepper as if it would mirror the same effect as Josh’s alcohol. 

“I know what you mean. I’m sorry.” Behind his glasses, Josh’s small eyes squinted prominently as if struggling to navigate feelings he couldn’t decipher. “That family stuff sucks. My dad has been pretty nosy over break, too, over this Internship thing they want me to do. All this new change has been kind of a lot, and getting away from it by coming here hasn’t helped much either. Even today—” 

Working up the courage to persist, he nervously pulled a few strands of hair out of his beanie. But shortly after, he undid it by shoving the locks behind his ear anyway. “Even today, merely thinking about it, my heart started racing. I needed to get out of there as fast as I could. After the run wasn’t really helping, I felt like I needed my wine. I didn’t even think too hard about it—hey, wait.” Halting his train of thought, his eyes darted up to the ceiling to listen for a moment. “I like this song.” 

Bemused, Tyler tuned in to hear some Taylor Swift song subtly playing over the speakers. Was it “Delicate”? The poppy track didn’t seem very Josh-esque, but maybe it was the alcohol talking.

Then he continued his story like nothing even happened. “My feet just took me to Walmart, and you know the rest, so I guess that’s what you see here today.” His casual disregard diminished any real bite to his words. But the thought embedded its way into Tyler’s brain anyway: Joshua looked carefree like this, open for the first time he’d ever seen. And that bothered him a little because what did that say about Joshua most of the time?

Before Tyler had time to evaluate, the same bartender from before approached with a fresh Dr Pepper. Smirking, she swapped his empty glass with a free refill, once again leaving the two men alone. Tyler shared a thank you and took a satisfied sip, which brought about an uncharacteristically bubbly laugh from his friend.

“What?” he neatly set down his delicious soda by Joshua’s graveyard of glasses.

The runner across the table shook his head in hiccuping little chuckles. “Dr Pepper...”

“Huh?” Tyler looked between the aforementioned drink and his peer in amused confusion.

“Who the hell goes to a bar and only gets a Dr Pepper?” The now adorably giggling Joshua teased keenly as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Oh, whatever, man. Don’t dog on my doc, Joshu- Josh.” With such a simple quip and another swift correction, Tyler didn’t expect any big reaction. Then Josh swayed. 

Wider-than-usual, his dilated eyes stared him straight in the face, locked on a target. He drunkenly slammed down his glass so hard on the counter that Tyler thought it might shatter. “There! Hey, when did you start doing that?”

Tyler’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. “Doing…?”

“What happened to Joshua?” he interrogated.

Nerves spiking, he jumped to an explanation. “Gosh, I’m so sorry, dude. I was so used to reading your full name from your ID, and then your Instagram handle—I figured that’s what you’d wanna be called. But then I noticed our friends call you Josh, so I’ve been trying to fix it.” He sighed, “I’ve been doing a really crappy job, I know.”

“Nonono, you’re good,” quickly reassured Josh. Like he realized he spoke too fast, he ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s cool. I mean, I don’t want other people calling me that, but I like it when it’s coming from you. I dunno. It’s cute when you say it,” his words wavered like water leaking through the cracks of his usual apprehension.

Heat rose to Tyler’s face before he could stop it. “Oh.” That was all he could manage out loud, but internally, he was screaming. He immediately wanted to melt into the dirty bar floor until he noticed Josh’s cheeks emitting a similar scarlet glow. 

Oh. Wait. Waitwaitwait. Was Josh blushing too?  His brain scrambled, then instantly slammed the brakes. 

Nope. Nope. He’s just drunk. You’re reading into it. You always read too much into it.

Tyler forced a laugh, a little too loud, as if he were the intoxicated one. Trying to calm down, his heartbeat still skipped unnaturally. Maybe he was second-hand drunk. Is this what bars do to people? At the silly thought, Tyler observed exactly how many drinks Josh had gone through. “Geez, you drank almost all of it. You feeling okay?”

Blinking unevenly, Josh rose out of the seat to prove his point, but it only demonstrated his culpability. His grip depended on the edge of the table littered with empty glasses made for two people but drunk by one. “‘M good!” he announced, a little too brightly. When taking a step, he wobbled like his equilibrium was delayed.

Not buying it, Tyler bit the inside of his cheek. “Right… For sure.”

Josh scoffed but couldn’t quite hide the small, abashed grin. “Yes. We don’t have t’make thissa thing.” Already moving closer, Tyler made it a thing. It was probably a smart time to call it quits now anyway. The bar’s noise had settled into a low hush by the time they stood to leave. The rush of earlier hours thinned into a few stragglers nursing beers and cackling softly in booths. 

“Okay, nope. C’mon.” Gently, he slipped an arm around him. The objective of helping his friend stay upright became his priority, opposed to the exhilaration of his hand on his lean waist. At the touch, Josh garbled incoherence but didn’t resist, letting Tyler guide him out of the bar and into the early-January air.

✲

The concept of letting Josh stumble home alone didn’t sit right with Tyler’s conscience. He wanted to be a good guy, but wondered if he was crossing a line. As they staggered down the sidewalk, the wasted man leaned into him a little more than expected. Boy, did Tyler need to start working out again. When they turned the corner, Josh clumsily gestured which street to turn onto, thus beginning the drunkenly babbled list of directions home.

“It might be easier if I order an Uber,” offered Tyler sensibly. Their lack of a full plan on how they’d each get home without a car taunted him in the form of the freezing wind. The excitement of hanging out with Josh overrode his responsibilities, and they now suffered the consequences. 

It took the dizzy guy a good minute for his brain to catch up before responding, “Nah, it would be a waste’a money. Th’walk is only a few minutes, if that’s okay with you?” He clumsily craned his neck up to his chauffeur. 

“That’s fine with me if it’s fine with you.” In response, Josh sagged his head back down in what Tyler assumed was a nod as they continued their path.

Together, they climbed the stairs of the apartment, out of breath. Josh fumbled with the keys before managing to shimmy one through the vertical slot. Still holding onto Tyler, he hobbled through the entrance, the door shortly closing behind them with a soft click.

Above from the second floor came the unmistakable crescendo of paws pattering on hardwood. A golden retriever waltzed down the stairs, welcoming them with a frenetically wagging tail. Planting itself in front of the pair, the dog curiously sniffed at Tyler’s Vans before looking up at him with droopy eyes.

Taking a step back, his shoulders tensed instinctively. His gaze darted to the dog’s teeth that, in his imagination, could easily turn from friendly to terrifying in the blink of an eye. Tyler had figured that once he brought Josh home safe, he’d leave. But there he stood in the clutches of Josh’s hound, being cornered like he was seen as a meal.

Jim—as Tyler recalled—whined low and eagerly, swishing his tail with the force of a windmill. It was apparent that the pet craved attention that Tyler was too cowardly to supply. Trying to play it cool, he carefully reached out a hand. "Uh, hey there…" he attempted, voice upping the octave as Jim’s damp nose familiarized his unsteady index finger. 

Now, dependably leaning on the kitchen counter, Josh ran his unoccupied hand through the shaggy blonde fur without a care in the world. Somehow. “Jim’s a goof. He doesn’t jump or bite,” he reassured, clocking his guest’s fear in one single glare of humored befuddlement. 

"Yeah... I’m sure! I’m chill, totally chillaxed.” Keeping his distance, Tyler’s back remained pinned against the door. The dog wandered off with one gentle final sniff, blissfully unbeknownst to his internal panic. Satisfied with his little greeting, he left Tyler to exhale a long breath.

The apartment was nicer than his own, probably both in terms of higher rent and cleanliness level. It was lived in without being overrun by recipes taped to the kitchen walls and pallets of art supplies overcrowding the surfaces. Instead, the mess—if you could even call it that—was minimal. There were a couple of textbooks strewn over the couch, a pair of sneakers by the door, and a few scripts stacked on the dining table. 

Up the stairs and down the hall, Josh kicked off his shoes and collapsed into bed without a word. His limbs were heavy as he flopped down face-first. “Hey, Tyler.” Sleepy and slurred, his breathing was already evening out. “I didn’t mean’ta… to make you play chaperone tonight.”

Tyler followed him into the doorway, staying propped against the frame. “It was my fault anyway, don’t stress about it.” The hint of a tender smile pulled at his lip. 

There was a beat of silence, then another remark from the occupied sheets. “Were you gonna walk home?”

“Yeah, I’ll probably head out in a second if you’re all good. I’ve got work tomorrow.” Then there was a muffled answer into his pillow, but Tyler couldn’t make out what it was. To better hear him, he gently sat himself on the very edge of the unmade bed, practically falling off. “What’d you say?”

The alcohol-infused man half-propped himself up too fast. Barely sat up against the headboard to face the other, he slapped a palm to his forehead and whined. “Jesus Christ, ’m so fucked up right now. I said, What time?” 

Where was this going?  “Uh, two.”

“I’ll drive you, don’t worry about it.” A lazy arm was outstretched, aiming at the open suitcase full of clothes on the floor. “‘S clean, take whatever you need.”

Tyler blinked, utterly taken aback by the suggestion. In a failed attempt to silence the heartbeat pounding in his ears, he shook his head graciously. It was important to ignore his instinctual enthusiasm and make a rational decision. “Are y- I mean, thanks, but are you sure?” He shot a skeptical look. “Are you gonna feel up to it?”

A throaty groan escaped him as Josh squirmed briefly, eyes threatening to flutter shut. “It’s fine, dude, I’ve got you. Crash on the couch if ya want, Deb keeps a throw blanket down there. N’ I think there’s an extra, like… toothbrush under the sink here.” Next, he pointed towards the bathroom down the hall—if you could even call it a point, the way his wrist went so limp. 

A dangerous gust of winter wind slammed against the window, reminding Tyler of the conditions he would face on a late-night walk home. Grateful, he finally came to terms with the offer. “Thanks, man.”

No more than a half-hazard hum came in response when Josh’s eyes fully closed. His face was framed by dark, tangled locks and a beanie half sliding down the headboard. Even though this felt like his cue to leave the room, Tyler couldn’t help but linger, gaze transfixed on the man ahead of him.

Doubtful about what to do, Tyler’s attention swept over the room to take it all in. Dim light from the entryway cast long shadows over the black furniture. Decorations were scarce for the most part, but a little bit of character was still hidden in the rubble. Alt-rock band memorabilia adorned the space; a couple edgy posters were plastered on the walls, and a collection of CDs occupied their own personal display. A portable player resided on the highest shelf, tangled earphones dangling off the ledge. The old-school Hot Topic emo aesthetic was mostly what Tyler expected, maybe minus the Taylor Swift Reputation CD case staring him down from the nightstand. Oh. Maybe he really did like that song… Huh.

There was no ignoring the elephant in the room, though: it was undeniably in shambles. Piles of dark clothes littered the floor, the trash can was overflowing, and empty dishes were stacked on various surfaces. The worst by far was the empty bottles scattered everywhere like unwanted trophies. Some sat on the bedside table, half-spilling over the edge. Others were on the windowsill and crammed behind the door. It was a depressing sight. Tyler’s mind wandered, theorizing how long it had been this bad. Was this an ongoing thing, or only something he was dealing with since he’d been back? Either way, it should have been more obvious with how often Josh bought wine. Maybe Tyler should have been more concerned.

While scanning the area, something unexpected caught his attention—a surprising contrast to the chaos. Colorful handcrafted art pieces hid like easter eggs amongst the black furnishings, each different but showing some real talent. On the bookshelf lived a small treasure chest etched with intricate intertwining flora and abstract forms; those little hand-carved details seemed straight out of a whimsical garden. Nearby, there was a ceramic pencil holder crafted like a red apple core. It was intricately molded in the kind of technique that Tyler could tell came from real ability. Painted in the corner was an undeniable signature spelling “J Dun”. His heart lifted at the sight of it, as odd as it was. This was the kind of art Tyler wished he could produce if he had the skill.

In the far corner, a lamp caught his eye. It had a complex design, with a base born from twisted metal. The piece’s structure bent around itself in a gravity-defying, organic shape, mimicking a beaming spaceship flying up top where the bulb sat. It was clever and beautiful in its own unique style. Tyler was taken aback. Where had this come from? Josh had never shared his work when Tyler talked about his own art.

“Hey, hang on! You didn’t tell me you–” He wanted to ask Josh about it, to uncover where this talent came from. That was until, turning back around, he paused abruptly. Body fully relaxed, and his extended arm fallen dead to the side, Josh lay completely knocked out. The soft sound of his breathing was the only thing breaking the silence between them.

Josh seemed so... put-together on the outside, quiet and mysterious with his perfect hair and studious business talk. But this? This was a different side, head hung forward with terrible posture, unkept, passed out drunk. And it made Tyler’s heart sink. 

Spotting a half-full Gatorade and a bottle of ibuprofen on the floor, Tyler moved them over to the nightstand for easy access. For a more comfortable rest, he pulled off Joshua’s glasses with a feather-light touch. He hoped he wasn’t being too intrusive, but Joshua’s neck was also curled forward in a position that looked like it’d be painful in the morning. Ever so carefully, he cradled his head and shimmied his shoulders lower. Moving from a half-sitting position, the conked-out man now slept fully lying down, resting on his side. That's how you’re supposed to lie in case you throw up, right? Tyler thought he heard that somewhere, probably on TV. 

At first, Joshua mumbled at the movement, though he hardly stirred. Still, Tyler’s nerves were going haywire, quickly retreating to his very corner of the bed. His hand brushed over the silky, untucked black sheets while looking over the heap of wine bottles and art throughout the room. 

He could leave. Just go home, forget about the mess, pretending he didn’t see anything incriminating. But his heart couldn’t leave Joshua alone in this state, not after everything they shared tonight. Not when it was so clear he was struggling, and Tyler was, well, already here.

Though it wasn’t with any great sense of confidence, he made up his mind. Actually, the decision came at a great time because Jim marched in and hopped onto his owner’s bed. Quickly backing away, Tyler grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the open suitcase and got the heck out of there. Joshua obviously wouldn’t be waking up any time soon, yet Tyler tiptoed around the unit and changed into the PJs in the bathroom out of courtesy. They were way nicer than any Walmart brand he was used to, edgy and dark on the outside but soft on the inside, much like its owner. Overcome with elation, he handled them with the utmost care, plus he wasn’t about to sleep in his jeans. Finally, he settled into the living room couch with light feet, pulling the blanket tight now.

Tyler couldn’t help the giddy feeling that bubbled up in his chest as he curled up on Joshua’s couch. He was on Joshua Dun’s couch in Joshua Dun’s sweats!? Although the excitement was still there, a painful reminder of his and Joshua’s shared troubles stung like a terrible dream.

Moonlight shone from the cracked-open door down the hall, summoning Tyler’s attention to the bedroom like a cry for help. The art. The mess. The wine bottles. Was it all to cope with the pressure from his parents? Or school? Or maybe it wasn’t about coping at all. Maybe it was about pushing everything down, letting the alcohol and chaos fill the spaces where real support was needed. Whatever this cycle of torment was, it didn’t seem healthy at all. Tyler felt a strange pull in his chest as he tried to ignore the nagging worry. For now, he would just stay here. Not out of obligation, but to make sure the person he cared about was okay. He wanted to be that tough-to-find good company during both the mournful night’s end and the rising sun’s aftermath.