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Keith had never been the most… popular person.
Scratch that. He was probably one of the least popular people in… literally everywhere.
He’d always been that antisocial, looser orphan that no one knew, and no one liked. The kid with no friends, always blowing up at everyone and everything.
He wasn’t like those kids who could start talking to anyone and they’d just instantly click . Usually, Keith would scare the other person away before they could even start a conversation.
So, yeah. Keith wasn’t very popular. He was the emo kid with no friends, no social life — the whole shebang.
Even his natural flying skills and smarts hadn’t helped very much. When he’d first arrived at the Garrison, everyone wanted to know about that child prodigy that the Takashi Shirogane had picked up. There had been people coming up to talk to Keith 24/7, left right and center, chatting to him like they’d known him for his entire life or trying to find out what was so remarkable about some orphan from who-knows-where.
But that didn’t matter. He’d scared them all off by the end of the week.
Well, almost all of them. There was this one cute Cuban boy who’d been insistent on trying to become friends with him, though for the life of him Keith could not think of a reason why. He was one of those people — the effortlessly popular extroverts, who seemed to be able to become friends with anyone.
Maybe he was just upset that he hadn’t been able to charm Keith the way he seemed to charm everyone else, but Keith doubted it — the look in his eyes was one of genuine kindness, not of annoyance, like he’d seen in many people, or of someone trying to fix a particularly complicated problem.
Regardless, seeing the boy — Taylor, he remembered (and Shiro said he was bad with names!) — had, embarrassingly enough, become the highlight of Keith’s day. I wasn’t as if reciprocated Taylor’s gestures — the waves, hellos, and requests to sit with him during break were all met with a blank look at best (or what Keith hoped was a blank look, not a glare or, even worse, a flustered look), complete ignorance at worst.
But even though the two had never had an actual conversation, and Taylor probably thought Keith hated him, Keith hadn’t been able to help but get a teensy , tiny , itty-bitty crush on the other boy.
Okay, not tiny. Quite large, in fact. Shiro — and, by extension, Adam — had heard about “that cute Cuban boy Taylor” in detail, to the point where one day, Adam had very nearly started searching for him in the school’s student register before Keith frantically stopped him, fearing — for good reason — that Shiro and Adam would try to talk to Taylor, or even try and get Keith to talk to Taylor; he wasn’t sure which was worse.
Not to say Keith wasn’t curious himself. He knew nothing about Taylor, other than his name and… pretty much nothing else. No matter how long he searched, he could find nothing on the boy. And although Keith wasn’t exactly up to date with all the gossip — he usually ended up finding out about things a couple months too late — he was sure he should’ve found something out by now.
But that didn’t matter any more, did it? ‘Cause finally, Taylor stopped waving in the corridors and saying goodbye after class, and became just another person who’d glare at him as he passed, talk about him behind his back as if he couldn’t hear them loud and clear.
It was probably for the best that he’d stopped. It was going to happen eventually, so it was better sooner rather than later, before he’d finally cracked and gone up to him. Before they’d actually become friends.
Plus, Taylor shared an uncanny resemblance to some kid in his class — one with some stupid name like Spear , because seriously who named their kid Spear ? Why not a nice, pretty name, like Taylor? Anyway, “Spear” totally hated his guts. Despised him with a passion. And they looked so similar, they had to be brothers, at least, or, God forbid, twins . Poor Taylor.
Even though he knew that, Keith found himself upset. Because he’d felt a bit of hope that some day, they’d finally be friends. And although he’d said that Taylor had become just another face in the crowd, that… wasn’t true. He still looked for him in the corridors, hoping futilely, foolishly, that they would go back to the routine they had before. Still thought about him at night, part of him just remembering his voice, his face, his smile, the other part thinking about how jeez, those two look really similar .
He never told Shiro or Adam, but he suspected they knew something was up by the look on his face when they brought up “your Tay boy”, his avoidance of conversations about him, the way their questions about him slowed and stopped. He also never told them about Taylor’s supposed twin brother. Not like it was a very big deal, the way Keith got more attention from Taylor’s rude, annoying twin than Taylor himself.
(Okay, so maybe Keith was a bit upset about that. Sue him! It’s so unfair, as childish as it seems to be complaining about what’s fair or not.)
But eventually, that just became another unfortunate part of the trainwreck chain of events that was his life. And with everything that happened with the Kerberos mission (and his expulsion, though Keith didn’t care about that nearly as much), Taylor just became another bruise — still painful, but unimportant and miniscule compared to the gaping hole in his chest that was Shiro’s “death”.
However he couldn’t help it when his heart skipped a bit as, while he was rescuing Shiro — who wasn’t dead, he knew it, and the Garrison had been trying to hide it — a Cuban boy his age ran through the door. Two others followed him, but Keith didn’t spare them a glance as the boy ran over, calling out something about how he would be the one who rescued Shiro.
Calm down, Keith , he told himself, it could very well be Taylor-but-worse .
(He’d taken to calling Taylor’s “twin brother”, Javelin or whatever, Taylor-but-worse.)
So instead of calling out Taylor, like some love-struck idiot, (which he wasn’t), he’d frowned. “Who are you?”
By the offended look on maybe-Taylor’s face, he’d pulled it off. “Who am I? Uh, the name’s Lance.”
Ah. So it’s Lance, not Spear or Javelin or Taylor-but-worse. Still dumb, though. It’s obvious who the favourite was , Keith thought to himself, though he really didn’t care much what the asshole was called. He felt a pang of disappointment, though he scolded himself for it. Even if it had been Taylor, the guy probably didn’t even remember.
Oh. He’s talking again. Great .
“We were in the same class at the Garrison!” Lance (ugh) exclaimed, and Keith couldn’t help but say—
“Really? Are you an engineer?”
The look on his face was priceless .
——————
Lance had never been the… smartest person.
In fact, according to some people, he was very much dumb .
It wasn’t just the brainy stuff like math or science, either. In fact, he failed at pretty much everything that wasn’t social.
At first, he hadn’t thought so — after all, no one is born thinking they’re a failure, and his mamá had always told him he was wonderful, and his papá too. But soon enough, he’d joined school, and certain people, both students and teachers, had made it clear they did not think he was smart. Well, they probably didn’t mean to make it clear, but apparently Lance had an ‘eye’ for that stuff, whatever that meant — certainly didn’t help him do better in school.
And so, he’d been labeled as dumb. Maybe it was that he joked too much, was too silly. Maybe it was because he was just some boy from Cuba .
(He’d heard that one from a classmate in elementary school, when he’d received some generic award they gave kids for pretty much anything. It was just some kid parroting back what they’d heard from their parents or someone else, and they certainly didn’t remember it by now, didn’t remember him , but it had stuck with Lance.
One time, he’d muttered near his older sister, who was trying to explain some sort of extension work for math that Lance, of course, couldn’t understand. Veronica had rushed to correct him, to tell him he wasn’t “just some kid” and that being from Cuba wasn’t something bad. He never uttered the phrase again in front of his family, or anyone else he knew for good measure.
That didn’t stop him from thinking it.)
So when Lance got into the Garrison, he’d been overjoyed. It had always been his dream to fly into space like his older brother Adam, who also went there, and Takashi Shirogane — the best pilot of his generation, Lance’s idol, and also, somehow, Adam’s boyfriend. Lance had worked his butt off to get in, but he never thought he could make it; the Galaxy Garrison was for prodigies, the next generation of geniuses who would change the world. It was only thanks to his family’s constant encouragement that Lance had actually applied, instead of quitting part way through due to anxiety like he almost had several times.
But he got in, somehow. And even though the struggle wasn’t nearly over, even though the work would likely be hell to do, the classes impossible, the other students a hundred times smarter than him— Lance still felt a flicker of hope. And that spark only grew as he prepared to leave for the Garrison. Even his sadness over being so far from his family for the first time ever couldn’t make it die out, and by the time he was standing in front of the Galaxy Garrison, it was a fire, burning bright, strong and blinding.
He turned on his charm, tried to tone down the craziness — he couldn’t afford to make people think he was weird or annoying, not right off the bat. Luckily his roommate, “Hunk” (Lance was sure that couldn’t be his actual name. Maybe it was just a nickname, but regardless, he didn’t want to pry), was incredibly nice, and the two hit it off immediately. Although it probably didn’t seem like it to many people, Hunk was a genius, like most people at the Garrison (at some point, they’d been talking about their interests, and Hunk had gone on this long, smart-sounding engineering tangent, losing Lance almost immediately). Unlike some people, though, Hunk didn’t insist on showing off all the time, which was nice.
However, there was one other person who had caught his attention. On the first day, Lance had heard from some of the older students talking about “Shirogane’s new project”, and had instantly wanted to hear more. A new project? Lance hadn’t seen anything on the news, or from Adam, and by the tone of the students’ voices, this was something big enough to catch several people’s interests. Maybe it was confidential? But then how would some students know about this? Did they hear it from one of the teachers or something?
“I’ve heard some stuff, yeah. Not much, though. Care to share?” one asked.
“ Well ,” the other student began, conspiratory tone to their voice. “According to Jamie, some kid ended up catching Shirogane’s eye. The Garrison higher ups didn’t want to let him in due to some discipline issues, but Shirogane convinced them.”
“Seriously?” the first student questioned, disbelieving. “But he’s never done anything like that! What’s so special about this kid that made Shirogane finally pull some strings with the Garrison?”
“He’s some kinda prodigy, or whatever. I don’t get why that’s a big deal, considering we’ve got more than enough of those little geniuses here already. Kid’s an orphan, apparently — maybe he pitied the poor thing. Kogane, or whatever it was.”
The students walked off, still discussing the new student, but Lance made no move to follow, his mind full of thoughts. Who was this Kogane kid? What made him so special? Was he really that good? Probably, considering Shirogane had apparently taken so much interest in him.
He got the answer to his first question soon enough, though, in the form of the cute emo boy who sat in front of him in class — Keith Kogane. And he got the answer to his second question when they first tried the simulator, and Keith left them all with their mouths hanging so wide open they were catching flies.
So, yeah. Turns out “prodigy” is an understatement.
Now, obviously, Lance is interested. Not only because the kid’s a genius, though he has to admit that he, like everyone else, is a bit more than a tad curious, but also because Keith looks… lonely. And yeah, maybe he is a bit of a bleeding heart, because the guy can be kind of an asshole and it’s not like he’s been trying the hardest to make friends and endear himself to people, but some people find that difficult and Lance doesn’t want to leave someone alone when they clearly need a friend.
That’s not that Keith didn’t have many options, albeit not very good ones. He’d been showered with attention for the past week, everyone coming up to him with comments and questions, and Keith had scared them all away eventually with his glares, scowls, and monosyllabic or even non-existent responses.
And as much as Lance wanted to go up to him, he also didn’t want Keith to group him with everyone else, see him as just another person who wanted to know about “Shirogane’s new project” — although at first that phrase had made him curious, now it just made him upset at all the students and even staff who saw Keith just as the orphan Shiro had taken an interest in, instead of a living, breathing, feeling person.
So he started off small. The first time he waved or said hello to Keith, he went ignored. And the second time. And the third time. And… literally every other time. But he was never met with a scowl, so he continued. Most of the time, Keith just went on with his life, ignoring Lance. The first couple times, he’d looked at him in surprise, but he soon became accustomed to it, although Lance could swear he’d seen him smile or even blush slightly sometimes (blush! He’d quiznacking blushed ), and he’d felt Keith’s gaze on him several times while he wasn’t looking, like he was trying to figure out Lance’s intentions just by staring.
So they — or, well, Lance — gained a new routine. And although he couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed by Keith’s lack of response, even as more time passed by, he continued to smile and wave and greet him, even though he knew he would get nothing in return.
That is, until people started to talk.
Well, people always talked, and although Keith’s “popularity” had decreased over time, Lance still heard the name relatively often from the people gossiping nearby.
But this time, Lance had listened. He didn’t usually like to listen to the gossip about Keith, especially since, after he’d scared away every student in the school, most of it was negative, jealous gossip. Or it was people gushing about their crushes on Keith to their friends, which wasn’t much better as hearing them talk about Keith’s looks and his skills and how his broody-ness just made him even hotter caused Lance’s stomach to turn and made him feel a way that he was not going to explore at that moment.
However, this time, it caught his attention. Because they weren’t just talking about Keith — they were talking about him too.
“Did you see how Lance always waves at Keith? Poor thing,” someone — one of his classmates — said, pityingly.
“Yeah,” another person — James Griffin , he recognised — snickered, “Kogane’s probably laughing at him behind his back. I mean, he really doesn’t know how to call it quits.”
“I feel kinda bad for him, though. He’s a bit… desperate,” the same person as before explained.
“Yeah, desperate for attention ,” someone else taunted. “Like he always is, of course. More pathetic than anything.”
Lance felt the words like a stab to his heart. He knew he could come off strongly sometimes, that he seemed over-eager and a tad too determined to make friends. He’d always thought it was a good thing, how he wouldn’t give up on anyone, but now…
He was unable to ruminate about it for long, however, because at that moment the bell signalling the start of the next class rang, snapping him out of his thoughts.
The group of kids was long gone by the time he darted around the corner, dashing through the corridors in an attempt to get to his lesson on time. He could not afford to upset Mr. Iverson again — not after yesterday’s… incident . The guy already hated him, and Lance didn’t need to give him another reason. The conversation Lance had overheard had delayed him greatly, and now he had to rush to get to his classroom, which was found on the other side of the school.
During his panic to get to class he’d been unable to spot Keith anywhere. Maybe he was already in class, or maybe Lance had been in too much of a hurry to see him. Whatever it was, Lance was… conflicted. On one hand, part of him was sad, because over time him and Keith had formed their own weird version of friendship. Or at least, that’s what Lance had thought , because on the other hand…
“Did you see how Lance always waves at Keith? Poor thing.”
“Kogane’s probably laughing at him behind his back.”
“He’s a bit… desperate.”
On the other hand, he really didn’t want to see Keith right now.
But he knew that, eventually, they’d cross each other’s paths again. He’d prepared himself for it, but that didn’t stop Lance from freezing for a moment when he caught sight of Keith, blocking the hallway before an annoyed student shoved past him, effectively snapping him out of his brief daze.
Instead of passing by Keith and offering a small wave and hello, he tried to blend into the rest of the students and pass by unnoticed. But Lance knew he’d failed as he fled the crowded hallway, feeling a pair of familiar eyes burning into the back of his head, tracking his every movement as he left without looking back.
So from that moment on, he proclaimed Keith as his rival. He constantly competed with him in the classroom, never passing the opportunity to make a jab or attempt to one-up him. But outside of that, he never acknowledged him. Not in the cafeteria, not in the dorm rooms, and certainly not in the corridors, where it would seem a little too much like what they once had.
Lance knew he was overdoing it, knew the “desperate” rumours were picking back up again, but he just didn’t know what else to do . He’d always been too much, too loud, too extreme, too eager, too desperate , and he’d tried hopelessly to tone it down, make himself more manageable, because he knew it was a lot for most people to handle, but no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, it was just never enough .
He could never beat the rumours. Not when they were true. So he decided, screw it . If he was going to fail either way, why try at all? Why not just… give up?
It wasn’t all because of Keith. This had been building up for a long time. From the moment he was labeled as too much , maybe, or perhaps the moment someone told him to calm down , and never stopped. Regardless, this had just been the final straw. The little nudge that sent a whole life’s worth of problems spilling overboard, finally becoming — like Lance himself — too much.
He’d expected to carry his memories of Keith with him for the rest of his life. He hadn’t expected to interact with him again, though. Not after his expulsion.
He didn’t know what possessed him to follow Keith. He should’ve just ignored him, followed along with Hunk’s plan instead. But yet he raced down the hill regardless, making what he knew was the worst mistake of his life — and Lance had made a lot of dumb mistakes.
But here he was, standing in front of Keith once again, with no idea what he’s doing.
It’ll be fine, Lance. Just be normal, save Shiro, leave, and you’ll never have to face Keith again. Be natural. You don’t know this guy. You definitely don’t think about him all the time. You couldn’t care less about him…
“Nope. No, you— no, no, no. No, you don’t. I’m saving Shiro.”
Not like that , you dumbass. He’s gonna think you’re even more of an idiot—
“Who are you?”
Keith hadn’t lifted a finger against him, but Lance felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He’d known Keith wouldn’t remember him, probably hadn’t even thought about Lance once since he’d been gone, but it still stung nonetheless.
“Who am I? Uh, the name’s Lance,” he said, slightly awkwardly. “We were in the same class at the Garrison!”
He didn’t know if he was hoping for Keith to remember him or remain ignorant, but Keith’s next words hurt regardless.
“Really? Are you an engineer?”
And if he really thought that? Well, Lance was going to prove him wrong .
——————
“Hey, Lance?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you, by chance, have a brother called Taylor?”
“Uh, not that I know of. Why?”
“It’s— There was this kid at the Garrison that looked like you — I thought you were twins, actually — who’d always wave at me and stuff, and I guess I just wanted to see if… nevermind. It’s nothing. Just forget it.”
“He always waved at you? And say hello in the corridors?”
“Yeah— how did you—”
“Keith”
“Yes?”
“Do you know what they call me?”
“…No?”
“They call me ‘the Taylor’, ‘cause of how I thread the needle.”
“…You’re quiznacking kidding me.”
“You’re a dumbass, Keith. My dumbass, but still a dumbass.”
“And I was so proud of remembering your name, too!”