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Arvid had always been comfortable with motion. Craved it, even.
While, yes, the clean execution of a kickflip or the screeching grind of trucks against guardrails were sensational, it went far beyond that. Movement meant something was happening. Time moved forward, people grew and everything changed, even the most microscopic amounts. It signified direction and momentum wrapped up in so much possibility that it raised the bumps on your skin and got your heart pumping. Stillness, on the other hand, left him with thoughts that were simply too loud to hold in.
That’s probably why he ended up behind a camera, filming videos for his best friend’s band.
“Arvid, you good down there?” Liam called from the front of the stage, voice echoing through the empty venue.
Arvid adjusted his lens from his crouched position on a platform below the stage. “Yeah, do that one more time. Jump on the second chorus. It’ll look banging.”
The lead guitarist paused, cocking his head back. “You just want me to embarrass myself,” Liam grinned.
“You already do that on the regular,” Franco muttered, tuning his guitar and adjusting the positions of his pedals.
“Hey! I’ve got a reputation,” Liam shot back.
“Uh, yeah,” Gabriel interjects from behind his keyboard, deadpan. “A bad one.”
Isack struck his kick drum twice. “Can we please get this take done before we all die of old age?” His tone indicative of his patience being worn thin.
Arvid snorted softly, peering at Liam’s figure through the viewfinder. A familiar atmosphere. Comfortable. The rhythm of their banter was as consistent as the beat their drummer laid down as they started up again.
Music flooded the room, ear-ringingly raw as it bounced off of the scuffed walls adorned with posters of bands that had presumably played there before. Liam’s voice cut through the noise with his signature emotional rasp and just enough imperfection to remind Arvid that they were doing something real here. Something substantial. Something that mattered.
Arvid tracked him with the camera, adjusting instinctively. He followed Liam’s movements as easily as he went through the motions of a pop shove-it on his board. He knew when the singer would lean into the mic, when he’d step back, and when he would jump.
The climax of the second chorus approached, prefaced by Franco and Gabriel’s paralleling riffs. And Liam leapt. The money shot.
Arvid smiled to himself as he continued to film the guys performing the rest of that section. This is what he loved. Capturing something fleeting and making it last forever. There wasn’t much else better than that.
Not long after, they ended up sprawled across the mismatched couches of the green room, the post-rehearsal exhaustion settling in.
Franco stretched back on the leather couch, head strewn back as he propped up the mate in his hand with one knee. Sat criss-cross to the caffeinated backup vocalist’s right was Gabriel scrolling through TikToks that Arvid could just barely hear. Isack lay flat on the floor like a corpse, with his eyes shut and hands dead at his sides, apart from the subtle drumming of his fingertips.
Liam dropped down beside his best friend, close enough that their shoulders bumped. “You got the shot, right?”
“Yeah,” Arvid replied. “You actually managed to not eat shit, well done.”
Liam playfully shoved him with his elbow and Arvid responded accordingly with a nudge of his own. A reaction that came effortlessly from years of being attached at the hip.
“Show me later?”
“Obviously,” the photographer retorts with a roll of his eyes. The room stills for a moment, quiet except for the faint noise emanating from Gabriel’s phone. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. It felt nice—felt complete.
Then Franco, because he just couldn’t help himself, perked up with a glint in his eye accompanied by the exaggerated curve of his eyebrow, “Remember when Liam did eat shit on stage?”
“Oh my god,” Gabriel shut off his phone at lightspeed to offer his full attention to the blossoming conversation.
“Nuh-uh, not another word out of you, Gabi. We are not doing this again—“ Liam started.
“College show,” Isack chimed in from the floor, eyes still closed while waving his hand in the air loosely. “Tripped over your own cable.”
“I was sabotaged!”
“Ehh… you were drunk,” Franco corrected.
Arvid laughed at that, the memory still vivid. “You took the mic stand down with you. I think my ears still ring from the feedback.”
Liam groaned, “I hate all of you.”
“Not true,” Gabriel said. “You looooove us. Especially Isack,” the keyboardist added teasingly.
Something in the way Franco smirked and Isack’s lack of response made Arvid glance between them, and then to the man next to him. Liam didn’t laugh, not right away, at least. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Shut up,” the blond laughed unconvincingly.
Franco raised that knowing eyebrow of his. “What? It’s not exactly a secret, boludo.”
Arvid felt the room shift in his bones. As if the entire room had rotated 90°, yet none of them had moved a millimeter. He sat up slightly. “What’s not a secret?”
The room paused again, but not like before. There was hesitation. An awkwardness that oozed out of the man he shared a couch with.
Liam finally spoke up, “Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Arvid frowned. “You lot are being mad weird.”
Gabriel looked between them, returning his attention to his previously ignored phone. Isack still had yet to move an inch from his spot on the patterned rug.
Franco shrugged, his signature drink sloshing around. “Liam and Isack used to hook up.” He offered with a tone that suggested he believed this was something Arvid already knew. Through the corner of his eye, Arvid witnessed Gabi grimace at the remark.
The room had now completed its rotation and spun Arvid another 270° to Mindfuckville. “What?” Arvid blinked.
Liam groaned again, louder this time around. “Franco—“
“What? It was like four years ago,” Franco replied unabashedly.
“Five,” Isack amended, unmoving.
The rectification somehow only made him feel worse. His brain tried—failed—to catch up. “You…” he turned to Liam. “You and Isack?”
Liam avoided his gaze, “It was nothing serious.”
“Situationship,” Gabriel dragged out the word without looking away from his phone.
“Enough.” Liam bit.
But the word had already left Gabi’s mouth and crawled its way into Arvid’s throat to choke him from the inside. He spared a glance towards Isack, who finally opened his eyes.
“Calm down, bro. It’s not a big deal.”
Apparently, it wasn’t. Everyone else seemed fine with it, or as fine as they could be when talking about your friends hooking up with each other. But that supposedly normal, old news manifested into a sharp pain that prodded at his chest and left him drowning in his thoughts.
It doesn’t matter.
Or at least, that’s what Arvid kept trying to tell himself as he lay in bed later that night, staring at the intricate array of overlapping posters on his ceiling.
It shouldn’t have mattered. Liam had a past, obviously. Arvid wasn’t an idiot. Liam hooked up with plenty of people back in university and he hadn’t thought anything of it before. He was aware of that, consciously or otherwise.
And Isack… Isack was cool. Easygoing and funny in a dry, matter-of-fact way. He had no issue with the guy. So why was he awake, unable to stop thinking about him? Arvid whipped onto his side in frustration, eyes squeezed shut as he pressed his face further into the pillow.
The feeling sat just beneath the surface of his skin, fostering a restlessness that he needed to shake out. He needed to move. To do something, but there wasn’t anything for him to do. Arvid let his eyes fall open once again. Gaze settled on the trusty skateboard he’d named Aperture, propped up in the corner where his nightstand met the wall. His eyes traced the intersecting shapes formed by the multitude of stickers adorning his board. The path he bore—seemingly random and formless—eventually materialized into an incessant weight on his tongue that strangely resembled the word jealousy.
He squeezed his eyes shut in recoil. Nah. That can’t be it.
The following few days felt… off. Not in a way anyone else seemed to notice, but Arvid sure as hell did.
He picked up on the ways Liam and Isack interacted. Small things. Miniscule things that he definitely wouldn’t have thought twice about last week.
A shared look. A joke that didn’t need explaining paired with a smile that sent the other into a fit of laughter. The way Liam casually slung an arm over the drummer’s shoulders when they brainstormed lyrics together.
Arvid noticed countless times that were likely nothing. They were nothing. It was just him looking way too deeply into moments he shouldn’t need to worry about. It was just that—
Arvid completely missed a key shot.
“Bro,” Liam brought Arvid back to reality with a single word. “You good?”
He paused, lowering his camera. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Run that again?”
The lead guitarist studied him for a second before conceding. He nodded towards Isack, signaling for him to count the band in for their next take. The sound of cracking drumsticks picked the energy back up and Arvid refocused, not too dissimilar to the camera in his unsure hands. The shared glance between the two musicians still looming in the back of his mind.
It got worse.
They went out the night after a strong gig. The bar was packed, loud and buzzing with leftover energy from their performance less than two hours ago.
Arvid couldn’t bring himself to drink more than the single, half-empty Long Island he’d been nursing since they arrived. But Liam had no issue drinking more than his best friend, not excessively, though. Just enough to loosen up and flash that stupidly infectious grin of his that left people at ease.
Arvid had always appreciated his uneven smile but not quite realized just to what extent.
The five of them were crowded around a table, talking over each other, cracking jokes, singing along to whatever the DJ had playing. Isack muttered something directly into Liam’s ear in order to bypass the sea of noise flooding the bar and Liam laughed, hard. Head thrown back, eyes crinkling so much that tears welled up in the corners. Then, as if without thinking, Liam reached out with his hand that glistened with the condensation from his beer. He grabbed Isack’s wrist, like he needed to hold onto something or he’d lose himself.
It was easy and fleeting and casual, yet it burned Arvid more than any slam he’d taken straight into the concrete. His chair scraped horridly against the sticky floor as he suddenly shot up out of his seat, catching the attention of all four band mates.
“I’ve gotta, uh, I need some air.”
Gabriel and Liam shared a concerned glance but didn’t make a move to stop Arvid before he stumbled his way through the crowd.
He paced back and forth on the sidewalk, catching curious looks from the peripherals of the smokers inhabiting the curb. Arvid huffed as he shoved his hands into his pockets to protect them from the frigid night, breath visible in the air.
“Alright,” he whispered to himself. “Okay. Think.”
He’d known Liam for years at this point. Four to be exact. They’d lived in the same shitty student housing, survived grueling study hours, shared midnight takeout, stupid inside jokes, and long conversations about nothing and everything. He was his best friend, and that hadn’t changed. So, what changed?
He stopped pacing. Arvid swore he could smell burnt rubber from how intensely he was digging his toe into the pavement, attempting and failing to put out the fire that’d started deep within his chest. The thought of Liam being with someone else burned his insides like whiskey on the worst night of your life. But it wasn’t just someone else, it was Isack—someone constant.
Arvid scrubbed a hand over his face. “No,” he tried to convince himself. Yet his mind betrayed him and the thought persisted through the denial. It was clear and unavoidable and he had to face it with cold cheeks under lights that hurt his eyes.
He liked Liam. Well, of course, he liked Liam. Not just as his best friend, but so much more in a way that terrified him. Arvid let out a huff in disbelief, this feeling he’d been running away from materializing in his frigid breath and biting his tongue.
Great. Just fucking perfect.
Avoidance worked, at least for a little while.
Arvid tried to throw himself headfirst into his work. Editing footage, planning shots, anything that kept him busy and, more importantly, distracted. He told himself it would pass, that it was only temporary. Except he didn’t even believe in that. This felt like something that’d been festering and developing for years now. Something that quietly bubbled beneath until it had nowhere else to go and breached the surface.
Now that he was aware, he couldn’t unsee it wherever he looked. Every little moment meant so much more. Each look, every laugh, any casual touch. It was absolutely exhausting.
“Okay,” Liam spoke one afternoon, occupying the studio chair next to him. “You’ve been weird.”
Arvid did not look up from his laptop where he was editing, or rather, pretending to. “What are you on about?”
“Something’s going on with you,” Liam insisted. “You missed, like, three good shots this past week. That never happens.”
“I told you I was tired.”
“You’re always tired.”
“Gee, thanks. You’re too kind, Liam,” he chuckled sarcastically.
Liam nudged him with his shoulder, halting Arvid’s attempt at subversion by way of making his friend laugh. “I’m serious, Arv. What’s up?”
Arvid’s fingers stilled on his keyboard. He could lie. He probably should, but he could see Liam staring at him through the corner of his eye, waiting. And he’d never been particularly good at lying to him either.
“It’s nothing.” Arvid tried to swallow it down as if his stomach acid would transform it into the truth. But Liam didn’t buy that. It was obvious.
“Arvid.”
God. He hated this.
“Just—“ Arvid closed his laptop, exhaling sharply. “Just drop it, okay?” He finally turned to face the other man.
Liam leaned back at the interjection. His gaze travelled from Arvid’s left eye to his right, flickering between the two in search of an answer. One he couldn’t seem to find.
“Did I do something?” the blond asked quietly.
That hit differently. Arvid looked at him then, really looked. Liam seemed concerned? Maybe confused or scared? Maybe all three, or some new horrible feeling Arvid is making him invent with how insanely he’s acting. Liam didn’t understand, and that made sense. Because he didn’t know, Arvid himself had only just realized recently.
“Not exactly,” he eventually admitted.
“Come again?"
Arvid ran a hand through his hair with a deep inhale. This was stupid. He felt stupid. The air between them had gotten strange and he was only making it worse.
”Look, I just need a little time, alright?”
”For…” Liam dragged out, awaiting a clearer answer.
”To figure my shit out.”
“Mate, come on. You know you can talk to me straight. You don’t have to beat around the bush.”
Arvid hesitated. This was it. Teetering on a razor’s edge, the precipice of something terrifying. He could so easily retreat and fall back into something safe, something known. Keep things the way they were. Arvid knew that was pointless. Nothing was ever going back to how it was. He’d recognized feelings that could no longer be swept away or buried in energy drinks and band stickers.
He swallowed the spit building up in his mouth. “Do you and Isack… is something still going on there?”
“No,” he spoke definitively with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand. “That ended a long time ago.”
”Completely?”
“Yeah, dude. Why?”
Arvid nodded slowly. That made him feel a tad better.
“Arvid,” Liam’s voice stealing his attention away from that spot in the carpet. “What is this about?”
He let out a strained laugh. “You’re really not gonna let this go, huh?"
“Nope.”
”Great.” He rubbed his hands over his face, buying himself any second he could. Then, he dropped them and turned his entire body to face his best friend. “I think I’m jealous.”
Liam blinked. Once and then another. “Of me?”
“No, I’m jealous… of Isack.”
”Why?” Liam held eye contact.
There it is. Another weight lifted, but the show was far from over. A question so seemingly simple, yet it petrified him. His heart pounded in his throat and Arvid swore it was cutting off the air to his lungs. A cliff with God knows what at the bottom crumbled beneath his restless sneakers. The money shot. And Arvid leapt.
“Because I think I like you.”
Silence filled the room. Real, true silence, apart from the blood pumping in Arvid’s face. He couldn’t tell if Liam heard it, too. He didn’t move, or say anything. Liam just stared at him. Could he please do anything other than just stare at him?
Arvid felt as if he stood upon the edge of a ramp. In a park he’d never been to, on a board he’d never used, and about to drop in, unsure if he’d land it or twist his ankle and break his nose.
“Alright,” Liam said slowly.
Alright. Alright? What the fuck is alright? Nothing is alright about this.
Arvid let out a shaky laugh in panic. “Well, that’s not a great sign.”
”No, I just—“ Liam put his hands up in placation. “I didn’t expect that.”
”Yeah, me neither.” Another pause between them.
Thankfully, Liam spoke up again, “How long?”
“I’m not exactly sure. Subconsciously, probably a good while. I only realized just recently, when I found out about you and Isack. Something finally clicked, I guess.”
He nodded, processing. “And you’ve just been dealing with this on your own?
“Trying to.”
“Badly,” Liam added.
”Yeah.”
That managed to put a smile on Liam’s face. And witnessing it almost got Arvid to smile back. Almost.
”So, you like me.”
”Yes.”
“Were you ever gonna tell me?"
”I was kind of hoping it would go away,” Arvid paused. “It did not.”
Something shifted in Liam's expression then. “Alright,” he repeated, but it sounded completely different this time. Less surprised, more thoughtful. They both sat there, the weight of the confession settling somewhere between their knees. Liam leaned forward slightly, but the silence persisted. Arvid’s heart rate began to pick back up and he started to scratch at the seam of his jeans.
Liam noticed immediately, “You’re probably waiting for me to say something.”
”It would be helpful, yeah.”
He smiled again. “Right.”
Liam leaned back in thought and Arvid tried not to spiral. He couldn’t help but make note of the way he bit his lower lip. So much for not spiraling.
“Listen, I don’t know what this is yet. I mean, you’re my best friend. That hasn’t changed. But this—“ Liam gestured between the two of them, and a knot formed in Arvid’s stomach. “This is new, at least consciously.”
Arvid nodded, “That’s totally fair.”
”But I don’t hate it.”
“What?" Arvid blinked. “You don’t?”
Liam shook his head. “No… I just need a second to catch up, I think. You’ve gotten a bit of a head start on me in all this,” he spoke with a faint smile that showed off his crooked teeth.
This was more than anything Arvid could have hoped for. The fog that obscured what was awaiting him began to clear. Revealed something that felt remarkably like relief.
“Can I try something?”
Arvid’s heart skipped. “Wh-what kind of something?”
The briefest beat of hesitation in Liam’s eyes quickly faded. Liam leaned in, resting one hand on Arvid’s thigh and the other coming up to rest on his cheek and under his jaw. It was slow and deliberate, like he was giving Arvid the chance to pull away. To back out and forget this ever happened. Arvid didn’t want to do that, though. And he closed his eyes.
Their lips met softly. A tentative touch, resembling a question. Arvid expected grand fireworks or for the room to start spinning, but none of that happened. Instead, there was a warmth that clicked into place, akin to the familiar shutter of a camera after you’ve spent ages on finding the perfect composition. It was nothing and everything that he could’ve imagined. It was real.
When Liam pulled back, they were both a little breathless.
“Well.”
”Yeah,” Arvid gasped.
”Alright,” Liam smiled.
Arvid felt the air return to his lungs, and something in his chest loosened.
Motion. Something moving forward. A fleeting moment forever captured in a lifelong memory. A snapshot in time. One that you get to share with your best friend. There’s not anything else better than that.