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Chapter Text

"Next!"

School picture days were a thing of nightmares. Getting in line by alphabetical order of last names, shuffling closer to the dreaded generic background of a blue sky with perfect fluffy clouds. Steve was given the last name of Rogers, which meant he was towards the back. Gripping his books tight to his chest, he read the information card over and over again, thinking it would be a while before he was called. He thought wrong.

A large man was ushering him forward before he knew it and was telling him how to sit, guiding his books down, and taking his card from him. Steve awkwardly pat down his styled blond hair, hoping his efforts that morning wouldn't go to waste.

"A little to the left, Stefan."

"I-It's Steven."

"A little more, Stefan. There we go. Smile."

"It's Steve---" He was interrupted by a click and a bright flash.

"Oh god. Oh no." Steve picked up his pictures and immediately wanted to throw them in the trash, followed by himself. He was pictured mid-word, mouth open, metal retainer flashing for the world to see in an ugly grimace. He got so lost looking at the monstrosity before him that he didn't notice the bell ringing, or his best friend coming up behind him until a camera was positioned in front of his face and there was an arm around his scrawny shoulders.

"Smile, Stevie!" This time he actually did.

"C'mon, Buck. No more pictures."

"It's your 13th birthday! We have to document it! It's---"

Any conversation they were having halted as the coolest boys in school walked down the hall, crowd moving to accommodate The Avengers. The leader, Tony, stopped right in front of Steve and Bucky, his fake smile plastered on his face.

"Hey Steve. Hi Beaver. How's everything at the dam?"

Bucky rolled his eyes but Steve forced a smile, anything to blend in.

"So how did yours come out, Rogers?"

Steve clutched the envelope with his pictures closer to his chest, shaking his head. "Oh... Um not too good."

"Yeah, mine aren't that great either."

"Tony!" chimed one of the group members, Clint. "Yours look great!"

"They're the best!" came from Bruce, while the rest nodded along.

Tony shrugged like he wasn't expected to be validated and proudly displayed his pictures for Steve, his neutral face mocking Steve's one of anguish. "Wow, Tony. You're so photogenic!"

Bucky decided he had enough. "I'll meet you out front, okay?"

Before Steve could respond, Tony chimed in with a scoff. "Do whatever you want. It's not like he needs a play-by-play." The group laughed, so Steve chuckled with them, hoping Bucky would forgive him.

Once he left, Tony pulled Steve aside, away from the group though Steve suspected they already know what he was going to say.

"So Steve, I told Thor Odinson me and the Avengers were going to your party and he wanted to come with."

"Wow, really?" Steve has had a crush on Thor since middle school. The thought that he wanted to come to Steve's party, which would be at Steve's house, made him want to pass out with joy.

"But it's too bad we can't make it." And the joy was gone. "We really wanted to. Didn't we, guys?" The group nodded and offered their fake agreements. "It's just that Mr. Pierce is up our butts with this group project proposal and Thor is going to come over to help us, so he can't make it either..." Tony trailed off, attempting to look sorry but waiting for Steve to fall into his trap. Which he did.

"I could do your proposal for you."

"Fabuloso!"

Steve grinned as they walked past him, feeling hopeful that this could finally get him in their group.

"I don't know why you like those guys so much! You're so much cooler than them! They're so unoriginal, you're so much better than them!" Bucky kicked a rock on the ground, walking next to Steve as they always did after school since they lived next door to each other.

"I don't want to be original, Bucky. I want to be cool. I want to be in the Avengers."

Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I just still can't believe you invited those clones."

"They're my friends."

"No they're not." It was quite for a while before they both stopped in front of their houses, Bucky reaching into his pocket to pull out a candy package. "Want some razzles?"

"Razzles are for kids." Steve stuck his nose up, trying to seem older now that he was 13. He stuck his hand out anyways.

"Exactly." Bucky grinned as he poured two in Steve's hand and took one for himself, popping it into his mouth before they both began walking up to their houses.

"See ya later, punk!"

"See ya later, jerk!"

Steve stood in front of his mirror, looking over himself. He was wearing a light blue off the shoulder shirt and high waisted light wash jeans. He combed his hair about three thousand different ways but just decided to tease it a little. MTV was playing in the background, though Steve wasn't paying attention until Rick Springfield's 'Jesse's Girl' came on. He was so dreamy. Steve kneeled in front of the TV to press a kiss to the screen as Rick appeared, but was interrupted when his parents burst in without knocking.

"There's our lovely 13 year old! Happy birthday!" Both his parents shouted, his dad sporting a large camera over his shoulder and his mother pulling him in a hug which he pulled away from immediately to throw himself face down on his bed.

"Go away!" There was some frantic whispers before he felt his mother's hands on his back and heard his door close.

"Steve, it's going to be alright."

"No mom! Look at me! This is fatal."

"Honey, it's realistic. Just because you don't look like the boys in Poise magazine doesn't mean you aren't beautiful in your own way."

"I don't want to be beautiful in my own way! I want to look like these people! See? Thirty, Flirty, and Thriving. I want to be thirty."

Steve's mom just laughed and stood up. "You will be but for now you're my 13 year old. It'll go by quicker than you think."

As soon as she left, Steve stuffed some tissue in his shirt to make himself look more muscular.

As the first chords of Thriller chimed out, Steve began dancing. The party, located in Steve's basement, would start soon and he was nervous to say the least. He was halfway through the dance when Bucky came down, carrying a large box. He smiled when he saw Steve, not wanting to interrupt but the box was getting heavy.

"Happy Birthday Steve!"

"Buck!" Steve hurried to turn off the TV as Bucky set down the box on the coffee table, sitting down in front of it.

"This is just part one of your present, but I wanted to give it to you before everyone got here. You know how you always wanted a Barbie Dream House?"

Steve's eye lit up and he nodded, kneeling down next to Bucky. His heart started racing. He's only wanted one since forever.

"Well..... I made you your own Stevie Dream House." He lifted the top of the box to reveal a doll house, but completely remodeled.

"You made all this?" Bucky nodded and Steve could have cried. It was better than a Barbie Dream House.

"There's you in your bubble bath, relaxing and reading your favorite magazine." It was just a regular doll with a picture of Steve's face glued over the doll's face, cotton balls in the plastic tub to imitate bubbles, a tiny version of Poise in the doll's hands. "There's your room with a massive stereo and all the good records ever made." Most of it was tiny pieces of cardboard with words on it. "There's that bum Rick Springfield on the couch, and that's me to make sure he keeps his hands to himself." Rick was similar to Steve, in which he was a regular doll with a picture of his face glued over the doll's face. Bucky was a tiny, full body cardboard cutout. His finger was pointed at Rick as a gesture of warning.

"Oh! Almost forgot the wishing dust! This wishing dust knows what's in your heart of hearts, it'll make all your dreams come true." As Bucky poured the sparkly dust over the little house, Steve closed his eyes and wished as hard as he could. Then the doorbell chimed.

"Oh they're here!" Steve shot up, running around the room to make sure everything was perfect. Snacks? Check. Music? Clear space? He knocked over a few cassettes in his attempt to put music on before giving up and grabbing the Dream House. "I'm just gonna put this away so there's room to dance." He stuffed it in the closet before shutting the door and hurrying up the stairs.

Steve grinned as he opened the door to let the Avengers in. "Hey guys. The party's downstairs." They all threw their coats on him as they made their way inside, but Steve could care less because Thor Odinson and his friends were dropped off at the same time. "Fabuloso." He muttered to himself.

Once they all made their way downstairs, Bucky had put on a mix that only he was dancing to. Steve could have died from embarrassment. Tony took it upon himself to eject the cassette and hand it to Bucky. "Sorry, Beave-head. Majority rules." He turned on the radio and Bucky scoffed and muttered something under his breath as he made his way to Steve. "I'm gonna go get my Casio."

Steve, who was inspired by the group around him, shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It's not like I need a play-by-play." Everyone but Bucky laughed, and Steve felt like he was finally fitting in, even if it hurt a little when Bucky brushed past him.

"I have an idea. Let's play Seven Minutes in Heaven. You can go first since you're the birthday boy." Tony slyly announced, untying the scarf from his neck and crowding against Steve, who was starting to lose his confidence. "How does that one go again?" The smaller boy inquired, though he was already being pushed toward the closet.

"Well. You go in the closet and some lucky guy's gonna go in there and do what he wants with you for seven whole minutes. Guess who wants to go first? Thor Odinson." Tony whispered that last part as he tied the scarf around Steve's eyes.

"No way!"

"Way!" Tony punctuated by turning Steve around in the closet, trying not to laugh like the rest of the group. "Oh.... before I forget. Where's our project proposal?"

"It's on the table."

"Thanks. Have fun! No peaking! And also, Thor loves going for second base."

Tony closed the door and Steve hurriedly pulled out all the tissue in his shirt. Little did he know, everyone outside was leaving and taking the snacks with them. A few minutes passed and Steve had sat down, losing faith that Thor was coming. Then the door opened and he smiled, reaching his hands out. "I was thinking you weren't gonna come. Where are you?"

Hands were locked with his and he felt pressure, like someone leaning in. He leaned up a little, waiting to meet lips he's only dreamed about. "Oh, Thor...."

"It's not Thor! It's Bucky!"

"Bucky?! Where's Thor?!" Steve ripped the scarf off and got up, ripping his hands away from Bucky and looking out at the empty room.

"He's gone. Everyone left."

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Bucky grabbed his Casio and started to position it so he could play. "Just listen. I wrote you--"

"Get out!" He pushed him out of the closet and closed the door, putting the scarf back over his eyes and sitting down against the shelves. "I hate you! I hate me! I hate everybody!"

"Just let me play you this song. It'll make you feel better!"

Steve wasn't listening anymore. He covered his ears and began to hit his back against the shelves, tears slowly flowing beneath the scarf. "I wanna be thirty! Thirty and flirty and thriving!" He yelled, hitting the shelf so hard that the wishing dust from the Dream House began to sprinkle down around him. He softly repeated the words as he rocked back and forth against the shelf, unaware of the Casio drowning out and his surroundings fading away. He was only aware of his pain and how much he wished it would go away, how much he wanted to just grow up already.

Chapter Text

As the next morning arrived, Steve briefly wondered why his parents hadn't come in to wake him up. Maybe it was too early and he still had time to sleep. He stretched out, ignoring that he felt a lot silkier in his bed than he normally did, or that his feet touched the wall without him having to move down. He gripped his abnormally puffy comforter and wrapped himself in it before turning over, only to find himself on the floor. "Ow! What the...." he muttered, slowly crawling his way out of the comforter and towards his door, only knowing it was there when he bumped his head into it.

"Ouch!" Why the hell couldn't he see? He ran his hand over his face and settled upon the sleeping mask, pushing it up into his forehead. Weird. He never owned one of those before. He opened the door but was greeted with a completely different hallway than the one he remembered.

"Mom?" He stuck his head out slowly, getting up and walking out even slower. "Dad?" He walked down the hall until he saw the living room, which was certainly not his, and was in a vastly different location than it should have been. Did he move bedrooms? Did his parents very quietly remodel the house during the night? Turning to the other side of him, there was a mirror with a stranger looking back at him.

"AHHHHH!" Steve screamed, backing up but falling over the barrier between the hall and the living room, landing flat on his butt. Just then, while he was on the ground, the door at the end of the hall opened and a dark skinned man came out brushing his teeth, wearing nothing but a towel. Unaware that Steve was freaking out on the floor, he went about his business and strolled to the kitchen. When he was gone, Steve's head popped up from behind the counter, peaking at the mirror with one eye. Who the heck is that?! Why are they doing the exact same thing?!

He took a deep breath and stood up, placing his hands on his face, which the person in mirror copied as well. He was slowly beginning to accept that....that's him. That's what he looked like. And...wow. He traced his jawline, which was certainly more defined now, touched his lips that were full and cherry red. His hair was relatively the same, just lighter and more neatly cut. Then his eyes roamed down and whoa. He supposed puberty was kind to him because he didn't even recognize his body. He actually had muscles now. His chest was more broad, and whoa. He had pecs.

He grabbed his new pecs, walking around in a daze until he found a weird looking chair to collapse in. He checked his forehead for signs of fever, hanging his head between his knees. Behind him, the man from earlier strolled back into the bathroom, still oblivious to Steve's crisis. There was a stack of mail in front of Steve's face and he grabbed it, confusion etched deeply into his face.

"Steve Rogers.... Steve Rogers.... Steve Rogers... I live here." He found a phone and hurriedly picked it up, dialing the number to his parent's house. His father's voice came on, happy and cheery, and Steve thought he had picked up until he heard "we're on a cruise until the 18th" followed by a beep.

"You went on a cruise without me?" He let out a shaky breathe and hung up, dropping the phone somewhere. "Whoa. This a dream. A really weird dream." Music started to sound throughout the apartment and Steve got up to look around for it, interrupted when he heard the shower start. Then someone called out.

"Hey sweet bottom!"

Steve jumped, breathing heavily. Who was that?!? He grabbed the closest item to him, an umbrella, and held it out like a weapon. He slowly walked closer to the bathroom. "I know you're there! And my parents are totally gonna be home any minute. AHHH!" The man came or of the bathroom, still only in his towel, indifferent to Steve brandishing the umbrella in defense.

"Sweet bottom, where's the conditioner?"

Steve was so baffled, looking over this mans body. "You're naked!"

"Well not yet..." He undid the towel and held it up but Steve opened the umbrella to shield his eyes, throwing it at the man who was both amused and confused. Steve took off running, opening the door and grabbing his coat and shoes, not caring he was only in pajamas. He vaguely heard the man call out for him as he got into the elevator and slipped his shoes on.

Once he got to the ground floor, he grabbed the sleeping mask from his forehead and the music from earlier started playing. He stopped a random man on the street, asking him if he could hear it too, but he just walked by and looked at him like he was crazy.

"Steve! Come on, we're going to be late!" Steve looked at the strange man calling his name, shaking his head. "I don't get in the car with strangers..." Then man continued to urge him over, pausing to talk on his phone, and Steve slowly approached him. He looked familiar but Steve had no clue who he was. He handed him a cup and Steve took it but didn't move.

"....Hold on a second. Steve, can you get in the car?" Steve shook his head again. "I can't get in the car. I don't get in the car with strangers!"
"Steve just get in. We're gonna be late. You're being a little paranoid."

The man from his apartment stuck his head out the window and yelled at that moment. "Hey sweet bottom! Don't make me come down there and get you!"

Steve decided getting in the car with a stranger was better than that naked guy. He rushed into the car, the man getting in on the other side, and then the car took off. He didn't even recognize the city other than it was New York, and briefly thinks he'd been kidnapped. The man next to him---who was dressed in a black t-shirt, black pants, and a green leather jacket---turned to Steve and gave him a onceover. "Honey, I know im you're best friend, but I can't support your new sleepy chic look. Unless it's retro."

Steve's confused train of thought was interrupted and he looked to the man, trying to understand who it was. "Are you really my best friend?"

His face fell. "Oh god. You're pregnant."

Steve jumped back in shock. "What?! Oh my god no. How...?! No!!"

The man looked relieved and settled back in his seat. "You scared me. What did you do last night?"

"That's the thing! Something really strange is happening! I woke up in an apartment I've never seen before! There was a naked man!" He took in a deep breath, but whispered the next part. "I saw his thingy."

The man didn't even flinch. He just took a sip of coffee and made a fake sympathetic face. "Oh god. Not his thingy." He deadpanned before completely switching gears. "Hey driver! Can you please pull over since we're here!" Steve didn't want to get out but he had no choice. The man got out and walked toward a huge building and Steve ran to catch up. "Wait! Please listen to me! I'm 13! This is a really weird dream!"

"Steve, if you're gonna start lying about your age, I'd go with 27." He kept walking, annoyed at Steve for apparently acting crazy. Then the music started again. "LIKE THAT! DO YOU HEAR THAT?" He whipped around, struggling to find the source of the noise. The man just rolled his eyes and stopped him, pulling a small device from his coat pocket.

"Would you stop being ridiculous?! It's probably just Peggy!" He opened the phone and walked faster. Steve ran to catch up again. "Who's Peggy?"

"You drink too much. Peggy, your boss? Brown wavy hair, British." He handed Steve the device, which was a phone apparently, and Steve took it and said hello.

It wasn't anyone named Peggy. It was the naked guy. "You! Put on your pants and stop calling me sweet bottom! And get out of my house!" Steve lowered the phone, unaware that you had to close it to end the conversation. The faint voice of the man on the phone could be heard but Steve was freaking out. He just wanted to curl up and cry in a hole somewhere.

"I don't know what's happening! I don't know what to do!"

The man stopped him, annoyance fading away to slight concern. "Alright you need to calm down. Repeat after me: I am Steve Rogers, big time magazine editor."

Steve's eyes widened. "I am?" The man just scoffed. "Repeat it!"

"I am Steve Rogers, big time magazine editor!" He grinned, feeling a little better than before.

"I'm a tough bitch!" continued the man.

Steve's face went red and he gently scoffed. That was a bad word. He couldn't say that...

"Say it!"

He looked at the man and sighed. "I am a tough...bitch." Whispering the last part, he felt a small dose of adrenaline rush through him. Wow. He's never said a bad word before.

"I'm gonna walk into that office, I'm not gonna let anyone know I'm hungover." Steve's face crinkled up and he shook his head.

"But that's not the point! I'm not hungover!" The man gave him a stern look and Steve sighed, pointing to the office just like the other guy did.

"I'm gonna walk into that office and I'm not gonna let anyone know I'm hungover," he rushed out, slightly annoyed.

"Because the future of Poise depends on me," finished the man. Steve could've fainted.

"Poise?" He was shocked. Did he really work for Poise? He waited for the man to say sike or something but he just rolled his eyes and walked away, like he gave up trying. Steve just followed him happily. He could get used to this if he worked for Poise, his all time favorite magazine.

As soon as they got up to the office, people started bombarding him with questions, needing answers immediately. He just did the best he could even though he didn't understand why someone would be asking him about M&Ms. Then some woman called out to them and ordered them to turn around but Steve didn't get it, following at the last minute.

"I trust my two executive editors are late because they were promoting us at all the right parties," she said, her voice thick with a British accent.

"You got it, Peggy." Then it finally connected to Steve.

"Peggy! You're my boss!"

She chuckled. "That's right, baby. Who's your mommy?" She faced him and smiled but turned, not expecting an answer.

"Sarah Rogers!" He proudly answered.

The man walking with him just stared at him. Once they got into a large room with chairs, Steve sat down and wrote his name on the paper pad in front of him, assuming this was a class. Peggy quieted the room by ripping a cover from a magazine. Steve didn't pay any attention until the he woman who asked him about M&Ms asked if he needed anything else, and he was slightly taken back by her thick accent. "Like a favor?"

"Uh sure?"

"I need you to find this guy! I have his number!"

Peggy clapped her hands and shooed the woman away, who Steve learned was named Wanda, and she hurried out. But Steve was able to write down the number on a paper and throw it at her before she could leave, then he slid off the seat to create a diversion.

The man next to him, suffering from secondhand embarrassment, made an apologetic face to everyone in the room. "Steve's a little hungover today." Everyone made noises of clarification, not really surprised. Peggy just rolled her eyes.

"Okay children. Seven months in a row Sparkle steals our story." She points to two magazine covers side by side on a wall. "Which one do you think people will go for? The 10th or the 11th secret?" Steve looked around then slowly raised his hand. That was easy. He knew the answer. The man next to him shook his head.

Peggy continued. "It's like they have Sparklecams in here."

The man next to Steve spoke up. "Peggy, we're installing passwords, building firewalls on all our computers. Steve fired Charlotte yesterday."

Peggy raised her eyebrows at Steve. "Did you?" Steve looked around, unsure of how to answer so he nodded.

"Good," Peggy affirmed, "I guarantee you she had friends at Sparkle. She was always taking notes."

"She was a secretary."

Peggy scoffed. "Well whatever! Our party tonight is now huge. We need to make an unequivocal statement that Poise is still hot and happening. Now we need a newsstand civic expert analysis done immediately. I also strongly suggest we take apart our F.O.B., overhaul the B.O.B., think about new heads, desks, and slugs. Steve what do you think?"

Steve didn't understand a word Peggy just said, especially because she said it so fast. He blinked up at her, then looked around. The man next to him urged him to say something.

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

Steve rushed out of there and down the hall as fast as he could, finding an office with his name on it. He hurried inside and shut the door behind him, throwing his jacket on a chair. The room was really nice, the kind of office he'd always dreamed of, and it had pictures decorating the walls. One in particular caught Steve's eye from across the room and he rushed over to it. It was Madonna. He had that same picture in his room back home but now.... now it was signed.

"Steve, darling. Margaritas anytime. Love you, Madonna.... I'm friends with Madonna!" Steve traced the picture with his fingers, before his eyes landed on a picture of him and the naked guy in his apartment. They seemed to be pretty cozy but Steve was still confused. A knock on the door broke his thought and he tentatively walked to the door, opening it only enough to stick his face out.

Wanda jumped on the other side, looking more frightened than casually shocked. "Uh... Here are your messages. Your mother called this morning from Barbados." Steve perked up. "My mom called? I wish you told me."

Wanda looked like she did something wrong. "Oh... I'm sorry, Mr. Rogers. I thought you told me never to bother you with family calls." Steve frowned. "I did? I said that?" His expression seemed to scare Wanda more. "Please don't fire me."

Steve shook his head, wondering why she would think that. "No no. I won't. It's not your fault. I just forgot I said that. Next time she calls, please tell me."

Wanda nodded then leaned in a little closer. "I also have that information you asked for."

"Bucky!" Steve pulled Wanda inside his office. "Well the number you gave me was his parents house and I told them I worked for Visa and James was in a lot of trouble."

"You lied to the Barnes'?" He took the paper from her with his address anyways, not really understanding what she meant by trouble only that she lied.

"He's in the Village. 212 Bank Street, Apartment 2B."

Steve nodded along. "Which village?"

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows, thinking Steve was on something. "Um... Greenwich Village."

Steve sensed she was thinking he was weird so he just laughed. "Oh. Right. Duh. Thanks." He grabbed his coat and basically ran out the door, ignoring Wanda calling after him to ask if he wanted to cancel his meetings.

All he cared about was finding Bucky. He could clear some things up.

Chapter Text

"Excuse me!"

"Hello! Sir?"

"Please!"

Steve tried and failed to hail a cab. He stuck his hand out a few times but they mostly ignored him. He decided just to walk, even though he had no clue where he was going. He took off in the direction of a newsstand, asked the man running it if he knew where the address was, and followed the directions he gave to a tee. Soon he was turning on Bank Street and found the building marked 212. Taking a very deep breath, he pressed the button to 2B a few times.

A slightly muffled, gruff voice answered. "Yeah! Yeah? Hello?"

Steve almost died. "Um.... hi. This is Steve. I'm looking for Buck---James. I don't know if you're the right one, but if you used to live in Brooklyn and your favorite shirt is the gray velour one, then I need to speak to you right now! Please!"

He knew his words came out hurried and frantic but he was too full of hope to care. Until the voice spoke up again.

"Uh.... yeah. I didn't catch any of that. If you're from Ming Gardens, buzz twice. If not, I don't want---" The voice was cut out by Steve buzzing twice. A loud noise went off next to him, signaling he could go up, and he pushed through the doors and practically ran up.

Once up to the door, he tried to calm his heart down and knocked a couple times. A face appeared in the crack of the door, one of the most gorgeous faces Steve's ever seen.

"You're not Chinese." The man said, confused and slightly disappointed.

"James?"

"Uh...yeah."

"Wow. You're tall. You're different."

"Yeah?" The other man said, and Steve took a moment to look at him. Really look. This older version of his friend had long hair, tied up loosely in a bun. He was slightly tan, muscular from what little Steve could see in the crack of the door. He looked absolutely nothing like he remembered.

"You don't know me? That's so weird because yesterday you were there, only it wasn't yesterday because I'm not thirteen!" Steve started out talking to Bucky but broke away halfway through to ramble. It all felt so unreal.

"Steve..... Steve Rogers."

"Yes! Yes! Bucky, it's me!"

Suddenly the door closed in his face. Steve heard noises, but was confused. He was about to turn and leave when the door completely opened and revealed Bucky's whole body. Steve was right, he was muscular. They were roughly the same height too, something entirely new to Steve who was always smaller than everyone.

"Bucky!" He crashed into the other man, bringing him into a hug and not even caring that he wasn't hugged back.

Bucky gently pat his back, closing the door with one hand. "Come on in," he muttered in a sarcastic tone. Steve let him go and walked down the few steps into his living room. He looked around, taking in the place. It was a little smaller than his apartment--which felt really weird to think--but it was decorated heavily with posters and pictures, things all over the place but not in a messy way.

"You still take pictures?" Steve stopped to admire one on the wall, Bucky coming up behind him sheepishly.

"Yeah, it pays the bills. Um.... hey, Steve. Why are you here?"

Steve looked at him, puzzled. "Bucky I told you. Something really weird is happening. Yesterday was my thirteenth birthday and then today I woke up and I'm this. And you? You're that! You get it?

There was a small quiet pause.

"Are you high? You been smoking pot? Doing X? Fall into a K-hole? Doing drugs?"

"No! No. Look. I was sitting in my closet... and I skipped everything. It's like a weird dream. I can't remember my life. You need to help me remember my life!" Steve pleaded, frustrated that he lacked the capacity to fully explain, or even understand, the situation. It did sound crazy but that's exactly what it was.

"Me? I can't do that."

"Why not?"

Bucky scoffed, getting a little tense. "Because I don't know anything about you. I haven't seen you since high school."

Steve's whole world stopped. Everything just hit him all at once, and he wobbled a little bit.

"We're not friends anymore, Steve."

"Bucky, you're my best friend."

"No.... and I don't go by Bucky anymore either. It's James now."

Steve wanted the floor to swallow him up whole. He blinked a few times, his breathe becoming a little shallow, and the room began to spin. He swayed and landed on the couch, on the verge of hyperventilating.

James panicked, sticking his arms out cautiously in case Steve fell. "Hey, it's cool. It's okay."

"Is it hot in here?"

"It's... Um do you want me to open a window?"

"I think I need some fresh air and a glass of water and a fluffy pillow." Steve was going to pass out right then and there. His weird dream just turned into a nightmare.

"Glass of water? I'll get you some. You want ice?"

The questions were too much for Steve. "I want a fluffy pillow! Please!" His small whispers turned into a yell but he couldn't control it. He couldn't control anything.

James backed away and nodded, heading into what was probably the kitchen to get water.

Steve felt like a part of him just died.

Outside, it was a beautiful day. Steve was sitting on a bench, James right in front of him. He clutched to the pillow for dear life, chugging as much water as he possibly could. He didn't remember how he got outside but the ground stabilized underneath him and his lungs worked properly now, another weird thing to say since he was asthmatic.

"You alright?"

Steve, with a mouthful of water, just nodded. James smiled softly.

"Steve, I think you should go back to your apartment. I'll help you find it."

Steve sighed and nodded, then gave the glass and pillow back to his former best friend and waited on the bench for him as he went to put everything back.

They started to walk, Steve deep in thought and James too awkward to really do much.

"I don't understand...." Steve finally muttered.

"Steve, our lives went different ways. We went to different colleges, different careers."

"But what about Christmas? Didn't you want to see me then?"

"I think I saw you through a frosted window once like six years ago."

"Six years ago? Wasn't I home last Christmas?"

"Steve, I don't know. Doesn't your crowd do St. Bart's for Christmas? I don't know."

Steve was more confused now then before, getting lost in thought once more before James stopped.

"Is this you?"

The both looked up the tall building, Steve sighing.

"Yeah. This is where I live now." He sounded deflated, not really excited anymore. How could he enjoy his life when he didn't have his best friend anymore?

"Okay so.... nice seeing you." James sounded just as dejected but Steve sensed it was for a different reason, like seeing him brought up something James didn't want to bring up. "Good luck. Okay?"

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

Steve watched his back for a second, confusion evident on his face.

"James---" he yelled before the other man got too far, waiting for him to turn around.

"Yeah?"

"Who is St. Bart?"

"Ah, the most depressing years of my life. Our high school yearbook."

Steve looked over the pictures, tracing a few with his fingers until he saw one in particular that shocked him.

"James..... Was I an Avenger?"

"Uh, yeah. You were pretty much their leader." He was walking around the place, taking a sip of a Diet Coke he got from the fridge, his voice devoid of emotion. Those really were the worst years of his life.

"There's Tony. I wonder what happened to him."

"Last I heard, you guys are still pretty good friends. I think you work together?"

"Oh yeah! Anthony. He's Anthony Stark now." He turned the page in disbelief, thinking how silly he must've looked this morning acting like he didn't know him. "He looks so different."

"Yeah. He's pretty big into the whole plastic surgery movement."

Steve wasn't entirely sure what that meant, since he thought they all looked different now and that was naturally going to happen. He thought Tony looked different because of the weird facial hair he had.

"I was prom king.... and I went with Thor Odinson."

Steve was overwhelmed. He was shocked but in a good way. James, on the other hand, sounded deadpan.

"Yep."

"This is incredible. I can't believe it. I got everything I ever wanted."

"Yeah, Stevie. You got it all. Congratulations."

The phone rang and Steve just looked at James. He called him Stevie. He hadn't done that the entire time they've been speaking.

"It's your phone." James said, motioning to it. That snapped Steve out of it and he ran to get it, flopping down in the couch thing like a teenager answering the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Gramercy calling to confirm your limousine pickup for 8:30 this evening?"

"My...limo? Yes. My limousine pick up at 8:30. I will be prepared to take my ride at that time. Can you tell me where I'm going?" He put on his best adult sounding voice.

"The Palace. 27 Wall Street."

"Thank you."

Steve dropped the phone and laughed, spreading himself out on the couch in excitement.

"I'm going to a party in a Limo!" He laughed again, grinning. Being an adult was cool!

James offered a fake laugh, feeling his chest collapse with disappointment though he didn't know why. "Great. Looks like you're back to your old self, Steve. I should probably go."

Steve sat up, his happiness gone momentarily. "You don't wanna go to the party?"

"Nah, I gotta work. Thanks."

"Shoot. I forgot you had a job. It's kind of cool, we both have jobs."

"Totally."

"Well if you decide to come, it'll be really fun. 27 Wall Street." He repeated the address, oblivious to the fact that he was the only one that didn't know what The Palace was.

"Great. Thanks, Steve. Bye bye." Steve walked him to the door but stopped before he could open it.

"James..." The man turned, a tense smile on his lips.

"What if this isn't just a dream? What if what I wished for actually happened?"

"Well then you got everything you ever wanted. Might as well enjoy it." His smile wasn't genuine, but Steve's was. He was right. He could enjoy this. He watched his friend walk down the hall to the elevator.

"Bucky!" Steve loudly whispered, momentarily forgetting he didn't like to be called that anymore.

"Yeah?" James answered, his smile becoming fond now that the nickname slipped.

"See ya later, jerk."

James chuckled and shook his head. "I'll see you." He started to walk again.

"James," Steve pouted a little but still laughed.

"Yeah?" He answered, although he knew what Steve wanted. Steve just gave him an expectant look. He sighed.

"See ya later, punk." James decided it was a good choice because the little laugh Steve let out warmed him up from head to toe. After all these years and bitterness, it seemed he still had that affect on him. He waited until Steve closed the door to his apartment to press the elevator button, staring longingly at the 7C on the door. His life had officially been turned upside down.

Steam erupted from the bathroom as Steve finally got out of the shower. He took a while, mainly because he was trying to figure out how everything worked, but also he was trying every single product around. He wrapped a towel around his waist and grinned as he walked to his room. HIS room in HIS apartment. He could take as long as he wanted and do what he wanted. He was everything he'd ever wanted to be. Sure, remembering how he got there would be nice, but who cares? He's an editor at Poise! He's going to a party! In a limo!

Finding a silky robe hanging on his closet door, he dropped the towel to put that on instead because he was an adult now and adults wear robes to get ready. He sat down at his vanity, a real one that wasn't also his dresser, and looked at the massive amount of products all scattered about. Jeez. Where did he start? Lips, he supposed.

Pulling out a pink lipstick that was slightly darker than his lips, he delicately applied it and followed it with a very pale pink lip gloss. Next he put on a small swipe of light blue eyeshadow, to accentuate his deep blue eyes as he learned from Poise, and settled on some mascara after struggling with false lashes. Last was blush, a mix of two outrageously pink colors that he graciously applied to his cheeks then swiped all over. He thought he looked absolutely gorgeous. No one had told him that looking like he was embarrassed wasn't in fashion anymore.

Deciding his look was on point, he moved on to wardrobe. Any thoughts he had in his mind completely left as soon as he entered his ginormous closet. A walk-in closet exactly like the one from his magazines. He ran his fingers over all the clothes, and looked lovingly at his wall of shoes. This is what heaven looked like. Directly in front of him was a table with all sorts of multicolored cloth. He picked one of them up and stared at it, confused as to what the purpose of it was. Then it hit him. His thingy was supposed to fit in that?! Well.... it was either that or nothing. He chose a pink lacy thong and shrugged. Maybe once you become an adult, you can only wear that kind of underwear.

At 8:15, Steve was out the door. He pushed back his hair with a little bit of gel, and put on small diamond earrings with a bracelet that matched. His outfit consisted of a shirt that had asymmetrical stripes of bright colors, white slim fitting pants, and baby blue Oxford dress shoes that went perfectly with his shirt. He couldn't keep the smile off his face as he waited for the elevator, he was so excited!

When the elevator stopped, there was a young boy already in there. Steve stood next to him and tried to calm himself down as they descended to the bottom floor.

"I'm Steve, by the way." He introduced himself confidently, wanting to make a new friend.

"Yeah I know. I'm Eli." The younger teen replied, looking at Steve with a defensive look.

"How old are you anyway?" Steve carried on, ignoring how the teen seemed to be bracing himself for something.

"13."

"Oh me too!" Steve grinned, then caught himself when Eli looked at him funny. "Used to be."

"Why are you talking to me?"

"Why not? We are neighbors right?"

"But you never talk to me. You usually ignore me." Eli rolled his eyes, looking away.

Steve wasn't really sure how to take that. He's beginning to think that not many people like him outside of work. Quickly, he decided to change that. "I like your shoes."

"Thanks... I like your shirt."

"It's because I got these incredible pecs to fill it out!" Steve exclaimed, grabbing said pecs and grinning. Eli tried not to laugh but failed. Once the elevator stopped, they walked out together with smiles.

"I like your shoes!" Eli chimed in as they walked.

"Thanks! You should come by sometime, I got like a gazillion of them."

"Really?"

"Yeah! It'd be totally cool." Eli seemed baffled at how nice Steve was, and it made Steve feel really good inside. Before they could exit, Steve slowed to a stop tentatively.

"Hey Eli? Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Can you tell I'm wearing underwear? Because I totally am!" Steve's never worn a thong before, he's hardly even heard of them, and the feeling of it was all he could focus on.

"Uh.... I think that's kinda the point."

They laughed and walked out of the building, Steve's nerves subsiding for the moment.