officialdiegorodriguez

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez: Fuck

@officialdiegorodriguez deleted this comment.

↳INSTAGRAM: @henrybly uploaded a photo:

listening to some new stuff.

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez liked this post.

@officialdiegorodriguez: Happy holidays, Bly fam. 💜

↳INSTAGRAM: @henrybly uploaded a photo:

the bly’s being home for the holidays means extra attention for marmalade.

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez liked this tweet.

@dantesbly: it’s the way dante and henry barely ever post about each other anymore 😭 where did my ship go

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez liked this post.

↳INSTAGRAM: @danteleept uploaded a photo:

How many races until winter break?

[officialdiegorodriguez]

Charles Leclerc in Top Gun Canal+ Supersonique

[officialdiegorodriguez]

Housed by the walls of their hotel as they were, the two men were still lacking in total privacy, the not-so-subtle stares of guests littered around the lobby as they took in the scene before them. Two relatively well-known bandmates stumbling through the entryway, corralled past the reception desk by a handful of a security, the taller of the two cradling a bloody hand. It wasn’t a pretty sight – one that would certainly be making headline news sooner rather than later. Out of the corner of his eye, Diego could see iPhones being lifted, held to the chests of their owners as they tried their luck at a sneaky photo or video. 

Despite his frustration and the sheer absurdity of it all, he found himself zeroing in on Henry and nothing else, the soft tones of his pretty accent grounding him. The pain in his hand was harsh, the sting of it even sharper as he felt his boyfriend’s hands close carefully over his skin, but he found he didn’t mind. He wanted to tuck himself away with Henry, feel the touch of his hand against him, to feel comforted and cared for by the boy he was so maddeningly in love with. His gaze was solely focused on Henry now, vision swimming carefully back into focus as he watched him survey the damage. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered, his words barely a breath on his lips, loud enough so that only Henry could hear. “It’ll heal.” 

His own attempts at reassuring Henry seemed to fall on deaf ears, words spoken through fits of rage casting a cloud over their conversation as he looked back at the pianist, frustration and concern etched across his features. Henry no longer seemed preoccupied with the state of his hand, but instead on scolding him. 

“Crazy? Jeez, Hen,” Diego mumbled, feeling defensive suddenly.  

He felt flushed, embarrassment flooding him at the realisation that even his boyfriend wasn’t on his side. His stomach seemed to turn as he found himself pulling his hand free from Henry’s gasp, hissing as blood spilled down his fingers, dripping onto the clean marble below. His vision swam as Henry’s words hit him, the acknowledgement that only was Henry not grateful that somebody had stepped in, but that instead he perceived Diego as violent, as somebody that others might need protecting from. 

“I didn’t– It wasn’t like that, I just...” he found himself stuttering, searching aimlessly for a defense, for some way to explain away what had just happened. 

He blinked rapidly, tears stinging at the edges of his eyes, nerves rattling through his bones. He'd been on camera – he knew that much, there’d been more than just one paparazzi in the area – and no doubt the image of him hitting that asshole would already be circling social media now. He could feel the distant buzz of his phone in his back pocket, but he only had time for Henry. He needed to explain, needed his boyfriend to see sense, to come around to his side. 

“He called you a – it's a hate crime, Hen. Don’t you get it? That’s assault too, you know that? It was self-defense, I– I’m not aggressive, I’m...” 

Diego swallowed back any further attempt at fighting his own corner. What was the point? He’d been subjected to slurs and hate speech his entire life, and no doubt Henry had been too since he’d come out, so why should now have been any different? Why had he felt so compelled to lash out the way he had? He felt sick, nausea rolling through his stomach, bile building in the back of his throat as he fought the urge to throw up. 

He could handle the press; he was sure of that. If the Shattered Diamonds wanted him out, if Ciara thought he was too much of a liability, then so be it. He’d cross that bridge when he got there, but having Henry look at him like this, wide eyed and horrified, was more than he could stomach. His own boyfriend was probably terrified, disgusted that he could be reduced to something so juvenile and cruel, all because of a word that, though not directed at Diego, had hurt far more than the gush of blood spilling from his knuckles. 

“I'm not... I can’t do this,” Diego muttered, shaking his head.

He stumbled as he took a small step backwards, the heel of his shoe pressing against the puddle of blood that had gathered. The shrill squeak of rubber against marble seemed to echo through the lobby as he lifted his head, catching Henry’s gaze another time, eyes pleading.

“I’m not a bad person.” 

The quiet of the hotel lobby should have felt like a sanctuary to Henry, shielding him and Diego from the chaos of camera flashes and yelling that tried to filter its way in from outside. However, he became acutely aware of several eyes on the pair of them, halting him in his path and helping him realise that he couldn't just pull his boyfriend into his arms like he wanted to. Too many people were watching them and he doubted he could trust any of them to keep what they were witnessing to themselves.

But he needed to check on Diego in some way and so he cast a worried glance at the other man who was now, it seemed, asking Henry if he was alright.

“What?” Henry asked, bluntly. He blinked, staring at Diego. “What do you mean am I okay?”

As far as Henry was concerned, he had no reason not to be okay. He wasn’t the one who had just been involved in an altercation with a photographer. Diego was the one who needed to be checked on. He knew that Poppy would probably have something to say to him if she were here, telling him that he needn’t be such a martyr and that it was alright for people to see if he was feeling okay too. But he couldn’t wrap his head around Diego’s concern being directed at him right now.

Diego had been the one who had reacted to the slur. Although, now that Henry thought back to the whole ugly affair, he remembered the exact question the photographer had asked. Diego had been the one to react, but the word had been used to describe Henry.

An awful, sickening feeling settled in his stomach. Not because he was overly bothered about being the subject of that particular flavour of foul language - he’d been in the boys’ locker room at high school before - but because he knew that, to some extent, he was to blame for Diego throwing the punch.

Diego had done it to defend Henry.

“Shit,” he muttered.

He allowed Diego to fist a hand in his pristine white t-shirt, the blood from his knuckles staining it in a way that he already knew several turns in a washing machine wouldn’t be able to get out. The prancing horse emblem was untouched but Henry found himself wishing that it would be smeared with Ferrari-red blood. It was a wish that was aborted halfway through when he was reminded that it was Diego’s blood currently spilling onto the shirt.

“Cherie, your hand,” he muttered, reaching up to gently cradle it in both of his own hands. At that moment, he didn’t care who was watching. If Poppy got hurt, or Chess, he would do the exact same thing, tenderly holding Diego’s injured hand with a fragility that contradicted the unhappy set of his jaw. A bandmate could tend to the injury of his other bandmate, surely.

He looked up when Diego insisted that Henry should press charges or, even more astonishing, that he should have let Diego go ahead and properly fight the guy.

“D, are you crazy?” he hissed, dropping his voice low.

His eyes flicked between Diego’s as he waited for the penny to drop, as he watched for the realisation to dawn on his boyfriend’s face. For him to realise how serious this was.

“Diego, you just assaulted someone,” he said.

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez: Oh, hey. Who's the cute guy? ;)

↳INSTAGRAM: @henrybly uploaded a photo:

“i’m meg, you’re grace and he’s emma” - @.talkvalentina when @officialdiegorodriguez made us watch monte carlo

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez: @chessythrifts It’s okay to be wrong sometimes, babe.

@officialdiegorodriguez: @chessythrifts You’ve failed them, clearly.

@officialdiegorodriguez: Alright, fine. We’ve seen all the tweets and we’re finally listening. I’m sitting down with Henry & Val right now to watch Monte Carlo.

@officialdiegorodriguez: Leighton Meester is a babe.

@officialdiegorodriguez: We all agree that Luke Bracey is pretty cute.

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez: Alright, fine. We’ve seen all the tweets and we’re finally listening. I’m sitting down with Henry & Val right now to watch Monte Carlo.

@officialdiegorodriguez: Leighton Meester is a babe.

@officialdiegorodriguez: We all agree that Luke Bracey is pretty cute.

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez: @.popstarpoppy @henrybly Seconded.

↳INSTAGRAM: @.popstarpoppy uploaded a photo:

People and things lately.

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez: He has my eyes!

↳INSTAGRAM: @henrybly uploaded a photo:

sylvie went thrifting, found this guy and announced that his name was diego 👹

[officialdiegorodriguez]

↳INSTAGRAM: @officialdiegorodriguez uploaded a photo:

About last night. ❤️ Swipe for the birthday girl.

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez: Hey, @matthewrparker? @henrybly and I would like to know your intentions with our girl?

↳INSTAGRAM: @chessythrifts uploaded a photo:

✈️✈️✈️ @matthewrparker

[officialdiegorodriguez]

↳INSTAGRAM: @officialdiegorodriguez uploaded a photo:

Just wanna reassure everyone, we see all your comments, we hear your concerns. But Marmalade is taking good care of our guy.

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez: Hmmm. Ok, I’ll let you have this one.

↳INSTAGRAM: @callowaymusic uploaded a photo:

home to new york with @.popstarpoppy. she’s all smiles and feeling better.

[officialdiegorodriguez]

@officialdiegorodriguez: Health first, man. We’ll be back stronger than ever when we’re ready. ❤️

↳INSTAGRAM: @henrybly uploaded a photo:

all good. 👍 honey is taking care of me. so sorry to the fans who came out to the show last night and didn’t get what they paid for, and to the fans whose tour dates have been rescheduled. i’d love to play these last dates for you guys but was advised by medical to step back.

[officialdiegorodriguez]

TEXTING: HENRY

Diego: I’m on my way, babe. x

TEXTING: HENRY

Diego: Hen.

Diego: You’re not the problem. You have never been the problem.

Diego: I need you to understand this, okay? I know over text probably isn’t like, the right place to have these conversations. But I need it written down so you can never fucking forget it, babe.

Diego: I was scared and I was drowning because of me. Myself. Who I am and all those fears and all the ugly shit that’s inside of me.

Diego: Through all of it, you were the one fucking thing that made things feel safe and warm even just for a little while. You kept all that darkness at bay.

Diego: I know I sound like a fucking Matt Haig book right now but holy shit

Diego: Yeah, fine, I was good before you, baby. But I’m better for knowing you. For having you.