#AND I FIGURED IT OUT!!! I DID IT!!!!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lillaydee · 22 hours ago

Text

Shhh!!! Part 10

Celebrity!Joel Miller / F Reader

A reluctant celebrity contractor who has closed his heart for love meets a celebrity-hating Cafe on Wheels owner...

She HATES him. Thing is, he couldn't get enough of the coffee she makes...

Tag List:

@kirsteng42 @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @joelalorian @vickie5446 @inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @brittmb115 @peedrow @lovefreylove @jessthebaker @bunniboo0015

Let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list.

Dividers by the awesome @saradika

Header by Moi cause I learned how to use Canva! Yay me!

WARNINGS: Grumpy Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Celebrity Joel Miller, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 9

Joel was doing everything he could not to weave through traffic like a maniac, driving with his left hand while his right hand kept squeezing yours. Fuck. How could he have let this happen? He was right here, next to you, and you got hurt.

You got hurt.

That bastard opened the door and pulled you out. He had never seen this guy before. Was he a pap? He didn’t have a camera, just the phone. But he was aggressive. Too aggressive.

With you.

And there were phones everywhere. Everywhere. People were recording that. Your face, your assault, might go everywhere.

Fuck!

His ears were ringing yet muffled at the same time. He felt like he was in a bubble, noises coming out in blobby blurbs that he couldn’t really make out. He needed to get you to the hospital. You fell. From the passenger seat to the ground. He had no idea how far of a fall that was right now, but he needed to make sure you got checked out, should he call the hospital and have them ready blood for you, just in case you needed a transfusion?

“Joel.”

Fuck, why did he live in LA? Why was the traffic so bad? Why do people need to leave their house on Friday nights? Why? Why? Why?

“Joel.”

“We’re not far off now, we’ll be there soon. Hang in there okay, stay awake, keep your eyes on me,” he pleaded, eyes on the road, trying to figure out if his truck could fit on the sidewalk. How much would the summons be if he did that?

Fuck, he’s lightheaded. He could not breathe. His head was swimming.

“Joel,” he heard your sweet voice say again. “Pull over,” you pleaded.

He felt his hand being pulled. He finally chanced a quick look at you.

“Joel, pull over,” you asked him again, your voice as sweet and gentle as it had ever been, the hand he had been clutching now bringing his white knuckled one to your chest, the other covering it, gently caressing it.

He took a deep breath, his vision came back into focus, clocking how worried you looked. “Please, Joel, pull over.”

He indicated to the left, quickly pulling into the gas station and parked. You unbuckled, sat on your knees and faced him, taking his face with your right hand, asking him to breathe. Breathe Joel, deep breaths, please breathe.

What? Why were you asking him to breathe? You were the injured one.

You released his seatbelt and lowered the windows a crack, leaning across him to get to the power window buttons. You placed your hand on his chest, rubbing it gently, whispering for him to relax, breathe, your left hand still clutching his right one on your chest. You kept it up for a few minutes, until his breathing steadied a little. He put his left hand over your right one on his chest, feeling like he could take deep breaths again.

“You okay?” you asked, still gentle, still looking worried.

He turned his body towards you, taking in the situation. Your left hand was practically white – he had squeezed the living daylights out of it in his harried state. He quickly let go, rubbing it between his hands, apologizing to you over and over again.

He then turned his attention to the rest of your body, taking your face in his hands, eyes checking you for injuries, taking the hand the man pulled minutes before, checking your arm, and then the other, panic clear across his person.

“Are you okay? Are you injured?”

“I don’t think so, I’m okay, Joel,” you tried to coax him.

You were lying. Your arm hurt. Your hips hurt. Your back hurt. But not to the extent that you would require medical intervention. Some ice and some ibuprofen and you would be good to go. At that moment, though, you thought it best not to tell him – he was not in a good way. Sweating, panicking, anxiously looking around as if worried that guy was going to reappear and pull you out again.

“Let me take you to the ER, you should get checked out, just in case, you fell, I just wanted to be sure,” he pleaded, eyes still checking your person for anything out of place. He found nothing. Everything was just perfectly in place.

You are perfect.

“I didn’t hit my head, Joel. I landed on the step, it was mostly shock. I’ll be fine,” you told him, taking his hands in yours, trying to get him to focus, not panic, calm down. But he was still jittery, so you did the next thing that came to your mind. You sat up higher, you knees planted on the seat, and hugged him.

Joel was shocked. You hugged him. Tight. He was worried about you, and you hugged him. Tightly. So tightly. And just like that, his body relaxed, and he hugged you back, his eyes closed, his nose planted on your shoulder, your hair in his face. He took deep, deep breaths, the smell of coconut, your perfume, and that familiar hint of coffee enveloping his senses, until he finally felt calm.

The two of you held each other for what felt like hours, his breathing finally matching yours. You kept hugging him, deciding that you would wait until he was ready to stop the hug. Little did you know, Joel wasn’t planning on doing that – ever. He wanted to stay there forever.

But… he shouldn’t. So, after taking a few more deep breaths for stock, savouring what he could from you, he reluctantly peeled himself away from you, taking his time, taking one more whiff of your hair whispering a thank you for doing that for him.

When his vision refocused from closing his eyes so tightly, your dimply smile greeted him. “Better?” you asked, your head cocked to the side slightly, eyes full of concern for him.

He nodded, thanking you one more time.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hanging his head down, taking your hands in his. “You got hurt because you were with me. There were cameras everywhere. People might upload them, fuck… I’m so sorry.”

“Joel, look at me, please?” You were pleading.

As if I could deny you anything. He reluctantly looked into your eyes.

“I’m not hurt, and you got me out of there. And even if they upload the footage, it won’t be the first time – I was on Insta and TikTok from narcissistic people trying to shame me for making them pay for their food and all – I grew up here, remember? And let’s face it, no one’s gonna watch those videos and think you’re in the wrong. You got me out of there. Please don’t beat yourself up about this. I’m okay. See?” you displayed your arms and moved your head side to side, trying to prove to him that you were fine. You kept moving, wiggling your fingers, your nose, exaggerating each move until he cracked a smile.

“There it is. The smile I was waiting for,” you smiled at him.

There it is - the smile I couldn’t stop thinking about. He managed a small huff of a laugh.

“I uhm, I understand if you don’t want to spend any more time with me,” he offered with a heavy heart. “I don’t care what people think of me, really, so I don’t even care if they think I assaulted that man, but as used as you may be to it, it could get bad, I just… It’s not for everyone – it doesn’t happen a lot, but I get it.”

“Trying to get rid of me, Miller?”

“No! God, no! It’s just… I’m just saying… I get it. If that’s what you wanted.”

You were silent for a beat.

“Tell you what,” you said, “I haven’t had dessert. Get me an ice cream, and if you choose the right ice cream for me, we can forget the craziness that is tonight.”

“And if I got you the wrong ice cream?”

“Then tonight shall forever be the nightmare I bring up whenever I feel the need to guilt you into doing something for me.”

He laughed, less guilt in his features. “Okay,” he said, pulling the seat belt across his chest, “Prepare to be amazed,” he promised. He had been worried that you wouldn’t want to see him ever again, but instead, you asked him to take you for ice cream. As heavy as his heart still was at the thought that you almost got seriously hurt tonight, there was a lightness at the promise that either way, you still wanted to be in his company.

Joel had been standing in front of the ice cream display for ages, arms across his chest, right elbow resting on his left arm, his fingers tap tapping on his pouting lips. This was do or die. He could not afford to get this wrong. The poor boy behind the counter was still standing there, an empty cup in his hand, a scoop in another, patiently waiting for him to make up his mind.

He had to think carefully here. His eyes immediately fell to the espresso flavoured ice cream, before going down the rows and rows of different coloured ice creams, the names displayed on the teeny tiny flags sticking out the top. He needed to impress here.

“Dude,” the younger man in the group behind him said, “It’s ice cream. Just pick one.”

“Shhh!!! I’m thinking,” he said, brows scrunched up, eyes moving fast along the rows.

“He’s choosing for his girlfriend,” the boy behind the counter told the men.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Joel quickly countered, worried that you would hear the boy. You were sitting at the bench just outside the little shop, looking around at the younger crowd walking past with interest.

The younger men’s faces morphed with realization. “Ah… but you want her to be your girlfriend, don’t you? First date? This is choose to impress?”

Joel didn’t know why, but he found himself participating rather than getting annoyed. He nodded, eyes pleading for help.

“Okay,” the men nodded, understanding, sly smiles on their faces. They crowded him in a mini scrum, “Look, just close your eyes, and think about her. What reminds you of her when you do that?”

Joel wanted to scoff, of course he’d be reminded of coffee. That’s how you met. That’s too easy, though, too obvious. That’s not gonna impress you. Anyone could guess that. But… he’s really struggling here, and he really didn’t want the fact that you almost got hurt tonight be used against him forever (please let it be forever) so he decided to humour them. He closed his eyes, knowing that coffee was what he was gonna be thinking about.

No. It wasn’t coffee that came to mind. He opened his eyes, smiled his widest smiles and shook the young men’s hands, thanking them, and ordered.

He came to you with two cups in his hands, little spoons stuck on the scoops of chocolate and white coloured ice creams. He placed both in front of you, sitting down next to you.

“I’m guessing the coffee looking one is mine?” you asked, keeping your face as straight as you could.

“Nah, that’s mine.” He picked up the white one and gave it to you. You took a small sample of it in the flimsy plastic spoon, bringing it to your lips. You could hear his breathing stop, and you willed yourself to keep your expressions to yourself. But when the creamy, coconutty goodness hit your tongue, you couldn’t help yourself, licking your lips, taking another scoop and eating it, looking at him, who now had the most adorable, anxious look on him, waiting for the verdict.

“Damn, Miller,” you said, shaking your head, and his face fell. “Bad luck. I was so looking forward to guilting you forever.”

He heaved a sigh of relief so obvious the young men in the shop whooped, congratulating him on a choice well-made. He smiled so widely, tipping his proverbial hat at them, a thank you, for their help. He scooped his own espresso flavoured ice cream and took another scoop to offer to you for a taste.

“How do you know coconut is my favourite?” you asked, spooning some of your ice cream to his lips.

Fuck, he thought. What was he gonna say to you? Cause all I can think of when I think of you since you hugged me that first time was how good your hair smelled, and having your hair in my face just now made me want to live there forever? That’s not creepy at all.

“I got lucky, that’s all,” he said instead, shrugging, dipping his spoon, which looked ridiculously tiny in his massive hands, into your cup and eating it, almost swooning at how much the combo of coconut and espresso reminded him of that first hug you gave him. “So, am I forgiven?” he looked at you imploringly, still feeling guilty for what happened.

You shook your head, “Forgiving you would imply you did something wrong, Joel. You didn’t do anything wrong. Please don’t think that,” you told him, placing your hand on his arm. He placed his on top of yours, thumb caressing your skin, nodding slightly, quietly thanking you.

He walked you up to your apartment, walking slightly behind you and waited as you unlocked your front door. His heart felt heavy as you turned around to say goodnight. “I’m glad I joined you tonight, Joel, I had a lot of fun. And Maria seemed like a nice lady. She suits your brother.”

Joel wanted to say something but he got tongue-tied, standing there awkwardly, nodding. “Thank you for dinner, and the ice cream, and for walking me up, you didn’t need to do this,” you said, rising to your toes a bit, kissing him on his cheek. “Good night, Joel, I’ll see you around?”

He nodded, smiling slightly, whispering good night. But as you closed your door, his hand automatically stopped it, causing you to look at him expectantly, wondering if he needed something.

“Do you mind if I call you sometime?” he blubbered, thinking about the last time he asked a woman that question.

“No texting?” you joked.

He laughed, tension falling off his shoulder. “No, not text, calls, I promise, and not drunken ones,” he assured you.

“Okay then, call me anytime.”

His smile came automatically. Wide smile. Too wide, as he said okay happily, and pulled your door closed behind you.

He arrived home to an empty house, puzzled at where the two girls were. Just as he was about to call, Sarah’s car drove in, both girls merrily laughing, milkshakes in their hands.

“I thought your car wouldn’t start?” he asked, hands on his hips.

“Oh, false alarm,” Sarah answered easily, giving him a kiss and a slurp of the milkshake. They sat on the couch, knowing smiles on the girls’ faces. Joel stood facing them for a while, wondering what they were up to.

“So… how was it?” Ellie asked, excited to hear about the double date they had instigated.

“It was fine,” Joel said, going to his room to change. The girls followed him all the way into his room, sitting on his bed as he changed in the closet, asking 1001 questions. Whatchu eat? What’d she wear? Who d’you see? Joel came back out shaking his head, going to the kitchen for a glass of water. When he turned from the fridge, the girls were right there, still asking questions. He leaned against the counter, drinking his water, the girls watching him like a hawk. He shook his head, told them what they had ordered, what you wore, and that he saw Angela there, the girls rolling their eyes, only stopping when he told them to be nice. He told them that Maria was cool, they would like her, they would meet her again soon. He finally took a deep breath, head down, and told the girls what happened outside the restaurant.

They were stunned, crestfallen at what had happened. Ellie took her phone out, wanting to text you, but Joel told her not to bother you. It’s late. Tomorrow, he sternly said. “She’s alright, she’s fine, shaken, but she’s fine.”

Sarah was scrolling through her phone, finally stopping. She showed Ellie the phone, the two watching the video in horror.

“What is that?” Joel asked.

“Someone uploaded it – it’s online,” Sarah said, looking concerned.

Fuck.

Joel joined his girls, watching as the small crowd chastise the man, some trying to get you away from him, basically pushing him away from you while some were holding on to you so that he couldn’t pull you with him. He watched as he pulled the man off you, picked you up and placed you in his truck before driving away, and the video was cut off.

He went back to leaning against the counter, his head full of thoughts.

Okay, pros, he thought.

With the exception of the beginning of the video, where the man opened the door and pulled you out, your face was not really visible much. Your hair was in the way, so were the hands and bodies of the people trying to get the man off you.

Secondly, you were not lying. Your feet landed on the sidewalk, but your body landed on the step, but he was going to call you the next day just to be safe. At the very least your body would hurt.

“You doing the pros and cons?” Ellie asked. The girls were used to this. Looking at things from the good and the bad, especially when things like this happened. Joel nodded, looking worried.

“Wait,” Sarah said, scrolling down. “The negative comments were about him. I haven’t seen any negatives about you or Lily so far.”

She continued scanning the comments – any about Joel were positive ones, crooning, cooing ones, even, singing him praises about him taking care of you, making sure you were safe. There were some asking who you were in general, who you were to him, but overall nothing too bad. Nothing you would get upset over, or at least she didn’t think you would be.

She and Ellie remembered one day maybe a couple of years ago, they were hanging out at your truck before going home, having an iced tea after a particularly gruelling game of hide and seek with seven year olds at the rec centre, and some Karen came over asking for a refill on her iced matcha. When you asked for payment, the lady flipped out, whipping her phone out and recording you, yelling that you had swindled her out of her free refill. She remembered thinking, wow, Lil is wayyy too calm for someone being recorded by a Karen. When asked, you simply shrugged, telling her that wasn’t the first time someone recorded you like that.

But would you be as chill about this?

God they hoped so.

Your phone was ringing incessantly by the time you got out of the shower.

“Uncle Bill? Everything alright?”

“What do you mean is everything alright? Is everything alright with you? Why haven’t you picked up ‘til now? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Sheesh Beanie. Scared the living shit out of me. Thank your lucky stars I haven’t called your Mom. You’d better wish she doesn’t know about this.”

You could hear the sounds of scuffling and doors slamming in the background, your uncle’s voice sounding like he had been running, and now relieved to hear your voice. “She answered?” you heard a familiar voice ask.

“Who’s that?” you couldn’t help questioning.

“Never mind who’s that, are you alright?”

“Er… yeah? Why do you ask?”

“Because I just watched a video of you being pulled out of Joel Miller’s truck, that’s why! Are you at the hospital? Did the son a bitch ditch you at the ER and leave?”

“What? No! Uncle Bill, I’m fine, I’m not hurt. He took care of me, he got me out of there. Wait, there are videos online?”

“Yeah, that instant telegram thing *It’s Instagram, Bill, sheesh*.”

“Really, who is that? His voice sounds familiar.”

“Mind your own business, listen, I don’t want you seeing this guy anymore, okay? You got attacked because of him! I’m gonna find out who the other guy is too and sue the living shit out of him. Do you know his name?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, Uncle Bill, I don’t, and no, I will not stop being Joel’s friend. He didn’t make this happen. It’s not his fault there are crazy people in this world. Please don’t freak out, I’m fine.”

“Where are you?” he asked, completely ignoring your pleas. You could hear his truck start up.

“At home, why?”

“He didn’t take you to the ER? I’m gonna kill that guy!”

“He did try to, I’m fine, I didn’t hit my head or anything. Please don’t freak out Uncle Bill, don’t hurt yourself like this. And who is that speaking in the background? Who are you with? Where are you?”

Silence.

“I’m coming over to your place. I need to see you with my own eyes.”

You drew the deepest breath you could manage. “You don’t have to, Uncle Bill, do I sound like I’m seriously injured?”

Silence.

“Uncle Bill?”

You heard him take a deep breath. “I promised your Dad I would take care of you, Beanie. If anything happened to you…” he stopped talking. You could hear his breathing change. Someone took the phone out of his hand.

“Lily, sweetie? Frank here. Are you okay? Are you physically okay? You need help?”

Frank? You glanced at the clock in your room, it’s nearing midnight. A smile came to you. Sure, he and your Uncle Bill had been having lunch a few times at the rec centre, but you didn’t know they’d been spending more time together.

“Hi Frank, yes, I am okay, physically okay, and no, I do not need help.”

“Good, that’s good, but that fall didn’t exactly look soft, sweetie, maybe take an ibuprofen before you go to bed, yeah? And call your Uncle first thing tomorrow – he’s freaking out.”

“I’m not freaking out, Frank.”

“Sure you’re not, baby.”

Baby? Your Uncle Bill? Baby?

Aww…

“So we don’t need to go over?” Frank asked you.

“Definitely not.”

“She’s fine, Bill, let’s give her some space, okay?”

Your Uncle Bill took the phone back, “You sure you okay?”

“Yes, Uncle Bill, I’m okay. You don’t need to come over, okay? Go back to your date,” you tried, just to see if he would divulge anything.

“You know I would drop anything and anyone for you, right?”

“I know Uncle Bill.”

“You’ll call me immediately if you need anything?”

“Yes, Uncle Bill.”

“And you’ll call me tomorrow morning? First thing? Frank doesn’t live far from you so I can get there really quickly.”

“I will, Uncle Bill,” smiling to yourself at the thought of your Uncle Bill having a sleepover.

“K. Love you Beanie.”

“Love you Uncle Bill.”

You hung up, feeling all sorts of warmth at the thought of your Uncle being on a date on Friday night. This was the stoic man who you remembered meeting for the first time as the grumpy looking customer who stared at you as if you were some suspicious ex-con who was working with your Dad to scam his sister out of her trust fund. You had just come in to the café from your first day at Kindy. He had pulled The Bill move on your Dad that day, just like the one he pulled on Dave, sitting at the café with a sourpuss, staring at your Dad as he went about his business as usual, trying to figure out if this café owner his sister was besotted with was the real deal. He had offered you a pinkie when you asked if you could shake his hand, and you took it, shaking it side to side, giggling as if he was the funniest man ever. He absolutely melted for you and was just Uncle Bill once you became a permanent fixture in his sister’s life. He worried for you. He stayed in LA for you, still seeing you as that little girl who he used to give piggybacks to, the one he used to be a toy make-up model for, despite the fact that you were in your forties. He’s the man with the grumpy, stoic face who still threatened to hurt people who hurt you, despite the fact that you knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly.

He was on a date, and he was willing to leave it, after being alone for so long, just to come to you because he saw that video.

You got ready for bed, already way past your bedtime, took the ibuprofen as suggested, and got in bed.

But try as you might, you couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the shock of what happened today, maybe it was worrying for the fact that your Uncle Bill was worried about you, and maybe it was the fact that Joel almost had a panic attack because of what happened.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you couldn’t get what it felt like hugging him close to you out of your head. His warm body against yours, the smell of his cologne in your nose, the way his breathing felt against your body, the way his scruff tickled your neck…

You took your phone out and opened the messaging app. You just needed to see his texts, just because.

He was online.

Joel laid in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He was worried. Worried that you would take offense to the fact that the footage of you being attacked was making the rounds. Worried that you would wake up tomorrow and change your mind, deciding that staying in his life was really not worth the trouble. Sure, you assured him that you didn’t blame him for what happened, but that was before the footage was shared all over. Did you even know? You already hated celebrities, and now because of him, your face was all over the internet. God, he hoped to God that people would leave you alone. Because if you decided to stay away from him…

He closed his eyes and took a deep, deep breath. You hugged him tonight. Never had he felt calmer in his adult life. The memory of you surrounding him like that made his heart slow down, even if just in his mind. He imagined you being there in his bed with him, holding him close, oh… how easy would sleep come to him if that were the case. And if you had had a negative reaction to what happened tonight, he would’ve held you close in his arms instead. He wondered what that would feel like, to have your face in the crook of his neck, your body close to him, what it would be like to caress your back and kiss your hair.

He took another deep breath – whatever possibility of any form of intimacy he might have had with you would be gone now, surely? Especially after you’d seen the footage being spread wide like wildfire?

He opened the messaging app, needing to see something of you, regretting the fact that he didn’t have much to look at when it came to you. He clicked on your thread, wanting to see the smiley face you sent him when he texted you asking for tips on how to brew a cup of coffee.

You were online.

Out of nowhere, a surge of bravado engulfed him. He took a chance.

Joel Miller: Can’t sleep?

His fingers tapped on the sides of his phone,

You: Nope. You?

Joel Miller: Nope.

You: How come?

Because you’re not here in my arms.

Joel Miller: I don’t know. Old age? Stress?

He sent the text and contemplated.

Joel Miller: Can I call you?

Please say yes.

You: Okay.

Never had he worked out how to FaceTime someone faster.

You appeared on his screen, obviously lying on your bed, on your side, phone probably propped up on something. You looked tired, but oh so cozy he wondered if that movie Ellie and Sarah made him sit through only to have their faces pressed up into his sides the whole time had an ounce of reality in it and he could perhaps go into his phone and emerge on the other side?

“Hi,” you greeted, that dimply smile at the ready.

“Hello,” he replied, giving you a sleepy smile himself.

God, you just looked so…

“Is this okay?” he asked, “Me calling you at this hour?”

You nodded, giving him another smile, and Joel wished to God he didn’t have to sleep at all so he could stay on this call with you forever.

Joel woke up the next morning to the Sarah alarm, hardly able to function, but feeling so very happy. The two of you talked for hours, the first hour or so just you trying to convince him you were not phased by the footage, you did nothing wrong. And if someone came after you to harass you for being seen with Joel Miller? Well… you’ll cross that bridge when you come to it, making his heart drop – so, you could still go away? If he somehow found the balls to tell you how he felt, you could still leave?

But then you switched the topic, and all he remembered after was laughing softly with you, making you laugh, comfortable silences, and your breaths and his own, lulling each other to sleep.

He texted you, asking if you feel okay, any body aches? Headaches? He was still worried of side effects from last night’s happening. Your quick reply telling him you were okay made him smile, though you did say you didn’t go in for work that day – you had decided to take two days off – just because. Business as usual Monday, you said. He texted you back, asking if he could call, very difficult to text while cooking, you know?

You called him instead, each of you laughing at how dishevelled you looked early in the morning. Ellie came out just as Joel was getting the eggs to fry, asking you 1001 questions about you, are you alright? Does anything hurt? Are you traumatized? Are you taking more medicine this morning? What are you having? You shouldn’t take your meds on an empty stomach.

It was then Joel heard you tell Ellie you were gonna have ramen for breakfast, you needed to go grocery shopping. Joel placed the egg he was about to crack into the pan back, telling you they were coming with breakfast. No, Lily, we’re coming and sending you breakfast. Let’s go girls. We’re sending Lily breakfast.

You didn’t even have time to protest, the call was cut and less than an hour later, the three Millers were at your doorstep, breakfast for one clutched in Ellie’s hand. She and Sarah checked your person for injuries, asking you over and over if you were okay, despite your insistence that you were.

You asked them all in to join you, Joel blubbering that you needed your rest, they should leave you alone, he was really just dropping off breakfast to you. You pulled the girls inside with you, asking him if he was coming in too. He laughed defeatedly, telling you he’ll be back, their breakfast was in the truck. When he came back, he found the girls studying your arm for some reason, Ellie poking at it with her forefinger, a morbid fascination on her face.

Joel peeked, immediately placing their breakfast on the counter, pushing his girls aside to get to you. He took your arm gently in his hands, looking at it closely.

A huge bruise, the shape of a man’s hand, was clearly stamped on your upper arm – exactly where the man had grabbed you.

“Joel,” you said, pulling your arm away, manoeuvring yourself so he could see your face. He finally did, his eyes dark with anger.

“I’m okay, it’s just bruised. It doesn’t hurt,” you coaxed, not wanting him to worry any more than he needed to.

“I’m gonna find him. I am not letting him get away with this,” he gritted, as Ellie and Sarah watched the interaction with interest. He asked Ellie and Sarah to take pictures of the bruise, just in case. He was on the phone with Tommy, muttering something you couldn’t hear while Ellie and Sarah busied themselves taking pictures. Joel opened the front door to go outside to talk some more, when your Uncle Bill and Frank appeared, bags of breakfast in their hands.

Oh shit.

Your Uncle Bill saw the bruise immediately, his face darkened on the spot. He turned towards Joel, who had hung up with Tommy immediately, head hung down to accept any repercussions from your obviously angry uncle.

“You know this man?” he barked.

“No, I have never seen him,” Joel answered, truthfully.

“We can find out, right?”

“I’m sure we can.”

Bill nodded, asking Ellie and Sarah to show him the pictures of the bruise.

The six of you somehow managed to have a somewhat normal breakfast, chatting and laughing, Joel quieter than he normally was with you. You placed your hand on top of his and squeezed, and each time, a smile would appear on his face, before disappearing again, as if he was deep in thought.

When everything was cleared up, your uncle told you to get dressed. He was taking you to the hospital. You tried to protest, but he insisted, so much so you didn’t dare say no. We needed to do this, so we can sue the living daylights out of this bastard, he said. He told Sarah to download the footage, try to get a clear picture of the guy’s face. Sarah was immediately on it, her fingers moving fast on her phone screen.

“Guys, this is not necessary. Can we just forget this happened?” you didn’t want Joel to worry more than he already was, but no one seemed to be listening to you.

“No, Lily, we have to at least try. Sue him for a dollar if you want to, but he needs to be taught a lesson. People can’t go around pulling people out of trucks and bruise them and get away with it,” Frank coaxed, before your Uncle Bill could say anything.

“He’s right, Lily, go to the hospital. Get this on record at least,” Joel quietly said.

Sarah and Ellie nodded, vehemently.

Okay, you know when you’re beat, “But I’m not going to report this to the police, not yet,” you said. Your uncle nodded, and you hugged the girls goodbye, giving Joel a chaste kiss on his cheek, thanking him for breakfast before going inside to change.

Joel waited until your bedroom door was closed before going to Bill, hands in his pockets, head down, looking into his eyes at the last second, apologizing for putting you in danger.

Bill looked at him in silence for a good minute, studying the younger man, before finally slapping him in the back, “You did what you could. You got her out of there. It’s not your fault,” he said, “Thank you for looking out for her,” he continued, his arm extended for a handshake, which a shocked Joel accepted, nodding slightly. “Continue looking out for her,” Bill finalized, before settling down on the couch to wait for you.

Come Monday, Joel was feeling much better. He spent part of Sunday talking to you as you vacuumed your house, yelling at him over the noise. He laughed, telling you that you needed to invest in headphones so you could talk while doing that, and laughed further as you told him if you were going to invest in anything, it would be for a Roomba.

Tommy came over that Monday morning, telling Joel that Angela had called for an emergency meeting – she’s on her way to Joel’s place. Joel pursed his lips, annoyed that she had done this so last minute. He was planning on keeping you company at the truck that morning, seeing as it was your first day back since the incident.

Oh well, he could always go later. He needed to see you. Not seeing you in person the day before hurt him. And of course, he needed the coffee you made.

Angela arrived, arms laden with breakfast burritos for the Millers. Joel took the bag from her, placing it on the counter, before standing there with his arms crossed and looking at her expectantly.

She pulled the stool from under the counter and sat down.

“Look, I’m not here to argue with you over your contract. You have decided not to renew, and I respect that, but you do have one more year, and it would be great if we could maintain some professionalism until the year ends, is that alright with you two?”

Fair enough. Joel and Tommy both uncrossed their arms and leaned on the kitchen counter, ready to listen to what she was about to say that was so important.

“Until then, I am going to do my job – I am still your agent. Two things. One, the incident Friday night. I have issued a directive for our people to make sure the footage is erased from the internet. For good. We don’t need the negative publicity on this,” she insisted.

“What negative publicity? That man attacked Lily!” Tommy barked. “And how exactly do we get all the footage off the internet?”

“We have our ways. And yes, it is negative publicity, Tommy. Your brother doesn’t exactly have a great history with people with cameras, and neither do you. He assaulted the guy, shattered his phone, he could sue us.”

“Good, at least we’ll know who he is for our own lawsuit,” Tommy countered.

“What lawsuit?”

“Lily was injured. We are going to find the bastard and make him pay.”

“That’s not a good idea. Don’t you see? That will only open up for more negative publicity. He could countersue, start rumours, that footage was half of what happened, what if Joel had started the whole thing? People could make assumptions of what he could have done to provoke the guy, Tommy, and as much as I hate to say it, they’re right. He doesn’t exactly have the best reputation, you know. Let’s not chance it. Best if we just leave this behind us, Tommy. Filing charges takes forever too, the footage might have been lost by then,” she coaxed.

“Not if we have a cop…” Tommy’s words were halted by Joel’s booming voice.

“What’s the second thing?”

Angela’s eyes narrowed, still focused on Tommy, waiting for him to continue.

“You said you came here for two things. That’s number one. What’s the other?” Joel pushed.

“What was Tommy gonna say?”

“Never mind that. What’s the second thing?”

She drew a big breath. “You might want to sit down for this,” she cautiously said.

Joel and Tommy remained standing, unmoving.

“Suit yourselves. But as your agent, I am supposed to look out for your interest. And those two ladies you had dinner with? I had someone look into them – just to make sure they’re legit,” she quickly said, putting her hand up as Tommy straightened, face like thunder.

“And?” Joel casually asked, still leaning on the counter.

Angela took off her glasses, placing them in front of her. She took the deepest breath yet, looking at the men with concern in her eyes.

“It’s not looking good, guys.”

Part 11

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