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dilly-dahlia · 1 month ago

Text

vi. Check

pairing: Gene x Reader

content: pdh, drill team!reader, opposites attract, sunshine/grumpy, feelings (finally), suggestive but not explicit, images used are NOT an indication of the reader's appearance

summary: Practically everyone you knew was pointing out the alleged spark you had with Gene. You denied it every time, but once you're left alone with your own thoughts, you realize that they might not be wrong.

word count: 7.4k

masterlist

The Problem With Popularity masterlist

previous part

There was nothing that could have prepared you for the debate Garroth, Laurance, Dante, and Travis had found themselves entangled in during lunch. You weren’t even sure how you got to this point, but you definitely didn’t want to be part of it.

Somehow, your curious question about whether Garroth or Laurance had a girlfriend (because they had been acting weird lately when the topic was brought up) led to the guys at your lunch table debating who had the most game. So far, it definitely seemed like Garroth and Laurance were in the lead, which was unsurprising. Dante, however, seemed to have fallen dead last among the four of them. He was not very happy about it.

“I have lots of girls that would date me!” His hands were splayed out on the table, and he stuttered as he frantically looked around the lunch room for any familiar faces. “Lori said she likes me.”

“Lori said you were cute but she’d never date you,” you cut in dryly. She’d told you one day in the locker room attempting to get Dante to quit bothering her. You hadn’t done anything about it yet, but Lori hadn’t said anything else to you and Dante had stopped rambling about her.

“What? Why?”

“Maybe because when you were dating your last girlfriend you still flirted with girls,” Laurance suggested. He shrugged, holding his hands up in surrender. “I dunno, though. That’s just a hunch I have.”

“First of all, Daisy said she didn’t want to label it and didn’t care. She turned out to be lesbian anyway, so that doesn’t count.”

“What I’m hearing is you were such a bad boyfriend that she never wanted to like a man again,” Travis said. He had come out of his shell more and often put himself into conversations with the other guys. You were glad for it, but he was more like Dante than you ever imagined.

“Second,” Dante made his voice louder and glared at Travis to shush him, “Laurance, you fumbled Y/n, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

“At least I could pull her.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Dante’s defense and Laurance’s rebuttal. At some point it had been decided that the most significant thing anyone had done in your friend group was date you. You weren’t sure when that happened, but you didn’t mind. You found it amusing that they’d made you the standard, as stupid as it was. Not to mention it boosted your confidence and had helped you during your sophomore year.

“Dante, you need to just face the fact that you aren’t all that,” Garroth said, shrugging. “It’s okay. Not everyone can be the best.”

Dante glared at Garroth. His expression was void of any feeling and it looked like he might have been plotting a murder.

“Well, I’m sure Katelyn would-“

“Nope.” Katelyn was hardly paying attention to the conversation. Most of her attention seemed to be turned toward her phone and the chicken noodle soup that had been served for lunch.

“Aphmau, if I asked you out, you'd accept, right?”

“Wow, uhm. Look at that.” The freshman looked down at her wrist, clicking her tongue at the time displayed on her imaginary watch. “I have to go.”

Aphmau stood up, lifting her tray from the table and hurrying over to the trash. She lingered there for a moment, but she had left her backpack, so you knew she would be back.

Travis reached over to aggressively pat Dante on the back. “Sucks, man.”

“Travis, you don’t know how to talk to girls.”

“And yet girls love my awkward charm.”

Dante rolled his eyes, looking around the room before his gaze landed on you. You raised your brows at him, daring him to continue with his poorly thought out plan. Aphmau returned to her spot just as he started talking.

“I’m sure Y/n would date me.” He pointed to you, sounding slightly exasperated.

The thought made you laugh. Loudly. You and Dante? It was ridiculous to you. As you lifted your water bottle to your lips, you said, “In your dreams.”

Katelyn snickered. “Maybe if you were your brother,” Her tone was teasing. She glanced up and laughed at the sight of you coughing on water.

“Katelyn! That was one time,” you exclaimed. Your voice was slightly hoarse from coughing, and you cleared your throat to get rid of the scratchy feeling. You shook your head, reaching to lightly hit her arm. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, my god, Gene?” Dante seemed appalled. You weren’t sure why, since it had been brought up multiple times that you and Gene appeared to have a thing going on. Though Dante did tend to forget things, even if he paid attention.

Laurance leaned forward and you found yourself wanting to curl up and disappear. Just poof out of existence. “What does that mean?” He asked you instead of Katelyn, his blue gaze unwavering from yours. It felt like he was staring deep into your soul, learning every single one of your secrets without your having to say anything.

Katelyn, as oblivious to tone and atmosphere as she often was, laughed. “Me, her, and Sasha made a hear me out cake a while ago and she put Gene on it.”

You thanked God she didn’t mention the tangent you had gone on the previous Sunday. The one where you told her you didn’t know what was happening, but that every time you found yourself with Gene you were smiling more and butterflies flapped in your stomach. If she did, you knew it would have been over for you. That was something you would never live down and you’d face judgement for the rest of your life.

“It wasn’t, like, an admission to a crush or anything!” you quickly added. Your voice was shaky. It was clear you were nervous and you hoped your friends couldn’t tell that you were getting hot. “It’s a hear me out cake, so I was saying, like . . . y’know. Hear me out. Maybe if Gene wasn’t a complete jerk I’d . . .”

You trailed off, finding that your sad attempt at defending yourself was crashing and burning and Dante and Laurance and everyone else’s faces slowly twisted into varying expressions of surprise and disgust. You covered your mouth, hoping the physical barrier would be better than your self conscious filter at making you not speak.

“She said she’d”—Katelyn imitated the hand motion you made to her weeks ago. Immediately you reached over to smack her hand down and hold it beneath the table.

“I did not do that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No. You were tired and seeing things.”

“No, you definitely did that.”

“Can we get back to how Y/n would date Gene?” Laurance cut in. His brows were pulled together, his gaze was flicking between you and Katelyn, though it always lingered longer on you.

“Yeah, I want to know why you’d rather go out with my brother than me,” Dante added. He leaned forward as well, his arms crossed in a judging manner.

“Okay, I never said I would date Gene.” You rolled your eyes. You had started using your hands to try and paint a picture, but it only ended up being a slop of random motions. “I only admitted that I think he’s attractive.”

“So you think I’m ugly?” Dante asked.

You furrowed your brows and side eyed him. You paused your train of thought to process his words and carefully consider your next words so you didn’t make an even deeper hole for yourself. “I never said that.”

“But I wasn’t on the hear me out cake.”

You grumbled something unintelligible, dropping your head and splaying your hands over your face. After a moment, you lifted your head and clapped your hands. “Just because you were not on the hear me out cake doesn’t mean anything! It’s called a hear me out, so you hear me out about different people and/or objects!”

“Objects?” Travis muttered. It was more to himself, though, as his question went unheard.

“It’s not supposed to be a universally accepted thing, and you guys weren’t supposed to know about it anyway,” you finished, letting out a huff. “But just because I put Gene on there doesn’t mean-“

“I feel like that warrants the jar,” Dante said bluntly. Your jaw dropped, and you stared at him for a moment.

“What?”

“I feel like I should be able to call the jar on you because you’re saying my brother-“

“Oh, my god Dante! It was a theoretical situation!”

“It was a hear me out cake so you deliberately chose him beforehand!” Dante crossed his arms, leaning forward on the table. His gaze was unwavering. So much so that it almost scared you. “Jar.”

You scoffed in defiance, but once Garroth and Travis chimed in that Dante was right, you reluctantly dug the bedazzled jar from your bag.

“You guys are terrible,” you mumbled to yourself, counting out seven ones and shoving them in the glass.

“More.”

“What?”

“This is Gene we’re talking about, Y/n,” Laurance added. Since when did he have Dante’s side? Well, obviously he was but why was he only just now voicing it? “He’s a terrible person and has bothered almost every single person at this table.”

“Yeah, and he’s my brother.”

“Oh, my goodness. I know he’s your brother, Dante,” you groaned, fishing a crumpled ten out of your wallet and dropping it in as well. “That’s all I have,” you said, capping the jar and shoving it back in your backpack. “There. Happy?”

You looked to Dante for approval. You scoffed at the sight of the grimace on his face. “I guess if that’s all you have,” he sighed.

You rolled your eyes, standing to take your tray to the wash station just as the bell rang. “You are so dramatic.”

Once you had walked over and set your dirty bowl and tray into their designated spots, you waited by the hallway entrance for Garroth, Laurance, and Aphmau to catch up. You debated just leaving them behind and continuing to sixth period on your own, though, since they (mainly Laurance) would be questioning you relentlessly.

You spent too long thinking about it and found yourself stepping in time with the three of them. Just as you predicted, the entire walk and majority of the class was spent grilling you about your feelings.

You claimed they were nonexistent.

They didn’t believe you.

—

“You know,” Lucinda began. She took a long pause in her sentence, using a drawn out sip of her sweet tea to bridge the gap between her words. “Studies show the more time you spend with someone the more you like them.”

Both you and Katelyn slowly blinked at her from across the booth. The two of you sat in silence, your food momentarily forgotten as you tried to figure out why that was relevant to the conversation.

“What does that even mean?” Katelyn finally asked, her brows furrowed. “Obviously the more time you spend with someone the more you like them.”

“What were we even talking about to prompt that?” you cut in, scraping the sides of the pink ice cream cup in your hand with a spoon.

Lucinda shrugged, setting her foam cup down on the table again. She spent a second swirling it around, distracted by the sounds of ice clinking together. It was clear there were multiple things on her mind, though from the way she let out a dejected sigh made you think she had settled for talking about something heavier.

“I don’t know,” she mused, propping her head against her hand. She stared at the expanse of wall behind yours and Katelyn’s heads, her gaze seeming far off. “Just thinking that the opposite might be true, too.”

You raised a brow, sharing a glance with Katelyn. Neither of you were sure how to respond to her revelation, so you just kept quiet until Lucinda continued.

“Is there something wrong with me?” she suddenly asked. Your eyes widened and you instinctively reached across the restaurant table to take Lucinda’s hand.

“What? Of course not. Why would there be something wrong with you?” Beside you, Katelyn straightened in her seat and pursed her lips. She was being uncharacteristically quiet, and if Lucinda weren’t about to experience a crisis you might have commented on it.

“Just . . . Ivan-”

Katelyn groaned, tilting her head back. “Luz, I’ve told you a million times-”

“I know! I know.” Lucinda sighed again, fully leaning against the table now. “But he didn’t exactly . . . do anything this time. I just- I don’t know if I like him. Anymore, at least. I think I did, but now it’s . . .”

She made a vague spinning motion with her hand. Clearly her brain was too scrambled to actually form a fully coherent thought, but now that she had partially laid her woes before you, it was understandable.

And it made sense—Lucinda had been acting weird lately. You noticed it was a gradual thing, but over the past couple weeks her usual bubbly and playful personality had been slowly diminishing. You had never commented on it, assuming it was just a natural shift in her mood, but now knowing that Ivan had something to do with it made sense.

Which you should’ve known, really. She hadn’t talked about him without being prompted by someone else for weeks. Normally she would’ve let at least something about her relationship with him slip, whether accidentally or not.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Lucinda continued. “We decided to go on a break a while ago. The break was supposed to end earlier this week, but being on it made me feel . . .”

“Relieved?” Katelyn offered when Lucinda trailed off.

“Like you could do whatever you want?” you added.

Lucinda was silent for a moment, taking in your words before slowly nodding. “Yeah. Which is weird to me because people also say that the more time you spend away from a person, the more you miss them. Like the getting to know and liking someone thing I said earlier. But when Ivan and I went on this break, I realized that I don’t really want him.”

“Maybe you’ve been forcing yourself to like him,” you suggested. It wouldn’t have been surprising, to you or Katelyn or anyone else for that matter. Looking from the outside in, it didn’t seem like Ivan and Lucinda even liked each other. “I mean, I can’t even remember the last time you said something positive about him.”

“He asked me to homecoming. Made me a cute sign,” Lucinda reminded, though the attempt to paint Ivan in a positive light seemed less than half-hearted.

“Yeah, after you begged him to,” Katelyn pointed out. “And that sign was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. It was so low effort, Lucinda. I’m surprised you even accepted.”

Lucinda let out a heavy sigh, though she didn’t seem too disappointed. And knowing her, it was entirely possible that she had already drawn a conclusion herself—she just wanted the affirmation from her closest friends.

She laid against her crossed arms on the table. For a few minutes, the three of you stayed completely silent as she ran through a million thoughts on her own. You continued to scrape the sides of your ice cream cup and Katelyn savored each fry she dipped into her strawberry milkshake. The two of you let your friend stew in her own emotions before she finally sat back up. Neither you or Katelyn drew attention to her reddened eyes, and you pretended that the brief wipe she gave them was just to fix her lashes.

“Enough about me,” she said, her voice coming out quieter than she wanted. She cleared her throat before leaning forward again, propping her head against her fist once more. “What’s going on with you two?”

Katelyn shrugged, taking Lucinda’s question and previous grievance as an invitation to talk about her own. “Jeffory and I are arguing.”

Lucinda furrowed her brows, leaning forward. “Oh, my god. What about?”

Katelyn rolled her eyes, waving her hand as if she wanted to dismiss the topic (like she wasn’t the one that brought it up). “How nice he is. What else?”

“What happened?” you asked, turning your head toward her.

“He just is so . . . good.” Katelyn blinked, trying to find another way to describe it but ultimately failing. “I mean, you know how he is. Nice to everyone, even if they’re bothering him or being rude. There’s this girl.”

Lucinda scrunched her nose. “Oh. Talya?”

Katelyn nodded, an exaggerated motion to portray her annoyance at the situation. “Yes. She so obviously likes him, but he doesn’t see it even though I’ve told him.” Katelyn groaned, leaning back and tilting her head against the wall behind her. “And I keep telling him I don’t like that he keeps talking to her, but he just- He can’t be mean to her, is what he says.”

You and Lucinda both hum in consideration, taking in Katelyn’s words and choosing your own carefully. It could be hard when she vented to you—she would get herself so worked up and then the smallest things would make her tick like a bomb and explode. It was something she was working on, as well as her patience. But, well, she was getting impatient with it.

“Well, that is the kind of person Jeffory is,” you carefully started, your words coming out slowly as if it would lessen the blow. “You knew that before you started dating. You also told me that was part of the reason you liked him.”

Katelyn let out a loud sigh and rolled her eyes. “I mean, yeah, I did. But now it’s getting on my nerves. And . . . God, he’s so patient. He’s never gotten mad at me.”

You furrowed your brows and exchanged a glance with Lucinda. “Isn’t that good?”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect. Imagine having a boyfriend that doesn’t get mad at you.”

Katelyn deadpanned, glaring at you both. She rolled her eyes again as she dipped a fry into her milkshake. “You guys know what I mean. I obviously don’t need someone that gets upset as easily as I do, but it’d also be nice to have someone challenge me every now and then.”

“So you’re less upset that he won’t tell Talya to leave him alone and more mad that he’s just . . . passive?” you said, leaning against the table. You had scraped the edges of your cup completely clean, so you put the empty paper cup on the tray with the rest of the food that had been finished.

“No. I’m still upset that he won’t tell Talya to buzz off.”

“I think him being passive is a big part of that,” Lucinda commented. Katelyn rolled her eyes in response and waved her off.

“Okay, Lucinda. Every time you’ve told me about when Ivan talks to other girls, he at least tries to defend himself. Jeffory just doesn’t. He just apologizes for making me feel that way and then moves on.”

Lucinda softly hummed and shut her mouth. She wouldn’t be saying anything anymore—at least not about Katelyn.

“So that might just be a different conversation you need to have with him,” you suggested, breaking the tense silence that had entered the air. “Because it sounds more like you just want him to argue with you instead of just brushing off your feelings.”

Katelyn sighed. The tips of her ears reddened and she was starting to talk with her hands more. “I don’t want him to argue with me I just want him to respond! He never- He always gives me space to process what I’m thinking and I don’t always want that, I want him to engage.” She huffed, running her hands through her hair. “I don’t even want to completely argue, I want to banter with him. Like you and Gene, Y/n.”

Lucinda perked up at the slight shift in topic. You, on the other hand, scoffed.

“Gene and I don’t banter,” you said. “We just have normal conversations. As friends.”

“Well whatever you and Gene have, I want it,” Katelyn said. “There’s chemistry there, there’s interaction. I want a response from Jeffory. Not just a . . . Let’s come back to this.” She sighed again, slumping in her seat and fully leaning against the wall. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled, trying to calm herself down.

You reached over to grab her hand and gave it a soft squeeze. When Katelyn started to get like this, you found that the best way to ground her was through physical touch. It didn’t have to be anything big—just holding onto her in some way. She returned the squeeze you gave, letting out another heavy breath.

“Call what you have with Gene whatever you want,” she started after a moment, meeting your gaze, “but there’s something there. The two of you have this . . . weird spark. I might not like him but I’m not blind like Laurance or some of our other friends.”

Your brows raised and your eyes widened. You hadn’t expected this to turn on you, and you definitely hadn’t expected that to be the thing Katelyn seemed the most level-headed about. Though, you supposed that was a good thing since Lucinda took Katelyn’s comment as an invitation to direct the conversation in a different direction to try and take Katelyn’s mind off her own problems.

“Gene and I aren’t . . .” You paused. Weren’t what? It didn’t matter because Lucinda’s smooth voice slipped into the empty gap.

“You and him have been spending a lot of time together,” she said, wiggling her brows at you.

Your expression straightened. You’d had this conversation before, right? “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure it does.” Lucinda waved your weak defense off, taking a slow sip of her sweet tea. “People don’t typically spend time with people they don’t like.”

“Okay, then I like him, just not like that,” you replied, lifting your hands in a so what? motion. Lucinda rolled her eyes in response.

“Please, Y/n. I could feel the tension between you two from Dante’s couch on Sunday. The two of you were practically soaked in desire.” Both yours and Katelyn’s faces scrunched in disgust. “Okay, maybe that was a bad description. But I’m serious! You and Gene have something going on when no one else is looking, I can feel it.”

After a moment of stunned silence, Katelyn managed to laugh. She rolled her eyes as she drank the last of her milkshake before setting the tall glass to the side. “As unnecessarily explicit as Lucinda’s description was”—she turned her head to face you, her expression not doing anything to hide the reluctance she held in agreeing—“there is definitely something.”

You scoffed, looking at both your friends in disbelief. How else were you supposed to look at them when they suggested something as ridiculous as that? You certainly weren’t going to be bowing at their feet, praising them for their insight. Especially not when their insight was so poor and practically non existent.

When neither of their expressions wavered—when they kept that same unyielding look of certainty—you couldn’t help but scoff again. You truly couldn’t think of another way to react.

“There is nothing!” you eventually decided to say, throwing your hands up. “Gene and I are just friends. I’m not interested in him romantically, and he doesn’t even–”

“Yeah, that’s why you nearly broke down on the ride home Sunday,” Katelyn mumbled. After the words left her mouth, her gaze wandered. It was almost like she was looking for whoever had said that.

“Katelyn!” Lucinda laughed as you hit Katelyn’s shoulder, and you practically watched the lightbulb go off over Lucinda’s head.

She gasped dramatically and spread her arms across the dining table, leaning forward slightly. “Oh, my goodness. You do!”

“Do what?” You really didn’t need to ask. You knew.

“The first stage is denial, Y/n. And you are deep in that stage right now.”

You sputtered. Apparently, choosing to hang out with your friends would leave you so appalled that you forgot how to speak. “Am not!”

“Yuh-huh.” Lucinda nodded in a very exaggerated fashion. “And I have more evidence. Not only were the two of you being weird on Sunday, but I totally saw your face when he was talking to Lacy.”

Your cheeks heated and your eyes widened. Somehow you managed to cough up an argument. “Who even is Lacy?”

You were possibly the worst actress to exist on the planet. There was no way Lucinda or Katelyn would hear your shaky voice and actually believe you had no clue what they were talking about. Lucinda’s expression said as much, but before she could get the rest of her words out, you jumped in.

“Okay, I wasn’t looking at him, I was . . . Just wondering what they were talking about. Totally normal”

Lucinda hummed, though the pitch of it made you uncomfortable. “Say what you want, but I saw you. I saw your eyes and the way you stared Lacy down.”

“I love Lacy!” you suddenly exclaimed, not wanting to seem like you just disliked the girl. “She’s just a sweet freshman. If anything, I was making sure Gene wasn’t trying to blackmail her or date her or something . . .”

“Why would he want to date Lacy?” Katelyn asked, pushing her empty glass down the table and toward the growing pile of trash.

“I don’t think Gene’s interested in a freshman so much as he’s interested in a certain junior,” Lucinda softly sang, completely ignoring Katelyn’s question. You rolled your eyes, and instead of responding you gathered all the trash on the table and piled it on top of your food tray.

“You are both ridiculous,” you said, standing up. You carefully lifted the restaurant tray in your hands, making sure nothing would fall off before taking it to the trash. You put everything in its designated area—trash in the chute, Katelyn’s milkshake glass upside down on the counter, and finally the tray atop the can. When you returned to the table, you didn’t sit back down.

“I have to get going,” you said, grabbing your purse from where you had sat and wrapping it around yourself. You searched through it for everything you needed as you spoke. “Gene told me about sixish for meeting at Sasha’s and she lives kind of far.”

“Aw, she’s spending the night with Gene,” Lucinda mused. Katelyn did not seem impressed. She gave a mirthless hum and pulled out her phone instead. Taking note of Katelyn’s disinterest, Lucinda playfully swatted at her. “Katelyn, be excited. This is the first guy Y/n’s been interested in since Laurance.”

“Yeah, and she chose probably the worst choice she could have,” Katelyn reasoned, rolling her eyes. “Excuse me if I’m not excited.”

“Oh, my god.” You zipped up your purse, probably more aggressively than you realized. “Guys, for the last time, nothing is going on. Gene and I are just friends.”

Both girls hummed in disbelief, a perfectly synchronised reaction that made them both chuckle. You rolled your eyes (really, how had they not fallen out of your head?) before giving them a brief goodbye and leaving.

You didn’t start driving once you got in your car. You spent a moment just sitting there, taking in a moment—feeling the fresh air from the vents against your skin, watching a couple people walk to their cars, admiring the last of the sun’s golden rays, Laufey’s “Promise” playing from your car speakers. It was a slow moment. Nothing was happening. Nothing needed your immediate attention. You just breathed.

Which you felt like you needed. Non stop for the past week you had been fighting arguments about your alleged relationship with Gene. Constantly telling Laurance and Garroth and whoever else asked that no, you weren’t in love with (or even romantically interested in) Gene. You shut down Travis’s entirely inappropriate remark about you and Gene fucking, which you had promptly smacked him across the face and yelled at him for. After that, you refused to talk or acknowledge him for two and a half days before he presented a box of chocolates to you and begged for an apology during your second period. He ended up putting a hundred dollars in the jar as retribution. All week you had been ignoring the passing comments you heard in the halls, which proved to be incredibly difficult. People were bad at minding their business and keeping their opinions to themselves. Any time someone brought it up, you would vehemently deny anything they said. Total strangers had started approaching you, asking if Gene was really as bad as his reputation said.

It was getting overwhelming. No part of you liked it. You had considered cutting everything off with Gene entirely, but that would also affect your relationship with Sasha. You didn’t want that.

Not to mention that, as much as you denied it to anyone that said anything, you had grown to enjoy Gene’s company. The more time you spent with him the more he showed you small parts of himself that you doubted he let anyone else see. His downturned smile, for example. You hadn’t seen him give that genuine smile to anyone except you, and even then he kept it confined to when the two of you were alone or only around Sasha and Zenix. No one else.

During the conversations you had under the moon—when it was late and neither of you could sleep and you found yourselves texting each other because you knew the other would respond—both of you let yourselves go, just a little. Gene had confided in you that he hated his dad, who always found a reason to be out of the house. That he felt bad for hating his dad because his mom still loved him more than anything. You had admitted that you felt Phoenix Drop wasn’t the place for you. That, despite your popularity and how many people were kind to you, you found your high school and the entire city to be shallow and unwelcoming.

“That’s just Phoenix Drop High. A bunch of stuck up rich kids that think they’re better than everyone else. Don’t worry about that,” he told you, his voice low so he didn’t wake his sleeping family. “You’re a magnet. There might be really shitty people, but you also attract the good ones. Like Sasha.”

And you had gone silent for a moment. Of course there were a couple good people. Like Sasha, but also like Katelyn and Lucinda and Aphmau and your entire friend group, really. Even if they were stuck up rich kids, they were good at their cores.

In that silence between the two of you, the only noise passing through being the soft buzz of the phone line, you took in Gene’s words. There were good people—even ones that seemed unlikely.

“Like you,” you had replied. Your voice was soft, and if Gene didn’t know you he might’ve thought you were hesitant to say it. Or that you didn’t mean it.

But you did. He knew you did. His breath had hitched—so quietly that it was entirely possible to think you had imagined it. Another moment of silence enveloped the two of you as he took in your words. In the quiet, you had started to run your finger against the seam of your stuffed chicken. Had you said the wrong thing?

“Yeah.” His voice finally broke the silence, quiet and low in a way that was different than it had been. It was almost disbelieving. “If that’s what you wanna believe, bunny.”

So yes, you had grown to enjoy his company. Weirdly, Gene had become some sort of rock for you—someone you could confide in and tell things that you were hesitant to admit even to Katelyn.

But you didn’t like him. No, you really didn’t. You had just become fond of him. You weren’t going to let what anyone said gaslight you into liking him (or admitting that you did like him). A similar thing had happened with Laurance, and look how that turned out. You’d cried in your room for weeks and dug yourself into a hole that had been nearly impossible to climb out of.

So no. You wouldn’t let yourself like Gene. You were declaring Gene Accardi off limits for a million reasons. He had a horrendous reputation, none of your friends liked him, he was Dante’s brother.

Falling for Gene was a terrible move. If life were a game of chess, then making that move would get yourself checkmated before you could even do anything about it. With everyone’s assumptions and words, you were in check. You needed to move and keep your king safe.

Unfortunately, you never could grasp the concept of chess.

—

Sasha’s house was just as homey on the inside as it was outside. There was a number of plants everywhere, climbing up the walls outside and flowering into pretty blooms inside. It would have felt cluttered if the house weren’t so big.

It was Sasha’s mom that had met you at the door. She’d told you to call her Zizi and to remove your shoes in the foyer before she led you to a windowless room. It was mostly empty, but in the middle there was an array of blankets and pillows arranged in what you could only describe as a nest of some sort. Zenix, Gene, and Sasha were either sitting or lying on the blankets, and the three of them were scrolling through a long list of movies.

Zenix was the only one that initially turned at the sound of the door opening. He offered you an awkward smile and wave, greeting you to bring attention to the fact that you were even there.

Gene turned next. You might have imagined it, but at the sight of you his eyes lit up. You gave them a soft smile before fully entering the room, closing the door behind you and setting your old backpack down on the mass of pillows.

“What is that?” Gene asked as you tossed your stuffed Stardew Valley chicken to Sasha. Her entire expression lit up once she was hit with it, and immediately she held it in her arms tight.

“It’s a stuffed chicken, Gene,” you replied. You kept your tone straight to emphasize that it was an obvious fact. Zenix snickered, which you considered a win since you figured he was pretty stone faced and quiet about most things. He was probably why Gene knew so much about everyone.

“Obviously it’s a chicken, Y/n.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“Because who has a giant chicken?”

“Uhm. Me, obviously.” You rolled your eyes, settling yourself on the blankets next to Gene.

“Are you disrespecting Benedict?” Sasha asked. When you looked over she was looking at Gene with a raised brow and a nasty side eye, covering the chicken’s eyes like she was protecting it from an unseemly sight.

“Who the hell is Benedict?”

“The chicken!” you and Sasha exclaimed at the same time.

“What kind of name is Benedict?”

“Like eggs benedict, Gene. You idiot,” Zenix cut in. You were grateful for it because finally, someone who understood the joke in the name without you needing to explain it.

“Because chickens lay eggs,” Sasha added.

Gene blinked at the three of you before softly shaking his head and laying back on the blankets. “I think you three are a little”—he whistled, lifting his hand to tap his temple—“up here.”

You smacked Gene with a nearby pillow, making Sasha and Zenix burst out laughing. In response, Gene got a firm grip on the pillow—his hands above yours, his callouses rubbing against your skin—and pulled you forward. You slid over him without much fight, yelping when he pulled the pillow out of your hands and laid an arm across your waist to keep you down as he tossed it out of your reach.

“You’re a brat,” he said, though it was through a laugh and his tone was lighthearted. You tried wiggling out of his grasp, but Gene kept a stubborn arm around you.

“And you’re mean,” you laughed. You kicked until you could finally shift away. You rolled over, out of Gene’s reach and sat back up. You were still laughing, so you missed the conspiratorial glance Sasha and Zenix shared.

On the TV—a big one, and you only realized then that Sasha had a proper movie room with a surround sound system—your other two friends had pulled up Sasha’s personal collection of movies. Ones she owned based on the word OWNED in the upper left corner.

“Okay, guys. What are we watching?” Sasha asked.

“The Shining.”

“Terrifier.”

It went silent for a moment, the trio of troublemakers looking over at you expectantly. Your eyes widened upon the realization that they were waiting for your answer. You blinked at them, thinking. They probably wanted you to say some sort of horror movie.

“I’m gonna be honest,” you started, holding your hands up in surrender, “the only scary movies I’ve ever seen is Scream and a 1920 silent film version of Phantom of the Opera.”

Sasha snickered. “Of course you’ve only seen Scream.”

You glared at her. You considered saying something, but Zenix unknowingly saved Sasha from whatever retort you had.

“Isn’t Phantom of the Opera a romance?” he asked, brows furrowed in skepticism.

“Actually”—you saw Gene roll his eyes in your peripheral, and you playfully swatted his shoulder—”it wasn’t really considered a romance until Andrew Lloyd Webber turned it into a musical. Before that the takes on it were mostly horror.”

Zenix hummed. He seemed indifferent to the information. Then again, he always seemed that way. He wasn’t very inclined to make many expressions or talk, at least not when you were around.

Who knew. Maybe he was different when it was just Gene and Sasha.

“So have you never seen any Tim Burton movies?” Gene asked, tilting his head back to look at you. He still laid on the floor next to you.

“Well, yeah. But I wouldn’t say Tim Burton is scary. It’s more creepy, you know,” you reasoned, shrugging. Gene nodded thoughtfully, probably going through an internal list of other movies

“Okay. Since our precious Y/n is new to horror”—Sasha reached over and gave you an affectionate pat on the head—“our options are now Christine and The Sixth Sense. Any preference?”

“Christine’s good.”

“Yeah. Nice and unsettling.”

“Christine it is.”

You raised a brow, looking between the three of them. Just like three peas in a pod, they were. “Christine?”

“Yup. It’s about a car that kills people because it’s jealous,” Gene mused. You knew he was watching for your reaction to the information because he laughed at your furrowed brows and slightly agape lips.

“What?” That was really the only thing that could express how you felt. It encapsulated it perfectly, actually. “What do you mean a car gets jealous?”

Sasha shushed you. “Watch the movie.”

She turned your head to the TV, where the movie had already started and the camera followed a factory line of old fashioned cars, before standing up to turn off the overhead light. You paid attention, watching with intrigue as the cherry red car cruised along the screen. You gasped when the car’s hood slammed down on a worker’s hand. Your jaw dropped when a different employee stepped inside it and was shown dead because of it just a few clips later.

Okay, an angry car was understandable now. But how was it jealous?

You got your answer a couple minutes later.

At some point, Sasha’s mom came into the room with a tray of arranged snacks and drinks. She set it down on the edge of the pile of blankets before leaving after all four of you had thanked her. By the time the movie ended, your eyebrows had furrowed in disbelief so much you were starting to get a headache.

“Never in my life did I think I would witness a car experiencing jealousy,” you said as the credits rolled. You softly shook your head. “If you told me this morning I would be watching a movie about a killer car I would’ve called you crazy and whacked you over the head.”

“Did you like it at least?” Zenix asked. You didn’t know how to answer his question because yes, you did enjoy it. More than you had anticipated. You did not like how there was no explanation for why the car was evil. Were you just supposed to believe it was made bad and not possessed? Surely there was something else.

You ended up nodding because your enjoyment from it outweighed your questions. Truth be told, you’d probably never think about it again.

The four of you continued watching movies until early morning Saturday. It was nearly three in the morning by the time you decided it was time to leave. As you gathered your things and your trash to throw away on the way out, Gene offered to drive you home. You politely refused, and instead he insisted on at least walking to your car.

The very short walk from Sasha’s TV room to your used car was more awkward than you wanted it to be and seemed to take centuries. Never in your life had you felt more tense, and it was all because this silent moment with Gene reminded you of all the shit you had been asked throughout the week. All the people commenting on the alleged spark you and him had.

You told yourself it didn’t exist until Gene held open the driver side door for you. Then you told yourself he was just being a gentleman because he was rich and was probably raised that way.

He tapped on the glass when you turned the car on. You rolled the window down and he leaned forward, crossing his arms against the frame of the car.

“You didn’t have to walk me to my car, Gene,” you said, leaning back in your seat. Your hands were settled in your lap, and to avoid fidgeting with anything you quietly tapped your hands against your thighs.

Gene shrugged. “I wanted to. You never know what kind of big bad wolves are out here.” You rolled your eyes at his jest, moving to jokingly roll the window back up before his hand intercepted yours. It was warm, just like your face was slowly becoming. “Fair tomorrow?”

You nodded, hoping it shook you out of whatever stupor holding his hand had put you in. “Obviously. I love the Fall Festival.”

Gene smiled. “Alright. I’ll come pick you up at ten?”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” You really didn’t want to be in an enclosed space with Gene. Not when so many detrimental things were making themselves apparent to you.

“I’m driving Sasha and Zenix anyway.” He let go of your hand, straightening up to his usual height. “I don’t mind. I’ll come pick you up at ten.”

You weren’t really given much of a choice to respond because after saying that, Gene turned and stared back to Sasha’s house. You watched in slight disbelief, appalled that he would just leave you like that, as he stepped up onto her porch.

“Okay!” you shouted after him. You waved your arm out the window in a what the hell? motion. Your expression would have added to the display, but unfortunately it was dark and Gene couldn’t see you clearly through the window tint.

At least he waited until you were out of the driveway to walk back into the yellow house. The jerk.

A jerk you wouldn’t mind spending even more time with. Alone.

The thought crossed your mind without realization, and you were left driving down the road in a trancelike state. What was that supposed to mean? Obviously you didn’t mind spending more time with him. Gene was your friend. You liked your friends and often wanted to spend time with them.

You pulled up to a red light and pulled to a stop, debating whether or not you wanted to call him upon your arrival home. As you considered it, your thoughts crashed into each other like two freight trains as the most obvious revelation seemed to finally dawn on you.

You liked Gene. Fuck.

You resisted the urge to honk your horn in frustration.

double update what??? who am I???

y'all gonna like the next chapter trust. I have big plans

TAGGING: @garrothswiferealnotfake @wasting-away-on-the-internet @mellozhi @pushingdaisies1 @orinlin @luckygirldotgov @snowblossomsx @lucciluvr @oliemolliever @endo-bunny @purpledsun @angelhyperfixates @angelarabella @dontcrackyourpinkytoes @siochandess @flynnbee @neptunesfantasies @natpakk @thehumanartist @khoizen @baguettetaylorsversion @tomzgutz @revxwrites @fartmonster98 @1-800-avs @afellow-simp if you’d like to be part of the taglist let me know!

next part >>

#dahlia’s dreams ☾#aphmau #aphverse #aphblr #mystreet #pdh #phoenix drop high #gene mystreet #gene minecraft diaries #phoenix drop high gene #gene phoenix drop high #gene pdh #aphmau gene #gene x reader #aphmau gene x reader #gene aphmau x reader #gene aphmau #minecraft diaries gene

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gonedreaminggg · 11 months ago

Text

Laurance Zvahl's Hair

this wasn't supposed to happen. i promise. it just appeared in my drafts.

but, as promised, here is almost 2000 words about Laurance Zvahl's hair. (with some garrance sprinkled in there for the crazies 😏)

Laurance and his hair go way back. When he was a kid, it was always messy. He'd get dirt and grime in it and Hayden would always just shake his head and tell him to bathe when he got home from playing all day. His light brown locks would get so long in between haircuts, and the longer it was the more likely it was to get matted. So Hayden would cut it very very short, stopping right behind his ears.

But, he'd be able to escape Hayden's scissors every once in a while. If something was amiss in the village, it would take up all of Hayden's time. So, he managed to grow it out long again.

Until one day, when Laurance was 8. Him and Cadenza were playing in the backyard, and she pushed him a bit harder than she thought. He ended up crashing into the chicken wire fence. His hair got all tangled up in it, and he was stuck. Cadenza was all panicked, apologizing profusely as she yelled for their father. Hayden grabbed his scissors and cut Laurance free from the fence. It was super super short, shorter than it had ever been. And super choppy, too.

After that, Laurance was terrified of haircuts. He never let anyone cut his hair ever again. And at this time in his life, he was getting more curious about his parents. And his heritage. There were people still in Meteli that knew his parents. They were Tu'layan immigrants, much like most of the population in Meteli. He wanted to know more about Tu'la and its culture. One of the things he learned was the superstitions they had about hair. There's an intense spiritual connection to it. It's a part of their spirit. It holds their strength and confidence. It connects them to the land around them.

After that, Laurance definitely did not want to cut his hair. In respect for his parents and his heritage. He also truly believed that it held his strength. If he wanted to be a guard, or a lord, he needed his strength. He grew it out for years. When he meets Aphmau, the last time he had cut his hair was the whole chicken wire fiasco. It was so insanely long, and damaged from the dye Cadenza had put in it. He usually held it in a messy braid, just to keep it cleaner. And yes, he finally learned how to take care of his hair in the years he'd been growing it.

When he was at the guard academy, he had no clue what to do with his hair. He had the longest hair out of the boys. The girls training there called him “wasted potential.” Which had nothing to do with his fighting skills, by the way. He was already climbing the ranks in his first two years there. Eventually, one of the girls took pity on him, and gave him a bottle of conditioner. She taught him how to do the towel wrap thingy, which he thought was literal magicks.

After that, girls literally started flocking around him and Garroth. And he earned his flirtatious attitude from that. He never had a girlfriend at the guard academy, but he did get around.

Garroth was very intrigued by his hair. He’d never seen a boy with hair so long. He asked Laurance why he kept it long. To him, it seemed more like a pain than anything. When he talked to Garroth, it was the first and really only time he explained everything about his hair. What it meant to him, why he had started growing it out in the first place, and his complete disdain for chicken wire fences. Garroth understood, but still questioned how difficult it might be when fighting. Laurance never gave him an answer.

Cadenza had also taught him how to braid his hair. Around the time they were 18, Laurance’s hair was so unruly, but he was absolutely not gonna let her cut it. So, she braided it for him whenever he had a shift at the guardpost. Eventually, she taught him how to do it. She was getting tired of taking care of his mess of a mane.

A few years later, Cadenza had the bright idea to dye Laurance’s hair. She was so adamant about it. But Laurance always remarked on how it looked like her head was on fire. But she ended up convincing him. Laurance regretted it immediately. He had been ready for some sort of change. But once he saw it, he just started laughing. He really DID look like Cadenza. Which is weird, seeing as they’re adopted siblings and from completely different racial backgrounds. But they have the same soft features, and the same sharp jawline.

And then, he met Aphmau. She was the first woman he really had to try with. In Meteli, if he gave someone the right look, they’d be fawning over him. But he was so interested in Aphmau. She was allusive, and powerful. And she did not give a shit about him. Yes, she was a very caring person, but all of his sly remarks were ignored. However, she was very interested in his hair. A lot of people were, but she didn’t know the meaning behind it. Once he told her, she was fascinated. The idea of hair holding spirit and strength enticed her, and it really resonated with her, too. She let Laurance braid her hair whenever he wanted after that.

When Laurance gets out of the nether, he feels entirely lost and disconnected from himself. Cadenza offers to clean him up, and get him in some new clothes. Even though he's blind, Cadenza can see the emptiness in his eyes. She offers to dye his hair back to its original color. And there's something unlocked within him. His hair. It feels wrong, and heavy. Not so much because of how dirty it is, his own blood and sweat in it. It's weighed down by everything that's happened. He's something new now. Something that feels less. "Cut it off," He says. Cadenza freezes. She knows why he keeps his hair long, and has witnessed his hatred of haircuts first hand. But she does it anyway. Whatever Laurance needs from her, she'll do it.

When Garroth saw him later that night at the baby shower, he was more than concerned. He really hadn’t seen much of Laurance since they’d found him, terrified of seeing him in that state. But then he did. He was blind. His hair was cut short, and it was brown again. Garroth knew more than anyone what Laur’s hair meant. He was scared of what this implied. And he knew Laurance was a Shadow Knight now. He couldn’t have survived the nether for that long without being transformed. Laurance was his friend, maybe more, but he was someone else now.

A distance formed between them. Laurance was struggling, even when his sight somewhat came back. And Garroth kept thinking about the amendment he made in the Guard’s Oath. He didn’t want Laurance dead, but he wanted Aphmau safe. And then, she wasn’t. She had left, and they hadn’t heard from her in weeks. So, with some malice between them, the two guards had to go find their Lord.

When Laurance, Garroth, and Aphmau went on that long journey, all of their hair grew out pretty fast. He saw Garroth and Aphmau cutting each other's hair one time. He didn't really mention it, not wanting anyone to get any ideas about HIS hair. But, eventually, Garroth pointed out the literal rat's nest growing on his head. Laurance let him cut his hair. It was the first haircut he ever had that he didn't hate. From then on, only Garroth could touch his hair.

Laurance realized how easy it was to take care of short hair. He hadn’t had hair this short since he was a child. But he felt lighter. He felt like he had completely changed as a person, now that he was a Shadow Knight. He held his strength elsewhere, now. He was growing a disdain for his heritage, and his past. Being something new opened a different chapter of his life. He was beginning to hate his human side, and his culture. So he let Garroth cut his hair every once in a while.

And then they went to the Irene dimension. And Garroth got left behind. Laurance was in a world without his other half, which Garroth had grown to be. He stopped thinking about his hair really, and when he did it was memories of Garroth sitting behind him, knife in hand as he trimmed his hair. So, over the months, maybe years that Garroth was gone, he began to grow his hair again. Was it in respect for Garroth this time? The memories they shared, the time they had lost?

By the time they saved Garroth, and Aaron had died, Laurance’s hair was past his shoulders. Garroth was trying to settle into this new era. He knew that so much time had passed, the decay of Phoenix Drop showing that. But when he saw Laurance, that just solidified the deep sorrow for all he’d lost. There were new scars on Laurance’s face, a tenseness in his posture. His hair was long again. Nowhere near the length it had reached before, but substantial enough to hurt Garroth in a way he’d never felt before.

Laurance kept growing out his hair after that. It just… felt right. The calling was consuming him. He needed his strength again, something to hold his true spirit. He needed a visible reminder that he was Laurance, not whatever the calling wanted him to be. And it worked, for a while. He let his anger simmer deep within him. He tried to hold on to whatever was keeping him sane. Garroth needed him, Aphmau needed him. He just needed to hold on.

And then he heard about Aphmau’s pregnancy. He had gotten over her for the most part, but there was something in him that just wouldn’t let her go. It was the calling. It wouldn’t let him let her go. And hearing that she was pregnant, with Aaron’s child, lit a flame inside of him. The simmering anger in his heart had exploded into an eternal flame.

He wasn’t in control anymore. His limbs moved against his command. He found a nether portal. He took his sword, the one Aphmau had gifted to him, and cut off his hair. And he jumped in.

#i wanna be eaten by the void now please #the scary part about all of this is that i don't even remember writing this #it just happened guys i promise 😭😭😭#liberty and justice for no one but laurance zvahl #aphblr #aphmau #aphmau minecraft diaries #aphmau mcd #laurance zvahl #minecraft diaries #garroth ro'meave #mcd laurance #minecraft diaries laurance #aphverse #lore #garrance #laurmau #larmau

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