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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Until the Flavor's Gone, 18/? (Biadore) - Kitschy Pixel

A/N: Well. Hello. I realize it’s been a very long time. I’ve been busy and also? This chapter was just a pain for so many reasons. I hope it was worth the wait though! Many thanks to Veronica for looking over this and making sure it wasn’t just a garbled mess. Feel free to follow me @kitschypixel because sometimes I post stuff.

In this chapter, it’s time to face the aftermath of the night before, and everyone does a little bit of soul searching. Let’s talk about feelings, shall we?

No real warnings expect for the usual excessive swearing, references to drug use, and a reminder that everyone flirts with everyone.

Chapter 18

Shane felt good. Nope. Shane felt great. Sated, satisfied, sensuous, salacious, showered. He felt it all right now and it was nothing short of fantastic. He hummed to himself as he leisurely walked down the hallway to Danny’s hotel room, his gait turning into a skip as he rushed to catch the very person he had to thank for his wonderful evening.

Roy lifted his head and instinctively wrapped an arm around as Shane bounded into him, chin to his shoulder and nose to his neck. “You’re chipper. Feel better?”

“Fan-tas-tic…” Shane purred before he pulled away and took Roy’s face in his palms. “You’re an angel.”

“Haven’t heard that one before,” Roy quipped, fingers tapping on Shane’s wrists. “I need to get going.”

Shane rolled his eyes and offered up a cheeky little grin that made his eyes sparkle a little with mischief. “Right. Of course. Don’t let me keep you.”

“It’s tempting,” Roy mused, just short of under his breath, flicking his eyes to Shane’s face to gauge his reaction. Shane shrugged, sparing Roy his opinion, smacking his lips together instead as he leaned back against the hotel door. Roy raised an eyebrow, “That it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, right.”

Shane lifted his hands up in surrender. “Listen. If you want to spend the rest of your life with generic underwear model number 5, you certainly don’t have to fight for my blessing. Do what you want as long as you’re happy,” he paused for a beat, pursed his lips and tilted his head. “Are you happy?”

Roy stumbled a bit on his answer, which was still wrought with sarcasm, “Sunshine and roses.”

Shane snorted back a laugh before curling his upper lip over his teeth and clamping his mouth shut tight. He mulled it all over, taking in the way Roy dawdled about and searched for ways to extend the conversation. “Okay…” he hummed. “If you’re dead set on ruining my wonderful night by needing my opinion, let’s head to the lobby.”

“Oh please, you love giving your opinion…”

Shane flicked Roy lightly on the cheek in protest but said nothing else as they both headed to the elevator. Their trip to the lobby was quiet, and the conversation didn’t pick back up until Roy checked his phone, making a show at calculating how much time he had left.

“You could just not go, you know. Just stay here. We can find space for you in one of the rooms.”

“Choose Boston over New Orleans?”

“Or choose spending time with friends who care about you instead of some petulant brat who wants to make you something you already said you aren’t,” Shane shot back, which made Roy laugh as he sat back into one of the lobby sofas that was a bit too stiff and a bit too deep to be reasonably comfortable. He chose to slouch at an odd angle to keep his feet touching the ground as Shane curled up beside him, elbow on the cushion above Roy’s head.

“Tell me how you really feel.”

“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? My expert advice on your shit relationship?” Shane asked with a smile and a few coy bats of his eyelashes. “Remind me what you did that prompted this rather sudden trip to New Orleans that just had to happen when two of your closest friends – one you’ve had a past sexual relationship with and the other you could have had if you weren’t such a coward – ah!” He reached out and pressed his finger to Roy’s lips and shushed the protest, “Don’t argue with me when I’m making a point. Which was… oh yes! Your sudden need to leave town because we were going to be in New York and wanted to see you.” He snapped his fingers and looked heavenward. “A small vacation in your home town just seems like a very big apologetic gesture for you… and for what? Getting jerked off by some stranger in a bar bathroom?”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘cheating’,” Roy remarked as he stared blankly at the exit, suddenly reconsidering if he should have stayed for this.

“Cheating? I’m sorry, did you actually promise to be exclusive with this one? You never do that.”

“I… no. It was just… eventually assumed,” Roy closed his eyes to ignore the sharp ‘by him’ that Shane inserted before continuing, “I was hoping this would work.”

“Why? Do you actually see a future with this guy?”

Roy shrugged a shoulder, whispering a soft ‘probably not’.

“Mmm… okay.” Roy shifted a bit as Shane seemed to absent-mindedly play with his hair, the pads of his fingers brushing his ear in a way that Roy was fine with. “You wanna know what I think?” Shane grinned at Roy’s eye roll. “I think you can find better ways to spend your time than trying to keep up with some young trade that’s… what? Ten years younger? Who you’re just going to get bored with because he wants to challenge you in all the wrong ways.”

“I’ve been with younger.”

“Yeah, I know. They’re sleeping upstairs. Also? Not my point.” Shane frowned as he tilted his head. “Be honest with me. Why try to make this work? Why do you even want to? You’re not exactly the long term relationship type. Is it about sex, loneliness? What?”

Roy jerked his head away slightly to shimmy upwards so his back could be a little straighter. He pressed his lips tightly together to delay speaking for just a few more minutes and Shane began to think he just wasn’t going to answer. Then, slowly, with a voice uncharacteristically soft, he replied, “I don’t want to be that guy–” he gestured upwards before Shane got a chance to implore further. “The guy who does that to someone.”

Shane’s lips twitched into a smile as the pieces to Roy’s predicament started to click together and he shook his head. “Well look at you, growing a conscience… and you can’t even do that right.” He ignored Roy’s scoff and continued, talking over any argument that Roy had ready, “You are not the same as Danny’s ex. You didn’t make promises and you didn’t lie when you got caught breaking them. You just did what you always do. You decided to like a guy, got bored, and fessed up. You don’t need to make yourself miserable with someone who wants some different version of you to prove yourself. Some of us like you just the way you are.”

Roy wrinkled his nose a bit, pressing his tongue to the side of his cheek before he sat back up and stretched, cracking his back. “Well… that was gross and sappy.”

“You wanted my opinion!”

“Yeah. I thought you were going to be an asshole. Not pull this Mr. Rogers shit.”

Shane lightly swatted Roy on the arm, “See if I help you again then, you dusty old cunt!”

Roy caught Shane’s hand and pulled him forward into some kind of half hug, index finger to his chin as he released him. His eyes sparkled with a look that stirred up memories of flirting during fittings and the exchange of phone numbers from years ago. Shane squirmed a little and in a flash, it was gone as Roy broke away and gathered himself up to finally leave.

“Are you going to make your flight?”

Roy shook his head, a strange smile playing at the edge of his lips as he slung his carry on bag over his shoulder, “What flight?”

Shane’s eyes widened as he caught on quick, “Ahhhh,” he held up a finger and aimed it towards Roy, whose smile only turned into a wicked little smirk as if he was the most clever person in the world, “You never had to re-route a flight, did you?” Roy shook his head, “Because you two have already broken up.” A nod. Shane lifted his foot in a poorly executed kick in Roy’s direction, barely brushing his knee. “When?”

“After you called. We had a fight. I might’ve told him he wouldn’t be so insecure if he put out more. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s a bit of a blur.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“Yes, well…” Roy just made a vague hand gesture into the wind and shrugged the whole thing off. “Don’t tell him, okay?”

“What? That you’re a dick? I’m pretty sure he already knows, but I’ll pull it from the newsletter.”

Roy rolled his eyes and shook his head, “No. I mean… you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” Shane leaned forward with his chin on his knuckles and an angelic smile on his face, “Your secret’s safe for now. Go. Be a free, single man! Even though you could easily just stay here and be free and single with us.”

“Can’t. I do have an actual ride back that I need to get to before he leaves without me.”

“Ooooh, what kind of ride? Do I know him? Is he cute?”

“None of your fucking business!”

“So you should introduce me!”

“You wish!”

Shane blew a kiss and winked from where he was still perched as Roy retreated towards the door with a cackle and a middle finger. Shane watched him disappear, blinking a few times when he realized he was biting lightly at his bottom lip and wiped the slightly goofy grin from his face. He cleared his throat and looked upwards before making his way back to Danny’s room to provide a much needed wake-up call.

––––

The first thing Danny became aware of was the smell of a very familiar coconut-based body wash that seemed to wrap around him and make him smile. He groaned and dissolved into a fit of giggles seconds later, wiping at his cheek and craning his neck to grin at his new guest. “If you’re gonna use tongue to wake me, just give me a blow job.”

There was a light laugh and a soft hum as the arms around his waist loosened a little with a playful nip at his ear. “Crude but tempting. I’ll consider it for next time.”

“Finally,” Danny replied with a dreamy sigh before another set of giggles bubbled forward. He pulled away so he could turn over, facing a rather blissful Shane laying next to him. “You look happy.”

“I’m just relieved you got some proper sleep.”

“Shut up. You got dick.”

Shane wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue out before sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. “Lady never tells.”

“Good thing you’re a slut. Fess up! Was he hot?”

“Gorgeous. Didn’t mind the drag either, which saved a lot of time for other things. Okay kisser, nice dick, great sex – very eager – and I still had time to shower before getting back here. Ideal night.”

“I’m glad Roy could give you the night off.” Danny shot a glance to Shane’s face and watched his reaction. Shane blinked and opened his mouth to possibly deny Danny’s insinuation before simply closing it and offering a quiet apology. He curled around Shane’s lap, cheek against his thigh, “I get it, I wasn’t being fair.”

“Mmm… he didn’t scar you for life or anything, did he?”

“Who? Roy?” Danny lifted his head a little as Shane hummed again in affirmation. “No,” Danny continued, pressing his lips tightly together before rolling onto his back and staring at the hotel ceiling. “He was actually not bad given… you know… the emotions.”

“I see he got you to wash your hair, though.”

“Ugh. He helped me wash it in the empty bathtub. It was so gross and humiliating. I cried about everything.” Danny paused for a beat to cringe, lip curling up in disgust with himself as the memories from the night before washed over him in a fresh, chilled wave of shame. He closed his eyes tightly and groaned, bringing his fingers to his eyes and pressing hard against them. “Fuck… I don’t know how I’m going to face him again.”

Shane reached over to gently wrap Danny’s freshly cleaned hair around the tip of his index finger before sighing, “He’s probably been in similar or worse circumstances, you know.”

“Yeah… funny how that doesn’t make me feel any better,” Danny spat out a little before he dropped his hand to his side and tilted his head a little to catch Shane’s slight eye roll. “Fuck. And I’m still being an asshole to you.”

“A bit, yeah…”

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Danny’s eyes combed through the rather passive expression on Shane’s face – searching out an answer that the current silence wasn’t giving him before he propped himself up onto his elbows and groaned again. “Yeah, don’t answer that,” he muttered before he shimmied himself up slowly to sit upright, only to hunch forward and stare at himself in the obnoxiously large mirror that was across from them both.

The silence persisted until finally, Shane spoke up – slow and deliberate and delicate. “Question. Was it really that terrible to see him last night?”

“Yes!” Danny rolled his eyes, the light smile tempering the horror he still clutched to tightly. “I felt like such a child. You try getting a sponge bath from a guy you used to fuck, see how you feel.”

“Hot.”

“Oh fuck off. Don’t make it weird.”

“Mmm… think it’s a bit late for that.”

Danny pressed his middle finger to his temple, laughing in spite of himself before giving voice to a thought that’d laid dormant from when he first saw Roy again last night to now. “Hey… how’d you even get him here?”

“Oh, easy. I asked.”

“… so… you didn’t tell him about… was it Philly?”

“Cleveland.”

“Fuck. I knew it.”

“And no, I didn’t.” Shane sighed, reaching out to fuss with some stray strands of Danny’s hair. “I just told him I was worried. That’s all.” He tilted his head as he watched Danny visibly process the information. “You know how it is. You badger him enough and he can be reliable to a fault.”

Danny dropped the subject with a quiet, ‘yeah’, before shifting to the present with a few slow blinks and small shake to his head. “Made me realize this tour was a bad idea…” He picked up his phone and stared at it.

“You need a moment alone?”

“No..” Danny shifted so he could curl against Shane with the phone to his ear, finding an anchor as he waited for his tour manager to answer.

––––

The months after Boston, Danny had been dealing with the aftermath – clawing out of rock bottom and facing the consequences. He’d been so busy trying to do damage control so he could pick up his tour once it was rescheduled that he neglected one little loose end that he knew he had to handle at some point.

Roy.

He’d been ignoring the text messages so far, not really ready to relive the humiliation of that night in the form of an apology he knew he owed. And when he saw Roy’s status on social media turn to “single”? Well… now he just felt guilty, as if he’d somehow been at fault (even if that was irrational).

So he’d gone through his day to day, checking his phone when a message pinged, trying to get his attention, and every time thinking “I should reply”, before overthinking it and then saying nothing at all. That is, until:

Call me.

It was weird for Roy to be so blunt, and the more he looked at it, the more he began to panic a little. What if there was something serious? What if he was hurt or someone they knew was in the hospital? The number of scenarios running through Danny’s head as he stared at those two words got more and more outlandishly dire until finally…

“Hello?”

“You said ‘call me’, are you okay? Is someone dead? Do I need to fight someone? What happened?”

“No one’s dead. I just wanted to talk to you, calm down.”

Danny’s panic left him in a slow sigh as Roy started giggling through the phone, “Shut up! Everyone knows that ‘call me’ with a period means there’s like… someone’s dead and you might need an alibi level of emergency!”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone!”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but everything is fine. Gotcha on the phone though.”

Danny sat still on his bed, squinting at nothing, just picturing the shit eating grin plastered on Roy’s face. “You fucking dick.”

There was a cackle on the other side, which helped break this weird tension in Danny’s chest as he started to recline back into his bed. Of course Roy would make it easy – for Danny to just slide past the consequences and back into the jokes and random rambling that kept them friends. No expectations of apologies or explanations. Just a reset button and a fresh start.

And Danny couldn’t do it.

He was quiet as Roy’s laughter petered out in soft little giggles, took a breath, and braced himself for ice water.

“Sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Eh,” Danny could hear Roy shuffle his phone from one ear to another, “It’s fine–”

“It’s not though!” Danny shot up and started to pace. “It was a shit thing to do…”

“Dan-”

“No! No. I… gotta do this.” He took a breath and sat back down, still fidgeting as he tried to focus on what he’d been trying to script for the past few months. When that failed, he winged it. “I was embarrassed that you like… showed up and saw me like that. It’s not your job to like… take care of me or whatever the fuck – and don’t say it’s no big deal because it fucking is! It wasn’t fun, it wasn’t cute, I was a fucking nightmare and – would you stop laughing for two seconds!?”

Roy’s giggles had started up again in the midst of Danny baring his soul – be it from disbelief, nerves from the seriousness of the moment, or maybe a mixture of the two. Danny could hear him clear his throat and take a pause before urging him to continue with a very soft ‘go on’.

“Thank you, what was I saying?”

“I think you were being way too harsh on yourself.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you figure that?”

There was another long pause and Danny could picture Roy’s hesitance. But Danny stood his ground. This conversation wasn’t going to end just because Roy didn’t want to have it.

“Everyone does stupid shit in the midst of a break-up. So maybe your stupid shit involved you getting high as fuck and not bathing for longer than usual. And maybe you fucking freaked out Courtney, which I guess freaked out me because – Jesus Christ – what were you taking that was freaking out Courtney of all people? So yeah, maybe I wasn’t overly thrilled to be like… hosing you down in a hotel bathroom because you were smelling like sweat and corn chips but… it happened. Because I was worried a little bit. Okay? So like… it’s fine.”

“But it’s not fine.”

“Did I just reset this conversation? What the fuck are you looking for?”

Danny groaned, biting his lip before heaving a huge sigh to finally put words towards something that had been weighing on him for months. “That trip… you coming to see me… you said you and what’s-his-face were… not fine, but like… going to be okay. Or you were making it work. Or… something. And then after… next thing I know, you guys broke up…”

“Okay? What about it?”

“Did you break up because you came to see me? Because I know he wasn’t really thrilled about like… our past or whatever and– and you’re fucking laughing again!”

Roy sucked back his giggles and with a high pitched ‘sorry’, allowed Danny to continue. Danny huffed and then blurted out the last part of his sentence, “Anyway, if you need me to talk to him, to like, tell him that nothing happened between us aside from me making an absolute ass out of myself, I can… or whatever.”

The cackles that erupted made Danny’s cheeks burn and he pouted at his phone. “Or you can just laugh at me!”

“No! No no no… okay. I’m sorry. Alright? I’m sorry for laughing. Hold on.” Roy sucked back a breath and let his voice settle after a few exaggerated renditions of “I’m not laughing at you.” As Danny was about to call bullshit, Roy had managed to wrestle his voice back to a natural pitch. “No! I’m serious. I’m not laughing at you. It has… nothing to do with you, really. Any of it.”

“Any of it?”

“Not a bit.”

“So… you mean… you didn’t break up because he was a jealous twat?”

“Oh, no. We broke up for that exact reason and then some, but it absolutely had nothing to do with me coming to see you.”

“Oh… so… when you said that things were going to be fine?”

“I don’t actually recall you asking if things were fine between me and him. You asked if I was happy. Those are two different things.”

Danny frowned as he tried his best to shuffle through the rather muddled events from that night, and upon coming up with nothing, he conceded. “I don’t remember now…”

“Right,” Roy remarked, the smile conveyed in his voice. “Is this what you’ve been torturing yourself with these past few months?”

“I… maybe?”

“Uh huh.” The silence between the both of them had settled and stretched, past the point of awkward into familiar, before finally, Roy spoke up again. “So… are we actually good now?”

“Yeah…”

“Great. So do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Can we take a break from talking about our feelings for like… awhile? Because frankly, it’s fucking exhausting. I’m not built for this bullshit.”

That got Danny to laugh, and amidst his giggles, he managed to voice an enthusiastic “Deal!” before they said their goodbyes.

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #bianca del rio #courtney act #biadore #m/m au #alternate meeting #angst #flavor #utfg #kitschy pixel #tw discussion of drug use #submission #queen au

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shimii26 · 2 years ago

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Phoenix: The Recycler Addison

My name is Phoenix, I’m an eco-friendly Addison who specializes in utilizing the materials around me to create new products that Darkners will use to their fullest potential and reduce the space wasted by the data trash other Addisons seem to be so careless with.

Although my goal is to use my talents for the greater good of this Cyber City, I have to admit that sometimes my drive to succeed can lead me to be a little more than just proud of my work. Take for example, my lovely but kitschy work studio and gallery! I call it: Phoenix’s Recycled Fashion And Furniture! I just absolutely adore the fact that every piece of furniture and jewelry piece I sell was made by my own two hands! And it didn’t cost me a dime, I’d like to see any other Addison top with such a cheap price tag on their own shops. In any case, the one product I take the most absolute pride in, are my homemade sandwiches, perfect for a quick lunch, or a much filling snack when you need some quick energy during a busy shift! I can make them any flavor you’d like, you want cucumber and figs? You’ve got it. Gruyere and smoked ham? Gotcha. Cookies and ice cream? Not exactly a traditional sandwich, but I don’t judge, yes I can do that. But by far, my most appraised and demanded food product has to be my homemade egg salad sandwich, seasoned with the finest pixel salt, pepper, and paprika, creamy RAMmayo, and tangy mustardata. What’s the recipe? HA! Funny of you to ask, the recipe is not for sale. I don’t ever dare divulge my biggest trade secret!... Well, I guess I did divulge it once to… someone not that important to others anymore. To me, he was the most important creature, so important to my career choice, and vital to my source of satisfaction in my work. You see, business hasn’t been going that well since I had been caught rummaging through the upper class trash bins for materials, and my mental health hasn’t been very stable. But their reappearance into my life has helped me begin to recover from my own self doubts, and allowed me to re-experience the euphoric feeling just watching someone benefiting from my efforts…

You want to know who that someone is?... Well… You may have heard about the rumor of the one and only Addison in Cyber City history to live on the streets... Yes, he was the one who helped inspire me to show this world what I can do, my ideas, and my creativity… How did I come to meet him?... You see, he and I were nothing more than basic acquaintances for most of our time together, until we managed to reunite many years later, united by the one thing we shared commonality with… Lemme recall my history with him for you.

The story of my relationship with the peculiar Addison begins during my second year of Addison Career Training. Every Addison is required to go through a general line of college-like courses to help them choose a specialty that will help them succeed in life, and maintain a level of happiness required to pass off a friendly face to customers alike. It’s actually quite common for Addisons to experience depression, which is why it’s critical one chooses a specialty that they don’t mind performing for the remainder of their lives, it’s extremely difficult to change your profession as an Addison as it requires some serious data rewriting and paperwork. You only have 3 years to decide your profession, and at the time, I was already more than halfway through my studies, unsure of what I want to pursue. It almost dragged me down to a dark state of depression. I was quite lost as to where I wanted to go in life.

Nevertheless, the two of us were in a general business class together, learning how to approach customers, present advertisements, and strike bargains in order to keep our quotas up to snuff. The reason why we even sat next to each other in the first place was a mere fluke, as it was the last seat in the classroom, and he was the last Addison to enter the room. He was rather an unusual fellow, in all my life I have never seen an albino Addison, it was a very rare pigment to be programmed with, or lack thereof, and yet, there he sat like he wasn’t someone particularly special. He was correct to think that way though, despite his beautiful and bright appearance, he was more or less just another little cog in the everlasting chain of Addison economics. But our people knew better than that; when an albino Addison manifests into reality, it tends to spell trouble for those who get close to them. But I don’t believe in such nonsense, this was merely a rumor spread by more common colored Addisons, typically one would hear this kind of talk from primary colored individuals. Even with that expectation of greatness, succession, and mischieviousness going for him, he was actually quite closeted, almost like a silent pale phantom who lurked in the dark corner of the room. He barely spoke a word, never seeked out any kind of friendship with anyone outside of class, never partnered up in projects, never raised his hand to answer questions. In fact, he seemed to have already given up on his studies, similar to me I guess. I'd be surprised if he managed to write down one page of notes from a 60 slide powerpoint presentation. Every lesson he’d have this depressed far away look in his eyes, dark circles lining his pupils, staring at his notebook, his pencil halfway gripped in his hand. Always looked as though he was going to fall asleep in the middle of the lesson. He never knew this, but I secretly referred to him as “Sad Eyes''. If “routine” was an Addison, this guy would definitely be it. I soon began to pick up on his quirks, and his preferences. Almost every 10 minutes on the dot, he would yawn quietly to himself or huff in exhaustion. After some time I found this quite amusing even though he was clearly not in a good mood.

But the most intriguing behavior I’ve noticed from him is his snack preferences. This Addison was an avid fan of protein and savory flavors, quite an unusual preference in taste as most Addisons were fans of sweet treats and pastries. We weren’t allowed to have snacks during lessons as our professor deemed it a distraction, but once the bell rang for the end of the period, all bets were off, and most students would whip out their treats, especially since our class was the midpoint to lunchtime. I never had to look at the clock to know what time it was in class, I could tell just from his little routine quirks. For example, I knew when there was about 5 minutes left of the lesson, he had quite the appetite, and I could hear his stomach growling for his midmorning snack at the exact same time. His eyes would change expression to a more worried look at that point, I guess hunger made him quite uncomfortable, I suppose I can relate to that worry. Perhaps his stature took more of a toll on his energy than expected as he was also quite short for an Addison, most of us top the charts at around 6 foot, but he was a mere 4 foot 10, which even added more rarity to his existence. Having to work harder to even just walk around campus must make his body crave high amounts of protein, so he quickly became a fan of having hard boiled eggs for his snack; they were quick to pack, easy to carry, came in their own wrapper, and took no time to gobble down. These were things I could tell he and I valued at the same time; efficiency, time saving, and major satisfaction results. Afterall, at the end of his snack, he had nothing to throw away while every other Addison that had a snack had some form of wrapper or package to toss; they clearly don’t see the damage they’re causing to our city with their carelessness in packaging.

Most Addisons would often give him dirty looks whenever he ate hard boiled eggs after class, it wasn’t because of the way he was eating them, it was because he was eating eggs in the first place. Eggs to Addisons, even those that come from farm animals, are considered a bit taboo to eat as many Addisons have the ability to lay eggs, and we view that as a form of cannibalism. Some lay ones that can be eaten, others can lay ones that can be used as a weapon, but in this day and age, it’s rare to ever see an Addison use their eggs for anything other than tossing them out once laid. You only ever see Addisons stooping so low as to eat their own eggs or other’s eggs when they are going through hard times, which again, was very rare as there hasn’t been a completely unsuccessful Addison in history.

It infuriated me with every lesson to see that trash bin filled with stuff that will never see the LED light again, never be used to its full potential. I hated it so much, it just made me want to pull the trash out of the barrel myself and rub it in everyone’s face, yelling at them not to waste so much. But I know that’s something I can’t do…

Or can I?...

I don’t know what caused it, but after months of scowling at that trash barrel and seeing “Sad Eyes” growing more and more hopeless with each lesson passing us by, a feeling I can’t describe suddenly came over me. I’ve yet to know what the feeling is truly called, but rumor has it that it’s something called “determination”. But either way, one day, an idea struck my mind like lightning, an idea that would help change not only the amount of garbage being thrown out between each individual, but also help shift the stigma of the little Addison who sat next to me. I knew I’d be the only one to carry this idea out, as it was… controversial to say the least. Addisons are not known for recycling, as evidenced by the Trash Zone not far from Cyber City. For an Addison to try and make a product from literal garbage, let alone sell it successfully, was completely unheard of, it was also about being shiny and brand spanking new to attract customers, Lightners with real money like loud and proud products such as those, and rarely show interest in thrifting. I thought it would be best to start with something that I knew was in high demand in my class; something to eat. Almost everyone in my class liked to eat something once the lesson was over, this would be my ticket to insert my recycling ideas into the grape vine…

But what would they want to eat? Everyone seemed to have something different everyday, it was difficult to determine a pattern of preferred snacks… except for “Sad Eyes”, he was the only one with a pattern I could recognize. He loved protein, especially hard boiled eggs… Perhaps the food idea I have could even break a second stigma! Yes, I will make something that not even “Sad Eyes” can’t resist; egg sandwiches! They’ll hit all his requirements; high in protein, major savory flavor points, and no waste if I wrap them in something compostable! I had no time to waste, I can’t let this idea leave my mind!

After my classes that day, I quickly ran to the student kiosk and grabbed some ingredients for the sandwiches, as well as requested a spot where I could sell my new idea. Addisons that want to sell food products, condiments, or basic household gadgets could request a space to begin selling their stuff, sort of like a practice for when they start to sell their stuff out in Cyber City. Plus, it was a way to make some quick cash if needed. But cash I really wasn’t interested in, I was on a bigger mission. I bought everything I would need to make the sandwiches and quickly ran back to my dorm, setting all the ingredients down on my desk. Now it was time for the hard part; getting the ratios of every ingredient correct. I knew it would take me a few attempts, so I made myself small batches to taste test which combination would be the tastiest. Batch one was of course way too strong on the mustardata, I needed to dial it back a bit. Batch two was too liquidy, too much RAMayo to egg. Batch three was lacking a bit of salt and pepper… Batch four tasted…

Incredible!

I had done it, the ultimate recycled egg sandwich was complete! Suddenly I was like a racecar, making sandwich after sandwich, until they filled up the space on my desk. Once those were done, I set to work also preparing some homemade ketchup to go with them, made out of the veggies I picked up from the kiosk. I quickly wrapped them up in their compostable wrapper and set them in the fridge. One dozen sandwiches, ready to be bought and enjoyed!...

Now I had to get them back to the student kiosk.

I didn’t want anyone to recognize me and begin to badger me about my creation, so I wore a large hoodie on my way to the store. With the egg sandwiches in hand, I sneakily but casually strolled into the student kiosk store and placed them inside the fridge where I had reserved a spot for me to sell them. I had asked the owner of the store if I could keep my name off of the shelf of my sandwiches as I wanted to remain an anonymous seller, which they found peculiar, but obliged as they believed they understood my feelings. Once they were in, I quickly made my way out without any students noticing me. I’m not sure where it came from, but afterwards I gained such a rush, knowing that something I had prevented from going to waste was going to go to good use, nourishing whoever will give it a try. Perhaps I was secretly desiring “Sad Eyes” to give them a try, he does love his protein, and rightfully so. But at that time, I didn’t care who was going to eat them, as long as they were eaten and enjoyed. The next day I walked by the student kiosk and saw the sandwiches were still there. I guess for most, purchasing an anonymous maker’s sandwich was a turn off, I don’t blame them, especially being made of eggs, but I was just so hesitant to be judged. I wanted the art to speak for itself, and it did just that the next day…

- - -

(10:45) Business Tactics 103 Auditorium on Friday:

“Now that we’ve covered the basics of bargaining, let’s begin to discuss alternative ways to get customers interested in the prices of your products.” Our professor spoke, changing the powerpoint slide to the next lesson.

Urgh, just thinking about that class makes me want to fall asleep… I was growing bored of the lesson, so I subtly looked over at “Sad Eyes” and watched him, he was just as slumped and exhausted as ever, with only half a page of notes filled out while I probably was on my fifth page of notes. He was clearly in a bad mood today if he couldn’t even be bothered to fix his spelling mistakes, which there were quite a lot. It made me curious how this dude even managed to read his notes after class and study from them. I suppose he finds a way, he does get at least a D on his tests, all he needs really. His hand began to slowly trail down the paper and create a slanted line, he must’ve been starting to fall asleep since his head began to lower towards the desk too. I swear he would’ve been out like a light in the middle of class, if it hadn’t been for-

*Grrrooowrrll*

His head suddenly jerked up and his hand jolted forward, drawing another slanted line on his notes. His expression changed to a more worried look; five minutes till class is over. His stomach was on time as always, alarming him to have his midmorning snack soon. After his rude awakening, he began to scramble last minute notes in his notebook. I could tell his hunger was bothering him since he was aggressively scribbling notes down to help distract him from the sensation. I’m not sure why, but that day…

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” I whispered to him.

I was lying about knowing what was wrong with him, but he didn’t exactly know that. In fact, it must’ve triggered some kind of nervousness in him, because his cheeks suddenly flushed more red than they already were, and he stammered his answer.

“Wh-What? N-No, I’m okay, just tired…” he whispered back, a slight crack in his voice.

I may have made the mistake of talking to him, because afterwards he suddenly tensed up, his hand shook as he took down notes, and the other hand wrapped around his belly. His pupils were shrunk, staring intensely at the powerpoint, sweat beginning to bead down the side of his head. I never knew someone could be so embarrassed about their hunger, typically Addisons just laugh or brush it off. But it’s as if to him, I just broke the antisocial shield he had built around himself, and now he had all eyes and ears on him, despite the fact that I was the only one looking at him. Each minute that passed his stomach kept trying to alarm him to eat, and I could see him curling up quite hard to try and muffle the noise. However, it didn’t take long for five minutes to pass, the bell announcing the end of class began to run. He suddenly uncurled himself, looking up at the clock on the wall.

“That’s all for today’s lesson, be sure to review chapters 8-10 before class next week!” The professor instructed.

Most of the Addisons began to pack up and head for the door, others stuck around in their seats and pulled out their midmorning treat, of course, with trash to throw away. Spamton did the same as he quickly pulled his backpack up into his lap and frantically searched his back compartment. His teeth tensed and he took a sharp inhale, pulling out a familiar wrapper. Its familiarity struck my mind, and I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the one of the egg salad sandwich packages I had placed in the student kiosk store days before! He quickly pulled one of the slices out of the packaging and wasted no time taking his first bite. My digital heart raced, curious and wondering what his reaction was going to be. Would he like them? Would he want to eat the whole thing? I thought I was going to start hyperventilating, I was so shocked that he actually bought one. It felt like forever waiting for his reaction…

. . .

His little pupils slowly lit up with life and sparkled, his mouth curled into a loving smile, and he let out a very soft and content “Mmmmm…” as his cheeks puffed from him chewing the sandwich. I had done it, not only was I able to recycle something that would’ve otherwise went to waste, but someone, especially “Sad Eyes”, actually enjoyed eating it! My mouth slowly fell open as I kept watching him eating my sandwich. He was savoring each little bite, tasting every inch of it, even going as far as to lick his lips when he got part of it around his mouth. Without my notice, another Addison approached the two of us.

“Hey, did you make that? It looks pretty good.” they asked “Sad Eyes”, pointing at the sandwich.

I suddenly snapped out of my tranced stare, and looked up at the Addison, they were quite the tall fellow, a nice golden yellow color, and hair pointed back. They seemed like a laid back Addison as their uniform was slightly untucked and their bowtie was undone. There was no doubt about it, something about my unique sandwich creation was intriguing to Addisons, and yet they don’t know why besides the taboo stigma. “Sad Eyes” perked up and gulped the mouthful quite loudly before answering.

“U-Uhhh… N-No, I didn’t make this, I bought it at the kiosk.” He replied.

“Oh, okay. What’s the name of it? I might give it a try.” They questioned.

“T-The name?... I don’t remember if it had a name…” he noted, looking at the wrapper for any kind of symbol or identification.

“Well that’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be able to find it when I check out the store later.” They shrugged, until they were suddenly interrupted by another Addison.

“Is that made of eggs!? You wanna eat THAT!? Don’t you know you’re gonna look like some kinda MONSTER eating that!?” they yelled two rows down.

It was a dark red colored Addison, a lot shorter than the tall golden Addison, but still much taller than “Sad Eyes”. I recognized him from my homec class, he was often the one to start trouble with the professors as he comes from a line of very rich and successful makeup marketing Addisons, so he thinks he’s hot shit. Nevertheless, it was clear the golden Addison wasn’t going to take that crap from him.

“Hey c’mon, don’t knock it till you try it.” The golden Addison defended and watched the red Addison strut away with disgust.

“Thanks for telling me where you got it.” They commented, picking up their backpack and slinging it over their shoulders as they left for the door.

“Sad Eyes” shrugged and went back to munching on the sandwich, finishing the first slice in just a matter of seconds. He picked up the second piece and decided to take out the pouch of homemade ketchup that was also in the packaging, squirting a bit of it on one of the corners. When he took the first bite of the second slice, he practically melted in his seat. The taste must’ve been euphoric for him as I saw his pupils almost roll to the back of his head, and he let out a louder “Mmmmm…” as he chewed. I couldn’t stop watching him, there was just something so precious about it. At this point, every other Addison had left the room, it was just us two and the professor, but neither of us had noticed, we were both fixated on the experience. Suddenly the professor took a ruler and cracked it on one of the nearby tables, scaring the absolute piss out of us out of our trance.

“HEY! You need to clear out, the next class is coming in 10 minutes!” the professor yelled.

I stood up and bowed my head.

“S-sorry sir, we were just heading out!” I apologized and packed my notes.

“Sad Eyes” quickly stuffed the remainder of his sandwich into his backpack water bottle pocket and hastily packed his notes as well. He stepped down from his chair and the two of us walked out of the room, a bit shaken up from being yelled at. I wasn’t sure why, but we both stayed on the same path for at least 8 minutes, at first not saying a word. It wasn’t much of a surprise given the fact that we’re both a bit socially anxious, but eventually he broke the ice and stopped dead in his tracks. I didn’t realize he had stalled and I kept walking.

“Were… Were you watching me eat?” he queried, looking far up since I towered him.

I stopped and paused, my fist clenching a bit. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Shit, he noticed. I wasn’t quite sure how to answer him. Do I lie? Do I tell him the truth? I don’t think he’d forgive me if I told him I made that sandwich… Why?...

. . .

The recipe is a bit hard for others to understand.

. . .

The longer I waited to answer him, the less he was going to believe me, so I had to give him an answer quickly. But which answer do I give him!?

“I WASN’T!” I responded with great projection.

I covered my mouth and my pupils shrunk, my cheeks burning red hot, I wouldn’t have been surprised if there was steam coming off of me. I looked back down at him, and his eyes were squinted, glaring deep into my eyes.

“Look, if you wanted to know where I got the sandwich, you just had to ask. I’m not good at picking up context cues.” he lectured, taking the sandwich out of his water bottle packet.

I lowered my hands from my mouth and slowly peeked over, watching him take a bite of the half eaten sandwich slice. He continued to walk along the path, licking his lips to clear the mess of a bite he took. He took another big bite not long after, I began to wonder if he had enough room to fit the rest of it. I mean, it was a pretty big sandwich, especially in his little hands. My heart fluttered a bit when he made quite a loud gulp, finishing the mouthful he had. It sounded as though he was beginning to struggle putting the rest down. He surprised me by tossing the rest of it into his mouth, chewing it for a bit, pausing for a moment… He was staring right at me, I quickly averted my gaze, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He turned away, another loud gulp, polishing off the rest of the egg sandwich.

“There wasn’t a name or brand on this sandwich, I can’t tell you who I bought it from, only that it was at the kiosk..” he explained.

It was at that point that the two of us heard a faint little rumble below his chest, followed by “Sad Eyes” covering his mouth with a fist to conceal a burp. He didn’t really try to muffle it though, I felt my eyebrows raise, suppose I didn’t expect him to forget any manners.

“Sorry, that snack was a bit filling.” he pardoned himself, wiping his sweater clean of any stray crumbs.

“O-Oh, it’s fine, I get it.” I replied back, trying not to blush again.

I was still in awe that not only he bought one of my sandwiches without knowing who made it, but even enjoyed it, AND finished the whole thing! At his size, I thought he was going to end up having to give up halfway through, but he seemed to have enough space in his stomach to fit the whole thing without needing to settle down. I guess when you have to work harder to get around, your body’s gonna want a lot to eat. Now, there was a bigger question looming over my head…

Would he buy another?

A business only works if there are returning customers, right? Hopefully he enjoyed the flavor and size enough to want to buy another, I don’t see why not based on what I’ve witnessed in the past 20 minutes. I won’t be able to tell until we have class again tomorrow.

“Hey, I gotta go, okay?” he told me as he turned toward the left fork of the walking path.

“Huh? O-Oh, sure. Have a good day, I guess…” I answered back, turning to the right fork.

He headed towards the auto shop garage, he must’ve had a class in mechanics. I had to make my way toward my environmental class, which was the building two blocks down from our business building. I soon cleared my head of everything that happened that day and pushed into my archives. It was time for me to get on with my day, and hopefully, look forward to seeing if my idea would be appreciated by more than just one…

- - -

(9:30) Business Tactics 103 Auditorium on Monday:

Everyone had already sat down by the time I got to class. I quickly got to my seat up in the farthest row before the professor walked in and he shut the door. As I unpacked my notebook and pen, I looked over to see “Sad Eyes” chair was empty, not even his backpack was there…

Oh no… Did that mean?

N-No, there’s no way my egg sandwich would’ve done that to him, right?... Surely he was just running late, not stuck in bed with a stomach ache, right!?... It has been 3 days, food poisoning doesn’t last that long, does it? I swear I could feel sweat beading down my neck from stress.

“Now then class, today we’re going to talk about how to negotiate business territory disputes; how to compromise who sells what when two Addisons sell similar products of interest. Who’d like to tell the class-'' the professor spoke, before suddenly being interrupted.

Everyone turned to the door being swung open, revealing “Sad Eyes” covered in sweat too and deeply out of breath.

“S-Sorry I-I’m l_late… My… a-alarm clock b-broke…” he panted.

“Mr. Spamton, you’re 5 minutes late to class. This’ll be your final unexcused absence for this semester, got it?” the professor explained.

“Y-Yes Mr. Wardly…” he nodded, slowly making his way up to the seat next to me.

The whole class gave him a scowling glare as he stepped up to the 8th row. He sat down in his seat with a sigh, his backpack slowly sliding off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a loud thud. He rummaged through his backpack and pulled out his notebook and pencil, it was clear it was shoved in there without much care as a few of the pages were folded awkwardly. My god, “Sad Eyes” reeked of panic and for some reason, wet dog. I guess he was running too late to take a shower, or even brush his teeth for that matter. He must’ve run at least a few blocks just to get here, even with his short height, that’s quite a distance for any Addison to fully run; we’re not exactly athletes, unless you count the ones who love selling sports gear and equipment.

“As I was saying, today we are going to discuss territory negotiation; many of you will have similar product interests and thus, will be competing for prime real estate.” the professor continued, switching to the first slides of the lesson.

Urgh, I knew this lesson was going to suck, I’ve barely decided on what I want to sell besides those sandwiches. Nevertheless, I took down the notes as usual. I glanced over at “Sad Eyes” after ten minutes and could see that he had barely written down a thing, his eyes were deeply drooped, and his mouth hung slightly open. He didn’t look quite right, and that's saying something. But even on days that he didn’t get enough sleep, he wouldn’t ever be this shut down. It didn’t occur to me what was wrong with him until something in his behavior routine changed.

*Groowwrrlrll*

His eyes shot open like snapped window shades, and his mouth quickly shut, turning into a concerned frown. He had skipped breakfast; no wonder why he was acting so differently. I felt bad for him, I knew hunger was like mental torture to him, and now he has to face it for the whole class. His hunger must’ve echoed in the auditorium because a couple of the Addisons that sat near us glared up with irritation. I acted as blasé as I could, trying not to attract any attention to us, but poor “Sad Eyes” looked like he was about to start crying. However, it looked like he got some sort of idea, as he slowly bent over and rummaged through his bag quietly. I could see something glittering in one of the pockets, it appeared to be some kind of wrapper. He slowly pulled it out and it was revealed to be a protein bar. I had thought, ‘Oh good, he had a breakfast backup’, but he was running the risk of being caught. Our professor hated when students ate in his class, he believed it to be a “distraction”. I betcha it was because the professors were supposed to remain “professional” when teaching, and the traditional staff viewed eating as unprofessional. “Sad Eyes” began to open the wrapper, careful not to make any noise… That’s when it happened.

*Grrgglrll*

The sudden announcement of hunger in his body caused him to jolt and rip the wrapper open with a loud crackle. The professor immediately stared at him. He slammed his ruler down on the table. Oh shit, he looked pissed.

“Mr. Spamton, are you eating in my class!?” the professor yelled.

“U-Uh…” “Sad Eyes” stuttered.

Without hesitation, our professor began to storm up the steps with a trash can, and suddenly “Sad Eyes” began to shove the bar into his mouth, chewing aggressively. But it was too late. His cheeks were clamped tight by Mr. Wardly’s firm grip. He flinched as the professor’s grasp was sharp and painful. A little yelp escaped his mouth, along with the protein bar he was trying to sneak. The professor let go once he was satisfied all of it was dumped in the trash bin.

“Owww, that hurt…” he whimpered and rubbed his cheeks.

“No exceptions, Mr. Spamton! One more interruption and you’ll be suspended from my class for a week, are we clear?” he scolded.

“Sad Eyes” swallowed hard and nodded, still cringing from the pain in his cheeks.

“Good… Now, let’s get back to the lesson.” the professor announced, stepping down to the main floor, setting the trash can down and changing the powerpoint slide.

I looked over at “Sad Eyes” and he had his head down on the desk, buried in his crossed arms. I guess he had given up any chance of paying attention in class today, I don’t blame him, it’s hard to pay attention on an empty stomach. Not only that, but he was starting to become a class outcast as his hunger was causing other students to be distracted. Every couple of minutes his stomach rumbled, and alternating staredowns and shushes from nearby Addisons would soon follow. I guess the professor had noticed too, but decided to ignore him and continue with the class since he’d already paused twice to deal with “Sad Eyes” accordingly. It was so hard to watch him in this saddened state, I needed to do something without interrupting class. But, would he accept my help, or end up getting too flustered and end up getting suspended?...

Only one way to find out…

I slowly shuffled my seat over to him, and gently placed my hand on his back. At first he didn’t notice, until I then began to rub his back up and down. His head peered out above his crossed arms, his face was covered in tears. He looked up at me and softly sniffled, I closed my eyes and nodded, hoping he would pick up on my attempt to comfort him. I guess he got the message and laid his head down on his arms, taking some deep breaths and slowly relaxing. I continued to rub his back, switching to big circles and pressing deeper. His eyelids began to droop, slowly succumbing to the thoughtful gesture. This seemed to have also calmed his hunger as well since his belly had gone quiet for most of the lesson, he was still clearly uncomfortable from the empty sensation, but at least he was able to compose himself and avoid class suspension. I didn’t even care that I was missing out on writing notes from today’s lesson, I could easily ask someone for the notes, Addisons aren’t really known to gate-keep information unless they want to charge you for their “services”. Time flew by for me since I was so focused on comforting him, but I’m sure it felt like forever for him. Finally the bell for the end of the class had rung.

“That’s it for today’s lesson, make sure to read up on chapters 12-14 for this week’s quiz!” the professor announced.

“Sad Eyes” shot up from his moping position, and immediately snatched his bag, rummaging through it. I quickly pulled my hand back, satisfied he was feeling a bit better, and began to pack my notes, when I saw what he pulled out…

I couldn’t believe it.

Another one of my egg sandwiches! He ripped the packaging off and grabbed one of the slices, taking a deep bite, and slightly moaning in flavorful pleasure. His pupils rolled to the back of his head, and he leaned forward to make sure he didn’t drop any bits onto the floor. It must’ve been so relieving to finally eat something after having to go through the morning without any food. I leaned back in my seat and smirked, it felt really good to know that I helped him in his time of need, especially with something I helped save from being wasted. He soon finished his first slice and moved onto the next, taking his time with this one. As the students who stayed behind to eat a snack began to pack up to leave, more took notice of what “Sad Eyes” was eating. Four of them approached our desk, two curiously staring while the other two had grimaces on their faces.

“Hey, what’s that you’re eating?” The yellow one asked, pointing at the sandwich.

“That’s not eggs, is it?” The pink one butted in, their nose scrunched up.

“Eggs? From where?” The orange one questioned, tilting their head.

“Where’d you get it from?” The blue one curiously asked, peering over the other three.

“Sad Eyes” looked a bit overwhelmed, stammering a bit before answering them.

“I uh… got it from the kiosk. It’s actually pretty good.” he replied, taking another bite.

Suddenly the four of them turned to me and asked at the same time.

“Do YOU like them too?”

My face went frighteningly blank with fear and I gave them a hesitant nod, which seemed to have been enough for them to step back and talk amongst themselves. From their body language, I could tell that most of them were now debating their next move.

“Alright, now I gotta know what it’s like.” The orange one announced.

“Are you serious!? You’re gonna look like a crazy person!” The pink one interjected.

“Hey, you don’t know, man!” The yellow one countered.

“Wonder who made it…” The blue one wondered before following them outside.

I was in complete awe, I didn’t think “Sad Eyes” just eating my egg sandwiches would begin to spark such curiosity so quickly! Now in just two days, five different Addisons wanted to know where he got it, and maybe tomorrow they might give them a try! I quickly packed my notes back into my backpack and began to head for the door towards the student kiosk. I would need more ingredients and inventory if this was going to be the case. Part of me did want to stay and watch him finish his food, but I knew I would gain more suspicion if I was caught staring at him. I’m… still shy about revealing that I was the one who made them. When I arrived at the kiosk, I noticed there was a bit of a crowd surrounding my sandwich spot. I kept a low profile and put my hoodie up, hoping no one would approach me and come asking questions. As I grabbed what I needed, I couldn’t help but overhear some of the murmured conversations amongst everyone standing there.

“Who do you think made it?” some of them asked.

“Do you think it’ll actually taste good?” others wondered.

“Well it’s gotta be good if even that white Addison is eating them!” one piped in, it was the orange Addison from before.

“I dunno man, I mean… Eggs? Isn’t that kinda wrong?” a smaller green Addison pointed out.

“Fuck it, I’m getting one.” a rather large purple Addison huffed, grabbing one sandwich.

Suddenly the crowd lost their minds with a few of them gagging and the other half going “ooooo”, while some gave the Addison a pat on the back for being their guinea pig. I watched as the purple one purchased the sandwich and opened up the wrapper, taking a rather large bite while the others stood around them and stared with longing. After a couple chews, the purple Addison turned to everyone and gave them a nod, which sent them into an even bigger frenzy. To my surprise, three more of them grabbed a sandwich and stood in line to purchase them! Had I truly done it? Had I just changed the stigma of our people?... it was still only a small group, and those outside of our school had no idea this change of perspective was going on. I had a long way to go to change the minds of everyone around me. I stood in line and waited my turn, and each Addison that bought a sandwich quickly opened them up and had a taste. Some left before I could hear what their thoughts about them were, but the ones I could hear definitely seemed excited about its taste. If I was going to do this, I needed to make sure I kept up with the demand, so I decided to go ahead and purchase double what I bought last time. Once everything was paid for, I headed back to my dorm and got to work, making sure to follow the ratio of ingredients exactly. There was a bit of a problem, I was on the last of the eggs, I would need more if I needed to make more batches…

But that wouldn’t be a problem…

I know exactly where to get more…

- - -

(10:45) Business Tactics 103 Auditorium on Thursday:

“Now class, let’s go over the summary of what we learned today about balancing costs and profits.” our professor lectured, switching to the next powerpoint.

Word had got around about the egg sandwiches, and it seemed like a fourth of the class had bought one today. I was so excited to see all my hard work pay off, and watch as that trash barrel be barely halfway filled. It was so hard to stay still in my seat, I was so tempted to get up and dance a jig, but I knew I’d both look like a fool, and probably be suspended by our professor. As I finished up the notes I needed for that day, I glanced over at “Sad Eyes” to see what he was up to in terms of his mood today. To my surprise, he had quite a bit of notes written down, he was even on his second page. In the months that we’ve sat together in class, I had never seen him make two pages of notes, but there it was. Perhaps he was just impatient and really looking forward to his midmorning snack, which resulted in his attention span increasing. All I could do was wait for his signal that class was almost over…

. . .

“What are you doin’?” “Sad Eyes” asked me with eyes squinted in suspicion.

Oh fuck. He noticed I was staring at him. What should I do?

“U-Uh, I- Y-you got a pencil I can borrow?” I stammered.

“You… have one, in your hand?” he pointed out.

Dammit. I could already feel my face beginning to burn hot with embarrassment. I had to think of something else.

“A-Actually uh, w-what time is it?” I questioned, barely even able to squeak out the words.

“Time? Uhh… it’s-”

*Grroowwrrlrll*

Five minutes left, on time like always. Oof, “Sad Eyes” didn’t look so good now. He stuttered his words as he told me it was 10:55, his hands shakily balled into fists, his teeth slowly clamped together, his shoulders hunched, and his eyes strained to stay open. His cheeks, usually rosy to begin with, flushed a deep hot red as sweat began to trickle down the side of his head. As much as I wanted to offer him some words of empathy, I felt my voice shut down, and I had no choice but to turn back and face the front of the class, leaving “Sad Eyes” to deal with his inner demons on his own. I made sure I wasn’t turned towards the front enough to where I couldn’t glance over at him, but enough to where it didn’t look like I was spying on him. I watched as he jolted back to facing forward, and scribbling down notes aggressively. His pupils had shrunk to tiny dots, and his legs were curled up under his chair towards his body. Yeesh, he looked like he had been thrown off a building. He was that tense. I struggled to keep my eyes off of him, but there was such a drive in me to want to just scoop him up and cuddle him until-

Wait… What am I thinking? Without realizing it at first, the bell had rung for the end of class.

“That’s it for today’s lesson, don’t forget we have our big quiz tomorrow, and I expect you all to be prepared!” our professor announced.

“Sad Eyes” quickly broke from his concentration and began to rummage through his bag, pulling out that familiar package. Suddenly I began to hear not just him opening up his sandwich, but others as well. There were three, no, five, no!... there were a dozen other students with the same egg sandwich as him! One at a time, they took their first bite, and there was a chorus of delicious smiles, chubby cheeks, and plenty of soft “mmmm”s from each and every one of them! I felt my little digital heart flutter with pure joy and pride, watching every Addison happily munch at something I created to not only nourish them, but to help our city from the wrath of pollution. As I began to pack up my things, I noticed the four Addisons that approached us the other day had stayed behind in class… TO EAT MY EGG SANDWICHES!?

“C’mon Click, take a bite, it’s good!” the yellow one teased, pushing a slice near the pink one’s mouth.

“Stop it Vid, I’m not eating it!” Click yelled, smacking Vid’s hand away.

“It’s better than you thought, right Banner?” the orange one asked the blue one.

“Definitely, Survey. You’re really missing out, Click.” Banner smirked, taking another bite.

“ALRIGHT! Alright, fine! I’ll try a bite just to shut you three up!” Click agreed, snatching the slice from the yellow one’s hand.

The five of us all watched with awe as Click reluctantly took a bite of the sandwich slice. He slowly took a few cautious chews before swallowing, his face crumpled with embarrassment.

“HA! Admit it, you like it, Click!” Vid shouted, pointing a finger in Click’s face.

“Okay okay, it tastes fine! Are you happy now!?” Click roared with humiliated rage as he stormed toward the exit.

“HEY, WAIT FOR US!” Vid yelled, grabbing his supplies in a hurry and running after him.

The other two Addisons calmly packed their stuff before following the two to the exit. I looked over at “Sad Eyes” to see if he had finished his snack, and he was on his last piece. God, his little chubby cheeks were so charming. I finished packing my supplies as well and sat back down next to him, giving him a bit of a smug grin.

“You’ve sure taken a shine to those egg sandwiches.” I told him.

“Heh heh, yeah, they’re just so good and so convenient! Plus it’s a big portion for the price, you get a good deal out of them.” he replied, shrugging.

“Seems like everyone else in the class noticed their value too, it’s a hit.” I chuckled, putting my backpack on. “C’mon, we should head out now.”

“Alright, I’ll walk with you.” he agreed, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and grabbing the rest of his snack.

The two of us headed for the door and outside to the rest of the campus. Falling leaves of multiple colors scattered at our feet. it was getting colder, winter must be close now, especially if our finals were approaching. It felt good to know that the two of us were just one exam away from our last year on campus. I looked over at “Sad Eyes” and he was just about finishing his snack, giving a fuzzy staticed hiccup. The two of us laughed as we headed back to our dorms, saying goodbye to each other before parting ways. We didn’t realize it at the time, but this became our own little routine for the rest of our time together in academy; go to class, watch “Sad Eyes” eat his snack, watch as more and more of the class switching to my egg sandwiches without knowing who made them, and us walking down the paths together. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into the next year of our training. Sadly the two of us were never paired up in the same class again, but I could still see him walking down the road towards the mechanics, he must’ve wanted to pursue that as his chosen career. Meanwhile I had begun to attend some environmental courses to better learn how to utilize every material around me to my advantage, and turn our pollution problem around. It was not the most praising course to be taking, but I took pride in the path I chose. Though, it was nice to see that “Sad Eyes”’s influence with my sandwiches didn’t fade after the next year began, some of the Addisons in my classes were eating them for breakfast or snack. And of course, I always saw him with one, munching away on his way towards his dorm. Once the sales of the sandwiches leveled out to a reasonable estimation of quantity, I was able to better focus on my studies, I surely wasn’t going to be able to pursue my dreams if my grades were slacking. I guess you don’t really know how fast time passes when you’re working hard, because before I knew it…

- - -

Graduation Day.

Man, it felt good to finally be free of all those boring lessons. I’m sure “Sad Eyes” was also relieved to be away from some of those shitty professors, and could now pursue his career just like everyone else in our class. With my cap on my head, the tassel was turned, and I stood up to shake the hand of the dean and receive my diploma. A few moments later, “Sad Eyes” stepped onto the stage, and did the same, it was kinda cute getting to witness the dean kneeling down to even shake his hand at his height. There were faint murmurs of backtalk in the crowd of Addisons as he walked on stage. They talked behind his back when he arrived at the academy, and talked behind his back as he graduated, typical. Once the ceremony was over, all of us marched out of the auditorium with smiles and pride. As much as I wanted to stay behind and congratulate him myself, I had no time to waste. The minute after the ceremony, I had set up an appointment to meet up with an Addison that specializes in leasing building spaces. There was a certain space that I found in the paper that I just HAD to have to start my little recycling studio in! With my diploma in hand, I rushed down the streets of Cyber City and past all the traffic to the vacant building, where he was waiting for me, suit, tie and all. I probably looked like a fool running up to him in my cap and gown, but I had no time to change into my street clothes, or even something a bit more formal.

“Hey there Phoenix, glad you could make it on such short notice! I’m Seamus, nice to meet you.” Seamus greeted with a handshake.

“Hey Seamus, thanks for agreeing to meet with me, I was really hoping to put an offer down for the place as soon as I could see it with my own eyes.” I replied.

“Oh definitely! Are you familiar with the building’s features? Lemme show you around.” Seamus insisted, leading me inside.

My pupils grew wide as I scanned the area with much giddiness. It was everything I had hoped for and more, so much space to work in, so many lights to brighten the place up, and tons of storage room to organize my findings! It even had a little bar I could sell my sandwiches from! The place just screamed perfection, there was no doubt about it, I had to have it!

“So, what do you think? Wanna place an off-” Seamus asked before I had cut him off.

“I’ll take it!” I shouted, throwing a stack of dark dollars I had in my pocket.

“Heh heh heh, excellent. I’ll prepare the paperwork…” Seamus chuckled, slowly putting my money into his suit coat.

As much as I was aware of how quick Seamus was to ask an offer from me, I still had fallen for the oldest Addison trick in the book; sell with confidence. And that was it, I was now the proud renter of this building. God, I wanted to get to work so fast, I don’t care if I have to sleep in here to do so! During the next hour, I was rushing back and forth from my workshop to my dorm, grabbing all my belongings, and tossing them into one of the storage closets. Since I’m no longer a student at the academy, my stuff has to leave the dorm, and I am too lazy and excited to drive it back to my apartment. If I needed to sleep in my new closet in order to get my studio ready for business as soon as possible, then so be it! Soon all my belongings were in my new studio, and it was time to begin shaping my career!

This place needs a fun paint job, maybe some pink over there, and a tie dye turquoise wall over there, and I definitely need some string lights around the bar! I need some furniture too, maybe a couch over there, and some high stools by the windows so people can look outside and sit, and-

Wait… Where am I gonna get all the stuff?

I had to pause and consider where I was really going to start, I had just spent all the money I made from selling those sandwiches to get this place, and I’m back to square one in terms of ideas. I can’t afford any furniture or paint!...

Or can I?

My recycling intuition was kicking in. What was I thinking? I got a degree specializing in repurposing, use your creativity! Yeah, screw BUYING new furniture, I’ll make it myself! Where would be the best place for materials? Aha! Of course, the academy dumpster! All the rich family Addisons always threw out the belongings they didn’t want to commute home with them, there’s bound to be tons of good stuff for me to use! Locking up my studio, I ran back to the academy and wasted no time getting my hands dirty. Luckily when students are moving into dorms, they provide carts to help move larger possessions, so I took advantage of one and used it to tote everything I found in the bins. There was everything you could imagine; old lamps, chairs, pretty carpets, tons of string lights, paper decorations, cans of old paint, and even pallets of wood I could use to craft the furniture with! The upholstery on the chairs I could use to make the couches comfy, and really add some pop and color to my studio. With my new inventory, I rolled everything back to my studio, making sure no one caught me borrowing one of the carts. That whole night, I got to work assembling my new accents, painting the walls to my liking, and setting up the fridges and kitchen. In just a couple days, my place was sparkling gorgeous, filled with products to sell, and ready for business! Once I finished up the tiny details and gave the place a good sweep, I flipped the open sign for the first time, and waited for the crowds to come flooding in…

And waited…

. . .

Hrmm, maybe I should do some advertising.

- - -

“Phoenix’s Recycled Fashion and Furniture: The Only Place In Town That’s Honest About Selling You Pure Garbage!... No, that sucks, why would I tell them the stuff’s made of garbage before they even buy it?” I mumbled to myself, tossing another crumpled paper into the recycle bin.

It has been a few days since I first opened my new shop, and so far there hasn’t been a single customer. Perhaps it was because on the inside it looked like a fun place to peruse and partake, but on the outside, it just looked like some shitty warehouse that a drifter was sleeping in! I spent so much time making the inside and my products spiffy, but took no time to plan out where I was going to start roping in customers. How do other Addisons get their products in the public’s faces; billboards? Can’t afford one of those. Posters? I think I need a permit before putting those out. Free samples? I don’t exactly have furniture that can be given away like- wait. Free samples of my sandwiches, of course! Addisons love free food, well, mainly anything free for that matter, but especially food since that means they don’t have to eat or spend the money they earned to eat that day. I rushed over to my shop’s bar and pulled out a few of the sandwiches from the fridge, cutting them into little finger sammies. After arranging them nicely on a plate, I put on a cute little apron and stepped outside, holding the tray out for anyone that passed by to see. It didn’t take longer than 2 minutes for one Addison to grow curious enough to approach.

“Hey, what you got there?” they asked.

“These are my special sandwiches, care for a taste? They’re also on sale in a larger portion!” I explained to them, holding the tray closer to them.

“Ehh, why not? It’s free.” they shrugged, and took one piece off the tray and popped it into their mouth.

About two chews in, I could see their pupils dilate and their mouth sides curl up. It looked as though they had just tasted a bite of heaven.

“Whoa, you made these yourself?” they questioned, their face beaming with excitement.

“You bet! Only $4.99 for the whole thing!” I smiled, waving my hand toward my building’s door.

“Alright, I’ll take one!” they said, holding out five dark dollars and stepping inside.

I led them in and took out a whole sandwich from the fridge, handing it to them in exchange for the cash. My first ever sale! Once they received their food, they also began to look around at the furniture with such wide eyes and genuine interest. Other Addisons outside started to peer into my windows, wondering what the first Addison was doing in there. Slowly they entered one at a time, taking a good look at my products. Who knew the power of free stuff could drive in so many customers? By the end of that hour, more than half of them decided to purchase something, whether it be a sandwich, or one of the chairs I reupholstered the other day, I had made over $50. I couldn’t believe I had made this much money without spending a dime on any of the materials! Well, I guess I did have to buy the condiments for the sandwiches, and the electricity for the building, and the plumbing… but you get the idea. If I was going to keep up these sales, I would need some higher quality items. It was time to diversify my inventory!

- - -

And with that, we get to the point in the story where we are now… I had spent a few months making new kinds of sandwiches and finding higher end furniture and jewelry to restore. However, I got into a bit of trouble going through the Queen’s bins looking for some broken royal furniture, she recently had an eviction and I was hoping to find some of what they might have thrown out. I didn’t get so lucky, and was caught by the Swatchlings. Heh, word got around that I was dumpster diving, and now business has been a bit slower. Y’know, sometimes I do wonder what happened to “Sad Eyes”, I heard rumors that he wasn’t doing so hot either. I wish I could see him just one more-

*knock knock*

I turned my head toward the source of the knocking, and who do I see?... It was “Sad Eyes”! I was in shock, how did he know where to find me!? There’s no way I could be dreaming this, right!? I stepped over to my door and slowly opened it.

“...Spamton? Is… that you?” I confronted him.

Good lord, he looked like shit. Observing him from top to bottom, his hair was heavily dyed back and very greasy, with little bits of wrappers sticking out. He was wearing fogged up pink and yellow glasses, his eyes behind them just as sunken and dark as I remember. His cheeks were bony, yet still faintly rosy. His white sweater was stained with what I could only describe as dumpster juices, and his black coat had several popped seams, exposing his sweater's long sleeves through the holes. His body was rather thin underneath the puffy clothing, and his legs seemed to be struggling to hold himself up. He was also missing some pants, I wasn’t sure where he lost them, but it was clear they were missing for a long time, his legs were covered in filth. It was such a sad sight to see my old friend in. After a moment, he finally spoke.

“HEY THERE [loyal customer], FANCY [I see you] IN THESE [parts and services]!” he answered.

I gasped, kneeling down to his level.

“Spamton, wh-what happened to your voice? And… where have you been? You look terrible…” I asked.

He laughed maniacally, it took me aback a bit.

“I USED TO BE THE [talk of the town] THE [ultimate life form] UNTIL I WAS CUT FROM MY [Life Alert: Call Now!] AND KICKED OUT OF THE [Queen’s Gambit]! THEY THREW ME IN THE [lava] AS MY [life sentence] AND MY [$99.99 speaker] HAS BEEN [broke] EVER SINCE!” he replied.

“Oh my god, YOU were the one that was evicted? That’s awful… Do you have a new place to stay?” I wondered.

“MY [home sweet home] IS OVER BY THE [trash zone], IT’S NOT SO BAD ONCE YOU GET OVER THE [hopelessness]!” he smiled unnaturally.

“You’re staying in the trash? Spamton, that’s not good for you, you need to get back on your feet… But, I can’t afford to help you find a new home, I’m only making enough to support myself…” I told him with worry.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY [inventory] TO [nom nom]?” he requested, his arms stretched towards me.

“What did you say? It’s a bit hard to understand you.” I implored him, holding his face in my hands.

*Grrrggrrlll*

“Sad Eyes” looked down at his noisy belly and I checked my watch.10:55, hmph, just like old times, his stomach always knew when to signal him at the exact same time everyday. It should’ve occurred to me earlier that if he was living in the garbage, he wasn’t going to be eating regularly and therefore might be starving enough to look for free samples from stores around him. Just like years ago, his expression changed to a more worried look and his shoulders tensed. His glasses even took on a greyer and fuzzier appearance. He looked a lot more miserable about his hunger in this condition. But to my surprise, he quickly jerked his head back up and disturbingly smiled wide.

“SORRY FOR THAT [surround sound] I HAVEN’T [wined and dined] IN [9999999] DAYS! YOUR [homemade storefront site] CLAIMS TO HAVE [$3.99 lunchables] TO SELL. I’VE COME TO [brand new offer] YOU SOME [fabulous products] IN EXCHANGE FOR ONE [Chicken Little] SANDWICH!” he explained, rubbing his belly with one hand and reaching into his pocket and pulling out an old battery with the other hand.

I stared at the battery in his hand, god he looked pathetic trying to swindle me with literal garbage. Still, there was something slightly charming about it, he sure had some guts trying to make the trade a reality. I shook my head and chuckled.

“Spamton, y-you don’t need to offer me any… “products”, if you needed something to eat, you should’ve told me right away.” I told him, slowly taking the battery out of his hand and putting it on the counter.

I’ll have to remember to slip that battery back into his pocket…

I stood up and ran over to my storage fridge, and grabbed a tray of my premade egg sandwiches. When I turned around, I didn’t realize he had followed me over, and he immediately grabbed the sandwich off the tray and without even removing the wrapper, took a large bite out of it. I was a bit startled, his mouth looked like a snake unhinging its jaw to eat something way too big for him. In fact, other parts of his body looked like it was moving with hinges, bolts, and springs. There was something about him that no longer looked natural, almost like he was made of some sort of clothing material. It didn’t take me long to see that he had completely transformed from a corporeal Addison to some kind of puppet, complete with plushy fingers and stubs for feet. If he was hungry, then he must still be still intact like a normal Addison on the inside, I doubt puppets would need to eat if he had completely changed. He sat down against the bar to enjoy his sandwich, and I slowly slid down to sit next to him. My digital heart felt achy seeing him in such a sorry state.

“Jeez, you must’ve been starving… You can have as many as you need, I know you used to have quite the appetite back in the academy.” I told him, watching him finish the first slice with a chomp.

“THANKS FOR YOUR [generosity], I’LL MAKE SURE TO [stock up] FOR THE [impending doom] THAT IS [winter sale: buy now!]” he stuttered, grabbing another sandwich from the tray.

Something felt… Off. Very off. Normally it made my body tingle with joy to observe him eating my sandwiches, but today it didn’t feel quite right. I didn’t feel any vicarious pleasure, I felt majorly uncomfortable. Maybe it was just seeing him eat in such desperation, or maybe it was just hard to see him in this bodily condition. But in the back of my mind, I knew what was truly bothering me.

I had never told him the truth about what he was eating.

. . .

I think it’s time to tell him.

. . .

“Spamton, listen… There's something I need to tell you about those sandwiches you’ve been eating.” I mumbled, finding it difficult to confront him directly.

“HAHEAHEAHEAHA! WHAT DID YOU WANT TO [confess thy sins] about YOUR [protein packed snack]?” he asked, his head jerking to face me with an unnerving smile.

I took a deep breath.

“Spamton… the eggs in these sandwiches…” I hesitated.

“YES [Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney]?”

. . .

“Are from me.” I confessed.

. . .

“Sad Eyes”’s glasses slowly went grey and fuzzy again, and his head slowly looked toward the half eaten sandwich he was holding. Oh god, is he gonna be furious at me? Should I have buried the secret in my grave? Is he gonna get sick? Maybe I should apologize to-

“YOU MADE THESE [$4.99 easter eggs] YOURSELF?” he questioned, turning his head quickly to look at my eyes directly.

“U-Uh, y-yeah… Listen, I’m sorry that I never told you about-” I started, but I was cut off.

“THAT’S REALLY [cooldown commence], I WISH I COULD DO THAT WITH MY [PiPiS], BUT THEY’RE [danger: flammable]! IT WOULD’VE CERTAINLY [help wanted] WITH MY [act fast]!” he praised, smiling widely and taking another bite.

“What!? Y-You’re not mad they eggs are from me?” I asked, completely gobsmacked.

“NO. IN FACT, I WOULDN’T MIND [another one], ESPECIALLY KNOWING NOW THEY’RE [locally grown] AND [health facts]!”

“B-But, even with our society’s taboo against it… You don’t care how you’ll look eating it?”

“NO.”

Wow. Even after all the years of judgment he got as an Addison who defied societal expectations and was abandoned by the world and left to rot in the garbage, he still doesn’t care about what others think of him, even if it means… staying in the garbage forever… Man, his self esteem puts my self doubts about my business to shame.

“...I could really learn a thing or two about confidence from you, Spamton. You were a blue moon Addison, and yet walked your own path despite the pressure…”

I shifted a bit closer to him.

“Y’know, I don’t have enough to offer you a place to stay, but I could certainly use a hand around the shop if you need some work. I’d be willing to offer you free meals everyday and half of the tip jar as payment. Maybe overtime you could even earn enough to get back on your feet, what do you say?” I offered him.

“A [once in a lifetime opportunity]!? HOW COULD I [terminate] THAT OFFER!? YOU’VE GOT A [deal or no deal]!” he shouted, holding his hand out for a handshake.

I smiled and took his hand, he wasted no time taking his other hand and shaking my hand with both of his quite aggressively.

“Heh heh heh, glad to hear! Now, we should probably get you washed up before you start. I don’t exactly want you handling anything edible without being at least squeaky clean. I'm sure you’re looking forward to a nice warm shower and new clothes. Lemme check my storage shed and see if I have anything in your size.” I announced, heading towards the back of my boutique.

“[Hochi Mama]! [free samples], A [brand new] WARDROBE. AND A [promotion]!? THIS IS MY [Lucky Lottery] DAY!” he squealed, skipping behind me.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘You gave a job to someone you barely knew from college and might rob you blind when you turn your back for one second and make off with your entire life savings!?’

Yes. Yes I did. Because he was, and still is, my best egg sandwich customer.

Now, would you care for an egg sandwich?

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mcprincessarchive · 4 years ago

Text

tag masterlist

wip just posting this now so it doesnt get buried in drafts

general:

#insp: general aesthetic, anything i cant immediately categorize usually gets tossed in here

#wave/🌊: water

#ph: neon/glowing/synthwave etc

#aes: pastel cute & soft things

#garden: flowers and greenery galore

#tulip/🌷: shabby chic, antiques, soft pinks and flowers

#celesta: deep blues and golds, stars and sea

#fish/🐠: marine creatures

#snowflake/ ⛄: snowscapes

#horror: more like the aesthetic of spooky than genuine horror, think kitschy halloween

#enviro

#rainbow/🌈

#nail art

#fashion

#people

#glitter

#food

#rocks

#pixel

#stickers

#fruit

#palettes

fandom:

#splatoon

#mario

#tloz: zelda

#pkn: pokemon

#ac: animal crossing

#sonic

#undertale

#vocaloid

#fnaf: five nights at freddy’s

#kipo

#ffxiv

personal:

#🕴️:

#🧚‍♀️:

#🎀: a rainbow neon nightmare of nostalgia tossed upon a malfunctioning background of ever-changing identity

#bbcore: vaporwave under the sea

#💙: fav characters <3

#oc insp

#🎀#💙

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allsassnoclass · 3 years ago

Note

would pretty please do 72 or 98 from the 100 ways to say I love you prompt list? maybe with the mashton college au? or just mashton in general! (I love your mashton so much) - lily 💛

lily you have been the #1 cheerleader of this series from the beginning you can have as much college mashton as you want

Word count: 4059

Rating: T for teen

Read on ao3 here

mashton: "I'll meet you halfway"

Michael and Ashton call each other every night.

It’s the type of thing Michael has seen his parents do when his dad used to have to travel for work conferences. Sometimes the calls are long, extensive conversations, and sometimes they only last a few minutes, a simple “hello, I love you, I want to hear your voice before I fall asleep.” It’s the type of domestic, mushy stuff that you do with someone you’re spending the rest of your life with. Michael loves it.

He would love it even more if he could actually see Ashton in person.

Ashton stayed over once in June, but since then their schedules haven’t aligned properly. Ashton works weekdays 9-5, and Michael typically works nights and weekends. With Anne Marie taking on longer shifts, leaving Ashton in charge of keeping house more often, there hasn’t been a lot of time to try and plan a day trip.

When classes start next week, it’s just going to get worse. Michael has been holed up in his apartment with very little contact with the outside world for three months. He goes to work. He comes home. Sometimes he orders take-out and gets to nod at the person handing it to him. He’s sick of his college town, and somehow he doesn’t think that having everyone else on campus is going to help. COVID policy is very similar to how it was in the spring, and Michael hated the spring.

“This fucking sucks,” he says. “It’s my senior year and all I want to do is leave.”

“So why don’t you?” Ashton asks, tinny and pixelated on Michael’s phone. “You have tomorrow and Sunday off, right?”

“Yeah.” He asked for it off at the beginning of the summer, in case he needed time to mentally prepare for the school year.

“Let’s go somewhere. Pick a city between us and I’ll meet you halfway. I’ve been saving a fuckton on rent, you’ve been saving all summer, we can get a hotel and make a time of it.”

“Really?” Michael asks.

“Yeah. Why not?”

Michael pauses. He’s never been the type of person to plan spontaneous outings, but he doesn’t really have an argument against this one. He wants to see Ashton. He wants to get out of the apartment. A two-day date in a different city sounds like the perfect solution.

“Come on,” Ashton says. “Pick the city. I’ll plan everything else.”

“Okay.”

Ashton grins. Michael automatically mirrors it. Later that night Michael gets out his computer to find the best location between them. There’s a decently large city that’s an obvious choice, and Michael doesn’t have the focus to do any more research on whether this one or one of the smaller ones has better attractions. He figures the larger it is, the more he’ll give Ashton to work with as he plans, so that’s the name he texts. Ashton texts him at midnight with an address and instructions to meet him there at 10:00. Michael mourns the loss of one of his last opportunities to sleep in, but he’d wake up before dawn to see Ashton if he had to.

-/-

Ashton is waiting outside the coffee shop when Michael pulls up. He’s leaning against the side of the building, head tilted up towards the sun and eyes closed, and Michael’s heart clenches violently in his chest. He’s beautiful. Michael has missed him so much over the past few months that he’s torn between wanting to drink in the sight of him and needing to touch him right now.

Ashton opens his eyes as Michael approaches, like he can somehow distinguish his footsteps from those of everyone else passing by. Michael knows that it’s impossible, but part of him wants to believe that he and Ashton have that sort of connection.

Ashton smiles, letting it bloom across his face like a flower in spring. Michael can barely stop himself from running the last few steps to hug him. They end up crashing together in the middle of the sidewalk either way, arms immediately clutching tightly. Michael has the single-minded goal to squeeze all of the oxygen out of Ashton’s lungs.

“Hi,” Ashton says in Michael’s ear, arms wrapped around his shoulders, pressing them together the entire length of their bodies. “Hi, I love you. Holy shit, I’ve missed you so much.”

He tries to pull away and Michael tightens his grip.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks. “I’ve been hug-deprived for months.”

Ashton snorts and resettles.

“I really fucking love you,” he sighs.

Michael smiles into his neck and soaks in the feeling.

An undetermined time later (that is probably longer than socially acceptable), Michael finally leans back enough to plant one firm kiss on Ashton’s lips, then breaks the hug fully. Ashton’s grin is wide and dopey, and he knows that his is the same and they probably look insane to everyone else, but Michael doesn’t care. Long distance sucks. Being here with Ashton is the best he’s felt in a long time.

“Hi,” Ashton repeats.

“Hi,” Michael replies. “You look like shit.”

Ashton beams, because Michael confessed to him a while ago that he only says that when he’s too overwhelmed to think of a worthy compliment, because Ashton’s ability to always look flawless is infuriating. Sometimes Michael regrets telling him, because it’s embarrassing and Ashton doesn’t need an ego, but then Ashton reacts like this and it makes Michael want to shout endless compliments from the rooftops to get a hint of that smile.

Ashton ducks forward and kisses him again. Michael has to restrain himself from getting lost in it, because they’re in public. They’re sharing a hotel room tonight, so Michael can refill on kisses then.

“Come on,” Ashton says. “Let’s go inside. I want an iced coffee.” He pulls a mask out of his pocket and Michael follows suit, then they head into the little cafe.

The intoxicating smell of coffee is potent enough to seep through Michael’s mask. The shop itself is small and cozy, with a black and white tiled floor and dark wooden tables with little kitschy coffee decorations scattered around. There are three big plush armchairs by a fireplace that could be decorative or could actually be functional, and a few children’s books are scattered on the side tables near them. Ashton tugs him towards the counter before he can look around more, greeting the barista with a friendly hello and his order. Michael adds his and a pastry, then they make quiet comments about the flavor shots available and various menu items until their orders are ready.

“So,” Ashton says when they’ve sat down and spent a bit too long smiling at each other rather than talking.

“So,” Michael repeats, taking a sip of his coffee. Ashton holds his hand out on the table, palm up, and Michael takes it so Ashton can fiddle with the promise ring on his finger. “What’s the plan for the day?”

“Well, we can’t check in to the hotel until 4, so I figured after this we could wander around downtown a bit, grab some lunch, then go to the zoo.”

“The zoo?” Michael asks. “What are we, five?”

“I’ll hold your hand the whole time and buy you Dippin’ Dots,” Ashton bribes in a singsong voice. Michael is such a sucker for him.

“That’s a very tempting offer,” Michael says, resting his chin in his palm. Ashton smiles, because he knows that Michael is a sucker for him, especially when they’re holding hands and he has Dippin’ Dots.

Ashton brings his hand to his lips and kisses it. Michael feels like he’s going to melt into a puddle of goo right there in the coffee shop. It’s like a few weeks away have reset them to an insufferable honeymoon phase rather than letting them operate like normal people out in society.

They manage to finish their coffees without making everyone around them nauseated, then walk around wasting time until they find an acceptable lunch place. Ashton points out weird-looking stores and boutiques as they go, and sometimes they enter and look around but mostly they window shop. Michael feels something inside him resettle a little every time Ashton laughs or hits his arm to point something out.

Lunch passes in much the same way as coffee did. They talk about whatever strikes their fancy and eat food that’s good but not great and hold hands across the table. Michael covers lunch because Ashton covered coffee and promised to buy him Dippin’ Dots, so it should all even out.

They can’t leave a car in the coffee shop lot for hours on end, so they have to drive separately to the zoo. It’s tragic, because one of Michael’s favorite things to do is to drive with Ashton, whether he’s in the driver’s seat or the passenger, but he follows behind him instead, always keeping his license plate in sight. They don’t get parking spaces by each other, since it’s one of the last summer weekends and the place is crowded with minivans carrying families for one last big outing before school starts, but Ashton waits for him by the main gate and obediently takes his hand the moment they enter.

“Do you want a map?” Ashton asks, side-stepping a toddler that’s paused in the middle of the walkway to stare at some of the strangers passing by.

“Nah,” Michael says. “Let’s just wander. We have a few hours.”

Ashton smiles and tugs him along the path, picking a direction and setting off until they get to the first exhibit. They stand in line an acceptable amount for some moose, then zip through the rest of the North American section relatively quickly. Ashton names every animal they pass, on occasion reading a line here or there from the signs describing them without slowing down for the whole thing. Michael judges his naming abilities and chimes in with a few of his own ideas, then they continue on and let younger kids have their turn by the fences or glass cases.

"I think we should get one of those once we move in together," Michael says, gesturing at the lion sunning herself on top of a rock outcropping.

"You want a cat?" Ashton asks. "I thought we were leaning towards a dog. I've been trying to warm up to the idea of a dog."

"I don’t want a cat, I want Sheila," Michael says. "Look at her. So majestic. So cuddly."

The lion now known as Sheila flicks her tail, but otherwise doesn't move.

"Sure, I'll kidnap her once we have a place. She'll be very happy with us."

Michael squeezes his hand, and they move past the rest of the big cats and into the aquatic building, where Ashton takes a picture of the penguins and sends it to Luke with the caption "nice to see u and ur fam out and about!!!" Michael finds the seahorses and stares at them for a bit, Ashton reading the information cards out loud when he starts to get antsy. They both decide that there are too many fish to name each one, so each tank instead gets a name and subsequent fish get numbers. When they can't waste any more time there, they head back out into the August heat, wandering further into the zoo.

Ashton gets Michael his promised Dippin' Dots between the African and Australian sections. They take a short break to sit for a few moments at one of the few clean tables, watching geese harass families in the hopes of earning a few crumbs and kids bouncing around waiting for their parents to finish.

"Food tax," Ashton says, opening his mouth. Michael rolls his eyes and takes a small spoonful of chocolate-flavored ice cream, feeding it to him across the table.

"Thanks," he says. "Instagram tax."

Michael holds up the Dippin' Dots and beams for the camera, sure that Ashton already has some good and awful secret shots he took that will end up in the photo dump whenever he decides to post.

"Come on," Michael says. "Let's go see some kangaroos."

By the time they finish their rounds of the zoo, it's well past time for them to check in at the hotel. Ashton still insists on stopping at the gift shop to look at the stuffed animals. Michael waits by the door and isn't paying attention enough to stop Ashton from bringing a lion up to the register.

"A tiny Shelia to hold you over until we can get the real thing," he says, presenting the stuffed animal to Michael with a flourish.

"Holy shit, I love you," Michael says, cuddling mini-Sheila close. "You're the best boyfriend ever." Ashton simply grins and kisses him on the cheek.

"So," he says once they're past the zoo gates, hand linked with Michael's once again and walking him to his car. "Do you want to go to the hotel or straight to dinner?"

"The hotel first," Michael says.

Ashton nods and kisses him again with a quick "see you soon."

The ride to the hotel feels like it takes simultaneously five seconds and five years. Michael is getting antsy at the idea of them getting a room to themselves for a while. He's gone multiple hours without sticking his tongue down Ashton's throat, which is a huge show of restraint when they've been apart this long, but he's so ready to do that now. He can't wait to finally fall asleep next to him again or watch shitty network TV while cuddling after dinner.

The hotel itself is a little fancier than Michael expected, if the state of the lobby is anything to go by. He goes up to the counter with Ashton while he checks in, listening when Ashton asks about good restaurants nearby and taking a key when offered. When they finally get to their room, Michael is vibrating out of his skin, but he manages to restrain himself until Ashton has set down his bag and gotten a chance to look around the room.

"Think this'll be fine for the night?" he asks, sitting on the bed to test the mattress.

"I want to kiss you so bad," Michael replies.

"Then what the fuck are you doing over there?" Michael rolls his eyes, drops his bag and mini-Sheila, plops himself right in Ashton's lap, and kisses him. Ashton immediately opens up under him, hands sliding up Michael's back, and something inside Michael slides back into place. He buries his hands in Ashton's hair and tilts them to a better angle, relishing in the familiarity of Ashton's mouth, unable to contain a sound when Ashton tries to pull him a little bit closer.

Ashton breaks the kiss long before Michael is ready.

"We need to go to dinner," Ashton says. "I wanted to woo you. Wine and dine, except maybe without the wine because one of us has to drive."

"Come on, Ash, just a bit more." He leans in again, but Ashton stops him with a finger against his lips.

"If we keep going, we're not going to stop, and I'm hungry. Dinner first, then we'll have the whole night to ourselves."

"Fine," Michael sighs. "But only because I expect to make use of the night."

"I'm counting on it," Ashton says.

“And I’m driving.”

“Okay.”

Michael gets up, checking for his keys and wallet, but doesn’t get the door open before Ashton is turning him around and pushing him gently against it, kissing him again.

“You hypocrite,” Michael says.

“Come on, Michael, just a bit more,” he teases. Michael rolls his eyes even as he’s pulling him closer.

-/-

Dinner passes by in a flash. They tell the waitress it's Ashton's birthday so they can get a free dessert, and Michael ensures that she gives the check straight to him so Ashton doesn't try to fully pay for yet another thing on this trip. The food is pretty good and the atmosphere is nice, and Michael spends most of the meal laughing and trying to remember his table manners.

Ashton sings along to the radio on the way back to the hotel, and Michael considers taking a lap around the block to hear his singing voice a bit more. In the end, he turns into the parking lot so he can watch him rather than just hear him, waiting until the chorus finishes and Ashton manages to do a really nice vocal run before shutting the car off.

"What?" Ashton asks when he catches Michael's eye.

"Nothing," Michael says. "I just love you."

"Sap," Ashton says, poking the corner of Michael's smile.

When they get back to their room, Ashton starfishes on the bed, letting out a deep breath. Michael flops down on his stomach, head pillowed on Ashton's arm, fitting the rest of himself where there's room.

"Hey," Ashton says, tilting his head to look at Michael. "You tired?"

"Nah, not yet," Michael says. "I'm a night owl."

"Yeah, and I made you get up at a reasonable time to drive here for coffee."

Michael props himself up on his elbows, looking down at Ashton. His hair is a little bit longer than Michael remembers it being at the end of the school year, honey strands fanned out against the white hotel comforter. Michael hates that he wasn't around to witness the change in real time, slow enough that he wouldn't have been able to notice, but he's glad they get some time together now.

"I'm not tired," he says, basking in the way Ashton's smile unfurls at that. "I could stay up all night. I'm not going to waste our time together with a nap."

Ashton reaches up and brushes some of Michael's hair back, fingers curling around his ear and brushing over his neck. Michael shivers.

"I've missed you," Ashton says softly. Michael moves so he's bracketing him with his arms and leans down to kiss him. It's just as familiar and intoxicating as last time.

"I've missed you, too," he hums when they part. "Thank you for planning this."

"Thanks for agreeing to it," Ashton says, slipping a hand under the hem of Michael's shirt, hot on his lower back. "I was going crazy without seeing you. I don't know if you know this, but I'm kind of in love with you."

"Really?" Michael asks. "Never would've guessed."

Ashton sticks his tongue out, so Michael kisses him again, and again, and again, and doesn't stop for a long time.

-/-

Michael wakes up to Ashton shifting in his arms. He's going slow, obviously trying not to wake Michael while he untangles himself, and Michael presses a kiss to his shoulder before he can get too far away.

"Just going to the bathroom," Ashton whispers. Michael hums and releases him.

He slept better last night than he has since school let out. They spent the evening either kissing or watching HGTV and talking about the features they want in their dream house when Michael makes it big as a producer and Ashton is a best-selling author. By the time they finally fell asleep it was into the early morning, Ashton's eyelids drooping, both of them pressed together skin to skin under the covers.

Ashton returns, pressing a kiss to Michael's cheekbone as he gets resettled.

"What time is it?" Michael asks blearily. He cracks his eyes open, happy to see Ashton in all his early morning glory, edges softened by the shadows from the curtains.

"Almost ten," Ashton says. "I got us a late check out, so we're okay for a few more hours."

"Smart."

"That's me," Ashton says. "Graduated Summa Cum Laude and everything."

Michael pushes him halfheartedly. It doesn't do anything except make Ashton roll further into his space. Michael doesn't mind, hooking a leg around his hip to keep him there.

"Oh, good morning," Ashton says. "Nice to see you, too."

"Shut up," Michael groans.

"Make me."

Michael can't back down from a challenge, and he has a lot of tricks up his sleeve when it comes to his boyfriend. He gets Ashton to shut up quickly, and Michael has the best morning since school let out.

-/-

Michael and Ashton elongate their day as much as possible, but there's only so much to do after they have to check out. They take a walk around the local park and find an art gallery to wander around in. Neither of them are particularly versed in visual art, but Michael likes pretending that they both know more than they do, commenting on lighting and colors and lines in a way that would probably annoy everyone around them if the exhibit was in any way crowded. Ashton finds a painting that he says should be the focal point of their future parlor in their mansion. Michael thinks it's super ugly, but he takes a picture of the name card anyway.

They probably won't have enough money for an art piece like that for a while given student loans and such, but maybe they will at some point, and maybe the artist will have something that they both like that could go in a modest living room in an apartment.

They eat dinner late and stay there chatting long after they've finished, ankles hooked under the table. Michael orders dessert just so they have an excuse to continue filling seats. Ashton gets chocolate sauce on his face and Michael tells him about it instead of wiping it off for him. When they finally split the check, Michael feels like he's splitting himself in half. Maybe things would be better that way. If he were in two halves, he could go back to school and go with Ashton at the same time.

"College sucks," Michael says once they get outside, lingering by their cars. "I don't want to go back."

"Run away with me," Ashton says. "You can be a starving artist and I'll be your boyfriend who sometimes puts food on the table."

"I wish," Michael says, rocking forward on his feet. "I think my parents would kill me. Besides, I have a project with the recording studio that I should probably see through. The band's not bad. It could actually turn into something."

"I hope it does," Ashton says. "Tell me when it's released."

"I will."

They descend into silence, neither of them wanting to say what comes next. Michael scuffs his toe against the pavement and wonders if it's too late to take those words back and run away together.

"Did you have fun?" Ashton asks eventually. "Was the weekend okay?"

"It was amazing, Ashton. It honestly was probably one of the best weekends of my life."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Michael grabs his hands. Ashton immediately brushes his thumb over the promise ring, and Michael hopes he keeps doing that long after the promise ring has switched to a wedding band. "I spent it with my favorite person. What's not to love?"

Ashton kisses him.

"I love you," he says.

"I know," Michael replies.

"Nerd."

Michael smiles and kisses him again.

"I love you, too," he says. "I'm going to miss you a lot."

"I'm only a few hours away," Ashton says. "I'll visit you and make you visit me. Besides, it'll be better with Calum and Luke there again."

"Yeah."

"Cheer up, buttercup. You just had an awesome weekend."

"Yeah," he repeats, squaring his shoulders. "You're right."

"Of course I am."

Michael rolls his eyes and kisses him one last time. When he drives away it still hurts, but not as much as it could.

Calum is unpacking when Michael gets in, and they stay up late catching up. He doesn't check his phone again until he goes to bed.

Ashton tagged him in an Instagram post. It's full of pictures from the weekend: Michael smiling with the Dippin' Dots, them at dinner, a selfie of them in the hotel room, mini-Sheila, and a few more secret shots he took. It's a perfect summary of the two of them, a combination of silly and sweet that makes Michael's chest feel funny. He loves him so much he might burst with it.

The caption is simply someday every day will be like this. Michael falls asleep dreaming of ugly art in their own apartment and waking up to Ashton every morning.

#my writing #mashton #college mashton #5sos fic #mmmm i love zoos and watching hgtv #lily #captain-bisexual

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opencommunion · 3 years ago

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as a west asian from an aramaic-speaking church i honestly don’t understand why some people insist on referring to jesus only as yeshua or depicting him only with “middle eastern features” (not a real thing, btw). one of the beautiful things about the incarnation, to me, is that god is both specific and universal. whether you refer to the son as yeshua, jesus, يسوع‎, isus, or call out to him wordlessly; whether you see him wearing hanbok or naked or as a blurred figure reaching out from the periphery of your imagination, he is the same. there is nothing wrong with favoring the version of his name that you learned as a child, or the one that tastes sweetest on your lips. there’s nothing shameful about any image that helps you more clearly and intensely feel his love, whether it’s a kitschy lenticular fridge magnet or a pixelated jpg of a 1500 year old fresco. and there is room to question the political implications of depictions of the incarnation that distance him from the place where he became incarnate, without attempting to enforce a “real” name or “real” appearance like he’s a taxonomized specimen in a natural history museum

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veronicasanders · 4 years ago

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(not same anon) but do you only read courtney-centred fic or are you liking other pairings too? if so, any authors/fics you like for those? thank you!

It’s not the ONLY thing I read, but it’s definitely my primary interest. I feel like in order to enjoy fanfic, I generally need 2 things, which are both 100% just personal preferences:

1. To know the queens SUPER well, beyond the Race. So like, I have a hard time getting into ships with newer queens because I just don’t spend the same amount of time I used to absorbing all of their social media. (In spite of the immense talent of many people who write these queens/ships.)

2. Some kind of complementary contrast - physical, personality-wise, or (preferably) both. This is a big reason why I love Bitney so much.

Many of the writers I mentioned before have also written non-Courtney content that I like a lot. You should totally go through their whole tags, but here are the ones that immediately come to mind as “they sucked me into a story in spite of a lack of Courtney”: Mac, Spoky, Ortega, Miss Bianca, Ashley, Citrus, Kitschy Pixel, Vixen, Rbcch, Puddle, Writworm42...I’m sure there are more and if I’ve ever sent you a love note about your fic, consider yourself included. <3

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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Until the Flavor’s Gone (17/?) (Biadore) - Kitschy Pixel

A/N: Oh wow, what’s this? An update so soon? So, THIS! This is the original chapter that I wanted to bring you but couldn’t because it just got too long. You’ve got your set up – here’s where the dominos fall. Huge special thanks to @veronicasanders for keeping me from going positively insane and helping me go through several edits of this monster and as always, feel free to hit me up on my sideblog @kitschypixel. If you’re lucky, sometimes I even take prompts.

In this chapter, time has passed and people move forward, but when you hit a roadblock, sometimes the person you want is the least qualified to help you. And then they show up anyway.

Warnings for language, implied drug use, broken hearts, nosy strangers, and a whole bunch of bullshit.

Chapter 17

They were in Boston.

Well, Courtney was fairly certain they were circling the gates of her own personal hell, but she supposed naming that ‘Boston’ would be good enough. She clutched her phone tightly, thumbs poised over the screen. She checked it regularly, trying not to seem frantic. She pressed her teeth to her bottom lip, her mind so far away she didn’t realize she was being spoken to.

She jerked her attention back to the conversation when her knee was lightly tapped. “We just met and you’re already holding out on me?” The Russian accent broke apart half way through the question and Courtney blinked a few times as she tried to translate until she realized it was already in English.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Your phone! You have like… a death grip. Do you have a… gentleman caller… lined up and ready to pound that pussy into oblivion?” The purr towards the end caused Courtney to laugh before she blew out a breath she forgot she was holding.

“God, I wish. No… I’m actually just waiting for a friend – an actual friend, that’s not a euphemism – anyway. I’m waiting for him to show up so he can take Adore to the hotel…”

“Ahhhh – is this about the – “ there was a couple of snorts and a vague gesture that Courtney felt wasn’t quite as universal as the queen across from her assumed, “you know. Whatever.”

Well, Courtney got the gist regardless and she nodded in response.

“Yes… I kind of wish I knew what it was…”

“Well,” Finger tips tapped across bright red lips as the dishevelled blonde queen squinted in thought. “Do you remember what the guy looked like? You know, the one who did the offering?”

“Mmm… brunette. Square jaw… kind of that few days without shaving look… a bit over six foot with broad shoulders wearing very tight pants…” She watched as the queen nodded and hummed, “Does he sound familiar to you at all?”

“Hmmm?” She blinked the distant look from her eyes before shaking her head, “No. Honestly, I’m just really horny and he sounded like he could be hot.” She bit her lip in a very poor attempt to look at least a little chagrined before she burst with a hiss of snickers she couldn’t be bothered to hold back.

Courtney mentally noted that she should be far more irritated by the fruitless conversation, but she found herself laughing along with the hysteric giggles instead. It helped loosen her grip a little on her phone and get her mind to drift from the rather stressful week and a half of playing mom on tour (not including the numerous weeks prior that had since blurred together). “I’m sorry… I can’t remember your name…”

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova,” she rattled off and punctuated with a snap. Courtney’s eyes crossed a little at the mouthful and tentatively started to repeat it back.

“Ye… yekata.. keta?”

“Katya,” she interjected with wide grin.

“Thank God.”

“That works too!”

Both of their heads spun towards the door when it opened, and Katya groaned dramatically in disappointment. “False alarm, it’s just… that one,” she gestured towards the short goth queen that tried to slink in stealthily, only to nearly shut her own foot in the door.

“Hey!” The queen sniffed indignantly and Courtney greeted her with a soft and hesitant hello before she re-introduced herself. “Laila.”

“Right. Sorry.” Courtney was answered with a shrug as Laila wandered over to where they were sitting and perched herself nearby. “How’s she doing out there?”

“Who? Our little drag star?” Laila batted her eyes with a dreamy sigh before cackling a bit and shrugged. “Jumped into the crowd to make out with some guy in the middle of a song and then when she tried to climb back up, she tripped and totally ate shit. It was kinda great.”

“Great…”

“As graceful as you are, I can see,” Katya jabbed lightly before Laila let out an exaggerated ‘hah!’ in response.

“I don’t have 100K followers so I can trip all I want and no one sees it.”

“It explains your tips.”

“You know what? Fuck you,” She wrinkled her nose and looked between the two queens before pointing to the phone Courtney still kept clutched in both hands. “What’s with the death grip?”

“Oh! We’re waiting for ~a man~” Katya dropped her voice into another husky growl before Courtney cleared her throat to interject.

“It’s…” She lifted one finger, taking a moment to pause before continuing her thought, “… not as suggestive as Katya makes it sound…”

“Is he hot?” Laila swung her legs a little, while Katya snapped a few times.

“Oh! Yes! Asking the real questions here!”

“No.” Courtney scoffed, almost like a reflex. She wrinkled her nose as she started to quickly backpedal with a sound akin to a deflating balloon, “eeee-weeeell… okay. I mean… he’s not ugly. He looks fine… so… yeah, okay he is kind of hot… like I wouldn’t say no if I didn’t know him… but… yeah, no. Okay… ummm….” She pressed her lips together tightly, “It’s complicated.”

“How is that compli–” the question got cut off when Courtney’s phone buzzed and she checked it with a sigh of relief before jumping up and spinning around to face the other two.

“Okay. He’s here. Behave! Especially you!” She pointed a finger at Katya who snapped at it with her teeth while making snarling noises. With another spin she darted towards the door, keeping it propped open with her back as she caught sight of Roy being let in through a nearby exit.

Courtney waved him over and wrapped him into a tight hug the second he was close enough with a soft ‘thank God’ punctuated by a deep inhale.

“Not God, but close… did you just sniff me?”

Courtney pressed her nails into his back, “No.”

“I think you did.”

“You know what? I’m not going to argue with you. I’m just glad you’re here. Come on.”

She pulled him into the dressing room, watching as Laila and Katya both perked up at his arrival. She didn’t have a chance to get another word out before Katya raised her hand.

“Excuse me, but how is this yes/no complicated hot?”

Roy’s eyebrows shot up and Courtney rolled her eyes before she gestured with her best Vanna White hands, “This is Roy,” she cut off the coy ‘hi Roy’s with a quick follow up. “And Bianca del Rio.”

“Oh? Oh. Oooooooh! Okay. Yes/no complicated it stays.”

Courtney pulled Roy off to the side as he still mused on the ‘yes/no complicated’. “Roy. Please. Focus.”

“I would but this doesn’t seem like the same kind of emergency you described over the phone. Where is she?”

“Adore?” Courtney waved in the general direction of the floor before she started to text rather rapidly, “She’s still on stage.”

Roy frowned at Courtney’s rather frantic texting, clutching the carry on bag slung over his shoulder close, trying to match up what Courtney’s ominous message meant to him with what was actually going on. “So, she’s on stage? Then she’s okay. You made it sound like she was dying.”

“Not dead yet, but she’s trying,” Courtney held up a finger at Roy’s inquisitive ‘what the fuck does that mean?’ and closed her eyes to try to keep her thoughts from spiralling off into different directions. “She’s high.”

“Good for her. Think she’ll share?”

“Roy,” Courtney snapped and gave him a stern look, “I need you to be serious right now.”

“I am being serious! What the fuck is with you? Since when are you a prude?”

Courtney sucked in a breath and stared at Roy for a long moment, just to level out her increasing annoyance at his ignorance of the situation. He had re-routed his flight and delayed his trip to New Orleans (that he was taking with his boyfriend, she mentally noted) in order to come to Boston at her request out of the concern she’d raised about Adore’s current state. He wasn’t the type to fully understand this level of heartbreak, so she pressed her lips together tightly as she tried to find words he could comprehend.

Gathering up her last bit of patience, Courtney gripped Roy by the shoulders, looked him in the eye, and began to explain – slowly. “I’m not worried about the drugs. I’m worried about the motive,” the way his eyes shot up with a sigh was enough to register that he understood what she was implying, so she moved on. “She’s got one more song and an encore, but she’s so fucking out of it, who’s to really say… I’ve alerted our driver to be on standby to take you guys back to the hotel. I just need you to keep an eye on her.”

“Why me?”

“Because she really wants to see you… and if I try to handle it anymore, I might lose my entire mind.”

“Courtney needs a strong drink and a good dick?”

“Fuck you, but yes.”

She reached out and clamped his lips shut with the tips of her fingers as she heard Adore stumble through the door, palms clamping down on her shoulders as Adore struggled to keep upright. A hoarse laugh erupted with a quiet ‘sorry’ and Courtney forced a smile and a quiet ‘it’s fine’ as Adore breezed past them both. She wagered Adore wouldn’t even have been aware of either of them if she hadn’t tripped into them. So, she cleared her throat and raised her voice a little to catch her attention.

“Adore? Look who’s here!”

Courtney lightly slapped Roy’s shoulder when he winced at the shrill pitch of her voice and shot him a really good death glare when he grimaced as Adore came closer.

“Holy fuck… are you supposed to be here?” Roy still hadn’t turned around instead craning his neck a little far when Adore wrapped her arms around him from behind and pressed her nose in the crook of his neck. “I thought you were supposed to be… to be… somewhere not here! What are you doing?”

“I… uh…” Roy looked to Courtney who shook her head and he faked a cough. Neither of them really had enough time to come up with a plausible story as to why Roy would be here and at this point, at least Roy assumed, that the truth wouldn’t be swallowed very well. So without a convincing lie, he was left floundering a little. He stopped just short of using his boyfriend as an excuse when he felt another stern look before he finally settled, rather lamely with, “I could swing it… so I’m here– wait, are you bleeding?”

Adore looked down and laughed, pointing at her knee, “Oh yeah! I need to get something for that…” She wandered over to Laila who was holding up a box of Band Aids, “Oh! They sparkle! Gimme!”

Roy got cut off from whatever smart remark he had loaded and ready by Courtney grabbing his elbows in a vice grip and a firm ‘don’t you dare’ with a growl in her voice and fire in her eyes.

“Careful, or people will know you’re a man,” Roy shot off, wrenching himself from her when she squeezed. “Owowowow!”

“I’m dead serious right now, Roy and I am begging – absolutely begging – for you to do your best to scrounge up a little self awareness and some empathy. Please.”

“Are you sure she’s not dead? She smells like she’s rotting…”

“Roy!”

“What?”

Courtney shot a look to Adore, who was still fussing with… something… she couldn’t tell what before she grabbed Roy and steered him closer to the door, dropping her voice again. “Please. Just… do this.”

“Okay, fine… but she needs to like… bathe.”

“Well, if she drowns, that’s your responsibility.”

“Really?” Roy’s jaw dropped as he shot his own appalled look at Courtney, “Are you saying you wouldn’t help me hide the body? What kind of friend are you?”

“The kind that wouldn’t let a friend accidentally drown–”

“– who said it would be an accident?”

“Roy!” Another hiss. “Empathy! Please!”

“Fine! I’ll drown her in empathy, how’s that? Now go get fucked before you become an even bigger bitch and I have two bodies I need to deal wiiiii – hi!” He slapped Courtney’s shoulder with the back of his hand when she snorted at the way his voice cracked and they both turned to face a blinking Adore. They all stood awkwardly before Courtney finally spoke up.

“So… um… Adore… Roy’s going to take you back to the hotel, okay?”

“Why?”

Roy quirked an eyebrow to see just how Courtney was going to spin this without sounding like she was trying to be Adore’s mother. It took a few long seconds before she finally managed, “Well… I mean… I figured you two might want some time to yourselves? Catch up? I mean.. It’s been… how long?”

Roy didn’t get to answer because Adore seemed to fold rather quickly, nodding quietly before offering a smile that failed to reach her eyes. “Yeah… you’re right. It has been awhile, hasn’t it?” She bit her bottom lip, eyes rolling back in thought before she shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll just get my stuff.”

Not much else was said, there was an “I told you” dancing across Courtney’s tongue but she managed to keep it bitten back. Roy and Adore left in silence but everyone in the room noticed the firm hand pressed in the small of Adore’s back as they did. Courtney sighed from relief, trying to shake off the lingering guilt for getting a little bit more involved than she probably should have – but in her defense, she hadn’t betrayed Adore’s trust outright. Roy still didn’t know the details as Courtney knew them, she’d kept the exact circumstances of her call close to her chest.

She was doing the right thing.

“That hug seemed to linger quite a long time…”

Courtney jumped with Katya at her shoulder and she closed her eyes. “It’d been a while since we’ve seen each other.”

“And did he smell good?”

“He smelled fantastic.”

Katya nodded sagely as she spun Courtney around, took her hands and patted at them gingerly, “Don’t worry, you’re in my hands now and I will take very good care of you. Do you like go-go boys with great asses and even better dicks?”

“Please.”

“Perfect.”

–––––––––––––––––––––

Adore hit the bed hard with a groan, twisting up into a ball and just staring up at the ceiling. She waited for Roy to say something first and when he didn’t, just sighed. She held onto the silence until it started to become painful, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “So what’d Courtney tell you to get you here?”

She heard the hotel bed creak as he sat down near her at the foot of the bed, her eyes sliding to his back as she waited for him to answer. She watched as he rubbed his face before tilting his head slightly to the side. “She made it sound like it was pretty serious… so I said I’d meet you guys in Boston.”

“Okay but like… what’d she tell you?” Adore pushed herself up onto her side, staring down at the bedspread and tracing the pattern with her two index fingers, squinting a little at how the cheap, thin comforter rippled under her touch and the light scratching noise of her nails against the fabric. “Your… what’s his name… know you’re here?”

“She didn’t really tell me much, Dan–” he cut himself off with the way Adore’s lips twisted a little. The ‘sorry’ so quiet on the exhale, she was almost sure he didn’t say it.

“It’s fine, you know,” she replied anyway, pulling at her wig, “It doesn’t matter. Still me no matter what, right? Just a wig and make-up.”

The scoff was harsh and the way the pins pulled at the hair underneath as she tried to rip the wig off her head made her whine. She batted at his hands as he tried to help before he tried to soothe her with a very gentle “You’re making it worse, asshole. Hold still.”

She fidgeted as he finally finished unpinning the wig and pulled it off with a very soft ‘Christ’. Her eyes stayed on his face as he grimaced, running his hand over the tangled wig that reeked of sweat and stale perfume before he looked it over and asked, “You have a brush for this thing?”

Adore shook her head, “Too punk rock for that shit.”

“Right… and what about your own hair?”

Another shrug and Roy rolled his eyes before taking the empty ice bucket and flipping it upside down, using it as a temporary wig stand before he pointed to the bathroom. “Get up. Go. You’re disgusting. Go!” He waved her to the door until she finally stepped into the bathroom and she got a good look of herself in the mirror. Her hair was greasy and her scalp felt raw, and there were signs where she’d simply just sweated off her make-up and then reapplied for the past couple of nights. “Take your clothes off and get in.”

Standing in the harsh white light of a hotel bathroom, she suddenly didn’t have the energy to really argue. She struggled out of most of her clothes before she turned to the bathtub. “It’s empty.”

“Good job, genius. It’s for the best. Get in.”

Rolling her eyes felt gritty, so she rubbed them instead and did as asked, knees bent, hands on the cold porcelain as she stared at the tile. She scratched a little at the grout before following it with the pad of her finger, pursing her lips and looking pensive as she followed the maze of lines.

The ice water hit her scalp first, ran down the back of her neck and down the center of her spine, making her suck in the myriad of curse words before expelling them in a string of very loud insults, “What the fuck, you rotted cunt? Shit!”

“Keep your voice down. It’s three in the morning.”

Adore sputtered as a damp washcloth was dropped on her head. She took it and wrung it tightly in her hands, staring at it. “What the fuck am I doing?”

“Whore bath for a whore,” Roy spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as he sat down on the floor, with his back against the tub, setting aside the water glass with the sample sized shampoo and conditioner that had been displayed on the counter. He handed her the make-up wipes he’d found with them, giving her a place to start. She took the hint and removed her lashes, pressing them against the edge of the tub.

It took a moment for him to speak again, as she pouted and scrubbed at the layers of make-up on her face, and when he did – it made her pause.

“So what’d you take tonight?”

There was a twinge of curiosity that cancelled out the usual judgemental tone a question like that usually carried. But she acted as if it was still accusatory, just because she wanted to.

“What’s it matter? Sure it’s nothing compared to the shit you’ve done, right?”

She couldn’t see the way he pressed his lips together, but heard the way he clicked his tongue. “Yeah…” he remarked, slouching a bit and tilting his head back a bit. “Probably right…” Another click and he tilted his head to the side again. “I’m gonna offer you some advice, though…”

“I’m fine.”

“Fact that you smell like a stale bag of Fritos says different, now shut up…” he held up a finger before he sighed. “I’m not gonna tell you what to do, because this is your load of bullshit to deal with… but know what the fuck someone is giving you. Just… in case.”

Adore stared at the foundation streaked make-up wipe before she started to rub furiously at her eyes. “So Courm told you about Cleveland…” she squinted in thought before muttering, “Or was it Philly?”

“No.” Roy raised an eyebrow as he pulled the make-up wipe from her hands when she couldn’t seem to stop staring at it as she twisted it tightly one way and then another. Adore grasped at thin air a few times and then turned to face Roy, resting her chin on the edge of the tub and looked towards his face with wide, puppy-like eyes.

“Can you help me wet my hair?”

They both shuddered at that hollow, rubbery ‘flomp’ sound of skin sliding against the barely damp tub surface. Roy was still wincing as Adore got herself situated, followed by a sheepish ‘sorry’. “It’s fine,” Roy remarked before he turned on the facet to a slow trickle, palm pressing against Adore’s forehead to keep her from knocking it against the metal when she reared upwards when it made contact. “Careful! You don’t need a head injury, Jesus…”

“Are you trying to burn my scalp off now?” Adore seethed and Roy helped her sit up so he could check the water temperature.

“You’re lucky I’m not scrubbing you with Lysol, now quit complaining!” He got the temperature down to just below scalding before he helped Adore lean back again. Her eyes rolled upwards and she closed them for a moment, just letting his fingers press against her scalp before she started sniffling.

“You okay?”

The question sounded stiff and rehearsed with genuine concern bleeding through just enough to soften it.

“Yeah… yeah I’m just…” She sat back up slowly, pressing her fingers into her forehead before a sob burst forward. She sucked it back quickly, palms to her eyes as she forced out a laugh. A hand to her shoulder made her lift her head, and she took the small shampoo bottle that was offered. Clutching it in her fingers, she just stared at it as reality seemed to snap back with harsh lines and sharpened edges before blurring out with the tears that pooled in her eyes.

“You wanna pick an emotion, there?”

“Pathetic and embarrassed,” Adore blinked slowly, letting the tears fall before hiding her face with her knees.

“So normal. Good. I was almost worried.”

A soft giggle shuddered forward, weak and breathless. It made her chest hurt and her heart felt raw but that smile still managed to reach her eyes as she shook her head and hoarsely whispered, “You’re such a fucking dick.”

She lathered up her hair making it stand up straight before looking over at him again. “This would have been so much easier if you’d just let me take a normal shower.”

“Maybe,” he let her lean back, a hand shielding her eyes as he helped her rinse the shampoo from her hair, “But Courtney said she wouldn’t help me hide your body if you drowned, so I couldn’t take that risk.”

She dropped her jaw and looked appalled as she sat back up and sputtered, “You would hide my body? Why not call 911?”

“I’m not going to risk potentially going to jail just because your ex is an asshole… now tip your head back, you’re not done.”

Roy pressed the side of his hand to her forehead as he finished rinsing out her hair. She blinked upwards a few times before closing her eyes. “How do you know he was the asshole? Do you even know what happened or why we broke up? I could have been the one who like… cheated on him or whatever.”

“I know I’ve been busy, but I’m not completely oblivious and I know how social media works. I got the gist of what happened… please don’t start crying again, Jesus Christ.”

“Sorry! I’m sorry… I just…” Roy let her sit up and wipe at her eyes, still sniffling. He looked downward to the floor, letting her compose herself. She swiped her hands across her eyes before sniffling and offering a very weak smile, “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“Yes. But not for what’s…” he made a vague gesture in her direction, “…going on right now…” He tossed a fluffy white towel at her and sighed. “Get out, dry off… find some clean clothes and I’ve got something to show you…” He paused a beat as he caught a very familiar spark in her eyes, “Before you say anything, let me ask you… do you really think it’s a good idea to crack a joke about my dick right now?”

“Well, not when you take the fun out of it like that.”

“Just get dressed.”

–––––––––––––––––––––

Drying off, and feeling kind of clean for the first time in probably four days, he looked in the mirror and saw… Danny. And with Danny came the ugly realization that he was a complete wreck of raw emotion and tangled up heartbreak that he’d been trying to ignore for all of these weeks and was doing a really piss poor job of doing so.

And he started crying again, before he even had a chance to stop it. He was sitting, doubled over, on the lid of the toilet with the towel balled up against his face when Roy came back to check what was taking him so long. His eyes were puffy, his face felt tight, and he was trying to wipe the snot from his nose as he caught sight of Roy loitering in the doorway, fingers tapping rapidly on either side, looking down at the floor.

“Think you’re going to make it or are you living in the bathroom now?”

Danny’s lips twitched and he leaned forward, reaching for Roy and wrapping the fabric of the man’s shirt in his fist before pulling him towards him. Roy complied, letting Danny close the gap between them to wrap his arms tightly around his middle.

“You smell good.”

“It’s called showering regularly. You should try it.”

“Be nice to me or I’ll cry.”

“Hah! Like that’s stopped you so far…” Danny closed his eyes and smiled as Roy lightly played with his hair, ruffling it as he took a step back. “Okay, seriously. This bathroom is making me depressed, can we go now?”

Danny nodded and used Roy to hoist himself back up onto his feet. He shuffled out of the bathroom to his suitcase, dug through it for some underwear and a clean t-shirt, and got dressed as Roy sat on the bed, back against the headboard. He crawled into bed, sliding across the comforter and curling up at Roy’s hip, arm across his lap.

“Sobering up a little?”

There was a non-committal grunt in reply before Danny rolled onto his back, pressed his fingers to his eye sockets for a moment and just stared up at the ceiling. “Fuck…” her muttered before closing his eyes tight. They burned a little from crying. He sniffled again before he finally managed to slide his focus back to Roy. “You said something about a present?”

“Yup,” Roy reached over and grabbed the small carry on bag he had with him and dug around it before producing a Ziploc bag that he tossed onto Danny’s chest. Danny pushed himself up on his elbows and squinted a little as he slowly sat up and opened the bag, removing the stack of papers – no. wait. photos – from inside.

“Oh my God…” He gasped and grinned as he recognized a few of them from Roy’s Facebook. “No way…” he started to rifle through them before his grin broke and softened into a genuine smile. “You brought me baby Bianca pictures?”

“I thought you might get a kick out of them.”

“Holy. Shit…” He couldn’t control the elated giggles, soft and raspy in pure delight as he flipped the photo in his hand over to look at the back. “They’re even dated, you fucking nerd!”

“I can take them back.”

“Noooo!” Danny whined and curved over them to shield the small pile he’d made with his body. “I’m looking!”

He righted himself up and gathered his pile, flipping through each photo, pausing at the ones he hadn’t already seen. He let out a low whistle at one from Bianca’s Cher impersonating days, “Damn, you use to be fucking hot,” he lightly smacked Roy’s thigh at the answering scoff. “Shut up, you know you were hot…” He grinned at the way Roy’s lips twitched to one side and pointed, “See? You know.” He laughed when Roy fell silent and didn’t offer any argument.

Danny thumbed through the pile rather quickly, pausing at some of the photos. There was one he’d set aside to come back to once he got through the rest of the pile, leaving it out as he slid the rest of them back into the Ziploc bag and then handed it to Roy. “Tell me the story on that one…”

Roy raised an eyebrow as he took the photo in hand and tilted his head. Danny wrapped an arm around his middle again, chin on his shoulder and he smiled a little. “Not much to tell…” he mused. “It was… 2001, so I was still in New Orleans. It was a photoshoot that had two other queens… both of them were late as fuck…”

Danny hummed and smiled, “Let me guess… you were on time?” Roy offered him a side glance and a confirming nod, but nothing else before he cleared his throat and shrugged.

“But yeah. That’s really it. This was taken while we were waiting for them. Why do you ask?”

Danny shrugged one shoulder as Roy handed the photo back to him – Bianca looking off into the distance, dressed in white with black hair, the lighting soft and surreal. He took it back and cradled it in his hands. There was something ethereal and warm and very different from the heavy handed camp clown that Bianca had aged into. It made Danny’s heart skip a couple of beats and he held his breath for a second or two before he shrugged again and replied with a fresh smile. “You just look really beautiful, that’s all.”

“Then keep it.”

“Really?”

“What am I going to do with it? If you like it, just have it.”

Danny felt a weird flutter somewhere in his chest, a sense of relief that jumped around a couple times before settling back down and making him feel a little lighter. His smile got wider and sweeter before he leaned in, hugged him and kissed his cheek, before nuzzling his shoulder and sighing from content. “You’re the best. Thank you.”

“Mmhm.”

“I’m serious. Really. Thank you.”

“It’s just a photo, Danny.”

“No. It’s more than that and you know it.”

They sat in silence for a minute or two before Danny got up to put the photo under his phone so he wouldn’t forget it. He settled down, head on the pillow and looked up at Roy before asking, meekly, “Are you happy?”

Roy cocked his head to the side to consider the question, “Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah.”

There was a long sigh before he gave up a nod and a very weak smile that didn’t quite tell everything. “It’s… not really easy right now, but overall? Yeah.”

“Are you in trouble for coming to visit me?”

“No. That’d be the last thing on the list of things I could be in trouble for…” his voice trailed and he shook his head at Danny’s perplexed expression, “I don’t want to get into it tonight.”

“Okay…”

“I’m serious, Danny.”

“Okay! I’m serious too. Subject dropped…” He couldn’t tell if he was being extra touchy just because of whatever leftover effects of… whatever it was that had been offered to him… or if it was just natural for him when he was this close to someone as familiar as Roy, but he found himself fiddling with the belt loop on Roy’s jeans, just picking at it and hooking his finger on it before little it go. Roy didn’t stop him and they stayed in another stretch of silence that Danny broke again.

“When do you have to leave?”

“In a few hours.”

“So if I fall asleep, you’ll probably be gone when I get up?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Used to it…” he trailed a bit and wrinkled his nose, “That wasn’t supposed to…”

“Nah. I get it. I know.”

Yet another pause in conversation and Danny started to settle further, “Hey…”

“Mmm?”

“Are you at least going to stay for those few hours?”

Roy nodded before he tilted his head to Danny. “Yeah. I can, if you want.”

“I want…” Danny closed one eye and wrinkled his nose again as he tried to piece together his next request, “Um… can you…? God, this sounds stupid and needy but…” he bit his lip, the words just not falling into place quite right. “Never mind…”

He turned onto his side, back to Roy, until he heard shuffling behind him. He turned over to see Roy settling under the hotel comforter, glasses off and hat removed, a hand under his head and eyes closed. He stared at him for a long moment before Roy cracked open one eye and waved Danny closer. “Stop gawking, asshole. If you want me to stay, I might as well get comfortable.”

The invitation was clear and Danny joined him under the covers, curling up to him and cuddling close. A single arm wrapped around him and one hand rested on his shoulder, that newly freed up spot in his chest filling with a comfortable warmth as he closed his eyes.

“Hey, Roy?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope things work out and you can stay happy.”

“Thanks.”

“Um… Roy?”

“What?”

Danny pressed a light kiss to Roy’s cheek again and whispered to his ear, “Thanks for showing up.”

“Well… it was either show up or listen to Courtney whine until this fucking tour was over, but you’re still welcome.”

Danny hummed and closed his eyes, halfway to sleep before he murmured one more time. “And Roy?”

“What now?”

“You’re so great.”

That got a laugh, a set of fingers pushing back his hair and lips to his forehead. “You’re not so bad yourself. Now get some sleep.”

There was a nearly inaudible ‘okay’ in reply as Danny finally managed to drift off comfortably for the first time in a number of nights that he’d lost count of.

And it wouldn’t be until he half woke up as Roy moved him with a whispered apology so he could gather his stuff – when he was still groggy and still full of sleep, with a cloudy brain and weighted limbs – that he latched onto the pillow that still smelled a little like Roy’s shampoo. It wouldn’t be until he croaked out a slurred ‘good-bye, I miss you’ to Roy’s whispered farewell and he heard the automatic lock on the hotel door click closed and he was finally left alone that a portion of his brain, one caught in between consciousness and sleep, in that sweet limbo where the blankets feel just right against your skin and the temperature in the room is just right and your buzzing brain feels at peace, that Danny could finally feel it.

That rotting, heavy, benign bitterness he’d been toting around for months had finally jarred loose and melted away and the sweet, warm content that had blossomed hours before had decided to take root.

He finally felt okay.