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myloveforhergoeson · 2 years ago

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That's All She Wrote - Chapter 14

Previous Chapter

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Show: Big Time Rush

Pairing: James Diamond x Original Female Character

Chapter 14: Broken Strings/No Strings Attached (1.14) ~ 13k

As soon as the school bell rang, signaling the end of the Palm Woods School final exam, Roxy was more than happy to pack her items up and get ready to bolt out the door. Summer was finally upon them, meaning she had more time than ever to sit down and focus on her songwriting. With only a few months until Big Time Rush’s first album came out, there was no time to spare to try and squeeze in a few more hits.

Miss Collins stood at the front of the classroom, smiling down at her students as she waved her hands toward the class. “Okay, everyone, pencils down. Pass your finals forward, and I’ll see you all at tonight’s end-of-year Palm Woods School party!”

This fact caused the girl to lend an ear to the conversation, pausing her packing, supposing she could take one night off in order to let loose and celebrate her hard work. Now that a few months had passed in Los Angeles, and the five had gotten to know their classmates better, the promise of a party with them sounded extra intriguing; seeing everyone in one place outside of the classroom might give them time to form even better connections.

However, as Roxy and the band met this news with a grin, they looked around in confusion as the rest of the class let out exasperated groans at their teacher's comment.

“Wow,” Logan scoffed from the row of tightly packed desks in front of his assistant, turning to Camille beside him. “Everyone seems really not excited.”

The ravenette shook her head, trying to act as though she was just into the party like her crush was even if she had joined in on the groan-fest. “No! It’s really great, we get cupcakes, punch, and entertainment…” Her smile faded. “By Bitters.”

Well if the entertainment is the issue… Roxy threw her eraser across Jo’s desk to her right, hitting Kendall in the arm to get his attention. Leaning behind her friend’s blonde waves, she spoke directly to the frontman “Tell Miss C. Big Time Rush can be the entertainment this year. You four need stage practice.”

Nodding, the singer turned her suggestion over before confidently raising his hand. “Miss Collins? Don’t you think we could do something remotely cool for our end-of-the-year school party?”

It seemed as though he had heard Logan and Camille’s conversation as well.

“Like a dance!” James lit up next to the front man.

A chorus of “Ooh’s” erupted in the classroom. That boy sure knew how to command a crowd.

Logan snapped his fingers, pointing at the wannabe in agreement, using his suggestion to voice his own as he nervously glanced at the girl beside him. “With slow dances.”

“And dates to slow dance with!” Chimed in Carlos, already turning to face the row behind him to wiggle his brows at all three Jennifers and the new ghost-girl, Stephanie King.

Raising her hand as well, the assistant offered, “With a live performance from Big Time Rush.”

Nodding in agreement as they took the information in, the class seemed entirely on board with this idea, everyone turned to their teacher to gain her approval for their party.

“Well, we’ve never had a school dance before, because we’re really just one small classroom, but if a certain band and their songwriter-assistant want to be the new school dance committee, that sounds great!” The woman grinned, before turning gravely serious and crossing her arms. “So you need to find a theme, snacks, decorations, chaperones, and we have no money, no place to have it, and since today’s the last day of school, we need to have it tonight.”

No problem. Roxy thought, writing everything her teacher had mentioned down in a neat checklist so nothing would be forgotten. She had even begun jotting down loose ideas for themes before Kendall grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of the classroom with the rest of the band, heading into the lobby to finalize their plans.

“Okay!” He called, everyone circling up around him, eager and bright-eyed at the prospect of having a party in less than seven hours. “The theme of our dance is…”

His assistant cut him off, listing off her choices before anyone could get their word in, “A Night in Paris, Enchanted Forest, Carnevale, Disco Fever-”

“No!” He stopped her, the boys joining in as if they had somehow rehearsed their next statement. “Move our butts, ‘cause we gotta do this fast!”

Idiots.

With her ideas going ignored, Roxy left the band to their own devices as they squabbled out plans with each other. Walking towards the staircase, she noticed Jo, Camille, and Stephanie sitting in one of the lounge areas of the lobby. The three were giggling at something Jo had said as she lazily glanced over to Kendall.

“Hey, Roxy!” Camille greeted, curls bouncing as she turned her head in the assistant’s direction. “Jo was just telling us about her dreamy fantasy where Kendall asks her to be his girlfriend!”

Taking a seat on the arm of Jo’s chair, the assistant poked her friend on the shoulder, “I think he might be a little too involved in the planning process to think of that at the moment”

Across the way, Stephanie shifted in her seat, anxiously running her fingers through her brown locks. “Do you think you’re going to ask anyone to the dance?”

“Oh. Um,” The writer looked towards Jo and Camille for a bit of help. After last week’s ordeal with Dak, the pair were having trouble working through the logistics of the fight they had; her friends had been such troopers as the girl did her best to work through her relationship troubles.

She and Dak had called a few times since to try and talk it out, but he was unrelenting in believing Roxy was spending too much time with the band. It was getting exhausting having to remind him it was literally her job to look after them and on top of that, they were her friends. She wasn’t interested in giving up four of her most important friendships simply because the guy she was kind of into didn’t like it. Though she recognized that he was more than welcome to have his own feelings about her personal life, he had no right to tell her who she could or couldn’t be friends with, nor was it fair for him to assume she would comply with his every controlling action. Dak wasn’t even her boyfriend; his behavior was more than a little concerning, yet she still found herself drawn toward him. The only reason she had been picking up his calls anymore were hopeful attempts to smooth everything out and get things back to the way they used to be.

Poor Camille and Jo had near daily updates as the girl needed a safe space to vent - lucky for her, her friends lived for the drama.

Finally able to formulate a reply, Roxy sighed. “Not anyone from the class.”

“Speaking of,” Jo quickly changed the subject before any more questions could be asked. “Here comes Kendall. I think he’s gonna ask me to the dance.”

Slowly, the frontman sauntered over to where the girls were sitting with the other three band members in tow. “Jo! Hey, I need to ask you something.”

From her chair, the actress flashed him a pearly, white smile, batting her eyes as she looked up at her crush.

“Could you go to the convenience store and get them to donate some snackage for the dance?”

Jo’s smile faltered for a second before he was able to detect a hint of change on her face. “Oh, sure, Kendall.” Unsure of what to say next, the blonde turned back to her friends in confusion. Roxy swirled her finger in the air, attempting to make a “help him get there” gesture. “Is… that the only thing you wanted to ask me?”

“Oh, no, um…” He brought his hands to his face as a thought connected, covering his mouth as if it was stupid he had forgotten. “Could you get some pop too?”

By this point, Jo was done trying to contain her frustration, mumbling “Sure,” before getting up and storming off towards the staircase.

The writer shot him a death glare, but the blond didn’t seem to notice as James moved on to the next stage in their plan, “Now we need a dance location!”

Jo’s friends turned to each other now that the conversation had turned, an unspoken connection the pair understood as Camille ran after the hurt girl and Roxy trailed after the boys in order to call a car service to take them to Rocque Records and ask Gustavo to host the dance. While they were still tossing ideas around as to where they thought the dance should be held, their assistant was many steps ahead of them. At the very least, this meant the assistant didn’t need to be a part of the conversation with Bitters in which the band tried to get the venue at the Palm Woods conference center.

How could they have not known the Hot Doctors Convention was in town?

Soon after the hotel manager had turned them down, and the band decided not to rent a warehouse in L.A.’s murder district, Kendall finally had the bright idea to ask their boss even if it took longer than the writer had anticipated. With a smile, Roxy was more than happy to escort the band into the car already idling at the curb outside the hotel to take them to Rocque Records. The sooner the planning was over with, the sooner she could go dress shopping.

Once they arrived, the guys wasted no time bolting down the hallway, Roxy doing her best to keep up with them as they entered their producer’s office.

Sitting at his desk was Gustavo, with Kelly overlooking something he had been working on over his shoulder.

“Gustavo, we were wondering,” Kendall began before the other three joined in a chorus of: “Can we have a school dance here tonight?”

A hello would’ve been nice.

Anticipating a classic Gustavo scream, the band covered their ears in hopes of staving off hearing damage. Normally, Roxy would join in but she felt she and Gustavo would be on the same wavelength about the dance - it was a perfect opportunity for some live practice; a win-win situation for everyone involved.

“Sure.” He said calmly, not even looking up from whatever he and the talent scout had been examining.

All members of BTR started shouting at once, not even registering the fact he had agreed to their request. Clearing her throat, Roxy gave them a chance to evaluate what they had actually heard, not what they thought they would hear.

Sensing this as well, Gustavo looked up from the computer and dramatically rolled his eyes, sighing before saying, “You can have your dance at my studio on one condition. You must sing tonight onstage in front of everyone.”

Yes! The girl allowed herself a silent victory dance at the back of the room.

“We need to start getting you guys some stage practice!” Kelly joined in.

“And since you will be terrible tonight, at least the audience won’t boo and throw bottles at you.”

Raising her hand, Roxy politely added, “I’m more than willing to boo and throw bottles at them for dodging practice.”

The producer cocked his head, looking at her funny. “You’ll be up on stage with them, Roxanne. Have we got a deal?”

“Deal!” Big Time Rush agreed, with little regard for the flash of panic that raced through their assistant.

“Mr. Rocque, they’re in the band, not me.” She said, moving past the moments of noisy celebration, jerking her thumb towards the four boys beside her.

Shrugging, the man shuffled a few of the papers on his desk around. “They sound better when you play along with them. It’s a stupid morale thing or whatever.”

“Now, let’s hit the studio and rehearse a dance!” Kelly suggested before Roxy could protest anymore.

At her statement, James clapped, “We need to find dates? Got it.”

In an instant, the four boys busted out of the office, presumably to make their way back home to the Palm Woods to figure out the night’s date situation.

“Well, now’s probably a good time to show you my new song, Mr. Rocque.”

***

After finishing up “Stuck”, Gustavo allowed Roxy some time away from party planning to go dress shopping while he called the famous choreographer Mr. X to work out a dance routine for tonight’s performance.

As she hailed a cab on Hollywood Boulevard to take her to Rodeo Drive, Los Angeles’ most famous and expensive shopping district, she got a text from Kendall.

K: Think Kelly + Gustavo count as chaperones?

R: I’m not with them anymore, should’ve asked sooner

R: Thought dates were more important?

Roxy didn’t want to tell him outright he needed to invite Jo, that was certainly a conclusion the boy needed to come to all on his own, but hoped that he had noticed how upset his crush was earlier and would want to remedy the situation.

K: For some of us more than others

K: You gonna invite Dak?

R: Not sure. still upset with him

R: I don’t want to be with someone who’s rude to my friends

R: Jealousy is sooo unattractive

K: Lol

Yikes. That was a bit serious.

R: Whoops, meant to send that to jo n camille ;P

R: See you back at the PW

The ride quickly came to an end, dropping Roxy right in the heart of the high-end fashion center. Standing on the edge of the street, the girl took in the designer shops all around her and mentally prepared herself to spend at least all of her last two paychecks. Her week had been incredibly stressful and there was nothing like retail therapy to fill the movie star-sized hole in her heart.

Not even checking the name of the store she walked into first, the girl giggled as two handsome men in black, well-fitting suits opened the door for her.

“Welcome, Miss,” The one on the right said, a gentle smile resting on his chiseled face.

From the left, the other doorman crossed his arm in front of his chest with a slight nod, “Let us know if we can be of any assistance.”

Pretending as though she was picking up the delicate edges of a large, dressy skirt in her hands, she dipped into a slight curtsey, “Thank you, gentleman.”

Oh yeah, She thought. I could get used to this.

Once inside the store, the writer ignored the stale, stuffy atmosphere as a faint tune of classical music filled the space. The pure white walls were carved into beautiful faux columns and allowed the colorful merchandise to pop right out of their displays.

Marveling at the beautiful clothing items that surrounded her, Roxy came to the realization she had given no prior thought to just what she wanted for a dress. It was a school dance after all. No need to get too fancy or out of the box; something simple and fun would do for the night. There was only one person she was dressing for tonight - herself.

Footsteps clacked on the marbled flooring as she walked the incredible length of the entire store, passing by many people who were much wealthier than she was. Though, it was a bit hard to ignore their snobbish stares as she began to examine a garment, check the price tag, and immediately place it back on the rack. She had been prepared to spend a nice chunk of change, but not that much.

Too long, too short, too transparent… Reaching out to touch the tulle-looking fabric on one of the dress skirts, she caught herself before completing the action, feeling a pair of unwelcome eyes raking over her body. One of the saleswomen on the other side of the floor loudly and obnoxiously cleared her throat before stepping up to the assistant.

“Might I recommend an item from our winter collection? It might… better suit your needs.” She asked, looking down on the girl from the monstrous hight her heels gave her.

More like suit my price range Roxy bit her cheek, noticing a severe lack of price tags on the items in this section of the store she had meandered into. No way I’m wearing something from last year.

Blinking a few times, the writer smiled, noticing the woman’s name tag read Millicent. “No, thank you. I’m more than happy to browse by myself.”

“All shoppers here need a personal liaison with them at all times. You can’t get any of the merchandise otherwise.” Millicent continued smiling, but her eyes conveyed a hint of annoyance.

“The guys at the door didn’t mention that. I’ve been doing just fine the last half hour I’ve been in here.”

Millicent dropped her smile, “Listen, kid. If you’re not going to buy anything you need to leave. We only take serious customers here and don’t waste our time on broke wannabe actresses like you. We’ve got an important client coming in and they need their privacy. Come on.”

“What?” Flew out of Roxy’s mouth, unable to filter her next words as they continued pouring out. “I’m a paying customer, just like everybody else. You can’t just tell me I need to leave because an ‘important client’ is coming.”

“I’m not going to tell you again: Get lost.” The woman made herself clear before grabbing the assistant’s arm and dragging her toward the storefront. Red, pointy nails poked into her skin as Roxy dug her heels into the hard ground, not at all understanding the woman’s unkind attitude or why she needed to leave before glancing around and noticing there weren’t any other shoppers in the store anymore. A million scenarios ran through her mind as she scanned through every single one that might help get this woman’s hands off of her and give her the ability to walk out of the store with some semblance of dignity.

What would the boys do? Racking her brain more and more to try and understand what she had done to cause a situation like this to occur, she came to her conclusion. Lie.

A wicked grin shot across the girl’s face as she very obviously pulled out her cell phone in front of the sales attendant, trying to ignore the feelings of the acrylics nailing her upper arm. “I don’t think my boyfriend, Dak Zevon, would enjoy learning that one of the employees at his favorite store was harassing his girlfriend as she was trying to buy something nice for their date tonight.”

“Do you think I’m that stupid? I can’t tell you how many girls have tried that one out on me.” Millicent deadpanned, continuing to try and drag the girl out of the store. Roxy hadn’t even realized how far into the place she had gotten, it was practically a labyrinth at this point.

Just as the girl opened her mouth to spit some nasty words at the woman, a voice coming from one of the other rooms cut her off.

“Well, I’d certainly hope it wasn’t too many. There’s only so much of me to go ‘round.” Stopping in her tracks, the writer turn to face the sound; she’d know that voice anywhere. “Roxy, baby, is this lady bothering you?”

You’ve got to be kidding me. Of course, she would happen to walk into the one store in all of Hollywood Dak Zevon happened to decide to shop in that afternoon. Sauntering over to the two women, Dak flashed a dazzling smile toward the sales associate. Stay calm, stay calm.

The look that formed on Milicent’s face made Roxy wish she had a camera to record her jaw hitting the floor. As Dak wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist, pulling her out of the woman’s tight grasp, she glanced up at him while faking a pout and giving a slight nod.

Looking on at the “couple” now standing in front of her, the saleswoman began to vigorously shake her head. “I had no idea that this… girl… was your guest Mr. Zevon. I was only trying to improve your shopping experience by removing any other patrons from the store. My boss didn’t tell me you had anyone coming with you, I swear!”

Waving his hand in front of his face, the actor indicated the mix-up was no big deal. “I’ll be sure to make a note of it next time I come in. In the meantime, mind helping my girl here find the perfect dress for our date tonight?”

Without another word, Milicent sprinted out of the room to make a collection of items to show the teens leaving the pair alone and in person for the first time since their ordeal the previous week. It was safe to say Roxy was thoroughly embarrassed Dak had caught her in her lie, yet found it very charming he swooped in to rescue her at the hands of the evil retail worker. All of her negative feelings towards him seemed to disappear as he pulled her tighter into his embrace.

“Ugh,” He sighed, squeezing her into his chest so hard she could barely breathe. “I’m so sorry about everything that’s happened this past week. It’s been hard getting time away from set to come over and tell you that in person.”

“It’s fine.” Lied the writer, supposing in the grand scheme of things there could have been a far worse outcome to their disagreement. Relationships were all about compromise anyway.

At her words, a look of relief washed over his face; Maybe he was more shaken up about their fight than she had thought. Over the phone, he had been practically unrelenting about her relationship with the guys, but maybe all he needed was to see her alone to remember how special she was to him.

How romantic… For a hypothetical situation I just made up.

Quietly, Dak lead the writer over to a small, white sofa towards the back of the room as they waited for Milicent to come back with her selections. After a silent minute he poked her in the side, waggling his eyebrows, “Wanna tell me where we’re going tonight?”

Blinking a few times, Roxy had almost forgotten the entire reason that got her into this mess in the first place.

“My school is having an end-of-the-year get-together dancy thingy, so I figured I’d splurge on a nice outfit to celebrate the hard work I’ve done these past few months in L.A.” She shared, before casting her gaze from his clear blue eyes to the marbled flooring. “Sorry for telling the lady we were together, she just freaked me out and I figured if I used your name she might leave me alone. If it bothers you, I won’t do it again.”

“I like the sound of that a lot, Roxanne Somerset - my girlfriend!”

Just as she opened her mouth to respond, though her heart pounded so loud in her ears she feared she may not be able to form a coherent thought, Milicent returned to the room with a whole rolling rack of beautiful gowns. It was a strange experience, having someone bringing the clothes to her instead of roaming the racks looking for something to her liking. If that was one of the perks of being with Dak, Roxy supposed it was something she could quickly get used to.

Ignoring the fact that each article of clothing was probably more expensive than her entire wardrobe combined, she carefully scanned the rack for something that caught her eye while Dak scrolled through his socials on the couch. Anything too flashy was out, so no excessive sparkles or shine, and there was no need for a long skirt or train, eliminating half the dresses she had been shown.

It wasn’t until she pulled the last dress off the rack and held it up to her body in the mirror did she feel a connection to anything. A simple, dark green coctail dress with poofy, transparent sleeves shouldn’t have stood out to her so much, but when she glanced behind her own image in the reflection, she saw Dak completely dazed as he looked up at her.

While the dress looked as if it would be slightly form-fitting, Roxy decided even if it wasn’t her style at least someone thought she would look beautiful in it.

Dak… My boyfriend… My first boyfriend. She thought as her eyes flickered to the dress and back to him in the mirror a few times. It wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot.

Milicent, who hadn’t spoken since she had brought the items out, gently took the dress from the girl and looked over Roxy’s shoulder toward the movie star. “Would you like me to package this up and charge it to your account, Mr. Zevon?”

Nodding, Dak stood up, “That would be great! Can you add a pair of matching heels, too?”

The two began to discuss other accessories to accompany the dress as well, talking through Roxy as if she wasn’t even there - as if she wasn’t able to dress herself for a nice occasion. While she was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, this entire interaction was making her incredibly uncomfortable, watching from the background as they went back and forth, deciding to add on matching jewelry and mentioned collaborating with the shop next door to find the ideal makeup products for a full glam look.

“Woah, woah, woah!” The writer interrupted, waving her hands around in an attempt to capture Dak’s attention. “As kind as that is, just the dress is fine. It’s just a school dance so there’s no need to pull out all the stops.”

Now, she turned to the sales associate, “And please just ring it up for me, I’ll pay for it myself.”

Dak cocked his head, “Are you sure, babe? It’s no problem. I don’t want you to feel underdressed on our big day.”

Glancing down at her current outfit, some dusty old flats, a pair of black leggings, and a blue tank top, Roxy shifted awkwardly. From the eyes of the shopping assistant, no wonder Milicent had tried to kick the writer out for looking like she was taking a quick trip to the grocery store - not dropping more than two paychecks worth of money at a high-end retailer. Besides, how would she look next to him tonight, their first official date as a couple, in his expertly tailored expensive clothing and her in her thrifted heels and costume jewelry?

Biting the inside of her cheek, she sighed. “You’re right. Just get whatever you think would best match what you’re wearing, please.”

***

Though Roxy nearly passed out once she saw the final total at the register, she mustered up enough strength to help Dak carry the heavy boxes to the trunk of his silver Camero. Even after he graciously paid for her shopping trip, he had insisted on driving her home while promising the Palm Woods was on the way to his next destination.

The entire ride to the hotel, he held her hand excitedly as he chattered about how eager he was for the dance and how he couldn’t wait for her to wear the things he had picked out.

Dropping her off at her building, he pressed a quick peck on her lips as she reminded him of the time and place of the dance before he sped off to destinations unknown.

It was a struggle to get all of the items into her apartment, hauling multiple boxes and trying to keep the dress from hitting the floor, but eventually, she was able to trudge up the stairs and unlock the door to 2-H before collapsing onto her couch. Of course, she made sure she texted Dak with the information about tonight just in case he hadn’t heard her a few minutes ago. He didn’t have the best track record when it came to arriving on time.

Just the thought of Dak should have sent her into a fit of butterflies and giggles, considering she had just accidentally found herself in a relationship with one of the hottest actors in Hollywood, but as she looked over the boxes toppled over her carpet, a pang of guilt wrought her stomach. She had been so happy to see him after their week of fighting, they hadn’t actually ended up fixing the problem that was threatening to almost tear them apart. The way her brain turned to mush in his presence upset her beyond words, thinking she was better than the cliche feelings she read about in her silly romance novels, and though she was thrilled by the thought of being in a relationship, she was still worried about how he’d react to seeing the band again tonight - considering the last time they had interacted, he had chosen to blow up on her, not them.

Should I warn him they’re going to be there? Or should I warn them he’s going to be there?

It was a feeling she hated, and a choice she certainly didn’t want to make, but she swiped away a few app notifications on her homescreen, noticing a few messages she hadn't realized she had received. The first were a set from her group chat with Camille and Jo.

C: logan just asked me to the dance in such a lame way

C: turned him down and told him it needed to be more memorable

C: and with no help from james!

J: Lucky! I can’t even get Kendall to ask me…

J: I really thought we had something good going :(

R: I'll shake him down for u

R: Andd camille you should've just said yes

R: u know it must’ve been hard for him to ask

C: why would it have been hard

C: im delightful and very approachable

J: lol

Thinking about sharing her good news, the writer began to type out her message before a message from Kendall popped up.

K: SOS need you in 2-J now!

That one message was more than enough to get the girl hopping up off her couch and through the door that connected their apartments, completely forgetting about what she wanted to tell her friends. Please be about plans to ask Jo to the dance…

When she reached the living room, Roxy found herself mixed up in a conversation between the Knight siblings and their mother. Mama Knight was clutching a romance novel to her cheek, pointing towards the handsome model on the cover before she threw it into her son’s hands who promptly passed it to his assistant like it was contaminated with some dangerous disease.

Before Roxy could get the gist of the conversation, Mrs. Knight headed towards her bedroom as the brother and sister looked at each other with a wry smile.

“How long do you think it’ll take you to track Mr. Love-Of-My-Mom’s-Life down?” Kendall asked, turning towards his assistant and pointing to the cover of the book she peered down on.

“From Here to the Wind…” The writer mused, flipping through the pages as a few words caught her eye. “Wow… Your mom likes some really steamy stuff.”

Covering Katie’s ears with his hands, Kendall audibly gagged.

Thumbing back towards the first few pages, Roxy quickly found the name of the publishing house before passing the book off to the young girl. “Call this number here, tell them Rocque Records is looking to book the model Fabio for a video shoot because, you,” She turned and pointed a set of finger guns at the frontman, “have more important things to attend to.”

“What could be more important than finding my mom a date for the dance?” He scoffed, clapping her on the shoulder as he and Katie left the apartment in search of the beautiful man. “Thanks for your help!”

Why even ask for it if you don’t need it? She silently asked herself as she set off in search of one of her other friends. Best bet being the pool, the girl texted Jo as she walked, mildly paying attention to the events occurring around her.

R: Have you thought about asking Kendall to the dance

J: Doesn’t that kind of dance have a specific name

R: I think so

R: But lucky you! you’re talking to someone on the dance committee

J: Maybe the two of us should go together

J: Forget about stupid boys for a little while

Just as she was typing a message back, something flew into the side of her head with a whack, nearly sending her tumbling into the pool. A flash of red hit the ground in front of her, and through a newly formed throbbing headache paired with blurring vision she picked it up and determined it to be a frisbee with “Will you go to the dance with me?” written on the back.

Examining her surroundings once her bearings were back, Roxy spotted Camille headed her direction from the other side of the pool carrying a small mountain of scripts, a handful of teenagers relaxing in the sweet summer sun, and James and Logan attempting to hide behind a plant fixture to her left. Based on how they were trying to duck under the shrubbery, it was safe to assume they were the ones who had tossed it.

“Sorry, boys,” She smiled, waving the disc in her hand before tossing it back in their direction. “I’m already spoken for.”

Neither one of them had even processed what their assistant had said before James was directing Logan to throw the frisbee at a rapidly-approaching Camille. The nervous boy’s shoulders tensed as he reared his hand back, shut his eyes, and tossed the flying disc once more.

Roxy didn’t even have time to warn her friend the object was coming before it smacked the actress in the arm, sending her scripts flying out of her hands and every which way over the pool deck. However, the scripts were the least of their worries as they watched in shock as Camille lost her balance and tumbled into the pool on her left.

Turning to face the boys, the writer sighed. “Just ask her out like a normal person. No schemes, no tricks, and no James helping you!”

Logan shook his head, “Come on! It’s not that easy.”

“It’ll be easier than explaining to Camille why you pushed her into the pool hours before one of the biggest nights of her life. Now go help her!”

***

J: Kendall did have something important to ask me…

J: To help make a theme banner and decorate the studio!

R: Don’t worry!

R: Sent a photo

R: I’m at RR doing that now

C: logan surprised me at the park w a bouquet of flowers

C: before yelling “go away” at me four times

R: It’s still going to be a great night, dates or not

Roxy knew better than to get her expensive new dress anywhere close to wet paint and bleeding markers, but the decorations she and Kelly had been putting up around the studio were nearly complete. On top of bringing food and drink, curating the perfect dance playlist, keeping up with Jo and Camille, and practicing the song the band was performing tonight on the guitar, the last few hours had been very stressful for the assistant.

It had been a good idea to bring her dance outfit and change in the costuming department of Rocque Records - it gave her some alone time to mentally prepare herself for what was coming. School dances had never been a source of fun for her, but she was hoping that tonight would change that. A lengthy hair and make-up session while digging through the boxes of costume jewelry in the accessories section of the floor brought her great joy while music from her iPod flooded her headphones.

While out shopping earlier, Dak had tacked on a large statement necklace to go along with the dress that Roxy couldn’t admit she didn’t care for. The blue and silver accents on the chunky accessory didn’t go along with the gold jewelry she was already planning on wearing, and she found a few other, simpler, pieces to compliment her look just as time trickled down closer to the beginning of the dance.

Miss Collins was the first to arrive in order to scope out the venue, which she was pleased to find was expertly decorated and was free of Magician Bitters as entertainment. Following was Big Time Rush, carrying some kind of costume in a large black bag. When Roxy questioned them, they didn’t give her many details, and they were soon free from her line of questioning as Jo, Camille, and Stephanie arrived soon after - still wildly unamused with Kendall and Logan.

Quickly, the assistant finished setting up small round tables in the lounge area of Rocque Records and set out the extra snacks and sodas Jo had picked up from the corner store as the rest of their class began trickling in.

Once Miss. Collins spotted everyone, she beamed, glancing over the party venue. “Okay, class! Welcome to the first ever Palm Woods School Move Your Butt Dance!”

Pressing play on the surround sound speaker system, Roxy let out a chuckle as dance music began to blast through the lounge and the class burst into cheers. Though she had been annoyed that the boys had blown off her theme plans earlier in the day, she figured they would appreciate what she had landed on - it had been their idea after all.

Just where are they anyway? Roxy thought, looking around the room unable to find the band. A survey of the room told her Jo, Stephanie, and Camille were wondering the same thing. All dateless at the beginning of the party.

Pushing the thought out of her head, she grabbed a bottle of Peppy Cola and pushed through the crowd to her girlfriends. With a wave of her hand, Roxy pulled them to the side of the long hallway, planning to ask the trio to dance with her as Brown Haired Jennifer sauntered down the aisle in a gorgeous royal blue dress, date in hand. A date who looked an awful lot like Carlos in a blond wig and sunglasses.

“Oh, Olaf, you’re so famous, and my date tonight!”

Exchanging worried glances, the girls nervously laughed as the pair pushed past them. In a terrible Swedish accent, Olaf responded, “Ja, Jennifer. Olaf will meet you on the dance floor.”

Without another word, Olaf let Jennifer go and sped off down the hall in search of something unknown.

Roxy took a sip of her soda, eyeing the hallway in hopes Dak would make his way over to her any minute. It was imperative she got to him before he spotted the band; she had been so busy setting up the party she had forgot to mention they would also be attending tonight

“You three look so beautiful!” Stephanie complimented, holding up her cell phone camera. The black and pink polka dot dress and matching pink trim looked gorgeous on her. “Let’s take a few pictures before it gets crazy in here.”

Click click click

Camera shutter ringing in her ears, the writer put on her best fake smile and did her best to pretend everything was going alright. She hoped Jo and Camille didn’t feel this way either, though she noticed her friend’s heads didn’t seem to be in it as they absentmindedly searched the crowd, no doubt searching for their crushes.

After a few more shutter sounds, the four opened Stephanie’s camera roll and anxiously fawned over the photos, pretending everything was alright, before picking out the best ones to send in their group chat.

“Yeah, Jennifer!” Someone called out from down the hall, a Jamaican accent echoing out this time and capturing the attention of most dance-goers. “I’m not just a soccer king, but I am your date, mon.”

Blonde Jennifer laughed, clutching the arm of a man in dreadlocks and a soccer uniform. The vibrant pink of her dress stood out against the greens and yellows of the uniform. Oddly enough, her date also resembled Carlos.

The assistant made a mental note to discuss the dangers and insensitivity of racial stereotypes with him later.

“What the…” Stephanie muttered, passing her plate over to Roxy before walking over and confronting the singer. “Carlos?”

“Yeah?” He answered eagerly, earning a smack on the arm and a disapproving look from Blonde Jennifer before busting out the Swedish accent again. “Oh, no, I’m Olaf!”

Smack

“No! I’m Ronaldolo.”

The horror director placed a hand on her hip, cocking her head to the side in disbelief. As she was about to say something a loud “Ahem!” came from down the hall.

There stood Curly Hair Jennifer, a maroon dress hugging her sides as her arms crossed. Strutting down the hall towards them, her brows were furrowed in anger causing the soccer king to run off and emerge a few seconds later in the same outfit he had entered in earlier.

“I mean, Marcello.” Carlos corrected, waving his hand to his poor Italian accent.

By now, the entire lounge was watching their exchange; Brown Haired Jennifer ran a hand through her locks.

“That’s Olaf.” She told her friend with the bouncing curls. “You’re dating Marcello.”

A sly smirk appeared on the actress’ face, toying with the red bow under her bust. “I’m dumping Marcello. He’s stupid.”

Out of all the things tonight, this was what Carlos ended up taking offense to. “Marcello’s not stupid-”

“Actually, Olaf dumped you for me.” Blonde Jennifer stated, linking her arm tighter around Carlos’.

“He’s mine!”

A small fight broke out between the three Jennifers as they all tried to tug the boy closer to them. Distracted by the drama, the dancing of the Palm Woods students had all but stopped, allowing Roxy to make her way to Stephanie, friends in tow.

“Now’s your chance!” Roxy whispered to her friend, giving her a slight nudge in the right direction.

Camille nodded, “Saving him is so romantic…”

“At least one of us might get to dance tonight,” Jo rolled her eyes as the fighting continued.

Stephanie took a few deep breaths, balling her fists into the hem of her skirt as she watched the exchange. Then, she reached out in front of her and snatched the ugly wig off the boy’s head, stopping the skirmish all together.

“Carlos?” She sighed, gingerly smiling at the boy in front of her. “Do you want to dance?”

Taking the sunglasses of his costume off, Carlos glanced between the three Jennifers before turning back to face to Stephanie.

“Carlos… would love to dance.” He said smoothly, taking her hand and moving towards the open floor before pausing and turning back to the three baffled girls. “And, ladies… Marcello und Olaf and Ronaldaldo have left the building. And how hot is Stephanie?! Whoo!”

Watching her friend blush sent waves of excitement through Roxy, she’d be sure to get a few pictures of them dancing to share with the director later. The pair looked so cute together, arm in arm, as they made their way to the refreshment table towards the back of the room.

Though the writer was elated, when she turned to her friends, it was clear they did not share the same sentiment.

Jo took a long sip of her Mist Twist. “Well, Stephanie got a date to the dance and I can’t believe Kendall didn’t ask me.”

Her blonde waves bounced as she took a few steps closer to the back of the room, projected lights highlighting her beautiful black floral dress.

Picking at a few salted crackers on her plate, Camille moved to join Jo, “Logan tried asking me, again, but he’s really terrible at it. I told him I didn’t need a knight in shining armor or anything, just something simple-”

Trumpet fanfare from the hallway caused heads to turn, everyone going wide-eyed at the sight of Logan - dressed in full knight regalia - trotting down the long hallway on a costumed horse.

“So that’s where they’ve been…” Roxy trailed off, poking Jo in the arm to let her know Kendall was probably with his friend as they made their way closer.

She, too, was stunned, “Is that Logan… on a horse?”

A few more clip-clops and one neigh later, Logan appeared in front of Camille, who was having trouble continuing the smile that spread across her face.

“Hello, Milady.” The knight drawled, bowing his head towards the actress. “Would you like to accompany me to the dance?”

The ravenette rocked on her heels, lips pressed together as the corners turned upwards.

“Say yes!” Two voices, Kendall and James, called from under the singer.

Roxy took the plate out of her friend’s hand, stacking it on the other one she was holding for Stephanie as Camille bounced up and down, “Heck yeah, I will!”

A look of relief washed over Logan as he took his date’s hand and pulled her up onto the back of the horse. Gently, she wrapped her arms around him as he dug his heels into the horse’s backside. “Onward, trusty steed!”

Someone screamed at the contact, but the horse still managed to get to the back of the room as the student body burst into applause. All, except Jo, who was gripping her cup so tightly the assistant feared it might break. Roxy wanted to crush her in a hug also but wanted to make sure she snapped plenty of images of Logan and Camille riding off together to remember the night by.

A few moments later, Mr. X appeared from the dance hall of Studio A, announcing the dance floor was open. Even louder music pumped through the speakers as students hurriedly made their way into the new space, effectively clearing out the lounge except for the two girls.

Glancing back towards the dance hall, Roxy noticed Kendall, dressed as the bottom half of a horse, making his way over to the pair. Taking her friend’s hand and gently squeezing it, the assistant took that as her cue to head over to the refreshment table so the two could speak in private. Or what would be private, if the frontman wasn’t having to speak so loud over the music.

“Hey,” He called out to Jo as the writer took her time plating some cheese and crackers. “What are you doing out here?”

“Hey?” Jo questioned. “You can’t just waltz in here, dressed all half-horsey, and say, ‘Let’s dance.’ I’ve been waiting all day for you to ask me to be your date, and you never did!”

Roxy silently winced against her cup as Kendall scoffed. “Seriously? I just thought we were kind of, you know, together.

The whole tone of the conversation shifted.

“Really?” Jo gasped, eyes flashing over to her friend across the room. “You… thought we were together? Like together, together.”

Nodding, Kendall eased into a grin. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

Jo didn’t hesitate, “It’s great!... Let’s go dance.”

Taking Jo’s hand, her boyfriend pressed a light kiss to the back of it. Roxy didn’t mean to look as though she were staring at their personal moment, but she thought she saw some movement in the hallway behind them.

“Um, Kendall.” The tone of her voice came out more alarmed than she had wanted as she watched a Dak Zevon-shaped figure make its way down the hall. “We’ve got to go perform. Come on!”

Not thinking twice, she moved as fast as her heels could carry her, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the dance hall as he quickly shed the bottom half of his costume. She wanted to race out of the building if her friends would let her, yet at the same time, she wanted to slow down and adequately process why she was actively running away from the person she had been waiting to see all night.

Having a boyfriend shouldn’t be this stressful.

Thankfully, the other boys were already setting up the equipment necessary for the performance of “Stuck” for their class. Roxy didn’t waste any time admiring the beautifully decorated stage Gustavo and Kelly had set up as she ran into the recording booth to grab her acoustic guitar and a small stool to sit on while the boys performed. Their classmates had eagerly gathered around the stage, Jo, Camille, and Stephanie had even managed to wedge their way right up front, gingerly leaning on the elevated floor their friends would soon be occupying.

Plugging in her guitar, Roxy waited for the boys to give her a thumbs up before counting off and silently prayed the puffy sleeves of her dress wouldn’t affect her ability to play, “1… 2… 1, 2, 3, 4.”

“There are so many things that I never ever get to say…”

Writing songs had its perks, like it was virtually impossible for Roxy to mess up her chords as she nervously strummed along to the beat since she had already spent hours trying to find the perfect melody. Eyeing the crowd through the bright lights shining down on the band was tough, but she was able to spot Kelly and Gustavo back towards the door, Katie pushing her way towards Mrs. Knight in the back, and finally, Dak leaning against the wall in the corner of the room. If he caught her looking, he didn’t acknowledge it, just simply bobbing his head along to the beat of the song. Picking up on the tempo, the Palm Woods School students began clapping their hands and moving to the rhythm, internalizing the lyrics.

Big Time Rush sounded great, not even missing a beat as they broke into their dance routine once the chorus hit. Their bosses slowly nodded their heads, approving of the performance so far, as the choreographer, Mr. X, stood next to them copying the routine he had expertly crafted.

During the writing process, Roxy had heard “Stuck” no less than one hundred times, but something about it now felt different as the sound of her guitar reverberated against her chest. The song was raw, vulnerable, and more open about her feelings for another person than she had ever admitted in her life, but now as the words came out of her friends’ mouths they sounded wrong.

This song was about her struggles communicating her feelings towards Dak, a factor that had caused strain on their relationship multiple times. First, his wild accusations that Logan was into her on their first date, then standing her up at the house party, and lashing out at her for her close friendship with her band… Sure, he had shown her kindness as well throughout the two months they’d known each other, but it hurt her beyond words that he had trouble trusting her. Even more so, she was disappointed in herself for not recognizing this earlier and allowing herself to become distracted by frivolous and expensive apology gifts.

A career at Rocque Records meant everything to her; her band meant everything to her. Both of those things were far too important to lose.

“Roxy,” James called out, though he had to speak almost directly in her ear to be heard over the music, holding his microphone out to the side so no one could hear. “Come dance with us.”

Now, her thoughts were thoroughly interrupted with a volt shooting down her spine as the boy pulled her out of her chair.

It was one thing that she couldn’t dance in the first place, but now she stood with her guitar strapped around her shoulder making movement even more difficult. That paired with the fact everyone had noticed James’ actions, including Dak in the back of the room as he noticeably raised his brows as she moved to stand by her friends.

At least the song was coming to a close, so she wouldn’t mess up the band’s routine as she swayed back and forth to the beat, copying the long-haired boy’s footwork towards the middle of the stage. Her favorite part of Mr. X’s choreography was the end, where the four pointed both fingers high up in the air, then down towards the audience, so as the song came to an end, she matched their movements before she made her way to the other side of the stage to set her guitar down.

Once the music stopped, the crowd burst into a chorus of cheering and Roxy felt herself get swept up in a large group hug with the proud, albeit sweaty, band members. They had finally nailed their first professional performance in front of a live audience. The feeling was exhilarating, causing her heart to swell as her chest heaved in an attempt to suppress the nerves she had during the performance. A sensation she didn’t even have time to process as she worried about how her boyfriend would perceive the song.

Wait a minute, she looked over Logan’s shoulder as he held her and noticed Dak wasn’t in the same spot he had been standing in for the performance and from a quick scan over the crowd, it didn’t look like he had joined the mass of people. From the other times he had come to visit her, she had gathered that he wasn’t a large-crowd kind of guy, but her gut twisted at the thought of him walking out during the performance. Maybe he hadn’t taken to the song like she thought he would.

Eventually, the guys let her go and the playlist of dance music that had been on before their performance began to blast out of the speakers once more. The lights illuminating the stage dimmed, and Roxy took that as her cue to put her guitar away and leave the stage in search of Dak.

Since he had only visited Rocque Records a few times to record vocals for Varsity Vampire 2: Game On, there were likely a few places he could be: the lounge or Studio B.

Heels clicking on the floor outside the dance hall, she didn’t spot him anywhere near the lounge and once she had gotten close to Studio B, she remembered her boss had locked it in order to keep any daring teens from getting in and messing with his expensive equipment. She wasn’t really in the mood for a game of hide and seek, making her way back to the dance hall, and brought out her phone to call him as a hand caught her wrist and tugged her into Gustavo’s office.

Her first instinct was to call out for her band, seeing as this was the kind of shenanigan they’d usually pull to get her attention, but as she slowly adjusted to her new surroundings, she realized the small, quiet room was the perfect hiding spot for her anti-social partner.

And there he stood in front of her, hand covering his mouth as he looked her up and down, admiring the way she looked in the outfit he had helped put together. It was a bit awkward, so she focused on the live clip of E! News that was playing on her boss’ computer. He must’ve forgotten to turn it off before he went out to watch the band’s performance.

“God, Roxy,” Dak breathed, reaching out to cup her cheek. “You look beautiful.”

Shuffling her feet, she glanced down at the floor, “Thanks… You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He had traded his casual look from the store earlier for a nice pair of black slacks paired with a blue collared shirt. A blue she soon realized was the same color as the jewelry she had omitted to wear tonight.

Meeting her compliment with a slow, sweet kiss, Roxy found herself falling into his embrace as the music from the other room, though muffled, flooded through the walls. Of course, she wanted to bring him out into the dance hall, and introduce him to Camille, Stephanie, and Jo, but once he slowly started swaying to the music she had quickly forgotten about everyone else in the building.

Mush, She thought. He turns me to mush.

“I really liked your song,” He started, one hand brushing down the length of her hair she had straightened for the party. “Was that one you or Gustavo wrote?”

Shifting her hands around the back of his neck, she pulled away from his shoulder to peer into his clear blue eyes. “I wrote it,” she said, before quickly adding, “About you.”

This fact seemed to surprise him and she watched his eyes widen as his grip around her waist tightened.

Ignoring the slight increase in her heartbeat, she spoke again. “Speaking of Gustavo, though, we should probably get out of here before he catches us. Besides, I want to introduce you to my best friends.”

“Five more minutes,” He murmured with a wry smile, bending down to kiss her again. “Like that line in your song.”

“That it’s worth every minute that it takes, just wait and see…” She recited, pulling away from him to do a little spin while holding his hand. Carefully, he repositioned her so she was facing toward the door and she noticed that he was scanning the room behind them, causing her to pull away a bit, “Is everything okay?”

Blinking a few times, he looked back up at her and sighed. “You're not wearing the necklace I bought you. I thought you’d look pretty in it.”

Roxy felt her heart drop into her stomach.

“Oh, I-”

Her apology was interrupted as the door to the office burst open, revealing a frazzled James slamming the door and locking it behind him, slowly sinking down into a sitting position with his head in his hands. He was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon, and Roxy heard a large amount of heeled feet dash by the office.

The boy hadn’t even realized the couple were in the room until he ran a hand through his hair, sweeping it out of his eyes, noticing them standing before him.

“Fucking hell,” Dak swore under his breath as James waved his hands in front of him in defense.

“Just give me a minute and I’ll be out of here,” the singer begged, a hint of urgency in his tone. “Pretend I’m not even here and go back to… whatever it was you were doing.”

His presence didn’t bother Roxy, but she felt Dak shift beside her and hold her a bit closer. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

James rolled his eyes, making it obvious he was ignoring Dak’s statement, before looking towards his assistant. “Before I forget, great job on stage tonight. Thanks for writing us such a great song.”

Roxy opened her mouth to respond, but she was quickly cut off by her date.

“She didn’t write it for you.”

“Dak, stop,” Roxy followed, looking over to James and attempting to apologize with her eyes. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of their previous, disastrous date. “Let’s go dance with everyone else, please.”

“Sure, babe,” His hold on her waist tightened, again, hurting her a bit this time. “After you tell him you didn’t write the song for him.”

“Come on, that's not what he said. Please, can we go?” She tugged on his collar trying to lead him towards the door, but her boyfriend remained rooted in place. “It’ll be more fun dancing out there.”

Taking in her words, Dak scoffed and pulled his hands off her body. When she normally would’ve protested his actions, this time, it felt like a relief. “Seriously? It’s not that big of a deal. Just say it.”

James stood up, confusion crossing his face as he decided if this was a conversation he should be a part of or not. As Roxy faltered, his attention flipped to Gustavo’s computer.

“Fine.” She huffed, crossing her arms as a bout of anger threatened to spill over. “I wrote the song for you, not for Big Time Rush. Happy?”

Dak’s entire demeanor changed once he realized what James was paying attention to and quickly tried to usher his date out of the room. “Yes, thanks, baby. Let’s go.”

There was only one flaw in his plan, James was blocking the door to the hall and wasn’t budging even as the two reached him.

“Roxy-” The band member started, looking towards the back of the room before Dak swiftly cut him off.

“Move.”

Glancing between the boys, Roxy felt her chest tighten at the thought of an altercation between the two. She cared about the both of them so much, it hurt her to see them fighting. “James, please. We just want to dance.”

The wannabe ignored the both of them, attention still fixated on the back of the room.

It wasn’t until Dak stepped in front of her and attempted to shove James out of the way, Roxy was able to turn and see what was bothering him so much.

On the computer screen, a clip from a Varsity Vampire press panel was playing, showing Dak and his costar Victoria Hodgkiss side by side as they answered questions about the upcoming film. He was wearing the same outfit now as he was in the conference, signaling the reason for his late arrival. Before Dak realized she was watching the clip, he told James to move one more time.

“Dude,” He scoffed, looking down on the movie star. “It’s over.”

Roxy continued to watch, so confused as to why James was so enamored with it, as the video showed Dak leaning over and placing his arm around Victoria as they exited the studio, before cupping her cheek and giving her a slow, sweet kiss. Or it would’ve been a sweet kiss if the watchful eyes of E! News hadn’t caught the pair with one of their hidden cameras. The room was silent as the clip played a few more times, with the rolling headline “LOVE IS IN THE AIR: DAK AND VICTORIA’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP EXPOSED.”

Staring as it played, Roxy felt her heart slowly pull itself apart, and all she could do was stand there and watch as it rolled. Her boyfriend, caught on tape kissing his co-star, when all this time he had been the one accusing her of having too close of a relationship with her band. No wonder he had been so possessive of her, he was too busy deflecting his own actions.

At some point, Dak had begun saying something to her, but she was too far gone to register his words, stumbling towards Gustavo’s desk to turn the stupid thing off as it played more and more clips over the course of the pair’s relationship. A picture of them at a club three months ago, one of them sharing an ice cream cone in Griffith Park - Dak in the same outfit he had worn on their first date - and of course the image from today once more. Reaching for the mouse, she noticed how badly her hands were shaking, so much so she couldn’t even correctly click the button to close out of the webpage.

All her anxiety, all her sadness, all her excuses for her poor behavior hadn’t been for nothing. He’d been intentionally causing her pain since the day they met and she had been stupid enough to ignore her all her instincts, all the signs he had given her, and that utterly broke her.

The clip played a few more times until finally, James moved from his spot in front of the door and slid in behind the desk beside her, and turned it off.

Dak was still speaking, standing across the desk from her but all of his words seemed to blend together into a garbled amalgamation she couldn’t understand as her attention turned from the computer to him. With each sound he made, his hands flew wildly in the air, pointing from the computer screen, to her, to James, then clenching fingers so hard his knuckles turned white.

Roxy tried to listen, but the pain exploding in her chest was growing too large to bear.

At some point, James started talking back, arguing with the movie star about something, anything, that had happened during the course of the two months she had been involved with him.

Thoughts swirled through her brain, to cry, to scream, to run out of the room and all the way back to the Palm Woods, all culminating into one clear thought she was finally able to understand:

I need my songbook.

Then, she snapped back into reality to find Dak lunging across the table at James. Fortunately, her words caught the movie star off guard, stopping him inches away from grabbing the singer’s collar.

“Dak, consider your contract with Rocque Records terminated. We’ve decided to go in a different direction at this time… Recording movie soundtracks is a bit below us.”

He flinched, a look of confusion crossing his features, open palm growing suspiciously closer to the wannabe’s face. “Roxy, E! just twisted some old footage-”

“Someone will drop off the demos we already have recorded to Colossal Studios.”

“You’ve got to believe me, she means nothing to me.”

The last thing she expected herself to do was laugh, but a few waves rolled out of her at his comment. “Clearly, neither of us mean anything to you. Do you want me to send the dress and things back to you or…?”

“Babe, chill, let’s talk this out- I can get us a nice reservation at Chez Fancee-”

“We’re done, Dak. Get out of here before I call security and make you.”

Once the words left her lips, the air in the room changed.

“Seriously, Roxy? Come on. Can’t you see that this band is tearing us apart?”

The assistant scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “The only thing this band has done is show me what a terrible person you are. I’ve constantly made excuses for your poor behavior because I thought you were a nice, genuine guy. Standing me up, to go on dates with another girl no less, picking fights with my friends and-” Her eyes widened as a realization dawned on her, “And you never wanted to be seen with me in front of my friends in case word got back to Victoria.”

“God, woman, will you just listen to me? What is it you want to keep your stupid mouth shut? Money, exposure? Clearly, not jewelry since you didn’t wear what I already bought - because this band can’t give it to you-”

“What I want,” She paused, allowing time for her words to fully sink in. “Is for you to get the hell out of here so I can head to the studio and write one of the best break-up songs anyone’s ever heard.”

“I-I’ll sue you. And this whole company! Just watch, your career will be finished!”

The girl didn’t have any time before the door was bust down for the second time that night, now revealing Kendall, Carlos, and Logan, fingers curled into tight fists. When James had called them, she hadn’t noticed, but she was incredibly thankful for his actions, giving him a slight nod as he moved to join his bandmates by the door. It was better knowing she didn’t have to face him alone.

There was nothing else for her ex-boyfriend to do but let out a growl of frustration before heading toward the doorway.

“I heard Minnesota girls were supposed to be easy… A girl like you isn’t worth all the fuss.” Now that his true colors had been exposed, he turned to the row of boys by the door, sneering in their direction. “Enjoy my sloppy seconds.”

Milliseconds passed before a crack! resounded through the room, Dak letting out a cry of pain, doubling over as his hands flew to his face. As he inched closer to the door, muffling his groans, she saw Logan’s eyes narrowed in pain, clutching his right knuckles in his left palm.

“You really need to get the fuck out of here, man. James, Kendall, and Carlos won’t be as kind as I am.”

Another groan from the pop star, “What the hell?”, and the boys moved away from the door, forming a makeshift barrier between their assistant and her ex.

“Hey, Dak?” Roxy called out, as he finally stepped over the door frame. When he managed to meet her gaze over Carlos’ shoulder, she smiled at the dark colored bruise already forming around the outside of his right eye, giving him a small wave. “You’re not worth the fuss either.”

***

It took 15 minutes for Roxy to talk her friends down.

Big Time Rush spoke in graphic detail about all the ways they could destroy the movie star, seemingly forgetting all about the wonderful dates they had waiting for them in the room across the hall. After stealing an ice pack from the kitchen fridge and handing it to Logan, she assured them that she would be fine, she just needed a bit of time before she headed back out to join their class on the dance floor.

She was able to shake Kendall, Logan, and Carlos after giving each a bone-crushing hug and thanking them for being there for her when she needed it, apologizing for Dak’s awful behavior towards them. Then, when they still wouldn’t leave, she threatened to call Jo, Camille, and Stephanie to have them personally collect their companions.

Now, after stealing the keys from their boss’ desk, Roxy and James sat silently together in Studio B. She had tried to shake him too, but he shared with her the reason he had been running around Rocque Records in the first place - in trying to get Logan to ask Camille to the dance he had accidentally ended up asking 7 different girls who were currently hunting him down. Technically, Roxy had been one of them since she had been hit with his frisbee.

One thing that had kept her going since the moment she witnessed the news expose on Dak was the pure adrenaline that was pumping through her body. Now, even 20 minutes after her break up, all she wanted to do was get her song started and get back out on the dancefloor with her friends. The only problem was getting the starting lyrics established. Her situation was a bit too specific - how many other girls ended things with their partners after finding out they were the other woman on national television - and she was having trouble formulating any thoughts that might lead to an enjoyable, catchy pop song.

After jotting a few things down on a blank page in her notebook so she could remember the situation with a bit of clarity, she glanced over at James who was sitting a few feet away from her, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt. He hadn’t said anything beyond a simple “sorry” that her relationship with Dak had ended since he had found them in Gustavo’s office earlier. Maybe it was because he knew she was writing or maybe he just didn’t have anything to say, but she was appreciative he wasn’t trying to fill the comfortable silence.

“Hey,” She called, catching his attention as he turned to look up at her. “What’s the worst way you’ve broken up with someone?”

James cocked his head, confused as to why she would want to know such a thing. “Do you really want to talk about sad stuff right now?”

“It’s for lyric inspiration. I can’t think of anything that rhymes with cheater, currently.” Roxy assured him. As long as her heart kept pounding adrenaline throughout her body, she would be good to keep writing.

“Heater, beater, eater, liter-” His list was interrupted as his assistant threw her guitar pick at him. “Okay, okay!”

Pen and paper ready, she stared at him expectantly as he began to share his story.

“Freshman year I was seeing this guy, Cliff, and we had a good thing going for a while but, uh, my mom didn’t like him. After I brought him over for lunch one day, she made me call him later and break things off.” He sighed, looking down at his lap. “It was really bad; I felt so terrible. He deserved a better boyfriend than me.”

After a tale like that, Roxy knew she should have offered some words of comfort but it was just the perfect amount of inspiration she needed to kick-start her song.

As the words came to her, she spoke them aloud while writing them down. Though this normally bothered her, James had just shared something raw and emotional, the best thing she could do was return the favor.

“Get a call on a random afternoon, I pick it up and I see that it’s you, like my heart you were breaking the news, you said ‘it’s over, it’s over, it’s over-’”

Once the verse left her mouth, another bout of inspiration hit which was quickly scribbled out.

Headin’ out, cuz I’m out of my mind

All my friends are gonna see me tonight,

Stayin’ here ‘til the sun starts to rise-

“Ugh!” Roxy vocalized, slapping the open book in her hand and allowing the sound to echo around the room. Curious, James peered over at her, slightly started at her outburst as she continued. “I don’t know what’s worse: The fact I can’t finish this verse, my first official relationship lasted a little over 6 hours, or that I’m letting Dak ruin my stupid night. I should be out there getting down on the dance floor, having fun with all our friends.”

Her friend nodded once, “Sure, but don’t you think you have some… complicated feelings you need to work out first? I’ve never seen someone so calm after a break-up and, honestly, it’s kind of freaking me out.”

At his words, a few memories flashed through her mind; ones involving her fall out with Mag. That, besides breaking her heart, had hurt far worse than whatever she was feeling currently.

You’ll get over it another night. She told herself.

“I’ve got to take my own advice, you know, dance hard, laugh more, all that good stuff. Wait- That is good stuff!”

Quickly scribbling her words onto a new section of the page for later, she read over the progress she had already made. Two verses and some loose lines were pretty good for one sitting; worrying about the melody would come later. For now, all she could think about was getting back to the party, however ill-advised it might be.

“I just need to have a fun time tonight and forget any of this ever happened.” Roxy stood up, making her way to stand in front of James who cocked his head in confusion. Gently, she extended her hand out to him. “James, take me to the dance. Please.”

Eyes widening, he bit the inside of his cheek. “Roxy, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Fine…” She huffed, turning her back to him and rocking on her heels a few times, suppressing a laugh as the next words flew out of her mouth. “I guess I could ask Guitar Dude. He’s way cuter than you, you know?”

It took all of two seconds for James to stand up and grab her hand, before pulling her out into the hallway towards Studio A.

“God, what am I going to do with you?” He muttered, shaking his head as she pulled open the door to the party. Spotting an open section towards the back of the room, he made a beeline.

“That’s an easy one!” She called over the loud music, bringing his hand to her waist. Effortlessly, he pulled her into his embrace as she giggled, “Dance!”

***

To say James had been a perfect gentleman the entire night, besides asking 7 different girls to the same dance, would be an understatement. However, as Roxy said goodbye to him and closed her apartment door, she realized he had been right about one thing; she had some complicated feelings to work out. A fact that became all too apparent as the writer flipped the lights on to her empty, silent apartment.

She had done everything in her power to make the night last as long as she possibly could and had done a pretty good job of it considering Gustavo and Kelly had to kick the two teens out of Rocque Records around 2 am. Neither had realized they were the only ones still partying the hours away.

Now that there were no distractions, no other people, and no need to wear her stupid uncomfortable shoes anymore, she was finally confronted with what she had been trying to avoid all night - the little voice in the back of her head, nagging her since things ended, that she was the reason her relationship with Dak had come to a grinding halt.

I was too boring, I never listened to him, I didn’t give him enough attention, I chose not to wear his necklace, I spent too much time with the band-

Buzz buzz

A text message from James lit up her screen.

J: I had a good time tonight

R: Me too :) Thanks for being there for me

J: We should do it again sometime

J: btw you looked gorgeous

J: Sorry I didn’t tell you in person

An unwelcome pit formed in her stomach as she read over his second message a few times.

Walking into her bedroom, she made her way to the bathroom before accidentally catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

The dress Dak had bought her hugged her body, matching beautifully with the heels he had carefully selected. It was such a nice, generous gift. A gift she didn’t deserve and, yet, she had repaid the actor only by breaking up with him.

Flashes from the E! News segments rolled around in her mind as she continued to stare - catching a few tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. If she was alone for much longer, she would only waste her time crying over a boy who had done nothing but belittle and hurt her.

Finally breaking her stare to pick up her phone, she clicked through her speed dial, trying to remember what her girlfriends had texted her about their after-dance plans.

Logan, Camille, Stephanie, and Carlos mentioned heading to Inside Out Burger for milkshakes but Jo and Kendall had to decline because she had a big audition she needed to run lines for in the morning.

Bingo.

Pressing the fourth button, Roxy waited for the call to connect before she heard someone’s groggy voice at the end of the line.

“Rox, it’s 2:30 in the morning, what’s wrong?”

Taking a shaky breath, she replied, “Hi, Kendall, I just got home and I- I don’t want to be alone right now.”

The sound of bedsheets being rolled around crinkled over the speaker. “Want me to come over?”

“No, stay in bed, it’s okay. Just, talk to me, please. Tell me about the stuff I missed tonight.” “Okay-” He yawned. “So, Fabio actually showed up…”

#thats all she wrote fic #big time rush #btr #james diamond #james maslow #kendall knight #kendall schmidt #logan mitchell #logan henderson #carlos garcia #carlos penavega

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ardn516danamcgill · 5 months ago

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Cornwall Park History Time Line

Maungakiekie is split into two separate parks: Maungakiekie One Tree Hill Domain is jointly governed by Ngā Mana Whenua o Tāmaki Makaurau and Auckland Council as the Tūpuna Maunga Authority, while Cornwall Park is managed by the Cornwall Park Trust Board.

67,000 years ago Maungakiekie is formed in a volcanic eruption, creating the iconic scoria cone we see today. Walking around the park you will see scoria and basalt rock formed during this eruption.

1844 - Irish settler Thomas Henry purchases 400 hectares of Maungakiekie land from Māori and renames this Mt Prospect Estate.

1847 - The Crown confiscates part of Maungakiekie from Thomas Henry, which is then quarried for basalt and scoria rock.

1853 - Sir John and William Brown purchase Mt Prospect Estate, rename it One Tree Hill Estate and lease it out to farmers.

1870 - 1880 - Sir John establishes the Olive Grove after an unsuccessful attempt to cultivate a winery (11,000 grape vines were initially planted). After removing the vines, 5,000 olive trees were planted, some of which are still growing in the park today.

1871 - The Crown-owned land at the summit of Maungakiekie One Tree Hill is declared a public reserve.

1875 - Sir John plants a young tōtara in the middle of a grove on top of the maunga with five Monterey pine trees around it to act as a windbreak. Unfortunately, it did not survive the harsh conditions. Only one pine remained as the iconic “One Tree” until 2000.

1881 - Sir John decides he is going to give his One Tree Hill Estate to Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, later gifting it to the whole of Aotearoa New Zealand.

1901 - The One Tree Hill Estate is renamed Cornwall Park after the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall and York in honour of their visit to Aotearoa New Zealand in 1901. It was officially gifted to the people of Aotearoa New Zealand in 1901, but it will take two more years before the park is open to the public.

American landscape architect Austin Strong works closely with Sir John to create a park plan and landscape design to be enjoyed by all New Zealanders. The design of the sweeping tree-lined drives leading through the park was planned from the very beginning, providing access and amenities whilst highlighting the natural beauty of the slopes of Maungakiekie.

1903 - On August 26th, Huia Lodge and Cornwall Park are open to the public. Huia Lodge is built in the Queen Anne Revival style to house the park caretaker and serve as a stop-off point for visitors making their way to the tihi (summit) of Maungakiekie. The front room was designed as a tea parlour for visitors, with refreshments served on sunny days.

1906 - On May 24th, the people of Tāmaki Maukaurau Auckland pay by public subscription for a statue and water fountain of Sir John Logan Campbell to be placed in the middle of Campbell Crescent.

1907 - Sir John gifts an additional 41.6 hectares of adjacent land to the park.

1908 - A further 57.6 hectares are added to the parkland and the kiosk (now the Cornwall Park Bistro) is constructed.

1912 - On June 22nd, Sir John passes away aged 94. A small section of land is transferred to the park trustees atop Maungakiekie for his burial site.

1926 - The Cornwall Park Trust Board employs Farm Managers to form the Cornwall Park farm on areas previously leased to independent farmers.

1940 - Sir John bequeaths the obelisk at the Maungakiekie summit in honour of the Māori people. It is completed in 1940, but due to World War II, it was decided that the opening ceremony would be postponed according to Tikanga Māori which states it is inappropriate to unveil a monument during a time of bloodshed. The ceremony eventually took place on April 24th 1948 and was unveiled by the Māori King, Koroki.

1942 - 1944 - The US Army 39th General Hospital is built within the park for American soldiers.

1956 - The Memorial Steps are constructed as a memorial to Sir John.

1986 - 1988 - After the hospital was demolished, the land was returned to Cornwall Park and restored and developed for use by the public. Trees are planted, and the Band Rotunda is built.

1990 - Simmental cattle are introduced into the park.

2000 - On October 26th, the lone pine on Maungakiekie One Tree Hill is removed after being attacked several times over the century, as it became a health and safety risk to allow it to remain.

2016 - Three tōtara and six pōhutukawa saplings are planted at the summit of Maungakiekie to begin the process of growing the hills next "One Tree."

Cornwall Park. "Cornwall Park Timeline." Cornwall Park. Accessed October 3, 2024. https://cornwallpark.co.nz/history/cornwall-park-timeline

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mitchbeck · 6 months ago

Link

#BonSecoursWellnessArena #ECHL #GreenvilleSwampRabbits #LosAngelesKings #OntarioReign

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planetpiastri · 1 year ago

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pairing: logan sargeant x fem!reader [no faceclaim, reader is faceless] summary: when alex's childhood friend makes an appearance on his instagram, logan is instantly smitten, but the universe insists on keeping them only as a missed connection, and alex isn't helping matters. notes: ok this was supposed to be the ending but turns out i crave angst so there'll be one more part coming soon hehe [series masterlist]

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, and others

ynusername if anyone wants to dig up my problematic tweets from 2011 and use my digital footprint to ruin my career, be my guest 🫠

view all 1,078 comments

logansargeant I'm not sure if your tweets about One Direction are gonna be bad enough to get you fired

ynusername i told you that in CONFIDENCE!

lilymhe one more week xx

alex_albon bring mr. meowgi to silverstone please

ynusername mr. meowgi has an appointment at the kitty spa the week of silverstone sorryyy 🩷

username1 yn rewatching the gp that she physically attended.. she's one of us fr

liked by williamsracing, oscarpiastri, and 68,432 others

logansargeant Tricky quali, but proud of the pace we have. All to play for tomorrow 👊

view all 2,998 comments

ynusername "aLL To pLaY FoR tOmoRrOw" boooooo where's the PERSONALITY

logansargeant You are so mean to me oh my god blame my PR officer ynusername was the blue steel in the first pic his idea, too? logansargeant ...maybe

username2 RRRAHHH WHAT THE FUCK IS A Q1?? 🦅🇺🇸

alex_albon chin up king, don't let the haters get you down

logansargeant The hater in question is your best friend alex_albon and i've never been more proud of her 🫶🏼 ynusername HAH

username3 what is this comment section 😭😭

ynusername

liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, and others

ynusername appreciation post for the one who's been there for me through it all 💙 20 years and still going strong 💙 ily alex let's bring it home in silverstone this weekend

view all 2,327 comments

username4 holy shit sometimes i forget how long alex and yn have been friends 😭

georgerussell63 Between this and the instagram story... why do I keep catching strays?

ynusername strays of love, georgie x

lilymhe TOO CUTE!!

alex_albon feeling very exposed but that's ok 🫶🏼 looking forward to the next 20 years of dealing with you

ynusername if anyone is doing the dealing, it's me alex_albon we deal in equal measure ynusername ok fair

username5 AWWW BABY ALEX!!!

logansargeant What a nerd

alex_albon outqualify me before you call me a nerd ynusername alex don't make me delete this post be nice to him alex_albon uuggghhhh logansargeant No no keep being mean to me it's the only way I get her in my corner

ynusername

liked by williamsracing, lilymhe, and others

ynusername alex and lily crashed the picnic and then we got rained out but before that it was a really great day

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lilymhe wasn't my idea 🤷🏻‍♀️

ynusername i know this and i love you

alex_albon sorry for the rain but not the other part

ynusername ur obsessed with me get a job alex_albon you first ynusername EXCUSE YOU

username6 pardon me miss but who is 'we'

username7 it's gotta be logan, no? username8 i wanna say yes but he didn't even like the post so idk 😬

georgerussell63 No invite once again ☹️

williamsracing

liked by ynusername, alex_albon, and 110,276 others

williamsracing Hey Silverstone 👋 We're home 💙

view all 3,897 comments

username9 manifesting double points today 🙏🙏🙏

ynusername williams admin can we kiss

williamsracing 🤭🤭 alex_albon stop seducing my coworkers logansargeant I object to that, I like to think I was the one doing the seducing alex_albon nobody was talking to you white boy username10 logan and yn confirmed??? alex_albon grow up ynusername wow so much hate has spiraled from my comment of love... williamsracing They'll never understand what we have 🫶🏻

tagging: @sonder-paradise hey girl

[series masterlist]

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant au #f1 #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 x reader #instagram au #f1 imagine #social media au #alex albon #saturn writes

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kokorowoutsu · 2 years ago

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-- Summer Vacation ‘23: Almia Exploration (4)

The various exploration of Pueltown continued the following day, heading out into the city to have a look around and what not. At this point, Ashe carried a parasol of sorts with her to block out the sun and to keep it from making her completely sick, other hand clasping Leon’s tightly while Logan, her Liepard, kept himself close to her side.

It was a miserable way of moving about, but it was better then nothing. That being said, in the city they found a number of activities and places to try out and learning about some of the region’s lore prompted them to take a day trip to some nearby ruins where there was enormous amounts of shade which meant she could put the parasol away and simply be. Despite the vibe of not to get too close, Ashe took some pictures at the very least while Leon had his RotomPhone recording all of this for later research at Ashe’s request to send to her grandfather who had been eerily silent despite the pictures she had sent to him. It had crossed Leon’s mind to be concerned as well as Ashe’s, but they opted not too. When he was ready, he would respond. Besides, he was a King Consort in the Demon Realm. He had other obligations to attend too rather then just look at a dinky little phone that was flooded with pictures... and yet Ashe found herself wondering if any of the family liked her photos at all. She had, after all, sent some of the Lental ones she had taken as well a year or so back of the nature there and--

The sound of something taking off had her attention and realizing it was merely been a Pidgey, she took a deep breath to steady herself. Logan and Celeste had reached her first before Leon did, but Ashe reassured them she was alright. She just had the distinct feeling of being watched...

Meanwhile, Grusha was enjoying his time in the port, learning more about the ocean and its ways from local fisherman and sailors. While it might not seem like much, it had helped him to understand Kona a bit better. If he could get a feel for the ocean and understand it as Kona did as well as the wellspring that was Water Primal Energy... perhaps he could understand how to balance himself more. That being said, today, he wasn’t going on the water. No, he was spending it with Wooloo at his side and Ezio on his shoulder. He also had more to figure out with Ezio in particular -- would he evolve into a Glaceon? The Eevee seemed unsure of himself, but he hoped he’d make up his mind sooner or later. Grusha didn’t understand much else besides the Ice Primal Energy after all.

And that left Kianga who wasted no time in getting to know the local pokemon alongside Ruko, even making a friend or two with Lavender’s help, but not much to report otherwise. He kept Blue on his shoulder or in his mane if he took on Zoroark guise... but that remained about it to check in with him.

Next day roll-on!

---

Pueltown, Almia / Chicole Path, Almia !!

Ashe Team: Sylveon (Lucky), Lapras (Loch), Liepard (Logan).

Leon Team: Decidueye (Alola/Celeste), Corviknight (Mordred), Gyarados* (Vivian).

Kianga Team: Espeon (Lavender).

Grusha Team: Weavile (Lolair), Eevee (Ezio), Mantine* (Kona), Wooloo (’Hope’/on loan).

@pokemon-experiments @dimensionhoppinghybrids

#keeping up with the latest on pokegram ;; updates #ashe ;; ic #leon ;; ic #grusha ;; ic #kianga ;; ic

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albontology · 9 months ago

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erm. yippee!

fucking hell, alex thinks, god-given right of kings and they can't keep a spam filter up?

the text, at face value, is innocuous in its obscenity. "hey ALVIN," it reads, "i just turned 18 and an in Your Area! want 2 meet up? 🏎️🥵" on any other day, alex would block the number immediately. today, incandesced by rage and a fear he won't speak to, he allows the message to last for a few more seconds of its stupid, futile life in tiny, grey pixels.

he traces his thumb over his phone's power button and clamps his lower lip between his teeth. around him, people buzz in droves, on phones of their own, bluetooth headsets, walkie-talkies. probably wiring direct messages to mars, for all it'll help. alex has long passed the point where he held his breath for a call to come back with an all clear; still, his mind thrums trying to keep track of the volume in the room.

alex wishes logan were here-- for a myriad of reasons, to see his face, know he's safe, watch him stand, unharmed, and smiling again. alex knows he'd be guaranteed a snort, not a laugh, just something raw, when he'd show logan this bullshit spam message, point out the tacky emojis. logan's eyes would quirk up with little creases radiating at the corners, alex can see it, logan would quip back "a racecar? mate, they know what you like a little too well--"

alex bolts upright in his chair. in the commotion, no one notices he's gone ramrod-straight, perfectly still but for his eyes reading, re-reading the message on his phone.

a racecar. 18. your area. alex thinks back to.

two years ago, a stupidly hot summer, and logan had just come out of the shower and changed into a fittingly bright ensemble for a diplomat's dinner later that evening. he'd draped himself over the chaise, idly browsing on his phone, and alex had been perched at the adjacent armchair, scrubbing over potential talking points. just as alex had opened his mouth to snip at his getting his suit jacket creased, logan had looked up to match his eyes with a mischievous grin.

"alex, look at this," he said, like he didn't have his phone screen shoved under alex's nose already. alex took in the headline-- buzzfeed, that's perfect for a rising noble.

"'mom makes her daughter come home after receiving cryptic text?'"

"no, like, scroll down some more." logan retracted his phone, scrolling down the page himself, before shutting the phone off, seemingly over it. "it's basically... i think we should make a secret code, for if either of us gets in trouble. it would be like, if i sent you an... eggplant emoji, you would know, 'oh, logan needs a ride back to the hotel' or something."

"logan." sometimes, he renders alex at a loss. "i don't know if that's what eggplant emojis mean, mate."

logan had spluttered, "i know that!"

"sure you do," alex said, patronizing more than placating. "anyways. i think our messages are already tapped forward and backwards." he dangled his work phone between two fingers, and logan had tracked the movement. "i don't know if you could say anything that wouldn't get caught and acted on the second after you sent it."

logan seemed put out, but he didn't relent. "c'mon, alex. for fun, even if we never have to use it? i want mine to be the racecar."

alex did as he's wont to do, and said yes.

racecar. 18. your area.

long shot of all long shots: logan is alive.

logan is somewhere nearby, close enough to be in alex's area. and alex could bet his life, is going to bet his life, that he's at the motorsport track just two hours out of the city limits: it's where they celebrated his 18th birthday.

alex might be able to find logan. he shoves his phone into his coat pocket, and he doesn't hesitate.

on the road, alex prays and prays that his gut is right, that logan is there waiting for him. slipping out to the service garage and into his car had been almost too easy with the flurry of activity around him, but crossing the border would be impossible given the current state of the house. if logan's at the track-- since logan's at the track, things can stay simple, easy to fix.

alex's glance darts down for a split second at the phone in his lap. he'd tried texting the number back, a simple "who is this?," and gotten the first message again in return. alex tries to find some consolation in that: logan has someone's phone, and is able to receive and send messages, though the content has to be monitored.

he allows his conviction to grow as the miles tick by. he received the messages on his personal phone, not his business phone, he knows logan has both numbers memorized. if something truly bad had happened, if he was in imminent danger, logan could have very well pulled the same stunt but to his business number, and alex would have gotten it flagged right away. instead, he got it on his personal phone, using their secret code they swore not to tell anyone else. the number 2 was logan's karting number, during that birthday stint. logan is fine. alex is going to be fine, when he finds logan.

by the time alex begins up the winding drive to the track, his palms are no longer sweating as they grip the wheel. his lip is a bloodied mess, and he swears he's gone at least half grey, but he feels a sense of deadened calm as he follows the signs to the parking lot.

there's one other car, already stopped in the nearest place to the track entrance. it's a gaudy powder blue, something out of an old movie. what the fuck is my life. alex allows himself the incredulity.

they're up on the side of a forested hill, and the air is oppressive, made soupy with fog. still, alex can clearly see a man, leaning up against the side of the car. he's taller than logan should be, and as alex inches his car through the lot, he can make out dark shades and a black overcoat. it's stupid, theatrical. alex appreciates it, in a morbid way.

he parks his car a few spaces over, taking a moment before turning it off to stare at his palms in his lap. what am i doing. why did i come here alone? it had felt right at the time, spurred by adrenaline, but now he very well may be alone on a mountainside with either a complete stranger in a cartoons detective's getup or someone who kills royals for fun. he's not sure which is worse.

alex hears a noise from the adjacent car. it's a voice-- two voices. one of them, he could swear he knows it anywhere, it sounds like logan. the other is familiar in a way that itches his brain, dissatisfactory. he looks out to see the man in the overcoat has turned his back on alex's car, is coming around to open up the backseat.

alex knows it's his best chance: he unlocks the door swiftly, lunges out and slams the door shut behind him. he goes to charge at the car ahead but stops short as a familiar blonde head pokes out from behind the man's overcoat-clad shoulder.

the man has held out his hand to logan, who grasps it without hesitation. the man steps aside for logan, who clambers out of the back seat. the man turns to face alex, raises his other hand, takes his sunglasses off.

the man is george russell. alex's first rival, alex's first love, alex's last and latest big regret before he woke up this morning to find logan's spot in the bed empty beside him.

logan, who's wearing the same pajamas as he was wearing last night. logan, who's standing, unharmed, next to george. logan, who's still holding george's hand.

fucking hell.

in a rarepair logalex state of mind.

long-suffering and long-repressed prince's retainer alex to charming but slightly neurotic secondborn prince logan. in a day of national unrest due to a suspected plot against the royal family, alex rushes to logan's suite to find the golden boy has fled the nest-- kidnapped, perhaps? by none other than-- god help him-- alex's one-time karting rival, two-time fuckbuddy, thrice-over contact deleted ex george. the three of them have to get through a week on the lam without anyone getting arrested, getting killed, or getting their heart broken. feat monarchy kink!george, competency kink!logan, and alex in the role of "i'm going to project every repressed desire i've ever had onto you in the form of jokes and counsel"

#jung.txt #632302 #literally how and why did i write this

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 years ago

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Falling

Prompt: Hello hello 👉🏽👈🏽 I hope you don't mind another request from me this soon. I was thinking today of an Anxceit royal au, maybe from the perspectives of the other sides/characters? Just seeing their princes falling in love with each other and having to see them court each other. One, the cunning and well spoken Prince Janus, next in line to the throne, the other the youngest Prince always hidden in his brothers' shadow. Not a very popular figure in court. Idk I feel like that would be so much fun dhsksjsks. Just the idea of Janus looking at Virgil the way Flynn Rider looked at Rapunzel during the Lantern scene gives me the fuzzies. I hope you don't feel pressured, it was just a thought I had - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: background character death

Pairings: anxceit

Word Count: 4589

When the nearby kingdom falls to ruin by corrupt officials taking advantage of their own monarch’s ailing health, it is only natural that Logan should suggest that the King and Queen take in the royal child while the kingdom is sorted out. After all, there is no place for a child in the hotbeds of greedy nobles, and this had been the one place he had known before his life changed irrevocably.

The child’s name is Virgil, a name bestowed to him in one of his father’s last moments of clarity, and he tends to prefer the quieter halls of his home, roaming about silently with a black cloak slung about his shoulders. It had been quite an adjustment for the guards, to see a little child wandering about seemingly with no interest in being found.

More than once, Logan had been called by a guard who hadn’t been sure whether to scold or comfort the child, only to find said child hanging by the scruff of his neck, his arms crossed, waiting to be let go so that he may roam again.

“He’s a child,” he says whenever a guard brings up the issue, “would you rather he wander the back halls or get underfoot?”

And so the child had been allowed to roam.

Now, that is not to say that he was entirely free to go where he wished. Logan had asked the King and Queen to enforce some restriction—if only so they could find their new ward when he was needed. He would stick to the upper floors of the castle, not to go out onto the turrets where the walls needed some repair, and—if he could—to let someone know the vague whereabouts of his locations.

The child was…a peculiar one, to say the least. Not outwardly rude nor discourteous, nor was he…rambunctious, per se, but he was…odd.

For one, he had an unerring knack of pointing out something that was wrong. Not a word misspelled or a glass spilled, but…something the guards hadn’t considered. Something the King was worried about that he hadn’t brought up at the dinner table. Something the Queen had asked him about doing that she hadn’t done herself.

And, of course, whenever the Prince was lying.

Prince Janus was not a dishonest man, of course. He had been raised far too well and with far too much discipline to be one. But he was fond of leading one down many paths to discover a truth, much more fond of that than to simply say it outright. His parents hoped it would lead him to becoming a greater diplomat, to be able to work his way through the words he needed in order to convince others to secretly do as he wished. This was, of course, mostly hopeful thinking, as Prince Janus much preferred toying with the other noble boys who had nasty habits of putting their hands where they didn’t belong or touting themselves a bit too much for his liking.

Privately, they couldn’t complain much, but they did worry when it came to him making friends.

It was a shock, then, when Prince Janus attempted to tell such a lie at the dinner table—not a large one, just that he preferred to practice sword fighting after dinner so that he had more energy—and Virgil had looked up at him.

“You do it ‘cause then you have an excuse for being slower.”

It had been the first full sentence either the King or Queen—or Logan, for that matter—had heard out of him. Prince Janus, on the other hand, had simply rolled his eyes and said that Virgil was lucky he didn’t have to tussle with the old sword master yet. Virgil had shrugged and gone back to his meal.

It was not long after that, though, that the King and Queen realized that the only person who could reliably predict where, in fact, Virgil would be, was Prince Janus.

Perhaps they needn’t have worried.

All the greatest stories are told in the kitchen.

There is a special sort of story one tells in the kitchen, after all, that are not meant for the great illustrious ears of the higher-ups, meant for those who can steal away between the baking and the bubbling to snatch bits of gossip and conversation from mouths that do far more talking than tasting. It is safe, there, hidden behind the clanging of pots and pans, where you can just as easily pretend that you were speaking of something else than admit to what you were actually saying.

So, naturally, as one of the head cooks, Patton gets to hear all sorts of stories from around the castle.

This one had to hide in the closet from where she was trying on one of the Queen’s gowns—not that the Queen would have terribly minded, of course, she just likes to be asked first—that one had to help the gardener sneak over the wall when he’d accidentally locked the keys inside the shed. Another had to steal an apple back from the dinner platters because it had a worm inside it, another still had to leave unexpectedly because their sister had just given birth.

And, of course, there are the stories that make their way into his ears in the quiet of night when the Prince steals downstairs for a quick snack.

Officially, of course, this doesn’t happen. This is not how a Prince should behave, this is not proper eating habits that he should be encouraging, nor is it befitting for someone who must stand around on their feet all day take any less than all the rest they have to sleep and re-energize themselves.

On the other hand, Patton has known Janus since he was a little boy, and he knows better than most that the heads that wear the crowns are heavy indeed and there are not many who would treat him as a growing man and not the heir to the throne.

And so, on certain nights where Patton wakes with a certain air in his room, he tucks his apron on and heads to the kitchens to see Janus perched on a stool at the end of one of the counters, looking up at him the same way he has since he couldn’t see over the edge.

All sorts of stories come out in the kitchen. A boy whose ball had broken a window. Another whose cat had scampered up a tree and they’d all scraped their knees terribly trying to get it down. Another boy whose sister had just been married off, and they were all sad because they’d liked her, she was fun, they wanted her to come back.

Princes do have so much to be thankful for, as is true, but a child needs a space to complain. Patton has long since confessed that he will only tell the King and Queen of something if he feels it puts Janus in danger. Anything else and he will take it to his grave. And so he is the one who most often hears the frustrated mumblings of not being able to understand this part of the tutoring books, how to do this thing with a sword. How the other boys often won’t actually fight with him because he’s the Prince and they’re afraid of being punished for injuring him. Or how he’s hankering for more responsibility because how can he actually understand how to run a kingdom if they won’t let him?

No source of annoyance holds these late-night talks for so long as the topic of Virgil.

Janus hadn’t wanted another child in the castle. He said so, many times. He hadn’t wanted someone else to kick at his heels or tug on his clothes, saying he got enough of that from the other boys and the dogs. He hadn’t wanted to share, to be pushed out of his places that were his places. He hadn’t understood why a child who had lost so much had to come here.

Then he hadn’t wanted the other boys to play with Virgil. Because they had ways of playing that Virgil didn’t understand. When Patton had asked if they could teach Virgil, Janus had shaken his head. It’s not just something you can explain, he’d said, they’d just make fun of him.

It had then become they’ll hurt him. They think he’s weird and they don’t like him and they make fun of him for hiding in the shadows all the time. I don’t want them near him.

And slowly it had gone from Virgil annoying him to him being annoyed that Virgil wasn’t being treated well. Patton had listened patiently to each story as his hands worked, and at the end of each one, as he does every night, he hands Janus a little treat of something sweet and a hot toddy.

“It seems to me,” he says, “that you’re more worried about Virgil than you are your friends.”

Janus had huffed that yeah, of course he was. Virgil didn’t have anybody to take care of him. So Janus had to do it.

Patton treasures every single story Janus shares with him during these nights, but he especially loves the ones where Janus tells him of the games he plays with Virgil, the ones he smiles while telling.

To many, he is simply The Chief Investigator.

He cannot pretend that he despises his reputation, not when the mere idea that he might get involved leads most of the sniveling and quibbling lords to throw themselves at the feet of the King and Queen and confess their crimes. No, it keeps the kingdom safe, and it ensures that those who do intend to cause harm are aware of the consequences that might await them should they decide to act out.

Now, there are some who spin wildly off into the likes of rumor and speculation, who say that he can walk through walls, he has eyes and ears everywhere, and if you so much as think of doing something to harm the kingdom, he will know about it and he will find you. He is only a man, after all. A man with a vast wealth of secrets, perhaps, but still just a man.

That is not to say that he doesn’t indulge those rumors occasionally. He’s quite fond of concealing himself in the shadows of a given room and simply walking out to see the person flinch and wonder if he’s been there the whole time.

But to the King and Queen, and especially to the little snake of a prince, Janus, he’s simply Remus.

Remus had been the first to teach Janus just how crafty you needed to be to understand the immensity of the world around you, that just because you felt safe now did not mean you did not have to work to keep yourself that way. You needed to be smart, you needed to be aware, and you needed to know who you could trust.

He had laughed when Janus had asked if he could trust Remus, and said that was the smartest question he could have asked.

More often than not, the two of them played simple games. Remus would hide a note in Janus’s room, or among his things in the armory, and Janus would have to discover the note and leave another for Remus to find. Or Remus would place an object somewhere just out of place and it would be up to Janus to locate that object and leave it on the desk outside Remus’s official quarters. Simple things, to test and keep him sharp, and occasionally a little reminder not to get a big head. Lessons that could be taught in passing, ones that had to be sought after without directly saying what they were.

Very rarely had Janus truly come to him for help.

When the other boys had scared him with rumors that assassins were coming for his parents. When he’d woken up from a nightmare when all he ate and drank were poisoned. When one of his friends had mysteriously gone missing and no one could find a trace of her anywhere.

Each time, the boy had asked not as a prince, but as a terrified child, and each time, Remus had done his very best to make things right once more.

Because it was one thing to raise the Prince to be a clever King, it was another to torture a child that was already scared of all they did not know.

But the one that he can remember the most vividly is when Janus had crashed into him after running around the castle in a panic, saying he couldn’t find Virgil anywhere.

It comes out in bursts as they take off, searching for the little one. They had only been teasing. Virgil had been terrified and they hadn’t noticed. He’d run off and they hadn’t seen him since sundown. The gate was open. The guards had been rotating. No one had been able to tell where he might have gotten to.

Remus had calmly asked where Virgil liked to go when he was upset. Janus had shaken his head wildly, saying he didn’t know, he didn’t know what to do, until Remus had taken him by the shoulders.

“You do know,” he says in a low voice, “you do know where he goes. Do not think about what you’ve done, only what you must do now.”

Janus had closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths, before saying I know where he is.

They had found the little ball of black fabric curled up in the old closet of the bedroom nearest the turrets. Janus had reached in and pulled Virgil into his arms, the two of them twisting around and around each other, muttering frantic apologies until they’d both started crying.

Remus had watched over them, that night, draping blankets and placing cushions so they wouldn’t be sore as they awoke.

The Prince had two shadows after that night. One that lurked just out of sight, the other clutching his cloak.

It is a wonder to watch a child grow up.

For a doctor, especially one who is charged with taking care of the royal family, there is no shortage of knowledge you must accrue to treat things that may happen. Simply understanding what you are doing is not enough. For children that spend several of their formative years under your care, you must prepare yourself for a lot of questions.

Why your hair grows in so many places, why your nose works the way it does, why grown-ups look a little bit different, why you don’t quite look like a grown-up yet.

Of course, there are only so many things children will have the patience for, and so you must also take after the innkeeper and learn to become a storyteller. Thankfully for Picani, his sister is an innkeeper and passes along her best tips for him to use when he must talk to the Prince about why he has to eat and drink all the time and not just once a day.

He hears the King and Queen had been quite grateful that their child had been more willing to sit and stay during meal times after he’d explained.

But for another child to come in, it can be difficult. Understanding a complete history for a patient is easier when you’ve quite literally watched them grow up before your eyes. For a new chid, especially one that doesn’t trust you, it can be difficult.

Virgil had been about two years younger than Prince Janus when he first became the King and Queen’s ward. He hunched more, slumped a bit as Picani tried to examine him, avoided answering certain questions as though they’d get him in trouble. It had taken many tries and many more assurances to finally get Virgil to relax a little and be comfortable with coming to ask for help.

This had been accomplished with, Picani is not too proud to admit, no small amount of help from Janus.

I’ve grown up with him as my doctor, he remembers Janus saying, he’s a good one. He’s nice, he won’t hurt you. He actually knows what he’s doing, not like all the other doctors.

He had guessed that was because he actually took the time to answer and explain when Janus asked him a question, due more to his own patience than the inexperience of other doctors. But Virgil had relaxed a bit at that, even allowing some more examinations if Janus would stay in the room. Of course, there comes a time where privacy becomes more of a concern and so Janus would wait outside the room for Virgil’s exam and then Virgil would wait outside for Janus.

And so it went as the boys grew from children to young men.

It became an excuse for them to skirt some other tasks, Picani is sure, and yet he never dissuaded one from taking comfort in the presence of the other. It certainly made his job easier, not having to run around looking for them to come and ensure a clean bill of health. And with that the questions became more personal.

Why this was happening now, why this thing that used to happen isn’t working anymore, and what on earth was happening here?

He answers them as best he could, even regaling stories of his own youth, and more often than not it comes down to don’t worry about that, it’s natural. It will stop in time.

Until, of course, there comes a day where Prince Janus comes alone, fretting that he’s sick.

Picani has him hop up on the table, fetching his instruments, patiently asking him to describe his symptoms. He listens to his heart, his lungs, tests his reflexes, he cannot see anything obviously wrong.

It comes and goes, says the Prince, just—my chest will begin to hurt. And my stomach will feel weird and I’ll get hot all of a sudden. It feels like I can’t talk without being sick.

Have you noticed, he asks, when these seem to come on?

That’s the thing, it seems to be random. I can’t pick out anything they have in common except—

…except?

When the Prince had shyly confessed they all happen around Virgil, and asked if it would go away in time, Picani had simply smiled.

“You’re in no danger, dear boy. Though perhaps this is something you should ask your parents.

They’ve just gone to sleep, many parents say to their children when they ask why their elders family members won’t get up anymore, they’re sleeping now.

It is not often said that they will never wake up again.

Remy is aware that his presence is not a cheerful one in the kingdom. No one calls for an undertaker during a pleasant time. It is always the sign that something has happened, something that will mean fragility in a community where sore spots need to heal and people need time to come back together. More often than not, this has led to a few…chilly welcomes.

No one is unkind, of course. He is not responsible for the grief himself; they must call him, after all, it is not as if he is unexpected. And, for the simple fact that everyone wishes only the best for their loved ones, he is treated with a love of respect that even the most uncouth of passers-by will not disrupt. In return, he does not mince words with what must be done, but neither is he unkind about the nature of what has happened.

All things that wake must go to sleep, after all.

It is one thing, though, to pass by for a single house. It is another when the King himself is the one who must be taken.

For a child to grieve his father, it is not uncommon to find him lashing out in pain. He has lost his father, after all, it is natural to be scared and hurt about what has happened. It is another entirely for a Prince to lose his King, and for an entire swarm of nobles to turn to him as if they expect him to effortlessly shoulder the crown he has now been given.

Fortunately for them all, the Queen is there to take his place. She is a formidable ruler in her own right, but there will always be those who doubt her. Her advisors—the clever ones, at least—and those who remember how much the King admired her stick by her side, and by her sons, as they figure out what next to do.

But still, among the diplomacy and the new responsibilities and everything that comes from transforming Prince into Prince Regent, there is still a child who has lost his father.

Remy comes upon him quite by accident. The King has been laid in his burial chamber, where his body is to be prepared in order to pass on. It is late, well into the night, where Remy can be assured no one will disturb him as he finishes the final preparations. It is a shock, but not a large one, to find both boys huddled near the King’s side.

He cannot hear them beyond hushed voices, nor can he see much past their dimly lit faces. He can hear sobs, though, and he can see the way a hand goes to wipe tears from a shivering cheek. He can see the way shoulders slump, a head comes to rest on a shoulder, and arms wrap around a waist to pull it close.

There has been talk of how remarkably Prince Janus has taken the loss of his father. How he has stepped up to become a ruler in his own right, still learning as all young people must do but showing that he is more than capable. How stoic he has been, accepting condolences with grace, comforting crying mourners with a solemn acceptance that comes with maturity far beyond his years. Talk of how he will one day be just as great a King, perhaps even greater.

And yet here, in the burial chamber, Janus is still a boy who has lost his father, and Virgil another who makes him feel safe enough to ask for comfort.

The preparations can wait another day.

+1.

It is a known fact amongst most royals that once you become of age, you must marry. For Prince Roman, who had known this fact for most of his life, he has had equally enough time to convince a doubtful advisor that it didn’t matter who he married, as long as he loved them.

For an advisor, this is, apparently, the worst thing a royal can say. For he must be smart, apparently, and marry for the good of the kingdom.

What good to a kingdom is a discontent King?

But, as are most things, he cannot stop the inevitable and so when he hears that the prince of a neighboring kingdom has come of age as well, he asks permission to see if their marriage would be a good one.

Then he meets Prince Janus.

The man is…fascinating. He seems to see through Roman in many ways, many more than he would care to admit. He confesses more secrets in the first few hours spent with Janus than he has to his own mother in the span of years. He finds out things that he’d never hoped to learn, discovers truths in places he didn’t think to look, and finds himself endlessly, endlessly intrigued by him.

He can only hope that he’s doing a fine enough job of presenting himself as well.

They spend time in the libraries, on the training fields, on horseback through the gardens. They share stories of their kingdoms, complaints about what it means to still be so young and be trusted with so much, and just how best to ask your tutor a question that means they’ll spend the whole time talking themselves in circles instead of actually making you work.

But there is a problem.

And this problem is not that Roman could not grow to love Janus, but that Janus is so painfully in love with someone else.

There is another prince of age in this kingdom after all, a ward taken in from childhood. Prince Virgil, a character that Roman has more heard about than seen, unless you count that glare he feels on the back of his neck sometimes when he’s walking down the halls. He can’t imagine he’s done anything to offend a man he’s never spoken to, except, of course, that he comes with the intention of determining whether he’s going to marry Janus.

Was he heartbroken to discover this? Perhaps, if only that it meant he would spend less time getting to know Janus, but he was more flabbergasted that a man who could seeming split him in two in under a second could not see that he was so obviously in love.

It had been the night before Roman left the kingdom, the night where he was supposed to propose the marriage, when Janus had suddenly blurted out that he couldn’t do this anymore.

It’s not fair to you, he says, I’ve—I’ve been cruel and unfair and you must think so poorly of me.

What had followed had been a stumbling and bumbling confession that he wasn’t in love with Roman, could’ve been, but wasn’t, and it wasn’t fair for Roman to keep himself here for someone that could never be his.

And so Roman simply smiles, and has the rare satisfaction of getting to tell Janus something about himself he hadn’t known before.

“You love him.”

Once he’d recovered from the shock—and come to the conclusion that Roman was right—he’d babbled another apology, only for Roman to raise his hand and say it wasn’t necessary. Janus hadn’t owed him anything more than a chance, after all, and he’d been the most interesting way to spend time in the kingdom Roman could ask for. All he needed in return was the promise that Janus would speak to Virgil about these feelings.

Should you ever need it, Janus had promised, our kingdom is your ally. We needn’t marry for such a thing to be agreed.

Roman had returned to his own kingdom without a betrothed but with an alliance, and so none of the advisors could say a damn thing about it.

He did order them to keep an eye out for a wedding invitation, though. He wouldn’t miss that for the world.

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#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #logan sanders #roman sanders #remy #picani

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im-an-anxious-wreck · 3 years ago

Text

Inspire

AO3 link

Summary: King Roman had never thought himself the fatherly type. He hadn't had the best example growing up, his father had been… negligent at best.

And while everyone had always praised Roman's father for being a good king, a good father, they did not.

But somehow, despite never expecting to be any sort of fatherly figure or even a mentor, Roman takes a young magical boy in as his ward. What was Roman supposed to do? Just leave Patton in the hands of the awful person who was misusing him for his magic? Hah, Roman thought not.

Will Roman be able to help Patton fit in? Or will he end up just like his father?

Warnings: cursing, kissing, very mild injury, poison/poisoning (doesn't go into gorey detail), some child abuse in the beginning that will probably be referenced later (all sides are sympathetic though)

Universe: Magic/royal au

Perspective/main character: Roman

Side/secondary characters: Patton, Janus, Logan

Appear: Virgil, Remus, Remy, Emile

Romantic relationships: Roceit, background established Dukexiety

Platonic relationships: Roman and Patton, Janus and Logan, Roman and Logan, Janus and Patton

Word Count: 17,458

Link to my collection of TSS fanworks

Any historical inaccuracies are sponsored by this is a fantasy world and I do what I want

This is my second fic for @ts-storytime's big bang challenge!

You can find the adorable art by @thebestworstidea here!!

Thanks to @threecrowsinatrenchcoat for beta-ing!

Roman had never thought himself the best person, nor a particularly great king, but he tried. He did what he could, he did his best, and hoped it was enough. It'd… he'd have to be enough.

He couldn't do everything, and what he did do had to be within the confines of the law, but he couldn't stand by and do nothing. Not when Logan had broken into the castle just to see the library before he died of starvation, and not when he heard a blacksmith yelling at a kid for letting the fire get too low.

And it was no wonder it had gotten so low, the kid looked absolutely exhausted and was— by Remus' morning star, the kid was using fire magic! Why the kid couldn't have been more than ten, and yet he'd clearly been doing sustained fire magic. Even Roman would be exhausted from doing that all day.

The kid wimped and the flames jumped a bit higher, only fueling the fire raging in Roman's gut on the kid's behalf.

"Deep breath," Roman's adviser, Janus whispered. "Pause, remember your intentions, then act."

Roman's chest expanded and contracted with air as he set his intention. Get the kid to safety and try not to don't start a fight. Easy.

Maybe he shouldn't have gone out in disguise today; his usual crown locked away back at the castle and a plain tunic and breeches underneath his red traveling cloak.

Well, there was no point thinking about that now.

Roman walked up to the man, the clacking of his boots on the cobblestone echoing in his ears, and his form strengthened with far more confidence than he actually had. The man barely glanced up at Roman before continuing to ignore him so Roman pursed his lips and said, "Excuse me."

The blacksmith sighed in annoyance before finally looking up at Roman. "What?"

"Is that child yours?"

"Oh, Merlin's balls, what's he done now?"

"Well, nothing. It's actually—"

"Good, then fuck off."

"I— excuse me?"

"You heard me, Buckethead. Fuck. Off."

"Buckethead! I'm not even wearing my hel—"

Roman took another deep breath.

Get the child to safety.

"Sir, you're under arrest."

"What?!" The man squawked indignity. "What for? You can't do that!"

Roman paused for a moment. "Alright. Fair enough. Virgil!"

Virgil practically appeared out of nowhere next to Roman's shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Might I recommend that you arrest him for child abuse?"

"You most certainly can." Virgil's eyes narrowed at the blacksmith, looking at him with deep disgust. "Sir, you are under arrest for the mistreatment and abuse of a child under your care, as well as violating the Worker Safety and Protection Act."

Virgil made a small gesture and two knights down the busy street left their posts and put the man in iron cuffs.

The man turned towards Roman, glaring at him as he roared, "Who do you think you are?! Getting me arrested by the damn captain of the guard for him," He snarled, jerking his head back to the shop briefly, "For him doing magic!"

"Ah, sorry. I suppose I did forget to introduce myself. I'm Roman. King Roman Sanders."

A man just spluttered dumbfoundedly.

Roman resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead continuing, "Also the problem really isn't with magic, it's with you mistreating him. Good day."

The man tried to argue more —seriously, does he not have any self-preservation?— but Roman had already walked around him to where the young boy was watching the whole ordeal from the corner of the blacksmith shop.

Roman crouched down a little ways away from the child, not wanting him to feel trapped. "Hello."

The boy stared at him for a moment before softly saying, "Hi."

Roman smiled gently at him. "It's nice to meet you. My name's Roman."

"Yeah… I heard."

"Ah, I see. What's your name?"

"...Patton."

Roman had planned to take Patton to an orphanage, but something about how he held himself, something about how he was curled into a tight ball, eyes glittering with equal parts fear and curiosity, it made him think of when he'd found Virgil in his early twenties. Virgil was only five years younger than Roman, and, despite being a teenager at the time, he'd looked so young and small; a symptom from being in one of the neighboring kingdoms' children army.

Patton glanced up at Roman and then down again before finally settling on his hands, and Roman knew, he knew that he'd be taking another person into his small but apparently ever-growing family. Only if Patton wanted him to though, of course.

Roman's knees started to ache so he gently sat down, careful not to make any sudden moves. "How would you like to live with me in the castle?"

"...I don't have any money."

"Ah, no, you wouldn't have to pay."

"Oh… what would you want me to do then? Maybe my magic could be useful to you in some way?"

Roman could practically feel his heart sink in his chest. "I'm not taking you in to be useful, young one."

"Oh…" Patton frowned, considering Roman's words, and Roman let him. "Can— may I ask why you're taking me in then?"

"That's a good question… one that I don't completely know the answer to. But I do know that you didn't deserve to suffer, and I want you to be taken care of. And I'm going to personally make sure that you always have somewhere to stay and be safe, okay?"

"Okay, I— thank you. If you ever change your mind though, I understand."

"I'm quite sure that I won't. Even if you didn't want to live in the castle anymore, I'd still make sure that you have a safe place to live."

"Oh, well that… thank you, sir."

"Now how about we pack anything of yours and then you can meet my two friends, alright?"

"Alright. I'll be very quick, sir."

"That's fine. I'm not in a rush though."

…

After they grabbed Patton's small amount of clothing, they met up with Virgil and Janus, both seeming to take to the child well.

Virgil's guard's had taken the blacksmith away and so the four of them walked to the point where they were to meet the carriage to take them back to the castle.

Roman looked at the child, mind already whirring with all the things he'd need. Patton would definitely need clothes and tutors, a room… there were a few in the royal wing that he might potentially like.

"Patton?"

Patton's eyes snapped to Roman. "Yes?"

"Do you have a favourite colour?"

"Mm… yeah."

"Well, mine's red."

Patton still didn't say his so Virgil declared, "Bet you can't guess mine!" As they made a show of adjusting his purple cape.

Patton almost seemed to be holding back a small smile. "Purple?"

Virgil lightly gasped. "You got it right! What about your favourite colour, Jan?"

"My favourite is definitely the colour of vomit."

Virgil rolled his eyes, and pretended to scold Janus, saying, "Janus Hierophant, your favourite colour is definitely not vomit."

"Alright, fine, Virgil Storm, it's whatever the ugliest colour you can think of is then."

"No, it's yellow!" Patton added, eyes bright as his lips curled upwards ever so slightly.

They all stopped walking and stared at Patton, whose face instantly fell, shoulders hunched.

"Sorry," Patton mumbled.

"You're fine… and right. I'm not sure how you knew that as I'm wearing all black today… but you're right."

"Um… I don't really know either. Sometimes I just know stuff," Patton said as they all continued walking.

"Ah, I see. You might have some intuition-based magic then. What's my favourite animal?"

"...You say it's snakes, but it's actually honey badgers."

Virgil whistled low. "Damn, lying to us, Jan? How dare you."

Virgil said it in such an obviously joking tone that Roman didn't even realise how it might come across to Patton until he heard a small sniffle behind him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get Mr. Hierophant in trouble!"

Janus' demeanor shifted instantly. "You're fine, I'm not in trouble. They were just teasing me."

"...Okay. 'M still sorry."

"It's alright," Janus soothed. "No one's mad."

Patton nodded, eyes still darting around like someone was suddenly going to be angry.

Roman decided to change the conversation, hoping that that might help ease Patton's fear. "Oh, I never got the chance to ask you, Patton, what's your favourite colour?" Technically he'd only asked if Patton had a favorite color, so since the child had taken it so literally, Roman needed to be more specific.

"...Blue, like the sky."

"Ooh, that's a very nice colour."

Patton nodded hesitantly.

Perfect, Roman knew exactly which room to give Patton. It couldn't be more suited for him unless Roman had magically known his tastes and decorated it accordingly.

Patton was absolutely going to love the blue walls with white clouds painted on them. It looked just like the sky and Roman could hardly wait for Patton to see it.

They stopped to get some food for lunch and pretty quickly after they'd paid for it, the carriage arrived.

As Patton ate his bread, looking out the window thoughtfully, Roman couldn't help but feel very grateful that he'd listened to Janus' apprentice. Not only was Logan very smart and learnt quickly, but he sometimes had visions.

That had been the entire reason for Roman's visit from his castle overlooking the valley to the town nestled down in the valley. Logan had said that the bear spirit of children and mistreated workers, Osha had come to him in a dream and told him that Roman needed to make a trip to town. She hadn't told Logan why, just that Roman would know what to do.

And although Roman hadn't realised it at the time, he really had known what to do.

Logan had only been at the castle for a few months, but had settled in quite well, quickly learning a lot from the many books he read and from being under Janus' care.

His dark brown eyes shone with the glitter of knowledge and curiosity, and Logan's curls were a lot healthier after the court physician and herbalist, Emile, had shown Logan some hair care that Logan hadn't had access to when he lived on the streets.

Actually getting the nutrients Logan needed had also helped him flourish, his frame no longer so thin and boney.

It was almost hard to believe that it'd only been a few months, but at the same time it almost seemed like longer; Logan fit right in.

Roman sat down in his room by the roaring fireplace.

Roman's recent meeting of Patton had made him think of when Janus had taken Logan in…

Roman was looking over some information about his kingdom in his private study when his adviser, Janus came in, escorting a boy about fifteen. They both walked to the middle of the room.

"Your majesty," Janus said curtly with a nod.

Roman set down the documents, now fully turning to face the both of them, taking in the boy's mismatched, worn, ill-fitting —albeit clean— clothes and cracked glasses. The boy's hair was in rather loose, uneven corn rows, it looked like he'd most likely done them himself and without the aid of a mirror.

"Yes?" Roman asked.

"I… I'd like you to hear me out before you cast your judgment."

Roman furrowed his brow, glancing at the boy again. "I always try to, but I will make extra sure that I do this time. What happened?"

"This young man broke into the castle—"

"I didn't break in. Nothing was broken."

"...Alright." Janus conceited, despite usually being no-nonsense and absolutely hating being interrupted. "He snuck into the castle without permission, and into our main library without being detected."

"Well, it seemed like he was detected at some point."

"I— yes. I found him in there reading a book, but that's not the point."

"Then what is the point? I presume that there's more to the story, otherwise you would've dealt with it yourself."

"Of course. I'd never waste your time like that. He's an orphan and wanted to see the great library before he died of hunger," Janus said, voice even more emotionless than usual.

"Alright… So, wh—" Then it hit Roman.

Janus was standing slightly in front of the boy; right arm slightly out, not to keep the boy back, but to keep the boy from Roman; Janus' face and voice had been professional at best, and purposely flat at the worst. Janus… cared about the boy, but was trying not to show it. Hmm…

"Ah, I see."

"...You do?" Janus asked, almost apprehensively.

"Yes, I do. Do what you see fit and let me know if you need something, anything from me."

"Oh… I mean, yes, alright. Thank you." Janus finally dropped the arm he'd been half holding in from of the boy, clearly no longer concerned that the boy's wellbeing was in danger.

Roman looked at the boy. "So, you really wanted to see our library before you died?"

The boy's eyes looked slightly afraid, but he hid it about as well as Janus did. "Yes, sire. I figured if I was going to die, I might as well have seen the most magnificent library in the kingdom, or die trying."

"How would you feel about being an apprentice instead of that death you seem to be so sure is going to happen soon?"

"An apprenticeship?"

"With me," Janus cut in. "If you'd like." Janus turned to look at the boy easier. "You'd learn all sorts of things. An advisor must be knowledgeable in a lot of different subjects after all. But you absolutely can say no. There'd be no consequences for doing so as I'd simply just find a good orphanage for you to live in. And I understand if you need some time to think it ov—"

"Yes," The boy said, almost desperately, interrupting Janus for the second time.

But Janus didn't seem to mind, only looking at the boy in surprise. "...Yes, you'd like more time to think it over, or yes, you'd like to be my apprentice?"

"Yes, I'd like to be your apprentice… please."

"Oh, right. I— great. Um… would you like me to find public housing for you, or would you rather stay here in the castle? I believe there's some quarters near mine, you know, that way if you needed anything, I'd be right there."

"In the castle would be preferable, thank you."

"Right… and of course we'll need to stop by the seamstress… perhaps after you bathe though. Oh, and you'll need new glasses. Do you want a haircut?"

"Yes, please."

"So the barber as well…"

"Well," Roman said, clapping his hands together gently. "I don't suppose I'm needed for this part, and besides, Janus has been quite firm that I need to memorize all twenty of these pages before my meeting tomorrow, so I should really be getting back to them."

Janus rolled his eyes. "I definitely most did not tell you to memorize them. Just a run-through is fine."

"Well, no matter. I have pages to read, and Janus needs to show you to your quarters and take care of your other necessities. Ah, and perhaps a visit to the physician and then subsequently the kitchen."

"Oh, of course. Good idea."

Roman felt a bit bad just calling the boy… well, 'the boy' all the time. "What's your name?"

"My name is Logan, sire."

"Well, as you might know, I'm Roman." Roman held his hand out and shook the bo— Logan's hand.

"I… am aware."

"Well, let me formally welcome you to the castle. I hope you enjoy your time here and don't hesitate to let me or Janus know if you need anything. Oh, and you should know, now that you're the royal advisor's apprentice, you'll have access to the very exclusive Royal Library as well as the one that's open to all people who live here. We call it the Grand Library."

Logan's eyes widened in shock. "Really? I can visit not only the Grand Library, but the Royal Library as well?"

"That's right."

"Wow… oh, er, thank you."

"You're welcome, Logan. I know you'll appreciate and take care of the books."

"Yes, I will, sir."

Roman smiled at Logan before turning to Janus. "I expect him to shadow you for at least a week before he's left on his own outside of his room."

Janus inclined his head. "Of course, your majesty."

Roman smiled to himself.

He'd been a little unsure about Logan but his magic hadn't felt anything off and if anything had actually pulled Roman to Logan. Roman suspected that Janus had felt that same magical pull, especially seeing how protective of Logan he was, and how quickly he grew to care for the boy.

It was easier to recognise that pull Janus had to Logan now as Roman had felt it towards Patton just that morning.

Roman sighed and began pacing again.

Logan knew what it felt like to be new to the castle and from a bad situation, maybe he'd have some advice for Roman. He really felt out of his depth here.

Janus had been the one to arrange for everything that Logan had needed, so Roman really didn't know what to do. Despite taking in several people, he still didn't feel very good at it.

Maybe he should ask Janus as well.

Roman walked through the halls, his red, detachable cape billowing out behind him as castle workers moved out of his way and bowed their heads in respect.

It was late afternoon and Roman suspected that Janus and Logan were probably either in the Royal Library or in Janus' office. However, the library was a bit more likely at the moment.

Roman nodded to the guard outside the door and flung both doors open a bit more dramatically than perhaps was necessary. The guard closed them behind Roman.

Logan looked up from his book from where he sat in an armchair, Janus in the other one, and Roman could practically feel Janus' eye roll.

"Good day, sire," Logan greeted as he stood and bowed. "Mr. Hierophant filled me in with what transpired this morning, I'm glad my prophecy was useful."

Roman gestured for Logan to sit as he said, "And I as well. That's what I wished to discuss actually. I'd imagine that the castle took some getting used to when you had first arrived, and so I was hoping you might have some advice to make Patton feel more welcome. Also, that Janus might have something as well. I know he orchestrated a lot of your care."

"Well," Janus said, drawing out the word in his elongated speech pattern, "That doesn't sound like it could be a long conversation, don't sit down." Janus summoned a chair close to his and Logan's. "I can tell when you're feeling awkward while standing after all."

After Roman sat down he laughed lightly. "True, you did teach me how to hide it somewhat though."

"May I ask how long the both of you have known each other?"

"Of course, Logan. I don't pretend to speak for Janus, but unless I am otherwise occupied with royal duties, you may always ask me questions. If I don't have the answer or want to answer, I'll just state as such."

"I believe I've told you something similar about questions relating to knowledge," Janus said. "But I shall extend it to the length that our king has."

"Ah, but to answer your question," —Roman briefly glanced at Janus for permission to share, catching the small squint of approval which was most likely unnoticed by Logan (despite his wonderful observant skills), before Roman continued— "We've known each other about… well, since my coronation at eighteen, he was only fifteen so I waited a few years to let him learn more and get more experience and exposure to other cultures.

"Everyone tried to get me to take an older adviser, and I did assemble a small council of elders for some matters of advice and to keep me in check, I especially needed their advice while Janus was traveling and learning, but I just knew that Janus was supposed to be my personal and the head advisor. Even though he was only nineteen when I made his position official, he was and still is wise beyond his years."

"My my, getting sappy on me, my king?" Janus jested.

"Always," Roman joked, affection for his adviser and friend warming his chest.

There was a small pause before Logan said, "Ah, I got us off topic with my question, I believe you were asking about things you could do to make Patton feel more comfortable?"

Roman finally looked away from Janus. "Yes, that's correct."

"Well, I'd imagine— er…" Logan exhaled. "From experience, I know that since he's most likely dealt with food scarcity, it's important to make sure that he has a good relationship with food, even if it takes a while to get there. I'd recommend making a plan with Dr. Picani."

"Mm, good idea."

"Perhaps we could give him some non-perishable snacks that he could keep in his room," Janus suggested. "That way he can hide them wherever he wants and doesn't have to worry about them being taken away."

"Yes, that's a good idea as well. I'll talk to Emile about getting the nutrition he needs as well as the head chef about non-perishable snacks. Thank you both for the help."

Roman stood and Logan hastened to do the same before bowing.

"You're welcome, sire."

Roman inclined his head. Even though he'd told Logan that he didn't have to stand and bow every time Roman came and went —especially in close company—, he still seemed to feel the need to anyway.

"See you later, my king," Janus said in that sly tone that suggested that he knew something the other person didn't, although Roman couldn't think what, so it was most likely that Janus was just messing with him.

"Have a good rest of your day."

As Roman went back to his kingly duties, he couldn't get Janus' soft smirk out of his head.

…Well, Janus did have a rather nice face.

In hindsight, maybe Roman should have realised that throwing a big party to announce and introduce his ward wasn't the best idea for a traumatised kid.

He felt bad but it was why he was all the more grateful that Logan had told him to give Patton somewhere to go to if he was feeling overwhelmed.

Roman wasn't sure if Patton would want company, but he'd at least check on him while Janus distracted some of the guests. Janus could be quite crafty and easily turned people's attention away from disappearing royal members. His charm seemed to naturally come to him in an almost genuine way, and if Roman hadn't seen him without it, hadn't seen his snide, passive aggressiveness, and sarcastic nature behind closed doors, he'd have no idea that wasn't Janus' genuine personality.

Roman sighed. He really didn't get out to the maze often enough, he was pretty sure that he was pretty lost and wasn't quite sure how to fix that problem. Fire magic was certainly out of the question, the gardener —an older, pleasant enough woman— would not be happy about a path carved through, even if Roman kept it contained and didn't burn down the whole maze. She loved plants and took pride in her work, besides, it just seemed like a shame to mess up part of the maze like that just because Roman was bad when it came to outdoor directions.

Ah, what was it that Janus had said? Stick to the left wall and as long as the maze itself doesn't change, that even if it takes longer, eventually you'll find the exit. Or in this case, the center.

Roman walked along the left hedge wall with his hand running along it for a minute before a sudden pain blossomed between his first finger and thumb.

"Ah!" Roman frowned at the bleeding cut. While he was proficient in some kinds of magic, healing magic was certainly not his forte.

Roman pulled out his red handkerchief and wrapped it around the wound —he could always deal with it later, right now he needed to check on Patton—, and continued walking.

It was several minutes before he came out into the large, open garden that was nicknamed 'The Jewel Of The Maze'.

The fireflies glittered about, echoing the stars above as both were reflected in the water of the large fountain in the very center of the garden.

Patton and Logan sat side by side on a bench that faced the fountain and it sounded like they were talking quietly but any conversation died down as Roman approached them.

Logan inclined his head towards Roman. "Greetings."

"Hello, Logan. Hello, Patton."

Patton didn't say anything, just looked at his twisting fingers in his lap.

Roman walked closer and sat on the edge of the fountain wall directly in front of Patton and Logan. "I'm sorry, Patton."

"...What for? I'm the one who ran away for no reason."

"It didn't seem like no reason to me."

"He's right, Patton. You were overwhelmed and needed a break. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I completely understand getting overwhelmed, we may have gone a bit overboard with the guest list." Roman huffed. "Actually, I'd disappear from parties and events frequently. Fortunately, Janus is good at keeping a crowd entertained, and sometimes even from noticing key guests' absences or at the very least explaining where they've gone that's an acceptable excuse for the public. So take all the time you need."

"Okay, thank you."

"Of course. Really that was bad planning on my part, but I'll do better next time."

"Still, I should've been able to handle it."

"I don't see how you healthily could've," Logan said not unkindly. "I presume it was your first event of that magnitude?"

"...Yeah."

"Also, it was a lot of people and noise, and a lot of focus on you. You'd never been to an event like that before, so it's quite understandable that you needed a break. You handled it quite well, and I'm glad you recognised that you needed to leave and then did so before you were really overwhelmed and possibly had an anxiety attack or began crying. You did well under the circumstances."

"Oh, I— thanks, Logan."

Logan gave Patton a small smile. "You're welcome."

Patton looked back at Roman before saying, "Oh! What happened to your hand?"

Roman looked down at his handkerchief-wrapped hand to see if maybe he'd bled through it, but he hadn't. "Ah, I cut it on a branch in the maze."

Patton frowned before standing up and walking over. "May I see it please?"

"I… suppose so?"

Patton carefully unwrapped Roman's hand and examined it, turning it this way and that. "Hmm."

A little ball of floating light appaired a few feet above them and Roman belatedly realised that Patton must've summoned it with his magic.

"So, what's the diagnosis, physician?" Roman joked.

"Oh, it's just a small cut, the blood around it just makes it seem bigger than it is, but we don't want it to get sick so—"

"Sick?" Logan asked.

"Yeah, when it's all extra painful, and it's all pink."

"Ah, there's a word for that: infection. So it'd be 'we don't want it to get infected'."

"Oh, okay. You're so smart, Logan!"

Logan smiled softly. "Thank you."

"You don't have to worry about me, Patton. I'll take it to Emile in a bit."

"Yeah, you could. Or… well, I could just heal it."

"You can do that?"

"Yeah, isn't… isn't it the easiest kind of magic?"

Roman smiled. "Well, it depends. Magicians tend to have a category or two of magic that comes easier to them. Healing magic is pretty much impossible for me, but it could certainly be the kind of magic that you excel in."

"Oh, that's cool. Um, is it okay if I heal it?"

"If you want to. I really don't mind taking it to Emile though."

"Okie dokie." Patton focused on the wound and raised his hand just above it.

Roman blinked and the cut was gone, even the blood that'd been drying around it had vanished. "Exemplary!" He flexed his hand experimentally. It didn't even ache.

"That was most impressive," Logan complimented.

"Oh." Patton beamed under their praise. "Thanks."

Roman patted the fountain wall next to him and Patton sat down next to him.

"What other types of magic do you know?" Logan asked.

"Well, I…" Patton's shoulders drooped a bit. "Um, I guess I can sustain fire magic for hours at a time, I don't really like to though."

"Ah, of course. Apologies, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's okay!" Patton winced. "Ach, wait, sorry. Sometimes I just interrupt without thinking."

Roman assured, "It's alright, Patton. We know it wasn't on purpose. You were just trying to assure Logan."

"Yeah."

"Oh, hey, Patton? Would you like for me to show some more magic?"

Patton's eyes widened. "Really?! Uh, I mean… if you want to, I'd really like that."

"I want to. Here, hold your hand out like this." Roman held his palm out towards the starry sky and Patton copied him. Roman pushed a bit of his magic to the center of his hand and up, forming a red butterfly.

"Oh! Cool! Can I try?"

"Of course! There's some magic that might be a bit more tricky or even dangerous that you wouldn't want to do without the proper precautions, but a simple energy construct

is perfectly harmless."

"Okay." Patton focused on his hand and after a few seconds a small, sky-blue butterfly appeared, it was slightly translucent and quite sparkly as beginner magicians' constructs tended to be. Patton gasped excitedly. "I did it!"

"You sure did!"

"Hm, that's interesting," Logan said absentmindedly.

"What's interesting?"

"Ah, just that your magic is red which seems to be at least one of your favourite colours, and Patton's is a light blue which is his. In addition, I've seen Janus' magic glow yellow which seems to be his as it's the only colour other than black that he wears."

"Very astute observation, Logan. When making constructs with one's magic it's the favourite colour of the person… well, or at least one they like a lot. Not everyone necessarily only has one favourite colour. But anyway, you're right. Another magician you know would be Remus, his favourite colour is green, hence why he wears it a lot."

"That's coo—" Patton lost concentration and the butterfly disappeared. "Oops, sorry." He put his hand down again.

"It's alright. It's easy to do! I was impressed that you held it as long as you did, and especially after you'd made the butterfly on the first try after having only seen me do it once." Roman dropped his hand and his butterfly vanished as well. "Do you think you're ready to go back to the party, or shall we call it a night and go to bed?"

"Um…"

"Either is a perfectly acceptable option."

"Okay… I think I wanna try the party again. I'm a bit more ready since I know what to expect this time."

"Alright. Oh, I do want to apologise again for not preparing you properly. I should've warned you better and tried to do something to make it not as overwhelming. Like for one thing, the guest list was far too long. I should've kept it smaller."

"Well… it is what it is. It's easy to say 'oh I should've done this or that' but you didn't know then what you know now."

"That's very true, Patton."

"You're quite emotionally intelligent."

"Thanks, Logan."

"What about a background blocker? I don't know how to do it, but I know that Janus does."

"Hmm, what does it do exactly?"

"It just muffles the background noise so that it's not as overwhelming. You can still have conversations and notice if someone's yelling for whatever reason, but other people's chatter isn't as loud."

"That sounds good… oh, well, as long as it's not too difficult."

"I don't think it would be for him, but we can ask." Roman turned to Logan. "Did you want to go with us, Logan?"

"Sure. I might retire a bit early though, I'd like to finish my book on Sir Charles the third before I sleep."

"Sounds good." Roman stood up, Patton and Logan following him to an opening into the maze. "Uh… you wouldn't happen to know the way, would you Logan?"

"No, sire."

"Hmm…"

"I think I do," Patton piped up. "I knew which way to go before getting here."

"Ah, your intuition magic must've kicked in— Wait, then how did Logan get through it?"

"I followed Patton."

"Well, then." Roman bowed with one hand on his chest and the other one out, gesturing to the opening in the maze. "After you, oh great guide."

"Patton!" Roman cried out, feeling his blood go cold and stomach drop as Patton collapsed.

Janus was only just able to catch Patton before he fell to the stone floor.

Roman rushed over. "Is he okay?"

"...Yes, for now. He's breathing and his pulse is a bit erratic, yet somehow slow, but it's there."

Virgil all but ran up, eyes darting around in suspicion. "Give him here, we need to get him to Emile. Remy! Damnit, where are yo—"

"Here! Right here." Remy's usual smirk was nowhere to be found, a serious and focused look on his face instead.

"Okay, lock it down. I'm taking Patton to the infirmary."

"Yes, sir."

Logan smelled the cup that Patton had been drinking from and frowned. "Mr. Hierophant, would you please come smell this?"

Janus carefully tucked Patton in Virgil's arms before taking the goblet from Logan, and after smelling it, his expression also soured. "It's poisoned."

"That's what it seemed like to me as well."

Roman glanced around the dining hall before he bit his lip momentarily and said, "Okay. Janus, can you help the guards lock everything down? You're so much better with smoothing things over."

"Of course. Logan, come with me."

"Yes, sire."

Roman was just about to rush after Patton but quickly turned back to Janus. "Oh, wait, give me the goblet. I'll take it with me for Emile to identify."

…

This was all Roman's fault.

Who would poison Patton? He was just a kid, and an extremely sweet one at that.

Had that cup been intended for Roman? Or had someone just wanted to get at Roman by poisoning his ward?

Roman sighed and looked over at the unconscious Patton, wishing he was just sleeping instead.

Emile was currently in his office examining the poison and Roman just hoped he could make a cure from it.

It'd only been a short while since he'd arrived in the infirmary, but Roman's worry seemed to stretch the time far, far longer.

Eventually, Emile came out of his office, a solemn frown on his face.

Roman rushed to stand, almost knocking his chair over in the process. "What news have you?"

"Well, it's curable."

"That's—" Roman cut himself off. "I'm sensing a 'but'."

Emile nodded as he pushed up his glasses. "But the cure is quite a ways away."

"Of course it is," Roman said bitterly. "Where and how far away exactly?"

"The cure can be made from the flowers of the moondrop plant, but the dragon witch hordes all the known plants."

"Right. Will…" Roman gently looked at Patton. "Will you stay with him while I hold council?"

"Of course, Roman. I won't leave this room."

"Alright. Thank you, Emile."

…

Roman sat in the smaller of his two council rooms, around a round table with Virgil and Janus on his left and right respectively. Remus' and Emile's chairs stood empty as Remus was out of town and Emile was with Patton. Logan stood behind Janus' chair.

"Logan, you may as well sit in Emile's chair as he's watching over Patton under my request."

"Yes, sire." Logan sat down on Janus' other side.

"How is he?" Virgil asked.

"Emile's got him stable enough for now, but he needs the cure sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, the dragon witch is the only known person who has moondrops."

Janus pursed his lips. "Ah, that's at least a two-day journey. I'd like permission to be the one to get it."

"Granted."

"Sire, if I may." Logan adjusted his glasses.

"Of course, Logan. What is it?"

"I'd like permission to go as well."

"You're still rather young…" Roman thought back to all the adventures he and Remus had gone on when they were Logan's age and even younger. "But you've proven yourself quite adaptive, smart, and your self-defence fighting has come a long way. So, I will let Janus decide whether or not you'll go as he's the one leading this mission."

Janus nodded before he turned to Logan and considered him for a moment. "Alright. You may come, but if it gets too dangerous I want you to hide, and if you feel in over your head you tell me immediately. Those are my terms."

"Thank you. I accept your terms, sir."

Roman nodded once. "Good, now that we have that settled…" He turned to Virgil. "Virgil, do we know who's responsible for this disgusting act?"

"I believe so, yes. One Sir Richard Huxley."

His magic and anger burned in his stomach as Roman tried not to outright demand, "Why would be want to poison Patton? Is he planning a larger attack and this is just the start?"

"We suspect that the poisoned goblet was intended for you but got mixed up and Patton got it instead. I don't think he had a plan beyond this, but the castle is still on high alert in case anyone affiliated with him or opportunists want to try anything. Remy's talking with him right now, so we'll see what he can get out of him in regards to his plans."

Roman exhaled, letting some of the anger and tension leave his body. It wouldn't help Patton if his mind was clouded with anger. "Alright. Janus, Logan, start preparing for your departure as soon as possible, and may Osha guide you." Roman turned to Virgil. "Keep me informed, Virgil. I want to know as soon as you have more information. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the infirmary." The 'with Patton' went unsaid, but still was present as if it had been.

…

Roman was exhausted, a weariness settled deep into his bones, but he wouldn't, couldn't go to bed. He… he needed to be there in case something happened. It just didn't feel right to leave Patton here, even if the first mate of the guard, Remy, was standing watch just outside the infirmary doors.

Emile had long since gone to bed, but perhaps he could stay with Patton for a few hours the next morning while Roman got a bit of rest.

Roman sighed as he scrubbed his face with his hands.

He'd only do that if he really needed to. Sure, Emile would be here anyway, and Roman trusted Emile with his life —and had on several occasions before— but he couldn't help but feel that something bad would happen if he left Patton's side.

He just… needed to be here.

The door opened, startling Roman. All sleepiness left him as his senses went sharp and alert. His sword wasn't quite in arm's reach but it could be in a sec— Roman's shoulders sagged in relief when he saw that it was just Remus.

Remus looked almost a bit sheepish. "Hey, didn't mean to make you jump."

"It's fine."

"Burning the midnight oil, huh?"

"Yeah." Roman looked at Patton's sickly pale face, guilt twisting in his gut.

What was the point of all his wealth and power if he couldn't prevent someone under his care from getting poisoned?

Roman looked back at Remus. "Didn't know you were back."

"Yeah, got the messenger fox and hightailed it back. Knew you'd need me here."

"Thanks." Roman pulled the blanket a bit higher on Patton.

Remus hummed before dragging a chair over by Roman's, not caring in the slightest as it made a screeching noise against the stone floor.

Roman huffed almost lightly. "You know how much Emile doesn't like it when you do that."

Remus smirked. "Why do you think I do it?"

Roman shook his head fondly. "He's going to make you remove the gouges and marks again."

"Well, that's just fine. 'S not like I'm gonna run out of magic."

Roman looked away to hide his small smile, but it easily fell when he saw Patton.

"He's gonna get better," Remus said, unusually solemn.

"...I hope so."

"He will," Remus assured. "Janny and little Lo are gonna get the moondrop and Emile is gonna make the cure and he's gonna be okay. It'll just take a few days."

"What— what if he doesn't have a few days?"

"Well… I— he's strong, Ro. He'd have to be to survive the initial first wave. Obviously the poison is still in his veins and has attached itself to him, but the first hour is the most critical. Now it's just a matter of waiting 'till Janny gets back."

Roman sighed. "Right, I just— am worried."

"Which is perfectly understandable. I… I am too, but I think that Pat's strong enough. I mean, fuck, he took a big swig of a fatal to adults dose of poison, and has survived the afternoon and evening with a good prospect. What other nine-year-olds can say that?"

Roman hummed. "True. And I… I know that, it's just… hard." He sniffed.

"Aww, hey, he's gonna be okay, you both are. …It's gonna be a rough few days, huh?"

Roman nodded, not trusting his voice.

Remus scooted his chair closer and guided Roman's head onto chaos' shoulder, one arm wrapped around him and the other patting his hair.

"Yeah, just let it all out, Ro-bro. Let that fear and worries out. I'm right here."

Roman nodded and buried his nose into Remus' fabric, taking a shaky breath as he began to cry.

They stayed like that for several minutes as Roman cried his eyes out. He still felt shitty, but a bit better as he finally pulled away and wiped his red-rimmed eyes.

"How ya doin'?" Remus asked, speaking quietly so as not to break the fragile silence.

"...A bit better, I think. It's… I'm still extremely worried."

"Which is okay and to be expected."

"But it's not quite as overwhelming as it was."

"Well, good. Oh!" Remus pulled a brown paper sack out of one of his magically large pockets. "I brought you some food by the way."

"It's not poisoned, is it?" Roman tried to joke but winced as he glanced at Patton. "That was both poor timing and a poor joke."

Remus snorted. "Just my type of humour! But no, I 100% made it myself 'n everything. Not poisoned. Besides, I only poisoned you that one time!"

"It was twice."

"Oh, shit, really? When was the other time? Ohh! Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten about the summersnow moss I'd put in your apple mint pie." Remus shook chaos' head. "Man, that was so long ago."

"Hah, yeah. It sure was."

Remus hummed before handing Roman the brown paper sack. "Anyway, here ya go."

"Thanks." Roman took out the sandwich and had eaten a fourth of it before he realised and tried to slow down a bit.

"I figured you'd probably skipped supper 'cuz of the adrenaline and all the worry, besides, who doesn't love a midnight snack?"

"Strangely enough, Logan."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, he read in a book somewhere that it was bad for you and can cause indigestion if you eat too close to bedtime."

Remus laughed. "Mr. Know-it-all's got it all figured out, huh?"

"Mm, not really."

"Yeah, he's got a lot to learn. I mean, he's already learned so much, and quickly, but he's still got a ways to go. Well, not that learning is ever done… but anyway, there's still a ways 'till he's as ready for adulthood as he can be."

"Hah, true. Is anyone ever actually ready for adulthood? I know we sure weren't."

"Eh, maybe that's just a part of it. Part of learning to be ready for adulthood is the random shit that life throws at you while you're an adult."

"That is… surprisingly insightful of you."

"Well, you know me, full of surprises… and something else."

"Shit and hot air."

"Yep, bingo!"

Roman just rolled his eyes. Remus never got tired of that joke.

Roman finished his sandwich and put the bag on the nightstand near the infirmary bed before smoothing back Patton's hair and sitting down.

"I—" Roman frowned. "Wait, Patton has really great intuition, like, he told Janus that he may say his favourite animal is a snake, but that Patton knew that it was actually a honey badger."

"...Okay?"

"But then why didn't it go off when he was about to drink the poison? Does it not work for danger somehow? Because if that's the case, that'd be quite bad. That's when it'd be the most helpful."

"Oh, hmm… I would think it goes off for danger too, but then why… maybe— hm, yeah maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

"Okay, this may be one of my two good thoughts this year, but… maybe his intuition told him to drink it?"

"What? Why! Remus, that makes absolutely no sense."

"No, no, hear me out! From what I've heard, intuition can be frustratingly vague, but if it told him to take that one, he would, right?"

"...Yeah? I still don't see where you're going with this though."

"Well, maybe it knew that you wouldn't be able to handle that much and that volatile of a poison, but that Patton would. His internal healing powers are the only thing that kept him from death's door, right? Like I said, it would've been a fatal dose for an adult."

"I— you don't really think…" Roman exhaled deeply. "That certainly sounds like Patton. I could see his intuition guiding him to be poisoned to save my life, even if Patton didn't exactly understand all that at the time."

Remus hummed in agreement and they sat there, Roman watching Patton and Remus watching Roman.

"You need sleep," Remus finally said.

"...Yeah. I just— can't leave him, you know? How am I supposed to sleep when he's here, unconscious and sick?"

Remus exhaled before gently saying, "There's not anything you can do for him right now, nothing except take care of yourself."

"I… I should be here with him."

"And you have been, but he'd want you to take care of yourself. How are you gonna be awake enough to talk to him when he wakes after Emile gives him the cure if you haven't gotten much sleep? Sure, you'll accidentally fall asleep at some point, but you need proper rest."

"Well…" Roman blinked tiredly.

"Come on, Ro. I'll stay here all night… and may knock you out with my morning star if you say no," Remus teased in a sing-song tone. "So, let me spend some time with my basically-nephew. Okay?"

Roman's shoulders slumped and he knew that Remus was right. "Okay." Bed did sound particularly good right then, his achy muscles agreeing. "Just… keep him safe, okay?"

Remus nodded solemnly. "Of course, always."

"Alright…" Roman stood up and looked at Patton. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

"See you later! Can't believe you're making me be all responsible and shit," Remus joked.

Roman huffed. "Actually you volunteered— no, worse, threatened me, so it's only on you."

"Darn," Remus said sarcastically.

"Goodnight."

" 'Night!"

Roman walked to the double doors and opened one, slipping through. He looked back at Remus and Patton one last time, smiling softly as Remus began to read a storybook to Patton's sleeping form, and quietly shut the door.

Roman said 'goodnight' to Remy, put a small charm on the doors and went to bed.

It was going to be a long few days.

Roman almost cried in relief when Janus and Logan returned with Patton's cure, and did actually cry a bit when Patton woke up, wiping his damp eyes as he greeted Patton.

"Hey, Pat. How are you feeling?"

"Mm, throat hurts." Patton furrowed his brow and closed his eyes. "Head too."

Roman hadn't even opened his mouth to ask someone to get some water when Janus appeared by his elbow handing him a half-full glass.

Roman helped Patton drink and afterward, to settle back against the pillows. He set the cup on the bedside table in case Patton wanted more later.

There was so much he wanted to say to Patton; he wanted to say how very glad he was that he was okay, he wanted to thank him —and perhaps scold him just a bit— for drinking the poison that was meant for Roman… but instead, he just said, "Glad to see you awake. Um, Emile's making you some tea, by the way. I believe he said that it should help with the headache and sore throat that he figured you'd have. Uh, he also said that he can do some yarrow compresses for any aching muscles, but I'm getting ahead of myself."

Patton nodded before looking around the infirmary room, eyes landing on Janus and Logan who were hanging back to give them some space. "Hi," Patton said tiredly, but clearly glad to see them.

They came a bit closer as Logan said, "Hello, Patton. I'm glad to see that you're awake now."

"Glad to be awake. Is everyone okay?"

"Yes," Janus answered. "Everyone's okay. Virgil and Remy locked things down quickly and found the person who," Roman noticed the briefest hesitation, although he doubted that it was noticeable to the children, "Poisoned you."

"Oh, good. Was he working alone?"

"Fortunately, yes."

"Well, all's well that ends well."

Roman laughed. "I suppose you're right.

…

Patton soon fell asleep after that, but that was to be expected as he desperately needed the rest.

Logan sat on the bed next to Patton, claiming that it was so Patton wouldn't feel alone as he slept, but Roman knew that Logan was also sitting there to assure himself that Patton was indeed okay.

After Logan's eyes started drooping, Janus pulled himself up a chair next to Roman's and by the time he looked up, Logan was laying next to Patton, almost curled around him, and asleep as well.

"He had a big day," Janus murmured.

"Mm, we all did. I'd imagine that your quest was quite strenuous."

"It was, but he was quite remarkable," Janus murmured softly, nothing but pride in his voice.

"I have no doubt."

"I would tell you about it, but I believe he wanted to. It's pretty late though, and we had a long day." Janus gave a short quiet laugh. "Well, we all did. But I highly doubt that he'll wake up anytime soon, so it'll have to be tomorrow."

"Speaking of being late, you should go to sleep."

"So should you," Janus pointed out knowingly.

"Hey, I slept some…"

"I presume under threat by Remus?"

"...Yeah."

"That's what I thought, so now I'm the one threatening you," Janus said, voice light.

"Oh, really? And what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to squeeze you like a python."

"...So you're going to give me a hug? And here I thought it was going to be something I wouldn't like. Maybe I shouldn't go then."

"Okay, while that's an excellent point, you should still sleep."

"As should you. You've been traveling all day."

"And you've been watching over Patton all day. Go to bed."

"I will later. You go."

"I will later. You go," Janus mimicked.

"W—"

The door quietly opened and Virgil peered in before quietly shuffling in and closing the door behind himself. "Hey," Virgil whispered. "What's going on?"

"Roman won't go to sleep," Janus said.

Roman said at the same time, "Janus won't go to sleep."

Virgil huffed and seemed to be repressing a laugh. "Well, it's a good thing that I'm here to watch over Patton then." They glance at Logan's sleeping face. "And Logan now too."

"Oh, thank you."

"Sounds like a compromise to me," Janus said. "See you gents in the morning?"

Virgil gave a two-finger salute. "Of course, Jan."

"Goodnight," Roman said, accidentally sounding wearier than he meant.

Hopefully Patton would be a lot more awake and aware, and on the mend the next day.

…

The next day, Patton was well enough to get around with a cane, as long as someone was with him in case he fell, and if he took a few breaks. Fortunately, there were more than just a few benches throughout the castle, some even with a magnificent view of the surrounding rolling hills and autumn leaves.

It was a nice day and Emile had said that some sunshine would be good for Patton, so Roman decided that it'd be nice if they had a picnic lunch in the courtyard.

After they ate, Logan and Janus told of their quest to get the Moondrop plant for Patton.

"—And then after we'd gone through the tunnels in the mountain," Logan was saying, "There was a large dragon in an even larger cavern. Her scales glittered like silver and gold and smoke curled out of her nose. She seemed quite angry to be disturbed so Janus went into a fighting stance but we hadn't even tried any diplomacy yet. She was just angry because she'd rather be left alone and every so often people will try to fight her for her treasure, but once I explained our situation and that we didn't want to fight or her treasure, we had no problem getting along."

"We have a new ally now," Roman said.

"A new friend," Logan corrected. "She just wants to be left alone for the most part. Malcana —oh, that's her name by the way— said that we could visit though."

"That's really cool, Logan! You're so brave. Were you scared to face the big dragon?" Patton asked.

"Yes, but being brave is doing the right thing despite being scared, and I knew that Janus would get us out of there if it went wrong."

"Well, I'm glad I have your confidence," Janus said, a small and gentle smile on his face.

Roman was so glad that they were all okay, that his… his family was okay. Gratitude filled his heart as he looked from Patton to Logan to Janus.

They were going to be okay.

Roman had never felt such hot rage and betrayal in his life. In fact, the only time he'd ever been anywhere near this mad before was at the person who'd poisoned Patton.

Things had been going well, a little too well, in fact. So, Roman had expected something bad to happen… but this, this went beyond even Virgil's worrying and doomsday scenarios.

Janus, the man who'd been by his side for over a decade, had been playing the long game, and who knows how much longer it would've gone on if a servant that'd worked for Janus' father —before he'd died eleven years prior—, hadn't come forward with the information that Janus' father had instructed Janus to get close to Roman and corrupt or overthrow him.

Roman almost didn't believe it, couldn't really. He'd thought, surely this person was lying, but he couldn't help but wonder… couldn't help but doubt.

So, he'd gone to talk to Janus about it, but it'd quickly gotten out of hand, Roman full-on accusing him of everything he'd heard.

But that hadn't been the worst part, Roman would've felt bad enough if Janus had been offended that he'd even suggested that, but he wasn't, he didn't deny it at all. And that was worse, way worse.

Janus just looked at the ground, something heavy and almost sad in his eyes. "I'm sorry—"

"I don't want your— your bullshit apologies. We've known each other for… fuck, for fourteen years and this entire time, you've been plotting behind my back! I have absolutely no idea to the extent of all the terrible, horrible things you've done, and what was done in my name. I just— I don't even know what to think, what even is the appropriate reaction and punishment for— for this!"

"If I could—"

"No, you can't! Be quiet," Roman growled.

Janus quieted instantly and Roman would've felt bad if Janus hadn't just utterly betrayed him.

Roman rambled on, "After all these years, after I've trusted you for over a decade, only to find that you have betrayed me in this way. Do you know how many times I have stood up for you! What great conquests and burdens I had taken on for you at my own expense! It didn't really seem consequential at the time as I did it out of a place of love, but after…" Roman growled, low and frustrated. "You really are the snake they all claim you to be. Did you even poison Patton just to 'cure' him??"

This got Janus' attention as he jerked his head up. "Of course not—"

"How can I trust that you're telling the truth?! I can't help but wonder if you recruited Logan and forced him to work for you or face staying on the streets to starve to death!"

"No! I care for Logan dearly! Just— just let me explain myself, please!" Janus asked, practically begged, but Roman won't have it.

"I—" Roman sighed deeply. "I'm too angry for this right now, but I'll consider it and… and what you've done later when I've calmed down."

"...Yes, sire."

Roman briefly considered putting Janus in jail, but that'd cause a scene and he really didn't want this to get out unless Roman chose to tell people.

Besides, Janus was such a skilled magician and had been the one to fortify it so there'd really be no point anyway. If he wanted to escape, Roman had no doubt that he could. He just hoped that he'd cooperate.

"I will escort you to your room where there will be a constant guard outside your door, and I'll be very pissed if you leave."

"I wouldn't," Janus said softly, and Roman almost believed him, until he remembered that he'd been lying to Roman since they'd first met years and years ago.

"I should hope you'd know well enough to stay, yes."

Roman opened the door to Janus' study without another word and led Janus through the halls they were both homely familiar with, closely keeping track of him, lest he disappear.

Maybe he shouldn't have put the figurative backstabber in a position where he could be a literal backstabber, but Roman had thought it'd be awkward if he was hearding Janus along from behind, but now he wasn't sure. It was kind of too late anyway, it'd just seem like he had no idea what he was doing if he changed their positions now… although he really didn't know what he was doing, and Janus knew him so well that he no doubt knew that as well.

Roman had thought that he'd known Janus as well… but clearly not.

"...Where are we going?" Janus asked quietly like he knew how volatile Roman was because of course he did.

It was rather disturbing how well Janus knew him, and even more so that Roman had no idea what he knew about Janus. What had been truth and what had just been a fabrication?

"I thought I told you earlier," Roman almost winced at his snappish tone. "You're bound to your quarters."

"That's what I thought. Unless you moved them, my quarters are nowhere near here." Janus was still talking in that annoyingly gentle and careful tone. At least if he had been using his manipulating, honey-sweet voice Roman would feel more justified in being a jerk, but no, Janus had to be considerate sounding.

Maybe that was how he was trying to manipulate Roman? He would be more likely to know how to get on Roman's good side after all. Or maybe that's just how he was talking and Roman was putting stuff on him that wasn't there. It was practically impossible to tell and that really bothered Roman.

"Well… that's because we have a stop first." Roman took stock of where they were, trying to think of something. Oh! The guard's house was near here. Perfect. "I've got to get Virgil or Remy to guard your room."

"Mm, I see. Quick thinking."

Roman almost snapped at him, but he couldn't even tell if Janus was being sarcastic or not so he let it go.

The garrison was reasonably full for the time of early evening when Roman and Janus arrived; the change of the guard was fairly soon after all.

"Oh, hey, how can I help you gents?" Remy said after he took a big sip of his coffee.

"I need to talk to you and Virgil… in your office."

Remy's expression turned serious. "Of course. Cap Virgil's not here right now, he went to go check on the wallies —you know how they think they can get away with more just because they're all the way out on the castle wall—, but I can get someone to go get him if you want."

Roman resisted the urge to sigh. "...No, that's alright. I'll tell you and we can leave a note for when he returns. I just need one of you right now anyway."

They went into the office that Virgil and Remy shared and Remy shut the door behind them.

"Okay, so what's up? Something of national security I presume?"

"Yes, I— I'm not exactly sure how to say this but… Janus has been compromised and will need to subtly be confined to quarters."

Remy's eyebrows raised above his sunglasses. "Janus?"

"Yes."

"Okay, but… Janus? The Janus that's been here longer than I have? The Janus that's been here longer than even Cap Virgil? Your adviser Janus Hierophant? That Janus?"

"Yes," Roman said tightly. "That Janus."

"Unfortunately," Janus muttered and Roman wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear that so he ignored it.

Besides, it was just easier to ignore Janus, lest Roman actually lose his temper and say something he shouldn't.

"...Right, okay." Remy pushed his glasses up his nose and seemed to gather himself. "So, what's the plan exactly?"

"I want either you or Virgil right outside his door at all times. You can split up the time however you'd like, but you two are the only guards I trust for this. No one else is to know about this and if they ask it's for Janus' safety."

Remy scoffed quietly. "Janus is the most powerful sorcerer I know so I don't know how believable that is, but will do."

"Well, just…" Roman sighed. "I don't know. It's just an 'extra level of security' or something. Talk to Virgil about it when he relieves you or at least comes to talk to you later. I'm… I know I'm not the most prepared for this, and I know it shows, but just…"

"Yeah, I get it, your majesty."

"I just never thought—" Roman cut himself off as he realised that Janus was still in the same room. He was good at fading into the background when he wanted to or even on accident when he was quiet. Virgil also had the same… problem? Skill, perhaps? Roman supposed it just depended on what they were using it for.

"Well, if there's nothing else, I've got it from here. I'll leave a note for Cap Virgil then take Janus to his room. Besides, if you don't mind me saying, you look like you could use some rest or at least some time to yourself."

"I— yes. And… thank you."

"Of course, have a good evening, your majesty."

"I really am sorry," Janus murmured as Roman passed by, some emotion in his voice that Roman just couldn't quite get a grasp on.

Roman left with only one glance back, something indescribable in Janus' eyes that made Roman's heart drop and stomach twist at the same time. It was almost soft and quite a bit of hurt, but that didn't quite seem right. Maybe it was best to just leave it at indescribable.

He just… felt so betrayed. He'd really thought that he knew Janus, but now…

But now it was painfully clear that he didn't.

Roman sniffed softly as he walked down the empty halls, trying to focus on the tapestry along the walls instead of the urge to cry that was quickly welling up inside of him.

It was just a lot and… it was certainly something to sleep on.

Despite thinking that he'd sleep on it, he didn't get much sleep.

There had been —and really still was— just so much to think about that it'd been difficult to quiet down his thoughts enough to fall asleep for several hours, and on top of all that he'd woken up early and absolutely exhausted.

Roman allowed himself to lay in bed for longer than he usually did, but eventually, the thoughts in his head were too much, so he got up, got dressed, and went to the throne room.

Virgil was there, frowning at something on a piece of paper before he looked up. "Oh, hey, Roman." He paused for a second, probably considering how he wanted to word his next words. "...Are you wanting a status report?"

"I… sure, yeah. Yes, thank you." Roman sat on the ornate red and gold throne as Virgil approached, stepping up the few steps to the small stage-like platform that the throne was on.

Virgil adjusted his armour before speaking, "Okay, I saw Remy's note and he'd marked the switch-off times so I kept watch from ten to three in the morning. Then Remy took over again and I'll go relieve him at eight. The night was quiet enough, but that's just because Janus chose to stay. To be honest, I highly doubt that we could've stopped him if he'd actually wanted to escape."

"Yeah, I… I kind of knew that. Just felt better with someone I could trust watching him."

"...May I ask what happened?"

"He— he's a traitor to the kingdom. An old servant of Janus' late father came forward with the information just yesterday. I… I'm not really sure what to do," Roman quietly admitted.

"He's not—" Virgil cut himself off with a sigh. "What'd Janus say?"

"Oh, well… I may have been too angry and told him to shut up… yeah. But I'm planning on talking to him tod—"

"I don't think he's guilty!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… I mean, I don't think he's guilty… at least anymore."

"Okay, now I'm even more confused."

"Janus and I knew each other before… before you knew and recruited us."

Roman raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"...Yeah."

"Since when?!"

"Since always? What do you mean 'since when'?"

"I— okay, point taken. But, why didn't either of you tell me?"

"Well… not only was it not relevant, but Janus wanted to keep his background clear, and being a teenager who was put over child soldiers isn't exactly the best job reference when trying to get close to a crowned prince, ya know?"

"Oh, so he… he really was planning this from the beginning."

"Well, no. He didn't. His father on the other hand… okay, listen, Janus' father was a very… let's say controlling man, and if he wanted something to get done, then it would happen, one way or another. So, while that was what Janus had been there to do, and planned on doing for a while, it's not a reflection of who he is today. He doesn't want any harm to come to you, Roman, and has actually prevented you from getting hurt many different times.

"Multiple times now, he's come with me with some threat or plot against you that someone was trying to carry out and we stopped it without you ever knowing.

"Sure, he's cunning and certainly the type who could play out the long game, but not with you. Not anymore. I've known him since we were kids and…

"Anyway, you didn't see him when he decided that he didn't want to try and corrupt or overthrow you anymore. I've never seen him so distraught before. Just— just the amount of remorse… he swore himself to you that day and I was his witness. He cares about you and… and I probably shouldn't tell you this but I'm pretty sure I heard him crying last night."

"...Crying?"

"Yeah, and you know how frequently he does that."

"I've… I've, uh, never seen him cry before."

"Exactly. He just doesn't! But this, possibly losing you, that's striking him to his core." Virgil paused, but as Roman didn't say anything, he continued, "Look, I'm not saying all is forgiven or that this solves everything, but just… talk to him, let him talk, and hear him out. Maybe he's changed, okay? Just don't lose him because of your pride."

Roman nodded, something heavy in his stomach. "Alright. I… I'll talk to him."

"That's all I ask. Just let him explain."

"Right. My anger has settled considerably since yesterday and with everything you've said… well, there's a lot to consider."

…

Roman was walking through the castle halls aimlessly, considering Virgil's words when Patton and Logan approached him.

Logan's brow was furrowed as he said, "Apologies for bothering you, sire, but Janus wasn't at breakfast and when we went to go see him," Logan looked around to check that no one was there, "Sir Remy said he couldn't let us in as Janus needed extra security. Is there a threat? And is there anything we can do to assist you?"

"Oh, that. Um…"

"I don't want him to get hurt like I did," Patton said softly. "So if there's something we can do to help…"

"That's really sweet of you both, but I can't really think of an— oh, well…" Roman glanced around before continuing, "There is one thing. Has either of you seen anything suspicious? Or like, has anyone made you uncomfortable?"

"Nope." Patton shook his head for emphasis.

"What kind of suspicious?" Logan asked, instantly attentive.

"Oh, just like, I don't know, someone lurking around, or looking like they're not supposed to be there." Those wouldn't apply to Janus but Roman was pretending that it wasn't him. Plus, it's not like it was bad things to ask about in general. He had full confidence in Virgil's security, but it didn't hurt to check. "Or maybe someone telling you not to tell anyone about something they did or said. Just, that type of thing."

"Hmm, I haven't seen anyone who fits that description, but I'll keep an eye out."

"Right, well, I just wanted to check, but…" Roman made a split-second decision. "We believe the danger's actually over now, so I just wanted to make sure that no one had said or done anything like that, or maybe even bribed you. Just stuff like that."

"Ah, well, no one's bribed me—"

"Same," Patton interjected.

"But even if they did I would've let you or Janus kn… oh."

Roman winced as the revelation dawned on Logan's face. Logan was very smart and had clearly put two and two together. Roman just hoped that he would be sensible enough not to discuss it in front of Patton.

"I see, well… have a good visit with Janus, and I'm glad the danger passed."

It was rather amazing that he even had deduced that in the first place. Janus was definitely the person that Logan trusted the most, so to even think that he had been the danger…

"Yes, I am as well. Virgil was a big help to the investigation."

"Ah, sir Virgil is quite good at his job."

"Yeah, he's super cool!" Patton agreed.

"Well, I will let you go let Janus know that the danger has passed. Patton and I might go read some then. He's been learning at a good rate."

"Yeah! Yesterday I recognized the word strawberry!"

"Oh, well, good job, Patton! And thank you, Logan, for helping Janus teach him to read."

"Of course. Have a good rest of your morning."

"You two as well."

"Bye!" Patton waved as they left and Roman waved in return.

…

"Good morning, Remy," Roman greeted as he stopped outside Janus' door.

"Good morning. How's… it going?"

"Good, really good actually. The danger's passed."

Roman could see it in Remy's eyes and his shoulders as his relief washed over him. "Oh, good. I'm glad. I presume I can…" Remy pointed with his thumb down the hallway.

"Oh, yes. Yeah, have a good day, Remy, and thank you for keeping an eye on things."

"Of course! Have a good one."

After Remy left, Roman took a deep breath and opened Janus' door.

Janus set his book down and quickly stood, but didn't say anything.

Roman shut the door behind himself and walked into the room, still allowing Janus space though.

"So…" Roman started, but faded out as he wasn't sure where to go from there.

"So?" Janus asked, worry evident in his tone.

"So, I'm not so mad and am ready to talk. Virgil filled me in on some stuff, but I'd still like to hear some of it from you."

"Alright. What do you want to know?"

"Well…" Questions swirled in Roman's head, so he decided to start on an easier one. "How did you meet Virgil?"

"Virgil was a child soldier and I was over his unit, but before that, I was in the nanny ward taking care of children not even half my age. I've known Virgil since he was little. Literally."

"Oh… um, what was your relationship with your father?"

Janus' expression went sour. "That scumbag? I tried to do everything he wanted, including… trying to get close to you to kill, overthrow, or manipulate you, but I realised… I didn't have to do that anymore. There were other people out there who cared about people. Up until then, Virgil was the only person who wasn't an utter dick. But you showed me that people can be good. However, I couldn't quite find it in me to defy my father, so I didn't— couldn't do anything while he was alive.

"Fortunately, he'd had a lot of enemies and was assassinated soon enough. So after he died and I was free, I asked for time to better myself before becoming your advisor, and I did, by dismantling the child army and finding either their families if they were forcibly taken, or good orphanages if their parents had given them up for misbehaving or a price."

"Wait, that was you! You did that?"

A bit of the tension fell from Janus' shoulders. "Yes, but I didn't want the publicity, and especially not on the traumatised kids, so I kept it to myself. I think Virgil suspects though."

So far, Janus' story matched up with Virgil's in all the important ways… but he had to be sure that Janus had changed.

"Are you a danger to me, the kingdom, or the kids?"

"Well, of course I'd say I'm not, but since you're not sure you can trust me, that doesn't do much good, so… I'm afraid only you can answer that question."

Damn, Janus was —as usual— right.

Roman stepped closer and stared into Janus' eyes, one light brown and one dark brown eye staring back. "I'd like to hear your answer anyway. Are you a danger?"

"No." There was fear hidden in some deep part of Janus' eyes, but Roman could tell that it wasn't a fear of being caught for lying, it was a fear of loss, of losing Logan and Patton, of losing Roman.

"Okay."

A bit of hope flittered in. "Okay?"

"Okay," Roman confirmed. "I believe you. It may take a bit to be able to fully trust you again, but… I believe you."

Janus let out a shaky breath, relief and disbelief evident as he all but collapsed into his singular armchair by the fireplace. "I understand it'll take time, but I thank you for the opportunity to prove myself to you again."

"And I'm… glad you want to. I'd… I'd be lost without you, Janus."

"I'd be lost without you as well, my king," Janus softly admitted.

Roman smiled to himself, full of pride, as he looked out the carriage window and recalled the events that'd taken place that day.

Logan and Patton had started a program together to help kids in situations like the ones they'd come from. It'd been in place for a month now —and about as much time since Roman had started trusting Janus again—, and once a week they would go to check on the progress in person.

Everything was going well in the program and Roman couldn't be prouder of Logan and Patton for their work in it. He'd seen how much work and effort they'd put into it, even if he'd only just seen the work they did from the castle.

This was Roman's first time going with them as he was usually too busy when they went to check on everything and help with things in person. Instead, Janus would take them, but this week, Roman had a lighter load and worked a bit harder yesterday to have the entire day free.

There was one week where Remus had taken them when Janus had too many meetings and not enough time, but that had gone about as well as Roman would've expected, especially as Remus didn't have Virgil with him and hadn't told Roman that he was taking them beforehand. Roman was ninety-five percent sure that Remus taught them several different ways to commit arson that day.

"King Roman?"

Roman blinked out of his thoughts and looked over. "Yes, Logan?"

"We're here."

Roman glanced out of the window before smiling. "Ah, so we are!"

They could've made the trip back to the castle that day, but they'd spent all day working and were already tired enough as it was, so Janus suggested that they stop at the inn in town for the evening.

Janus and Logan went inside to check in while Roman and Patton grabbed their bags. Roman hadn't exactly expected not to get home that day, but he was always prepared and had a few changes of clothes for everyone.

"Wait, did you hear that?"

Roman paused. "...No?"

"Hmm." Patton put his bag back and took off to the alleyway next to The Crumbling Knight Inn.

"Pat— and he's gone." Roman sighed and hastily copied Patton.

Patton was sitting rather far into the alley and was looking intently at some sort of animal across the alley from him.

"Oh, you found a dog," Roman murmured as he quietly walked back and peered around the alley corner.

The muddy dog carefully crept towards Patton and sniffed his outstretched hand before allowing him to pet her.

"Aww, aren't you sweet!" Patton cooed as he glanced at Roman with fleeting, pleading eyes.

…Roman guessed they may very well have a dog soon.

Roman stepped around the corner and the dog eyed him suspiciously.

"She said she has no family. Can we keep her?"

"...The dog said that?"

"Well, not exactly 'said'… but I know what she means."

"I— alright, if you'll help take care of her, then sure. You absolutely may."

"Oh, I will! I'll take very good care of her!"

"Then we should give her some water and a snack and start a bath, then we can give her some more food if the other stays down."

"...She says she doesn't like baths, but she hates being covered in dried mud more, so she'll allow it this one time. Also, I think the promise of food helped."

"Well, then we only need to convince Janus and bribe the innkeeper."

…

As it turned out, the innkeeper needed more convincing than Janus, but after the extra money was laid down and Patton gave puppy dog eyes and even promised to clean up after the dog, she agreed.

All four of them sat at one of the tables in the inn's dining room, and the dog sat next to Patton —albeit on the floor, much to Patton's disappointment—.

"I'm very glad your program is going well, Logan and Patton," Roman said after they'd eaten most of their food.

"Thank you. I was quite pleased with the progress as well."

"Yeah!" Patton exclaimed as he took the last biscuit from the now empty basket. "It's already helped quite a few kids." He took a big bite and rested his hand against his thigh before gasping. "Hey! That was my biscuit!"

The dog didn't pay Patton any mind though as she wolfed it down.

Janus pursed his lips ever so slightly and Roman instantly recognised that he was trying not to laugh. He seemed to recover quickly though and kindly said, "Here, Patton. I didn't end up eating my biscuit so you may have it."

"Oh, thanks! I'll be sure to hold it over my plate this time."

"Probably wise."

"...Oh hey! I know what we should name her now."

Roman raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Biscuit!"

"That does seem like a logical enough name for a dog," Logan agreed.

"...She says that's a good name, especially if she gets more biscuits sometime."

Roman laughed. "Well, we'll have to see about that."

Roman never would've been able to imagine that it was possible to care for so many people this much. His brother, Remus; Captain of the guard, Virgil; Logan Hierophant; Roman's ward, Patton; and Roman's adviser, Janus.

His care for them seemed to only be multiplying every day, and Roman was quite content to let it.

But lately his care for Janus was almost… changing? Not diminishing in any way, just… it was a bit different now.

Roman got up from the desk in his room and began pacing.

He wanted to be more physical with Janus for one thing, and while he liked some physical affection in general, this still felt different. He wanted to be near Janus more than he'd ever thought about. There was just something in Roman that pulled him to Janus.

He wanted to hold Janus' hand, to hug him, and to… wake up next to each other?

He… he wanted to run his fingers through Janus' long, beautiful hair, to brush and braid his golden hair. Wanted to cup his cheek and lean in and—

Kiss Janus??

Oh.

Oh, wow. How had Roman not seen that before, hadn't seen that coming?

Roman sat down on his bed, legs feeling almost shaky under him as he laid back.

But now that he thought about it… it almost made sense.

Sure, one could think that one's friends were pretty, and one could want to be physically affectionate with them, but there was some feeling in Roman's gut that told him that this was different, something that told him that it wasn't strictly platonic.

…Now what?

Roman sat up.

Did he want to tell Janus? Or maybe wait?

He wasn't sure what he'd be waiting on but he also didn't want to just rush into anything. How was he supposed to know what to do? He'd never been… been in love before.

Roman almost rolled his eyes at how obvious it was. Who did he know that would have some experience with romance? Remus and Virgil, of course. They were married after all.

Roman found Remus and Virgil quick enough, both relaxing in their shared quarters as they cuddled on one of their couches.

"Hey, Ro-bro! Wanna come on in and tell us what's on your mind?"

Roman shut the door behind himself. "That obvious, huh?"

Remus rolled chaos' eyes. "Of course. There's clearly something on your mind, so what has your brain going in circles?"

"Yeah, we're here to listen and help if we can," Virgil agreed.

"Well…" Roman sat down on the couch opposite Remus and Virgil. "I realised that I may… like Janus romantically?"

Remus snorted loudly as Virgil pursed his lips, probably to not do what Remus did.

"Did you only just learn that?" Remus asked, voice full of amusement.

Roman huffed. "Yes. Was it that obvious?"

"Oh, definitely. I thought you were just taking your sweet time asking him, but you didn't… man, talk about King Oblivious."

Roman huffed, pretending to be offended. "Wow, if I'd known that I'd just get insulted for my trouble—"

Virgil laughed. "No, we'll— well, I'll help at least. No guarantee for Remus though."

"Hey! I can be helpful too!"

"Sure."

"I— okay fair." Remus looked back at Roman. "So, what's the problem exactly?"

"Well, I think I'd like to tell him, but like…"

"You don't wanna fuck it up?"

"I wouldn't put it quite like that, but yes. I just— I really care about him and in one way it wasn't really all that long ago that I thought I might… might lose him. I just don't want to worry about possibly losing him again."

"I really don't think you'll lose him," Virgil said. "I…" They hesitated. "Even if he didn't like you back, he's not one for abandoning his friends."

Roman sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I'm just… nervous I guess."

Remus seemed to be taking this more seriously now. "Yeah, that's understandable. I was super nervous about asking Virgil, and waited so long that he ended up asking me." Remus laughed. "And he was probably more nervous than I was!"

"Oh, definitely. I was so anxious that I almost threw up."

…

After a bit more assurance from Virgil and some —light-hearted— badgering from Remus, Roman decided that he'd tell Janus soon, but especially as he'd only discovered his romantic feelings that day, he would give it some thought as to how he would ask Janus out.

Maybe he could do a big gesture first? Like a picnic perhaps? No, it was winter and far too cold.

Should Roman just tell him? There wasn't much romance in that though… but maybe he was just overcomplicating things?

Roman's nerves had only doubled and he was still no closer to figuring out how to ask Janus out.

Roman sighed as he wandered through the hallways, lost in thought.

What if he got so worked up that he got too nervous to ask Janus at all? Maybe… maybe he should just ask now before his brain blew it out of proportion.

Before Roman quite realised what he was doing, he was walking towards Janus' room.

Roman took a deep breath and knocked on the door before he could chicken out.

"Come in," Janus called.

Roman opened the door and shut it behind himself. "Hello, Janus."

"Hello, Roman." Janus smiled before putting a bookmark in the book he'd been reading and setting it on the small side table next to the armchair. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Janus gestured Roman over. "I won't bite," He teased.

Roman huffed. "I know that."

"Then why do you look so nervous?" Janus raised an eyebrow.

Roman stopped by Janus' chair and almost wished that he'd thought to wear his regal attire or at the very least his crown. He really needed the confidence.

"Just… am?" Roman tried.

"Right," Janus said sarcastically, clearly not believing him. He seemed to realise how put upon Roman felt though as he suggested, "Why don't you sit down?"

"But there's not— oh!" Roman did his best not to squeak as a warm arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him down into Janus' lap.

"There, now you're closer to the fire. You're cold, you need to keep warm."

"I—" Roman was quite sure his cheeks were flushing. "Right, um. Yeah."

Fortunately, the chair was large enough for both of them, Roman sitting sideways in between Janus' legs with the backs of his knees on the armrest, feet dangling over the side. Janus' arm was still around Roman's waist, fingers splayed over his stomach.

Roman wasn't really sure where to put his arm that was closer to Janus, and since it was a bit too late to put it in between himself and Janus as Janus had already pulled them pretty close together, Roman decided to put his arm around Janus' shoulders.

Janus laid his hand that was not wrapped around Roman on Roman's knee. "So, how'd you sleep last night?"

"Uh, pretty good. What about you?"

"...I should've expected you to ask me back."

Roman laughed. "I mean, that's kind of how small talk works usually."

"Hah, fair enough." Janus stared at the fire and Roman finally saw that it wasn't just shadow from the flame under Janus' eyes making him look tired. His shoulders were a bit heavy looking as well.

"So, how'd you really sleep?" Roman finally asked.

"Well, not very well. I don't know why. It's not like there was really anything to affect or disturb my sleep like that… anyway, I'll just try to get better rest tonight."

"Well, why don't you just take a nap?"

"Hmm, I might. I usually struggle with falling asleep in the middle of the day when… anyway."

"When what?"

Janus sighed. "When I'm alone. I used to have people near when I was in charge of… the nanny ward and then later with the… well, not really soldiers, but the point is I never slept alone growing up. It doesn't really matter though, I'll just wait until—"

"I'll sleep with you!"

Janus coughed. "What?"

Roman felt his face warm as he shifted awkwardly, but that just made it worse as it just reminded Roman just how much they were touching. "Okay, that sounded… but what I meant was we could… take a nap together?" Oh, dramdach, that didn't sound much better.

"I— yes. That… yes."

Roman didn't think he'd ever seen Janus so not put together. Maybe his sleep problem had been going on for longer than he'd said.

Roman didn't have any more time to ponder such things, however, as Janus moved his hand from on top of his knees to under, and his other hand to support the rest of Roman as he stood and carried Roman over to Janus' bed.

Janus set the still stunned Roman down. "Well?"

"Uh, well what?" Since when was Janus so strong??

Janus huffed in amusement. "Are you going to scoot over so I can get in as well?"

"Huh, oh! Oh, yeah." Roman moved over as Janus slid in next to him and pulled the blankets over them.

"Here, you can scoot a bit closer. It's pretty chilly today and the bed's rather cold."

Despite the warmth in Roman's face, the bed was indeed cold.

"Okay," Roman murmured as he shuffled closer, choosing to sleep on his side.

Janus was behind Roman as he'd hoped that he'd be less awkward, but Janus must've also been on his side as threw an arm over Roman's waist and buried his nose in Roman's shoulder.

Well, this was certainly different than what Roman had expected when he'd gone to Janus to tell him that he loved Janus. He hadn't even gotten that far before Janus was sharing a bed with him.

Life was weird sometimes.

…

Roman woke up warm so he hummed and snugged even closer to the warmth before frowning. Wait, what was warm?

Roman's eyes flew open and he realised that he was sleeping on… on Janus' chest! He scrambled back and tried to sit up.

"Well, good evening. Where are you going in such a hurry?" Janus asked, lazily watching him from where he was half sitting up against the headboard.

"Oh, I— I was— just… surprised, that's all."

"Fair enough. I'm sure it'd be a bit surprising to wake up next to —or rather on, in this case— someone when you're not used to it."

"But you are? Even now, and even with me?"

Janus considered him for a moment. "Yes."

Roman looked away, not even quite sure why. "Oh."

Janus started at Roman for a moment longer before he broke whatever that was and said, "So, it's about suppertime. How about we go find the whole crew and eat together."

"Yeah, absolutely. That sounds great."

They got out of bed and fixed their bedheads and slightly skewed clothes.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Janus said as he put his hat back on. Roman hadn't even noticed that he'd taken it off. "I had something I wanted to talk to you about earlier."

"Oh?"

Janus' eyes ran over Roman before he looked away. "I— nevermind."

"...Are you sure?"

"Yes. Let's go eat."

…

They all gathered for supper and ate amid chatter and teasing.

"So," Logan began seriously as he set down his fork. "I read about something in the library today and I was wondering if everyone has birthdays or just a select few."

"Oh, everyone does," Janus said. "Some people may choose not to celebrate or may not know what day exactly they were born on —I presume you don't—, but most people celebrate their birthday, or at least know when it is."

A bit of sadness crossed Logan's face. "Ah, I see."

"We could choose a day to be your birthday though," Roman suggested.

"Really? We can do that?"

"Absolutely! We can pick a date and then throw a little party that day to celebrate you."

"What about tomorrow?" Logan asked.

"Well, let's have enough time to at least plan it."

"How about this Saturday?" Janus offered.

Logan considered it for a moment. "...That would be acceptable."

"Good," Janus said before turning to Patton. "And you will, of course, get one as well."

Patton almost dropped his fork in surprise, eyes widening. "What? Really? I get a birthday too?"

"Of course, Patton," Roman assured. "You're no less a part of this family than anyone else."

"Oh."

Roman decided not to dwell on that too much right now. He did, however, make a mental note to himself to be sure that Patton always knew that he was part of the family. "Do you know when your birthday is?"

"...No."

"Well, that's just fine. We can pick a date for or with you sometime after Logan's birthday party, okay?"

"Okay!"

Janus asked Logan, "Would you like to help plan the party, like perhaps after supper, or would you rather it be a surprise and we plan it for you?"

"I'd like to be involved with the planning, please. I'm not very fond of surprises."

"That's understandable," Remus said around a mouth full of food. "One time I tried to throw a surprise party and Roman screamed!"

"In my defense, you jumped out of nowhere with what looked like a mound of some weird red stuff! It looked bloody!"

"Okay, listen, it's not my fault I don't know how to bake!"

Today definitely hadn't gone how Roman had expected but, all in all, it was —albeit weird— still a good day.

Today was Logan's new birthday and as excited as Logan seemed to be, he also was at least that much nervous, stressing over every little detail and clearly tense and on edge.

"No, a bit lower… now to the left… not that left, go to the right a bit. That's too high, can you—"

"Logan, I don't think we'll get this exactly right at this rate," Janus said a bit exasperatedly.

"...Oh, right. Apologies, right there is adequate… well, maybe just a bit to the—"

"Logan!"

"Oh, right, right."

"Why don't you use magic to get it just right?" Patton asked.

"... Because we didn't think of that," Janus admitted.

"That's a really good idea," Roman praised.

Janus let go of his side of the banner and it stayed in place with a bit of gold glittering around it; a sign of his magic. He gestured for Roman to do the same thing and he did, his side also staying with the same golden glitter.

They both climbed down their respective ladders, and Janus made rulers out of his magic on each of the four sides of the banner to get it perfectly centered. Finally it was secured, and Janus went back to blowing up balloons with his magic, some dark blue sparkly confetti in each one.

"I've got the cake!" Virgil exclaimed as he entered the event hall.

"And I've got the ice cream! …Mostly because Virgil doesn't trust me with the cake."

"I saw the flips you were doing with the ice cream bucket!" Virgil and Remus set their loads down on the table.

"Well, obviously I wouldn't've done that with the cake!"

"Well, it's hard to know with you.“

Remus huffed as chaos made a cold bubble around the ice cream so it wouldn't melt, but conceited, "...Okay, that's fair."

Roman walked over to Logan. "Hey, you seem a bit stressed. I know that this is a lot, but it doesn't have to be perfect, okay? We want you to have fun, not be stressed out of your mind."

"Ah, yes. You're right, of course. I just… want this to go well. I'm afraid I've rather so-called 'built' it up in my mind to be this big important thing, so I'm worried about it not going perfectly."

"Oh, I know what you mean. I've definitely done that before. Trying to get every little detail perfect, even when I wasn't sure what getting it perfect would look like. It's called 'perfectionism'."

"Oh, there's a name for that? I didn't realise it was such a common thing."

"Yes, but there's ways to help with it, like letting yourself know that it's okay to make mistakes, or that it doesn't have to be absolutely perfect. It's not going to be perfect but that's okay! I know letting it go is easier said than done, but just know that I'm here for you, Logan."

"Thanks, I appreciate it. I just… I suppose I just want to be good enough. I've been given such a wonderful opportunity here and I don't want anyone to think that I'm squandering it." Logan dropped his voice, "I just don't want you to regret letting Janus take me in."

"Oh, Logan, I don't regret Janus taking you in at all! Short of some very, very bad stuff, I'd never regret that. I'm so glad you're here, and I want you to be here, okay?"

Logan nodded as he seemed to be fighting back tears. "Okay. Thank you."

"Of course. Anytime."

Roman patted Logan's shoulder and they shared a small smile.

…

After Logan was able to relax, things went smoother and Roman was quite sure that he was enjoying everything.

Remus was standing next to Virgil, each had an arm wrapped around the other's waist, and Remus was using his free hand to make a ball of magic that Logan, Patton, and Biscuit were running around, chasing. Occasionally, something would happen —like almost running into each other, or the bundle of magic would jump just out of reach— and Logan and Patton would laugh, Biscuit barking with them.

Roman stood off to the side with Janus, who was watching everyone's antics in amusement.

Roman wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but ever since he'd realised that he liked Janus romantically, there kept being… little things. Roman wasn't even sure what to call them.

While they hadn't shared a bed again after the nap they'd shared, they still were in close proximity more often than ever. Janus would put an arm around Roman's shoulders as he showed Roman something out of his book, or would press their knees together under the dinner table. Just little things like that, things that Roman still couldn't quite get his head around.

Was it just his feelings for Janus misinterpreting things? Or… well, he didn't even dare to hope.

Janus also seemed to be spending more time with Roman, even if he said something about it being a coincidence that they were in the same room. Roman… wasn't sure if he believed Janus.

Despite all that, Roman couldn't help but worry that he'd missed his chance. Sure, he probably hadn't, but his worry didn't seem to care about that.

What if he never told Janus? He knew he'd regret it if he never told him though, he just hoped that if… —when?— he told Janus, that he wouldn't come to regret that too.

He still felt no closer to knowing how or when to tell Janus, but he supposed that he probably wasn't in that much of a rush. The only people Janus talked to outside of their little family, were all in a professional setting, so Roman doubted that Janus would just suddenly have a partner… hopefully he wouldn't anyway.

Remus yanked the ball higher and Patton jumped, trying to catch it, but it bounced off of the tips of his fingers, and he laughed merrily as he slowly drifted down, having used a slow-fall spell that Janus had taught him recently.

Roman heard a gentle laugh from beside him, so he looked over at Janus, whose smile was softer now, sunlight hitting his face just right, and hair sparkling golden in the light.

And before Roman realised, "You're the most beautiful person I've ever had the honour of meeting," Tumbled out of his mouth.

Janus broke his vision away and looked at Roman in shock. "Wh— what?"

Oops. Well, it was out there now. "Oh, well… I wasn't planning on saying this right now, but I really have been meaning to tell you so… I like you."

"...Like romantically?"

"Yes, like… like romantically."

Janus smirked before he stated matter-a-factly,

"About time."

"What?"

"I've been flirting with you for a while now! I was starting to wonder if you'd ever like me back."

"Wait, really?"

Janus nodded. "You're an idiot."

Roman laughed abruptly. "Wow, thanks."

"But you're a very lovable idiot."

"Oh, thanks." Roman's face warmed a bit as Janus stepped a bit closer.

Janus gazed into Roman's eyes and he gazed back, the striking contrast of Janus' eyes all but mesmerising. He cupped Janus' face in his hands, running a thumb across his soft cheek before running his other thumb over Janus' scarred cheek, gently tracing a few of the raised lines.

"You're beautiful," Roman said, voice full of wonder.

"I— you're not so bad yourself."

Roman took a little step forward. "Why, thank you." He let his right hand fall a bit until it rested on Janus' shoulder, and Janus reached up with his left hand to grasp at Roman's sleeve. "I really like you," Roman murmured.

"I really like you as well," Janus said back, voice just as soft.

"So, wh—"

"Hey, Roman!" Patton exclaimed before he stopped next to them.

Roman pulled back from Janus to see a sheepish Patton.

"Oops, sorry. Didn't quite figure out what my intuition was telling me in time."

Roman laughed. "It's alright, what's up?"

Patton held up a light blue balloon that had been folded and twisted into the shape of a dog. "Uncle Remus is making balloon animals!"

"Uncle?"

"Oh, um, well, he and uncle Virgil said it was okay… but I can—"

"No, that's perfectly fine. I was just surprised, that's all."

Patton paused, no doubt seeing if Roman would suddenly change his mind and get mad, but, of course, Roman didn't. "...Okay."

Janus seemed to notice the need for a subject change as he asked, "Do you think he could make me something?"

"Hmm, I think a honey badger would be too complicated, but I bet he could make you a snake!"

"Sounds perfect."

Patton ran off to no doubt ask Remus about the snake.

Janus shook his head fondly. "I'll never understand how children can have so much energy."

"Right! They're so small and yet they just zoom around."

Janus paused before looking back at Roman. "Well, we should probably go see what everyone wants to do next."

"Yeah, that sounds good… can I hold your hand?" Roman blurted out, startling a laugh out of Janus.

"Yes." Janus held his hand out and Roman took it.

Roman wasn't quite sure what this meant for them yet, but it seemed like it would only be for the better.

As they all sang 'happy birthday' to Logan around his birthday cake, Roman couldn't help but wonder at how he'd gotten such an amazing family.

And he couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with them.

~The End~

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transfemlogan · 2 years ago

Text

Last Friday Night (Think We Kissed, but I Forgot!)

Chapter 1: Wrath

Ao3 | next chapter

Words: 4020

Warning/s: chemical fire, slight ableism towards autistic people, NSFW moments from remus being remus

Fic Summary: written for @intrulogicalweek “The experiment is starting now and I need you to get the cool powders, because if I do it then Mr. Sanders is going to remember he has to send me to the deans’,” Remus says, attempting to whisper, but still being incredibly loud, “and I wanna play with the burners and light shit on fire.”

Logan blinks.

“Hopefully, light shit on fire,” Remus clarifies.

It doesn’t really help.

Or, alternatively, Remus King gets transferred to Logan Mun's chemistry class and it is either the best, or worse, mistake his school has ever made... Most likely the worse.

LFN masterlist | FANFICTION MASTERLIST

Period 3: Chemistry

SANDERS, THOMAS

RM: 803

Logan’s eyes trail up at the propped open door. He reads the door number and lets his eyes fall back down to his phone. Rereading his Junior year schedule for the 5th time– despite it never happening, Logan’s still thoroughly distraught at the concept of walking into the wrong class– he confirms that this is, in fact, his 2nd class of the day. (3 months into the school year and Logan still is confused by his schedule; even more so by even and odd days.) He pockets his phone and takes a few steps into the class, almost running straight into his science teacher, Mr. Sanders.

“Woah, there!” Mr. Sanders laughs a little, holding his hands out against Logan’s shoulders, “you almost bumped into me.”

Logan points his head down, eyeing the red shirt in front of him. “I apologise, Mr. Sanders.” A couple of students walk past the two of them into the classroom, waving at the teacher– most of them have their eyes on Logan, however.

“You’re all good, dude!” Mr. Sanders steps back from Logan. “Watch out next time.”

Logan nods, quick and jerky, and moves past him into the classroom.

He tries his best to weave through the tables and groups of students to get to his assigned desk (center room, 2nd table, left chair). Bright lights shine above him. Students are laughing and talking, even throwing pencils and ( lightly ) hitting one another. He finally gets to his seat and plugs his ears with his fingers, letting his cheeks rest on his palms. He notices all the eyes on him and keeps his head down– being autistic in high school is, unsurprisingly, very Hard.

More students make their way into the classroom. Their lab tables are arranged all facing the board and they fit two chairs for partners. They all walk past Logan and sit down at their desks, with their friends pushing the seats next to them out and sitting beside them.

Logan's seat stays empty, however, still pushed in against the table.

Their desks also face the large pride flag hanging at the front of the room (a few students were confused at the stripes, specifically the lavender and pink ones at the top; Mr. Sanders explained their meaning during the first week of school). (He seemed a little saddened at the fact people didn't know what those two stripes meant or were.) It's covered in multi-coloured signatures, with few open spaces for more. Mr. Sanders explained that his students can sign it at the end of the school year if they wanted. That caught Logan's attention— regardless of the fact that Logan is the only autistic student in class, as opposed to being in a group like his other classes, he gets excited coming to this class.

The bell rings loud in the class and everyone scrambles to their seats.

Objectively, it only takes 2 minutes for the bell to ring and for everyone to quiet down.

Subjectively, it’s a million years before everyone shuts the fuck up.

Mr. Sanders strolls into the room, waving. Behind him walks in Mx. Picani, Logan’s “special ed” assistant teacher. (Logan immediately glances down at their tie. Today, it’s pink with “she/her” embroidered at the bottom in blue floss– Picani changes pronouns depending on how she’s feeling that day. Logan thinks it is very cool.) Picani takes a seat at the front table, beaming at Logan.

“Hey, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals!” Mr. Sanders interrupts Logan’s thoughts, smiling wide at his students. “Letting y’all know right now that we are starting an experiment today, hence the Fireboys on your tables.” Excited cheers are scattered in the room, combined with a single unhappy groan. Mr. Sanders furrows his eyebrows and glances around the room, still smiling. The class starts laughing a bit. “Let me do attendance real quick and I’ll explain the experiment.” He draws out the ‘a’ in ‘and’ and sits down at his desk. The class all turns to the Fireboys, or an alternative to Bunsen burners, and starts messing with them.

Mr. Sanders stands up quick, making Logan jump in his seat. His chair rolls back and hits the wall behind him. “DO. NOT. TOUCH. THE. FIREBOYS.” A chorus of AWWs breaks out. Mr. Sanders pointedly looks at a group of boys in the back of the class and sits back down.

Mr. Sanders assigned seats the second week of school, so thankfully he doesn’t do his attendance out loud. He goes through his seating chart and checks to see if the seat is filled; if anyone is absent, he will then call out their name. (Logan much prefers this over how most of his teachers do attendance.)

Logan reaches down to his backpack to pull out a pencil and an eraser. He sets the pencil down on the desk, pushing it over to the left side, before placing his eraser directly next to it. A student at the table next to him sends a glance to his eraser and smiles– Logan can’t tell if it’s a teasing one or a genuine one, but he does know they’re smiling at the cat pencil topper and his long-eared owl eraser. He scrapes his feet against the tiled floor, tilting his head down. Using his hands and arms, he tries to cover them. (Yes, he could just move it off his desk, but Logan refuses to use a normal eraser or get rid of his pencil toppers, even if it means getting ridiculed.)

Mr. Sanders gets up and opens his mouth to start talking.

Immediately, an interruption happens.

The classroom door swings open and a student stomps in. The denim jacket they’re wearing is covered in pins and chains and spikes; they sound coins or keys clinking together, getting the attention of everyone in the room. The door slams shut behind them.

Mr. Sanders glances up at the student, before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Remus King ,” he says, “you’re 7 minutes late.” He looks them up and down and frowns. “ And you’re not in dress code.”

The student– Remus, apparently– shoves their hands into the pockets of their heavily ripped jeans and shrugs their satchel-like bookbag to fit better on their shoulder. They look down at their outfit and back up at Mr. Sanders. Letting the biggest grin split their face– having more teeth than Logan thinks a human should even have– they throw their head to the side.

“I am! ” Remus sounds almost excited to get dress coded.

The class is whispering to each other and Logan overhears the group in front of him say, “oh my god, its fucking Remus King.” “What a freak.”

Mr. Sanders shakes his head, smiling almost fondly. “And why are you late to my class today, Mr. King?” He pauses. “Again.”

“I woke up late and missed my bus.”

Mr. Sanders peeks at the clock near the door.

“It’s… second period, Remus.”

“I woke up really late!” Remus sways back and forth. “ And I forgot my schedule changed, so now you’re my third period!”

“I am going to have to write you up and send you to the deans, Remus.”

Remus shrugs their shoulders at Mr. Sanders. They haven’t stopped grinning like the Cheshire Cat since they started.

Mr. Sanders gestures to the rest of the class. “Take a seat, so that I can explain our experiment today and then I’ll write you a pass, alright?” Remus scans the room, before landing on Logan.

Logan can’t tell if this student is actively trying to stomp or if their boots are just making that noise.

Remus gets to Logan’s table, drags the chair harder than they should causing it to shriek, and throws themself into the seat– literally . A few students laugh as they right themself in the chair. Logan almost immediately notices the giant pin on Remus’ collar:

the transgender flag with the words ‘he/him’.

Logan’s leg starts bouncing up and down violently.

He looks up at Remus, only for Remus to be staring directly at him, and he snaps his head to the floor. (Remus’ shoes are covered in spikes and laced like ladders in yellow and purple.) He looks over at the desk.

There’s a finger with chipped green nail polish in front of his nose, pointing at something outside of his vision. Logan instinctively moves his head back.

“I like your owl eraser,” Remus says. The finger retreats.

Logan opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He nods twice, closing his mouth, and Remus snorts.

Logan really wants to talk to Remus, but he has no idea what to say.

…

He needs to say something.

He bites his lip and opens his mouth–

“Alright, y’all!”

Logan cocks his head up at Mr. Sanders, who’s standing at the front of the room with his hands clasped together. Logan tries to look at Remus again, but Remus isn’t paying attention.

“Lets talk about our experiment.”

Maybe he should pass Remus a note? Is that a socially acceptable thing? He doesn’t know, the only time he’s seen people pass notes is in shows and movies. He’s never passed a note before, nor has he ever had someone pass him a note.

Logan wrings his hands together under the table.

He thinks Remus’ jacket is really cool and he’s queer. And Remus chose to sit next to him.

Should he introduce himself during the experiment? Maybe he should wait? So they aren’t distracted during the experiment. But what if Logan forgets by then? What if Logan makes a fool of himself during the experiment and Remus thinks he’s the lamest person on the planet? He could wait until the end of class, but what if that’s too long of a wait? Is it weird to introduce yourself an hour and 40 minutes after, technically, meeting someone for the first time? They’re going to have to talk during the experiment, so–

“Helllooo? Did you rip off your ears or something?”

Logan looks up sharply at the voice, making direct eye contact with Remus’ wide eyes. He looks over at Remus’ spiked shoulder.

“… What?” Logan asks.

“The experiment is starting now and I need you to get the cool powders, because if I do it then Mr. Sanders is going to remember he has to send me to the deans’,” Remus says, attempting to whisper, but still being incredibly loud, “and I wanna play with the burners and light shit on fire.”

Logan blinks.

“Hopefully, light shit on fire,” Remus clarifies.

It doesn’t really help.

“Uh–,” Logan stares at Remus’ pins (there’s an 8 striped rainbow flag, one that says ‘ACAB’ and another that says ‘abolish the police’, and Logan almost misses the drawing of someone wearing a strap-on under a band pin that says ‘Operation Ivy’), “… What?”

Remus rolls his eyes and Logan feels something in his stomach. He points to the Fireboys. “We’re using chemicals to change the colour of the fire. The chemicals are with Mr. Sanders at the front table.”

Logan nods quickly, clambering out of his seat.

There's a somewhat short line of students grabbing their materials at the front of the room. Everyone else is at their desks, starting their Bunsen Burners and going over the instruction sheet.

“Hey, Lo!” Mx. Picani says once Logan's at the table. Mr. Sanders is standing next to her, helping another student. “You need your stuff?” Logan nods, very slowly, and Picani hands him small containers of various white powders.

Logan has no idea what these chemicals are.

“Do you need any help?” Picani asks. “Or are you alright with Remus?” She’s biting her bottom lip, glancing at Remus every two seconds. Logan nods.

“Well…” she says, drawing it out, “if you say so!” She smiles at Logan: corners of her lips pointed upwards, but her eyebrows are furrowed and she can't seem to make eye contact with Logan, like she usually tries to do. Logan attempts to smile back and roams back to his table.

It takes a little too long for Remus and him to get set up. Between Logan not even paying attention and Remus just wanting to play with fire, they end up being the last group to start the experiment. (And then after turning on their Fireboy, Mr. Sanders suddenly remembers that Remus needs to be sent to the deans’.

“Aren’t I supposed to be sending you somewhere? … Like the deans’?” Mr. Sanders asks, pointing directly at Remus.

Remus pouts. “Can’t you just send me after class?”

“Remus.”

“PLEASE?”)

Logan positions his goggles over his glasses and his entire body seizes. He only barely stops himself from slamming the goggles to the ground and flapping his hands (he hates wearing these stupid goggles; who cares about safety when there’s bad textures around?) Remus is sat next to him with his arms crossed. Mr. Sanders told him he was allowed to go to the deans’ after class, but wasn’t allowed to participate in the experiment. And now he was pouting.

Black dyed strands of hair fall in front of Remus’ eyes (Logan knows it’s dyed because he can see Remus’ light brown roots) along with white strands from where his vitiligo meets his hairline on his already pale skin. (Remus’ hair is shaved at the sides, minus for the parts of hair in front of his ears; it looks like it could be turned into a mohawk if he put hair spray into it.) (He wonders if Remus has done that before.)

Logan shakes his head a little, trying to get rid of the concept of leaning forward and brushing those strands back.

Their experiment involves using different chemicals to change the colour of the fire on their Bunsen burners. Logan delicately puts lithium chloride into the fire, changing it to a reddish pink colour, much to both Logan’s and Remus’ delight. Logan stomps his feet a little.

“What’s your name, dork?”

Remus is resting his arms on the table, scratching at it. Logan stutters before answering the question.

“It’s Logan.”

The corners of Remus’ mouth turn up a bit.

“My name’s Remus!”

Logan nods. “Yes, I know.” He grabs another chemical, sodium chloride, and tips it into the fire.

“Ooooh ,” Remus says, voice high and in a tone Logan quite can’t catch, “You know?” Remus wiggles his eyebrows. Badly. “Am I just THAT popular? Or have you imagined me naked before?”

Logan is now confused. “No?” He grabs a different chemical. “Mr. Sanders called you Remus and referred to you as that four times.” Out of the corner of his eyes, Remus’ grin gets wider. He cackles, shrugging and sitting up straight.

“I guess you’re right!”

“I am right. There is no ‘guessing’ about it.”

Remus leans close to the fire. Logan swats him away.

Logan continues to change the colour of the fire, from yellow to purple to orange to white, before Remus speaks up again.

“I called you dork earlier,” He says, putting his chin in his palm. “Did you know that means whale penis?”

Logan decides not to respond to that.

They work in, surprisingly, good rhythm, with Logan using the chemicals and Remus writing on their sheet (after Logan explains what he needs to write). The entire class is somewhat quiet. Slight buzzing of talking partially fills the room and the only other noises are the fire and scratching of pens and pencil on paper. (The light is still bright in Logan's eyes, but he's able to think straight and focus.)

Logan hears Remus shuffle next to him, but he doesn't glance over or try to figure out what he's doing. There’s a tug at his sleeve, a breath on his ear, and the words: “do you wanna see something even cooler?”

Logan flinches away. He feels his entire face scrunch up and his lips purse; his entire body revolts. Remus is grinning, holding Logan’s sleeve in between his pointer finger and thumb.

“What are you talking about?” Logan whispers back. He turns off the Fireboy.

“Follow me,” Remus says. He scans the room and puts his finger up to his lips, making a shushing motion.

Mr. Sanders is talking to a group near the side of the room. Mx. Picani is still sitting at the front table, scrolling through her phone with paperwork in front of her. Everyone else is busy, in between “oohs” and “aahs”, they’re having classroom-noise appropriate conversation. Remus slinks across the room, Logan not far behind, and they both make their way to the far corner.

Logan furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head.

Remus does another look around (Logan thinks it might be for comedic effect). He drops to his knees and grabs the cabinet door in front of him.

The one labeled “chemicals”.

Logan’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Didn’t Mr. Sanders tell us not to mess with the chemicals without his permission?” Logan’s whispers, wringing his hands together. He turns his head to look at the science teacher and then back down at Remus. “It’s in the student rules that Mr. Sanders gave us at the start of the school year. We had a test on it to make sure we knew–”

“Oh, calm down, dork!” Remus stands up, holding two tiny containers: one shaped like a pill container and the other an eye dropper. “I promise you, it’s not that serious.” Logan makes a face.

“Come on,” Remus says, “it’ll be fun!”

Logan hears Mr. Sanders as he continues to talk to the same group of students; he’s not even paying attention to anything Logan or Remus are doing. Remus bounces in place, watching Logan with large eyes and an even larger smile.

This is breaking the rules.

Remus is breaking the rules.

… Logan is breaking the rules if he continues.

He peers down at the containers.

“… Okay,” Logan says, “show me your ‘cool thing’.”

A squeal escapes from Remus’ mouth, followed by a loud clack as his teeth hit each other when he shuts his mouth. He kicks the cabinet doors close and escorts Logan back to their desk. Logan is watching Mr. Sanders and Picani attentively, like a guard dog protecting their owner. When he looks back at Remus, he’s already poured the little bottle of white powder onto the table. It makes a little pyramid.

Logan can finally read the labels on the bottles: potassium chlorate and sulfuric acid. (Logan eyes the empty packet of sugar at the edge of the table). Remus looks up at Logan, holding the sulfuric acid pipette over the powder. “Are you ready?”

Logan looks at the pile. “Have you done this before?”

Remus grins.

“Nope!”

He squeezes a little drop of sulfuric acid out and leans away.

A sizzling, crackling noise and then there’s a small amount of smoke escaping the droplet. A girl behind them screams as a huge, light pink flame erupts from the pile.

Remus lets out a cackle. “FIRE!–”

“ REMUS! ”

Logan looks up to see Mr. Sanders rush towards them. Behind him, Mx. Picani is also running over.

“WHAT DID YOU DO? ” Mr. Sanders shouts. The fire they started has already dissipated, leaving a black pile of whatever behind. Picani wraps her hands around Logan’s shoulders and pulls him away from the table.

Remus whistled and looked all around. “DEFINITELY wasn’t me! I would never do that!”

Mr. Sanders doesn’t look very amused.

“Are you alright, Logan?” Picani asks. She’s cradling Logan’s cheeks in her hands and Logan tries to squirm out of her fingers.

“Sulfuric acid?” Mr. Sanders picks up a bottle and reads it. “Did you get chemicals without my permission?” Remus doesn’t respond. “AND you dragged Logan into your little–” he stutters, “mess? What would’ve happened if you hurt him? You put Logan in harm’s way.”

Remus pouts. “I didn’t drag Logan into anything, he–”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Mr. Sanders holds up a hand. “Step outside of my classroom. Right Now, Remus.”

The entire class is quiet, minus for a few mutters. Everyone is eyeing each other, eyes wide and jaw slack. There’s only a few students who are trying not to smile and laugh.

Mr. Sanders looks at Logan. “Are you okay?” He’s looking at Logan with an expression Logan knows very well. Like he’s some sort of skittish animal. Or a baby. And everyone around him is trying not to make him start wailing.

Logan bites the inside of his cheek.

“Remus did not ‘drag me’ into anything,” Logan starts, pushing Picani away a little. “I’m the one that told him to do it.”

Picani gasps behind him. "What?”

Logan steps back and forth against the tiled floor. “We both chose to go to your cabinet, Mr. Sanders.”

Mr. Sanders’ eyebrows raise and disappear behind his bags. His mouth opens and closes– he looks like a fish out of water.

Everyone has their eyes on Logan. He's standing with his feet apart and hands curled tightly. He tries his best to keep his head up and look at Mr. Sanders, though every part of him wants him to duck down and crawl underneath the table in front of him.

“That’s–” a sigh escapes Mr. Sanders. “Alright, Logan Mun. Please step outside with… Remus. ”

There’s a few murmurs throughout the class as Logan makes his way over to the door.

Remus is standing with wide eyes. His feet tap against the floor in a wild rhythm and his eyes skitter all over the room. Logan bets Remus would be wagging a tail, if he had one.

------

Logan’s not sure if it’s embarrassing or exciting to be walked to the deans’ office for the first time.

Remus and him are led by Picani and a hall monitor, who’s speaking into their little radio, through the halls. Their shoes squeak against the floor.

They’re in one of the deans’ rooms, sitting in chairs across from the Principal. It takes a long, stern talking from them and an even longer call to their parents before their punishment is revealed: 2 weeks suspension and a week of detention after they come back (Logan gets 2 weeks, for “confessing” that the plan was his). Since they weren’t actively trying to hurt anyone or set fire to the school– and because that didn’t happen– their punishment, thankfully, didn’t involve going to the juvenile detention center.

They’re dragged out of the dean’s office into the waiting room that connects all the dean’s and counselors’ rooms together. Loud clacking is the only sound Logan can hear, coming from the person sitting at the front desk. Mx. Picani makes Logan take a seat at one of the chairs next to the door.

“You should call your mother, Logan. She has to pick you up,” she says. She doesn’t try to make eye contact with Logan, instead her eyes are glued on the wall behind him. There’s a wrinkle in between her eyebrows. Behind her, Remus is sat at a couch-like seat across the room. One of the deans is talking to him, voices so low Logan cannot hear what they’re saying over the sound of the keyboard.

Logan is in the middle of a call with his mother, when he overhears yelling coming from Remus’ phone. Remus sits with his phone tilted away from his ear, looking completely unbothered. The door opens and a preppy-looking kid (Logan has to do a double take, because they look so similar to Remus) rushes in. They’re sitting down next to Remus and are asking him if he’s okay.

“Logan’a’,” his mother says through the phone, “you listening?”

“Yes, eomma,” Logan responds, “I apologise.”

“My boss won’t let me out of work early, so I’ll have to come pick you up later, alright?”

“Yes, eomma.”

(It’s only later, when Remus and Logan are both sitting in detention waiting for their parents to come pick them up, does Remus lean over and whisper: "did you think it was cool?"

Logan looks at Remus, making eye contact for less than a second, feeling the corners of his lips perk up.

“Yes,” Logan admits. “I did think it was cool.”)

#intrulogicalweek2022 #sanders sides #intrulogical #logan x remus #logan sanders #remus sanders #ts logan #ts remus #blog tags ->#fanfics!#revys works!#logan #remus

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