#yeah uh sorry if the whole 'drama'-ish thing already passed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ri-ahhh · 4 years ago

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desert secrets

MJ meets a helpful stranger in the desert that turns out to be more than she hoped for.

7k holy shit lol

warnings: some pretty unrealistic fluff that might get your hopes up that you’ll have a meet-cute with Grayson

***

Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Shit on a fucking stick. You actual fucking idiot, MJ.

A stream of thoughts along these general lines becomes her stream of conscience as MJ Macias plops down on a large rock, throwing her head back to the sky to bask in the sun and her own general incompetency. Maybe the heat of the desert mountain sun beating on her face will cause her to shrivel up and disintegrate to become lizard food or something — the thought isn’t altogether unwelcome.

Her trip to the middle of nowhere was meant to clear her mind both through exercise in the form of a nice, long hike, as well as simply by being alone amongst nature, under an endless expanse of clouds and stars. The week had been pure hell for her: she had been let go from her dream job at her marketing firm in the latest round of budget-related layoffs; received a ticket from a dickhead cop for going 34 in a 30; and discovered last night that the hot water heater in her apartment had broken. To top it all off, her ex had been harassing her relentlessly over texts and calls, wanting to meet up and ‘talk about things’ since she had dumped him two months ago.

So as she cried hot tears in a frigid shower that morning, thoroughly wallowing in self-pity, an idea popped into her head that was so spontaneous and ridiculous she didn't even try to talk herself out of it: go on a solo camping trip.

MJ really has no idea why this of all the therapeutic outlets available to her was something her brain decided was the right one, since a camper she is not. Sure, she loves being outside in the sun for a good hike, or a swim in the ocean once in a while — nature isn’t the problem. It’s the whole navigating-desert-terrain-alone-and-sleeping-on-the-ground thing that isn’t usually at the top of her list of fun weekend activities. The tent and sleeping bag that she had been forced to purchase for the ridiculous bachelorette party of one of her very outdoorsy friends had called her name as she paced manically around her apartment that morning, though.

Did she have every intent to return them after their one-time use? Absolutely. Did they both end up getting thrown to the back of her storage closet and thus forgotten about until then? Also, yes.

Both her practically nonexistent camping experience and her general lack of enthusiasm for the activity as a whole should have been her first clues at how moronic she was for thinking this is a trip she should (or could) handle alone. But, now determined to have the ultimate self-care weekend, she had: packed a backpack as an overnight bag; tossed it with her shitty little tent and a cooler full of snacks and water in the back of her car; texted her best friend Lainey to sound the alarm if she wasn’t home in 36 hours; and driven away to the first camping ground Google showed her that was at least 100 miles outside of LA. It seemed adventurous and spontaneous an indie movie-esque at the time.

But now, as she sits on this rock, feet and back aching, utterly fucking lost, MJ is starting to feel more like she’s on a self-inflicted episode of Punk’d. Being very directionally challenged, she had been using the maps feature on her phone to find her way back to her campsite after going on a winding, hilly hike, until her phone had suddenly died. The trails have no legible signs so between her use of the GPS, the borderline stalker-ish calls from her ex, and the heat of the sun, she’s left without her lifeline much sooner than she could have anticipated.

She thinks of her backpack and the battery-powered charger in her tent. In a moment of pure rage with herself for being such a lost, ill-prepared dumbass, she wants nothing more than to run back up the mountain and punt the now useless little piece of metal and plastic into the abyss. Her inner drama queen thinks maybe the best thing that could happen is that it will fall on a mountain lion, which will devour her out of anger before she shrivels up into lizard food, and put her out of her misery early.

MJ rolls her eyes at how ridiculous she’s being, and forces herself to take a deep breath and think. Her inner antics really do bring up an actually pressing issue. There are plenty of animals out here that don’t need any iPhone provocation to attack, and she’s only armed with a half-empty HydroFlask and a sparkly purple tube of pepper spray. Not to mention, judging from the incurring pinkness of the sky, the sun is going to set soon, and with that means it’ll be getting cold as well. She looks down at her thin Lulu Lemon tank top and shorts.

Fuuuck.

Knowing she has to make a decision, MJ doesn’t second guess herself when her feet heave her body off of her rock and set off further down the trail. Her only hopes at this point are to either miraculously stumble upon her camp before dark, or pray that she runs into fellow campers that might have a portable charger and that also aren’t serial killers. The only people she had passed on her hike had been a middle-aged couple and a woman maybe a little older than herself with a dog, but she couldn't have any idea if they were staying on the campgrounds or merely taking a day trip. Like she should have done.

MJ walks down the trail a solid 20 minutes, and wonders where the hell she had actually gone on her hike to be so far out from her own campsite. Inexperience with the outdoors had made her assume all the trails met up in a circle, but clearly that isn’t the case here. She’s already out of the hiking trail and in one of the areas designated for camping, but there are a couple of those around the park and she has no clue which one she had chosen.

Trying and failing to keep the creeping worry out of her spine as a few clouds turn orange and the noises of the nocturnal wildlife start up, she picks up her pace.

She’s about to resign herself to huddling in an unoccupied camping spot for the night when she suddenly sees flumes of smoke about a football field away. The Hallelujah chorus fills her head, and she mumbles out a quick ‘thank you’ to whoever is listening as she practically speed-walks to her impending safety.

The smell of the crackling wood draws her nearer and nearer. When she finally rounds the corner, she’s surprised and disappointed to see that while there is indeed a small fire burning, as well as a deconstructed tent piled on the ground, the occupant of the campsite is nowhere to be found. MJ hesitates and looks around for any sign of them, not foreseeing this issue. Should she wait around like a creep? Keep walking and hope to run into them?

“Can I help you?”

MJ startles out of her skin and lets out an embarrassing little squeak. She whips around and is thoroughly unprepared to see what just might be the hottest guy she’s ever had the pleasure of laying her eyes on in real life. Judging from her own height, he’s maybe six foot or a tad over; his thick arms are laden with a bulky backpack and a sleeping bag, and his dark hazel eyes observe her warily behind a flop of dark wavy hair.

“Uh,” she begins stupidly, slightly stunned by both his sudden appearance and his masculine beauty. “Yeah, um, I’m so sorry to intrude on your space but, I, you know, got a little confused on the trails and, uh…”

He raises a naturally arched eyebrow expectantly as she pauses and stumbles over her words. MJ looks at him, then releases a huge breath she hadn't even realized had been held in her chest until this moment, officially giving up on not sounding like a complete and total idiot.

“I’m fucking lost. I have a terrible sense of direction and was using a map online of the trails to find the pin I dropped on my campsite, but my phone died. Is there any chance you have a portable charger I can use for, like, twenty minutes?”

The guy chuckles, and despite her pure mortification at the situation, MJ cracks a smile too, glad to see he isn’t pissed at her for lurking around his campsite like the actual weirdo she is. Unfortunately for her, though, his crooked grin somehow makes him even more attractive, which doesn’t bode well for her already inevitable awkwardness.

“Uh, yeah, I have my Mophie in here somewhere,” he says, indicating the backpack in his arms. He nods his head in the direction of his campsite where there is a large stone clearly put there by park officials as a makeshift bench. “Come on over and I’ll find it.”

“Thank you,” MJ sighs in relief. She follows him through the gap in the log threshold, and when he drops the items he’s carrying on the ground, she gapes; holy shit, the man is built. She could tell he had pythons for arms, but the stuffed backpack and sleeping bag had hidden the way his plain white t-shirt stretches taut over every solid, muscled crevice of his torso.

She shakes her head and hopes he can’t sense her obvious stare that has since traveled from the breadth of his shoulders, down his tapered waist, settled on his ass, and finished on the multitude of tattoos decorating his legs as he walks in front of her. MJ finds every one of these aspects of him immensely appealing; she’s never felt so viscerally attracted to a complete stranger in her entire life.

MJ settles on the rock and, sensing some of the aforementioned awkwardness about to settle in the air, searches her brain for a way to alleviate it. She knows she’ll only be here a short amount of time, but she feels compelled to get to know him even just a little bit. And to not make a complete fool of herself, if possible.

“What’s your name?” she asks. That’s a safe place to start. She hugs her knees to her chest as she watches him arrange the stuff he had just dropped into a neater pile.

“Grayson,” he replies. Grayson crouches down to dig through his backpack and flashes her a friendly, blinding smile over his shoulder. “Yours?”

As if she couldn’t embarrass herself any more, she feels a flush rise to her cheeks. For fucks sake, she isn’t 16 talking to her high school crush — she’s a grown woman who has been with plenty of guys and knows how to have a simple conversation with one, no matter how hot they are.

“MJ,” she finally manages to get out.

“MJ,” he repeats, testing it on his tongue, nodding approvingly. “That’s cool. I don't think I’ve ever met a girl with that kind of name. What does it stand for?”

He stands and turns to face her. He extends the little black charger to her and MJ looks up at him through her lashes as he towers over her, biting her lip. Flirting isn’t her strong suit whatsoever, but she can’t help trying; it’s not like she’s going to see him again by the time the sun sets.

“It’s a secret,” she answers after a brief moment, taking the Mophie from Grayson and accidentally-on-purpose brushing the tips of her fingers against the back of his. “Thanks.”

Grayson raises his eyebrows, but a humored grin graces his full lips. “Okay,” he says, surprising her by taking a seat next to her as she plugs in her phone. “But who better to spill your secrets to than a total stranger, you know?”

MJ can’t help the giggle that escapes her throat, humored more by the fact that he seems to be having the same idea of fuck it, we won’t ever see each other again, as her, than his actual question. His nearness should make her uncomfortable, but it just…doesn’t; he’s close enough for her to smell his scent emanating from his warm body. Clean, like laundry and soap, but also hints of an earthy, masculine cologne and an admittedly enticing musk from being in the sun. She wants to lean in and inhale him.

God, she hopes she isn’t coming off as insane as she feels inside. What is wrong with her? He’s just a guy. A guy whose close proximity as a stranger should be making her feel intimidated rather than buzzing with electricity.

“You’re very right,” she says, leaning back on her hands to appear more relaxed. “If I die out here in the wilderness, killed by my own stupidity, I wouldn't want the last person to see me alive not know my real name.”

Grayson throws his head back and laughs, and it draws one from herself as well. She likes his laugh because despite the deep timbre of his voice, the sound is carefree and boyish.

“It’s Makenna Jean,” she finally admits once they both quiet down. “I’m named after my grandmothers, but my mom didn't like your typical shortenings people might automatically give to Makenna — you know, Mack, Ken, Kenna, all those. So she just started calling me MJ to avoid it all, and…that’s me, MJ.”

He nods in understanding. “Gotcha.”

They continue effortless conversation for a while, words and laughter flowing freely from their lips with an ease that MJ hasn’t experienced in years. In the first lull, though, MJ fills it with a sigh and extends her long legs to stretch them as they tire from being folded so closely to her body, flexing and pointing her toes. She knows her shorts are a little too short, her tank top a little low cut, even with a sports bra on. It’s another one of those accidentally-on-purpose moves that starts as inadvertent in the way it exposes and elongates her body, but ends in her relishing the way his eyes quickly dart across her form. She’s reticent to admit that she isn’t mad about it. Not even a little.

She ducks her head and bites her lip to hide a triumphant smirk as Grayson clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “So, are you out here by yourself?”

For the first time since she met him, a little swoop of nerves unrelated to her attraction to him passes through the pit of her stomach. She feels like she’s always had a spot-on instinct for determining someone’s ‘vibes’, and Grayson has only given her good ones since the minute she saw him. Maybe she’s fallen victim to the Ted Bundy effect, though…

He seems to pick up on her hesitation, and Grayson slaps his palm to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, sorry, that was so creepy. I didn't mean it like that, I was just, uh, making conversation.” He opens his eyes and rubs his forehead and, to her shock, is he blushing now? “I promise I’m not a murderer.”

She might have still been weirded out by a guy even putting the word out there in this situation, but her gut is telling her that Grayson is harmless, and she prides herself on being a pretty good judge of character.

“It’s okay,” she says, giving him a serious look. “I promise I’m not either. But you should know that I’m packing heat with a fully loaded can of mace and my best white belt skills from the karate classes my mom made me take in 4th grade.”

Grayson gives her a disbelieving look. “Fourth grade karate, huh?”

“Yep. For real, I’ll karate chop your arm off if you try anything sketch.”

“Try,” he challenges with a beautiful, dangerous smile, leaning in ever so slightly and looking her dead in the eye. It takes her breath away a little bit. “I dare you.”

MJ scoffs, still keeping up this facade that she isn’t fighting every primal urge to mount him, especially with the unmistakeable tinge of flirtation in his last words.

“Fine,” she accepts. Grayson grins wider and leans back, offering her his right arm. “Get ready.”

“Oh, I am.”

She lines her hand up with the dip in his muscles between his shoulder and the top of his bicep, rears it back, and —

“Ow!”

The side of her hand simply bounces off of the solid mass of his bulging arm. Grayson does that head-back belly laugh again and she pretends to pout as she rubs her sore hand. “That hurt way more than it should have!” she exclaims. “What are you, Superman?”

Grayson, still laughing, grabs her hand in his and strokes it rather tenderly considering the sheer size of his palm compared to hers. And it’s so cliche, but MJ swears she feels tingles where their skin connects.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, biting his lip in an attempt to contain himself. “It’s just, in the least misogynistic way possible, that was high-key cute.”

“Hmph.” MJ scrunches her nose at him as her heart drops to her stomach in the best, scariest way.

Uh oh. He's a stranger, MJ; you’ve known him for half an hour, MJ; you’re in the middle of nowhere, MJ — you can’t catch feelings for a stranger you’ve know for half an hour in the middle of nowhere, MJ…

She clears her throat and gives his hand a slight squeeze before extracting it from his grip, hoping that conveys that she doesn’t disapprove of his touch. But the sun is well on it’s way to setting, and she does need to check her phone battery. It’s at 28%, not as much as she hoped for but probably enough to do the trick.

Shit. MJ really, really doesn’t want to leave him, but she can’t exactly invite herself to stay longer. She had already kept him from building his tent, and his fire is starting to die as well. She turns back to face him only to find his eyes trained on her, brow slightly scrunched. Her belly swoops again.

“I should, ah, probably get going,” MJ admits quietly, fidgeting with her fingers. A shiver runs down her spine and goosebumps raise themselves up the skin of her arms, too, as the setting sun steadily lowers the temperature around them. She crosses her arms across her chest, partly for warmth and partly to hide her stiffened nipples that peak through her thin sports bra and tank. “Or I really will kill myself out here in the dark by walking off a cliff or something.”

Grayson smiles woefully and lets out a little huff, ducking his gaze down for a moment and picking at a thread on his shorts. “Yeah, I understand.”

Is it her imagination or does he sound…disappointed?

When he looks back up at her, the sudden intensity of his gaze makes her swallow thickly. She wants so badly to ask for his number, his Instagram, his last name, but it all seems too weird given the circumstances and the amount of time (or lack thereof) they’ve spent together. Besides, she thinks, she’s still dealing with a psycho ex amongst the rest of her life falling apart, and doesn’t need any more boy problems in her already crazy-stressful life.

MJ stands and dusts off the back of her shorts. “Thank you, Grayson, seriously. You really did save my ass,” she says with a sad smile.

“Of course,” he replies, standing with her.

She unplugs her phone and pulls up both maps before setting off down the trail with one last wave at the gorgeous, sweet man she’s so reluctantly leaving behind.

“MJ, wait!”

She stops in her tracks, black Nikes skidding in the loose, sandy dirt. Turning around in time to see Grayson dig his hands in the backpack to fish out a sweatshirt and flashlight, her heart lifts when he starts jogging toward her. Despite her elation, however, she looks up at him confusedly.

“I’ve actually been to this place a few times, so I’m pretty familiar with the trails and campgrounds. I would feel a lot better if I walked you to your tent. Not that you need a man to help you anywhere or…whatever, but yeah, only if you want —”

“Grayson,” she interrupts, touching a slim hand to his forearm. She smiles, endeared at how flustered he’s getting. He runs a hand through his hair again. Is this him wanting to spend more time with her, or him simply being a gentleman? “I really do appreciate it, but I’ve already kept you from setting up your own camp. I couldn't ask you to walk me all the way to BFE and risk you coming back alone in the dark.”

Grayson shakes his head. “I swear, it’s fine. I’ve got a flashlight.” He clicks it on and shines it under his chin, illuminating his head in typical campfire story-time style, and makes a face at her. MJ giggles. “And you can’t be too far from here; there are only two main campgrounds and they’re less than a mile apart from each other, so I should make it back before dark one way or the other.”

A shiver from the cold overtakes her body suddenly. “Oh, here,” he adds, extending the purple hoodie to her. She starts to protest, but he shakes his head and holds it at her more insistently. “I know you’re cold.”

MJ flushes, but takes the soft garment from him gratefully. “I never said I was cold,” she remarks as she shoves her arms in the sleeves and slips it over her head. It practically swallows her, but it smells just like the laundry/cologne scent she had picked up earlier, only more concentrated and delicious.

Grayson eyes her up and down slowly, grinning. “I’m observant,” he says teasingly.

MJ raises her brows at him amusedly. Again, she should be creeped out, but there’s something about him that sends all potential red flags out the window.

“And I might not be done sharing secrets with you,” he adds quietly, smiling the softest, sexiest smile she’s ever seen and utilizing the ultimate puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”

Well, twist my arm, MJ thinks sarcastically. “Okay,” she says without hesitation now, her insides jittering with a strange mixture of happiness and nerves. He beams at her and jerks his head in indication for them to continue down the trail.

“So, you never said what you’re doing out here by yourself,” Grayson prompts, nudging her with his elbow.

MJ shakes her head and smiles up at him. “Nuh-uh. Not only is that a sob story no one wants to hear, it’s definitely your turn to share. So I could ask you what you’re doing out here by yourself?”

Grayson shrugs as if to say ‘fair enough.’ “I’m not, actually. I’m with my brother and his girlfriend because she wanted to camp, but my brother doesn’t know shit about it. I only came under the agreement that there was going to be no funny business while I was around, only to come back from getting firewood to find them going at it, so I chose to remove myself from the situation. They��re still at our original campsite further down the trail. I needed to make sure I was far enough away to not hear anything.”

MJ sucks in a sympathetic breath through her teeth. “Ooh, yeah, there’s nothing worse than being the third wheel, especially when you have nowhere to escape.”

“Exactly!” he exclaims, turning to her with his hands raised. “Thank you! Ethan told me I was being dramatic, but it definitely sucks. He’s been with her long enough now, I think he’s forgotten what it’s like to be the lonesome outsider.”

This is the perfect segue for the question, but it gets stuck in her throat. Come on, MJ, grown woman, remember? She’s sure she already knows the answer based on what he had just said, but it never hurts to check.

“So…you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.” She glances up at him to find him staring straight ahead with that lopsided, boyish grin. He looks back down at her and reciprocates the question. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.” MJ is mortified to hear it come out as a whisper. She clears her throat and diverts her gaze to the sunset. She had literally, quite literally, just met this man — he should not have this kind of effect on her.

Just then, her phone buzzes, and she’s infuriated to see the deleted number of her ex pop up on the screen. She groans in frustration. “But it’s not for my idiot ex’s lack of trying to get back together,” she complains, wiggling the phone and sending it straight to voicemail.

“I’m sorry,” Grayson says, shaking his head understandingly. “I’ve definitely been there. How long have you been broken up?”

MJ swipes the voicemail notification away and rolls her eyes. “Over two months. We weren't super serious and it wasn't a crazy bad breakup or anything, we were just in different places, and I’m not one to be in a relationship just for the sake of it. Especially if I’m not feeling any aspect of it. I didn't hear a word from him the first month or so, but he’s acting like we were soulmates who had some tragic ending, calling and texting me nonstop the last couple of weeks.”

Grayson shrugs. “Sounds like he’s just realizing what he missed out on,” he says, grinning. MJ’s breath catches in her throat and she rolls her eyes again embarrassedly with a smile, flushing pink yet again. “Why don’t you block him?”

She sighs. “I probably will. I don't like to burn bridges like that unless someone really does me wrong, but it’s getting ridiculous at this point.”

Grayson nods. “I’m not just saying this, but I feel the exact same way. And about what you said with being in a relationship just to be in one. Like…” he ruffles the back of his hair, something she now detects as a tell for when he's uncomfortable. “Ok, like, this sounds so ugly and conceited, but if I really wanted to be with someone, I could. Ethan and I do social media for a living and we have a decent following, so it’s not a lack of girls, but that’s not me. Maybe when I was a little younger, but…yeah, not now.”

Wow. What does that mean, a decent following? Her job requires her to know the ins and outs of the social media side of marketing, but she isn’t super invested in it for herself entertainment-wise. Mainly, she’s active on Snapchat with her friends and just occasionally uses Insta, so with the knowledge of the spectrum of social media followings, that could really be any number in her book. “So you’re, like, an Instagram model or something?”

He chuckles. “No, no. We make YouTube videos mostly. We’re identical twins so a lot of them are stupid things based on that — challenges and skits and stuff. It’s pretty chill. We’re starting to dabble in documentary-style projects, too.”

MJ gawks at him playfully, though she is actually surprised by his admission. “There are two of you?!” she gasps.

Grayson gapes back at her jokingly. “Technically, yes. He’s my absolute best friend in the entire world and, like I said, we’re identical, but half the time we really couldn’t be more opposite if we tried. I’ll show you our channel later, if you want, and you’ll see.”

“Hmm,” MJ hums, catching her lip with her teeth briefly. “Well I’m sure Ethan is great, but I’m glad I met you, then.”

He bumps her with his hip. “Are you saying you like me?”

MJ rolls her eyes good-naturedly at the teasing lilt to his voice and hopes that the light is low enough that he can’t see the seemingly permanent tint to her cheeks. “Since we’re sharing secrets…maybe. Yes.”

“I like you, too,” he replies, just as quietly. She picks up a barely-detectable lisp on the ’t’ and the East Coast lilt on the ‘oo.’ It’s adorable.

Her heart flutters.

They walk steadily a few more feet in silence, when suddenly she feels his hand brush hers gently. She assumes it was accidental until it happens again, only this time there’s more assertiveness in the movement, clearly indicating what he’s trying to do. Her heart jumps in her throat as she gladly lets his palm dwarf her own as he takes her hand in his. They happen to both glance at each other, only to duck their heads simultaneously, each attempting to hide giddy smiles.

“Ah, so, secrets,” MJ says to break the silence that’s thick with the best kind of tension. “How old are you?”

There’s a beat of silence. “Old enough…almost,” he answers cryptically, side-eyeing her.

His reply actually makes MJ stop in her tracks, and she’s jerked a bit by their joined hands as he continues moving. “What?” she asks incredulously.

Grayson laughs heartily and squeezes her palm, melting her insides a bit. He’s clearly pleased with himself at catching her so off-guard. “I’m kidding. I mean, I am legal, but people tend to think I’m older than I am.” He observes her standing there, waiting for his answer, and finally relents. “I’m 20.”

MJ shakes her head, stunned. “Shut the fuck up!” she exclaims. “Twenty?! Dude, yeah, no kidding people think you’re older. I definitely did.”

He tugs on her hand to keep her walking, and MJ obeys dutifully, still amazed at yet another shocking disclosure. “Is that an issue?”

She shrugs; she feels like it should be, but he doesn’t look or act 20 at all. But also…an issue for what? They literally just met. And she should only be thinking of being friends; she can be friends with a 20 year-old.

That thought doesn’t stop her from answering, though, because time factor aside, something is happening between them. Something more than friends, if she’s letting herself be honest. “I guess it’s only an issue if it affects maturity, but that doesn't seem to be a problem here that I can tell.”

Grayson squeezes her hand again, and a shot of sparks zings up her arm this time. “Good. Now, are you gonna make me ask, or are you gonna tell me how old you are?”

MJ groans. Twenty. She’s basically a dinosaur compared to that. “God, I don’t even want to say now. I’m 24,” she admits.

“What’s wrong with that?” Grayson asks with a chuckle.

“Because…” How do you explain to a young, hot 20 year-old man that every year that you creep closer to 25 only means one year closer to the downhill to 30? “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel old. And stuck. Especially lately. And you seem like this super young, super successful guy. It’s a little intimidating.”

Grayson is quiet for a moment. “If there’s anything I know, it’s not to judge your path based on other’s. If you’re feeling stuck, something will happen that gets you unstuck. Age has nothing to do with that.”

His answer catches MJ by surprise in its sincerity and maturity and thoughtfulness. Before she can form an answer, they pass what must be his brother’s tent. She has to hush her fit of laughter into her free hand when Grayson makes a disgusted little noise and flips off the dark red canvas that is, indeed, rustling suspiciously.

From there on they share anything and everything about each other, with each other. Against her word from earlier, she tells him about losing her job and her other woes from the week; he briefly opens up that he had lost his dad a little over a year ago and is still coping with it. This shocks her a bit, but his openness leads her to sympathize with him by sharing how her mom had passed away in a car accident when she was 15. By the time they reach the next campground, their fingers are completely intertwined and she’s leaning her head on his shoulder, his smell enveloping her completely from both his shirt sleeve and the collar of the hoodie. MJ has truly never felt more connected to a man on this level, and it’s both exciting and terrifying.

They aren’t even to her tent yet and she already doesn’t want him to go.

“Should be just around this corner,” Grayson says, squinting at her phone before concentrating on the trail again.

Sure enough, the next turn reveals her campsite, complete with the tent she had miraculously managed to construct herself and her cooler propped next to the same rock-bench that they had sat on at Grayson’s camp.

Her free hand clenches around his elbow. “Yep, here it is,” she says.

They stop and stand to face one another. “Thanks again, Grayson,” she tells him sincerely. “I didn't really know what the hell I was doing coming out here. In more ways than one, obviously.” This earns her a smile and — God, as if her heart could feel any more sappy in that moment — he brings their clasped hands to his lips to kiss the back of her palm. “But in the hour that I’ve known you I think you’ve helped me take my mind off things more than anyone else back home could have. So…thank you.”

“Of course, MJ,” he says quietly. “I could say the same. I rarely talk about my dad with anyone besides Ethan, let alone someone I just met.” Her heart warms at his confession, and a heated moment of quiet and intense eye contact passes between them before he breaks it. “Come on, I’ll help you start a fire.”

She nods, and they release their grasps on one another to gather sticks and dry brush at his suggestion.

“You know,” he says as he leans over the fire pit that’s now filled with their findings with her lighter, breaking the short silence, “I was going to spend the night alone since E was clearly pretty busy. I don't think he would miss me if I stayed for a bit. To keep telling secrets. If you want, that is.”

MJ swallows. What the hell is this night? She’s pretty sure sad, lost girls meeting and mutually falling for beautiful, polite, genuinely funny boys in the desert is something that only happens in the likes of cheesy Meg Cabot novels. Yet, here she is, living out her nerdy 16 year-old fantasies in real life somehow.

“Yes. I want you,” she murmurs finally, and though she doesn’t mean for it to come out as a bit of an entendre, she doesn’t regret her wording; even in the low light of the late sunset, she can see his eyes darken. “Won’t he notice eventually, though, if you stay gone for very long? And it’s getting dark…”

“If I can borrow your phone, I can text him,” he explains. “I don't have any service but you do somehow. I guarantee he’ll use the wifi in our car to check his phone before he goes to bed, so he’ll get it eventually.”

She nods and unlocks her phone for him. “How do you have service out here, actually?” he asks as he types out a new message.

“My brother,” she answers, entranced by the way his thick fingers fly across the keyboard of her phone. “Being a firefighter, he gets to be on this plan for first responders where he gets first access to a bigger network in case he’s in the middle of nowhere on a call or in a crowd during an emergency or something. I was able to sign on with his account and get all the benefits of it.”

Grayson looks up at her, surprised, and smirks when he hands her phone back to her. “Wow, a firefighter? So he could probably kick my ass if he wanted, huh?”

MJ laughs. “Normally I would say yes, but somehow I think you've got a solid 20 pounds of muscle on him, even though he's a little taller than you,” she admits.

She finally can’t resist anymore and runs her right hand over a bicep that is truly bulging right beneath the edge of his shirt sleeve, and allows herself to take in unabashedly the way the fabric stretches across his wide shoulders, his defined pecs…fuck, he’s sexy.

He swallows hard and she looks up at him. For the second time that night, the intensity of his gaze stuns her into silence and stillness.

When he ducks his head to meet her lips with his, however, her insides are screaming and the hand not clutching his arm travels to grip the front of his shirt, then the short hairs at the back of his neck.

More cliches, but it’s a perfect first kiss — soft but intense, not too much tongue but just enough as it deepens. MJ sighs into his mouth, deciding she would be perfectly content to do this with him forever despite the fire now lit within her at his touch that has her body begging for more.

It could have been a few seconds or a few hours that they stand there entwined with one another, but eventually they part, eyes closed and breaths panting heavily in the minimal space between them. The longer she isn’t distracted by his lips, the longer she stands there trying not to overthink things.

But the beauty of what this trip has been — what Grayson has been — for her is that it was the opposite of overthinking; it was instinctual, impulsive, and honest. In short, her motto had been ‘fuck it.’

Her green eyes open and lift to his hazel ones. “Grayson,” she whispers, “we’re telling secrets tonight, right?”

“Right,” he replies just as breathlessly.

She swallows past a small lump as an inexplicable rush of emotion hits her.

Fuck it.

MJ’s hands cup his angular jaw and she forces herself to keep eye contact with him. She takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m not into drama and feelings and fairytale shit. But I like you. I really like you, way more than I should considering we’re basically strangers, which fucking scares me. And even though I barely know you, I trust you for some reason. I just…need you to tell me if you feel kind of the same, or if this is starting to feel like too much now that I’m putting my thoughts out there. Because my gut is telling me this is mutual, but we can both walk away now and write it off as a crazy, whirlwind thing in the desert. I go in my tent, you go in yours, and we never see each other again.”

Her words come out in a rush, her last sentence almost painfully so. She also suddenly considers the idea that maybe he’s only using her as a fun story to tell his friends about, the pretty girl he met in the desert, wooed by his charm and good looks into her tent, only to be ghosted by him the next day.

Maybe the uncertainty in her life is leading her to be too impulsive with her wants and desires right now.

Maybe she’s starting to overthink things.

Grayson catches his lower lip with his teeth and mimics the position of her hands with his own. His thumbs brush the ridges of her mandible and his long fingers overlap at the back of her neck, scratching lightly. Despite herself, she could have purred at the sensation, almost does when it’s combined with that of his lips brushing hers tenderly.

“MJ,” he says lowly, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m not a fuckboy, I promise; like I said earlier, if all I wanted was a warm body beside me, I could have that in a second. What’s so hard for me is to find someone who's not after clout or money or anything that comes along with being in the social media space. Almost every girl I’ve talked to in the last couple of years has been attracted to one of those aspects of my life, not me. Once I find that out, no matter what they look like, I’m never interested in being in the same room as them, let alone in a relationship with them. I can tell you don't give a shit about any of that, and I love it. I love how funny, genuine, and kind you are. I love how naturally, absolutely gorgeous you are. That’s what I look for, that’s all I go for, and you’re all of it.”

Holy fuck, how is this guy real? It’s like he could read her mind. Her thumb tugs on his lower lip and he takes that as his cue to kiss her thoroughly again.

“Promise me now, then,” she huffs when they break apart, “no matter what happens tonight, we try to stay friends, at least, tomorrow.”

“Deal,” he agrees with a grin.

MJ bites her lip and smirks up at him. “How about we, uh, keep sharing secrets in my tent?”

Grayson raises his brow, his smile widening. “It is getting a little chilly out here.”

#this might have originally been written w smut #but i wasn't sure if i wanted it to be official #should i post it as like a continuation?#hmm #dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan oc #grayson mj

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ohnoyoonoh · 5 years ago

Text

PREVIEW of PHILIA & EROS

author -; @ohnoyoonoh

genre. au -; highschool au, based on/inspired by the movie. the half of it. coming of age.

pairing -; lee jeno x oc, huang renjun x oc, jeno x oc x renjun, renjun x jeno (ish)

synopsis -; a story of where someone asks a writer to write them a love letter for the girl they like except the writer likes this girl, too. it's an adventure of lessons in friendship and first love with renjun, jeno, and hwayoung in the town of dalgleish, oregon.

author’s note -; sneak peek into my upcoming story with jeno and renjun. i was actually very passionate in this story. this is the first story in a while that will be tagged with networks, yayyy lol lmk if you wanna be part of the taglist

warnings -; love triangle, strong language, minor bullying, whole story includes touches on sexuality, touches on sex but not committed, underage drinking and drug use, mention of minor character death (renjun’s mom), kissing, long ass story lemme tell you that

word count -; (preview) 4.8k and it’s only the beginning

Love. Love certainly comes in different forms. According to C.S. Lewis, there are four types that people focus on: Storge, Philia, Eros, and Agape. Omitting agape as many do not believe in the Christian faith, the other three simply play a role in everyone’s upbringing whether they notice the existence of these loves in their life or not. Following the words of Lewis, we would be obliged to love every single day without a choice whether it’s to us or seeing it with others. We see love wherever we go. But in this society, do we really know what love is? Love is not as straightforward as we thought it would be unlike adding and subtracting in math. Love is strange but whatever the perspective by the person, it could also be the most beautiful thing in the world.

And that is not how you write a world-class essay to make you pass an honors class.

Huang Renjun began to press the backspace of the conclusion to the last essay he needed to write for the English class. It wasn’t his essay that he was writing but one that was in his queue of his homework services. The list was stacked with requests of the take on C.S. Lewis’s Four Loves for Mrs. Lee’s Junior English Honors class, but the teacher could care less that the students cheated in the class in the peewee town of Dalgleish in the state of Oregon.

Dalgleish didn’t have much except for the Pretty Douglas Fir trees decorated around the boundaries of the town. It was fitting as the Dalgleish basically meant green field. There weren’t many open fields but looking at the town from above, the amount of trees make it look like a green space. That was one of the things that Renjun enjoyed seeing, the nature that the town offered. It was calming, least to say. Losing himself into the natura was a good getaway from the extensive labor he needed to do to support him and his family. His family consisted of his father and younger sister, Mei. His mother passed away due to breast cancer when Renjun was thirteen and Mei was ten.

That was the reason why he started his business of the homework services, but it also extended into adding more part time jobs to continue a decent salary for a high school student. His father never asked him to do any of these jobs because he never wanted to overwork Rejnun and his sister during high school. He wanted to make sure that they could focus primarily on their school work and occasional side jobs to include in their résumés and transcripts. Though due to the passing of his wife, he wasn’t able to commit to his computer science career and waived off the successful path to enter a minimum wage job.

Renjun understood the reason for his father’s lack of working, which is why he stepped up a little more than a teenager should carry on their shoulders. He loved his family too much to not do so. Which is why, he was checking off the list of names on his queue for the homework that needed to be handed that day.

Zhong Chenle

Eleanor Lee

Amie Quill

Wong Yukhei

Eugene Mills and the list going on.

He calculated the amount that was due and the total, making sure that no one paid him less. He didn’t mind if someone paid more, as it would be beneficial to any extra expenses that needed to be paid off. “$20 per essay, mm.. $200. That should be enough to cover the water bill and the groceries.”

Mei nodded, writing the total on the sticky notes that littered all over the mirrored wall. The wall full of sticky notes for the week logging any needed tasks to be finished. Wherever there weren’t any sticky notes were old pictures of the family and memories in their upbringing or new polaroid pictures of Renjun and Mei. It was a nice reminder of the moments that were captured in the midst of the hard every days.

“Hey, uh, Renjun, I was wondering if I could go to homecoming?” Mei questioned, breaking the silence as Renjun revised the to-do lists while editing his own essay. He forgot to do so since the amount of requests to do their homework was unbelievable. The only downside of the homework service was that everyone requests last minute. “Renjun.”

“Sorry, I forgot to do my homework,” he snapped his head up, letting his sister know that she had his undivided attention. Mostly. “Uh, what did you ask?”

“I was just asking if I could go to homecoming, I’ll even work extra hours to pay for my dress. I’ll even pick up some of the homework in your requests,” Mei pleaded, not verbally but through her eyes. Renjun stared at her, wondering if she was serious. It wasn’t uncommon for freshmen to attend high school events, especially someone like his sister. Mei was and still is the type of person to enjoy the events that school offers. It was the perfect opportunity to spend time with her friends and escape the hours of working. That was what Renjun recalled during their late night talks as they pleated the dumplings for their lunches for the rest of the week.

“Renjun, stop spacing out,” Mei shook his shoulder, seeing if it would wake him up out of his trance.

“Uh, yeah yeah. You can help me with some of the homework and take over my shift for the next two days at the library, is that okay?” Renjun offered. He knew he would have felt bad if he said no. Knowing his sister, she would either give up on working and not get a new dress, or give up working and not going to homecoming all together.

Mei agreed, nodding her head profusely and quickly embracing her brother. Renjun stood there, reluctantly wrapping his arms around her. Mei rarely showed affection to him which is why he seemed so surprised at the actions. Nonetheless, he appreciated the love. God. Love. Love. Love. His essay. His eyes widened, releasing from the grasp of his sister, “Crap, I need to finish the last paragraph of my essay.”

The sound of the alarm ringing through the kitchen, notifying the Huang siblings that it was time for them to head to school. Renjun groaned, wanting to bang his head against the wall. He shoved the folder with the homeworks that he finished inside of his backpack while tossing Mei her lunch. He grabbed the pen that hung off of the wall, checking off the sticky note that was made a week before to remind him of the work to do. Renjun rechecked everything once more to be certain that he hadn’t skipped over anything. Assuring himself that he didn’t miss anything, he grabbed the keys of his dad’s car and made his way out the door. Before exiting the house, his dad seemed to be missing from his usual spot on the couch but knew he was home due to his shoes still at the door.

“Mei, is dad still home?” Renjun questioned as he sat on the floor to put his shoes on. Mei turned around to face her brother and nodded, “He’s taking a shower and already made his food.”

Renjun nodded, slinging his backpack over his shoulders to adjust the straps as he wore it, “Are you ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready, I don’t know about you,” Mei sarcastically retorted. Renjun scoffed, standing up and opening the door to allow his sister to go out first. As they walked outside to get to the car, Renjun playfully kicked her leg causing her to quickly turn around to punch him. He quickly ran to the car to escape her wrath.

“Alright, I’ll see you later. Don’t forget your shift at the library,” the male informed his sister as they both entered the school. Mei groaned but nodded, saying goodbye to her brother as she parted ways to join her friends. Now, Renjun was stuck to being a high class loner for the rest of the day. He never made any friends, well ones that didn’t last long. Though he was content with that. It was better than having ones that would backstab you or talk behind your back. For being a small town, Dalgleish didn’t have much to offer with people. So, people created their own drama. Luckily in all of the Huang siblings’ time in Dalgleish, they never had any mentions of being in drama. They only were the butt of the joke of their low-class dad, but Mei and Renjun never paid attention, so the joke died before it was even alive. That belonged to the top of the hierarchy in their school. But, Renjun could care less about them and rather focused on his studies and jobs.

“Here is yours and Chenle’s homework,” Renjun flipped through the countless essays in the folder, handing Lucas the needed homework.

“Ahh, thanks, let me send you the money now. I’m also paying for Chenle’s, just in case you wonder why there’s extra,” Lucas pulled his phone out to send the money through the Venmo app.

Feeling his phone buzz, Renjun took his phone out to check that the amount was correct. Confirming that it was right, well it was actually over. Chenle and Lucas were always kind enough to pay extra. They always said it was just for the hard work that he gives since they were his first customers and the growth of the services. “Thanks, Lucas.”

Lucas smiled before heading his way for his class. After he left, Renjun continued to make his way to all of the students that needed their work for the day. He scheduled different locations and times around the school to make sure that his contraband work wasn’t known to the faculty of the school. The only one who knew was their English and Physics teachers. Mrs. Lee and Dr. Jean.

Mrs. Lee immediately knew that the essays by the students in her class weren’t written that perfectly. The growth from one essay to another seemed to be developed overnight. Not trying to question her students, they were bright but most that had the perfect scored work weren’t the brightest. Knowing this, Mrs. Lee found out after give and take, she realized that the work was by Renjun. To let him know that she knew, she asked to conference with him after class. The only thing that Renjun grasped from the conversation is that she blatantly called her students stupid when it came to essays. Renjun agreed but defended them that they were smart in other areas and needed to strengthen their levels in the writing department.

And for Dr. Jean, he just didn’t care.

“So, who’d you write for this time? I just don’t wanna read the essays to waste my time to give them A’s,” Mrs. Lee sat in her chair, sipping on her cup of coffee as she watched Renjun pack his stuff up so he could attend his next class.

He dismissed his teacher’s comment, placing his essay on her desk, “I’ll give you a list later. Oh, I also need a recommendation from my favorite teacher.” He smiled, setting a blank recommendation letter for the college he’s applying to on her desk.

He watched her scan over the document, only for her face to scrunch up in disgust. He reflected her expression with his own face, confused as to why she looked repulsed, “What is it now?”

“I don’t know, you could have chosen a better school with your grades and get in,” she tossed the paper into her neat stack before grabbing the essays and shelving it.

Renjun shrugged, knowing that the reason is that he was afraid to leave his sister and dad. More so, his sister. He didn’t want to leave all of the responsibilities to his sister. To delve even farther, the responsibility of taking care of their father. He wasn’t sure if Mei was ready to do it. A lot of people may wonder why he even thinks of his father, but his dad was still family. Their dad may not be in the best state and not pulling his weight as the head of the family, but he still worked every so often. Their dad was lucky enough to be friends with the owner of his job, and the owner understood the hardships that he was going through. The consequence of his lack in effort fell on his children.

“I just think it would be better if you attend some other college, maybe, I don’t know,” Mrs. Lee retrieved another document on a clipboard, handing it to him.

He grabbed the clipboard, wondering what it was. An application to University of Oregon. He laughed, tearing his eyes away from it to look out the window. She’s still trying to do this. He gave the clipboard back, “I can’t go to this university. It’s not even that good.”

“It was good to me,” Mrs. Lee gave him a hall pass on a sticky note before waving him off to allow him to get to his next class.

“Well, I’m passing and staying in the best town in the world,” he waved as he walked out of the class.

Renjun pondered on the idea of leaving Dalgleish, but would it be the right decision. Everything he needed was right here. There could be a great job opportunity when he graduates from the community college. Well somewhere and that somewhere is not in Dalgleish. He was going to have to move out of the town one way or another if he wanted to pursue his dream of becoming a computer scientist. Maybe, he could find a way to come back to Dalgleish, opening a company would be beneficial. That was settled on a maybe. For now, all he needed to do was pass junior year and move onto senior year.

Making his way inside of the physics classroom, he showed the pass to Dr. Jean, only for it to be dismissed. He took his seat next to the window in the back. With the lack of care that his teacher had in the class, Renjun worked on the next requests of his services.

“Renjun, you’re working with Isabelle,” his teacher declared. Renjun picked up his head so fast, wondering as to why there’s suddenly a project. He was always informed beforehand in the beginning of the semester of what’s to come, but he came to realize Dr. Jean was the best teacher at coming up with random projects. Renjun just nodded, clearing his backpack from the chair next to him allowing Isabelle to sit it in.

Isabelle gave him a head bow, greeting him, “Hi. I’m Isabelle but you could just call me Hwayoung. You probably already knew that. I can’t believe Dr. Jean still calls me Isabelle, probably because he can’t pronounce half of our names.”

Renjun chuckled, shutting his computer off to place back in his backpack. He picked two of the copies of the paper before tossing the extra copies inside of the extra copy bucket that was behind him. He handed the paper to Hwayoung before reading the document. Seeing it was the project, his mouth contorted to a form of disappointment in finding the surprise assignment. The project didn’t even have anything to do with physics but basically getting to know your partner and put it in a PowerPoint. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or laugh. He glanced in Hwayoung’s direction: Pretty. Pretty. Popular.

Choi Hwayoung. The ideal girl that anyone could ask for. She was nice and smart. She was one of the pretty girls of the school, and everyone knew that. Renjun liked her when he joined the Model UN team, and she was also on it. He thought that she was also smart when she stood her ground during the time of Model UN. He wished he could have stayed longer as he enjoyed it, but his sister wasn’t all that capable when he had to leave for a competition once. Despite thinking the basic reasons for him liking her, he liked how she smiled and her dimples just protruded. Her eyes were full of life when debating. How she spun her pen between her fingers when she was in focus. Renjun, tone your feelings down.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he still liked her due to the lack of attention he gave his own feelings.

“Oh right, my name is Renjun,” he whispered as Dr. Jean ranted on another go of the conspiracy theories of the Illuminati and Beyoncé . His teacher always made the time in class go by faster or slower depending on how dedicated he is to the conspiracy topic. Some were more interesting than others. He looked over to her writing, “I think you knew that already.”

“Yeah, I did. You were on the Model UN team but left, you were really good at what you did,” Hwayoung complimented him. He smiled, nodding as his way of accepting the praise.

The small talk ceased as the bell rang for dismissal, he collected his items and shoved them into his backpack. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, “I’ll do the project and turn it in when it’s finished.”

“But this is a two person project. I am not asking for your homework service to come in play here,” Hwayoung turned to look at him. “Maybe, we could just actually do it together. Unless you don’t want to because you’re uncomfortable to do that which then do the project by yourself, just text me if you need anything.”

With that, she smiled and left. Renjun watched her leave the classroom. That was a first. Typically any project with partners left Renjun to do the work all by himself, which he didn’t mind. Most complain that they had to do it by themselves, but he enjoyed the easy A without the others messing it up.

The final school bell rang, but Renjun was already in the car, waiting for his sister. He hummed to the music, tapping to the tunes of Ariana Grande’s Dangerous Woman album. His head turned to the door opening, and his sister joined him in the car already singing the song. Renjun turned down the volume, “Ready?”

She nodded while buckling up her seatbelt. Renjun placed the car in reverse, only for a student to be waving a paper trying to get his attention. He wasn’t paying attention, trying to get Mei to work on time was his priority.

As he continued to reverse the car, he still hadn’t noticed the student until Mei tugged on his jacket. He slammed on the breaks, finally seeing the student waving the paper around in the rear-view mirror. He almost ran over him. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to come to a compromise in his head that he almost committed homicide by accident, “What the hell?”

The male student walked around from the rear of the car before going around to the driver’s side. He knocked on Renjun’s window before Renjun rolled the window, “Why were you in my way?”

“You almost killed me. Shouldn’t you feel a little empathetic?” The student smiled with a teasing tone in his voice.

“If you have nothing important, I will be going now,” Renjun put the car in drive, starting to press on the acceleration pedal. He still wanted to know what the student wanted, but it was probably just another order for homework help. “If you want me to do your homework, find my number and text me.”

“I want you to help me write a love letter. I read your essay for Lucas, and it was really good,” the student requested, holding the note out. Renjun slammed on the brakes once again, but this time, Mei slapped her brother in the shoulder for the discomfort of their backs hitting the seats so harshly. He looked at her with an apologetic expression before his gaze turned back to the student.

The student held the note at the window, which Renjun started to read.

Dear Choi Hwayoung.

The first three words were enough for Renjun to decide if he was going to help this fool or not. He shoved the letter back into the hands of the requester, “Nope, I’m not writing a love letter to Hwayo- to her.”

“Oh, to who?” Mei pitched in. Love always made people curious, well more nosy. Then, the ideas of who ends up with who just turned into a big mess. Renjun certainly didn’t want to help someone out that wanted to create a love letter. Plus if he was the recipient of a love letter, he hoped it wasn’t made by someone that didn’t have feelings for the person. Or in Renjun’s case, written by the person’s personal feelings. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be genuine. Artificial. Unauthentic. Fake. Love isn’t supposed to be any of those things if a person wants to make it work.

“No one, Mei.” Renjun answered before he turned back to the student, “Have a good day.” He rolled the windows back up and continued to drive away to his priority. He looked in the mirror once more to find the student sulking with his head down. He chuckled. That’s so pathetic.

“Hey, you could have totally picked that request up. That was Lee Jeno,” Mei tapped away on her phone as she informed him of who the student was. Renjun scoffed, but he also was unsure why the name of the student is relevant. Customers are customers. There’s no needed relationship as it’s based on monetary and satisfaction of getting work done. Mei looked at her brother who stayed silent, and she was sure that he had no clue who Jeno was. She raised her eyebrow, “Do you not know who Lee Jeno is?”

“Do I care? Mm.. Not really,” he didn’t really care about who Jeno was. He rarely cared about any of the people in the school, as they weren’t his business. He wanted to stay out of anyone’s mouths as much as possible. Renjun thought of who Jeno was because he did sound familiar. They lived in a small town, so everyone knew most of each other. Dalgleish compromised mostly of East Asians, but nonetheless it still had a good variety of other ethnicities. It shouldn’t be hard to think of who Jeno was. Ah, he’s the boy who used to live four houses down when they were younger before the downfall of the Huangs came about. Jeno would try to invite them to play often with the other kids in the neighborhood, but Renjun was shy at the time, and Mei wasn’t the one who enjoyed company. Though that did start to change as they grew older. Renjun wasn’t shy, just liked to keep to himself to stay out of trouble, and Mei enjoys the energy with people.

“Jeno is the star student of the school, more like the perfect Asian kid. He plays the violin, ping-pong captain, forward for soccer, and is part of A Honor Roll,” Mei listed all of the things that Jeno specialized in. Renjun listened but wasn’t in awe of the achievements that Jeno had. Most of the kids in the school participated in those activities, differing in sports and academics. Everyone had their own skill set to show off, which made Jeno not any different from the student body.

“Okay, what does that have to do with me?” Renjun questioned, stopping at the red light. He wasn’t sure what his sister was making in her brain. She was most likely going to lose track of where she was heading to prove a point.

“Plus, he banks and his parents have this IT company in California. So if you help him, he could probably get you to return in favor by getting you an internship,” Mei added onto her tracks. She sure did make a point. That was a first. Renjun surely could land a job if he gets an internship, but he didn’t want to use someone like that. He wanted to do it on his own.

“Yeah, no. I refuse to do that,” Renjun pressed his foot down on the gas pedal, accelerating the car as the light switched to green.

“How come? It’s a good opportunity, I’m just saying,” Mei said as she shuffled around in her seat, adjusting her jacket.

“Well, I don’t want to use someone like that. I want to get there on my own, no matter how hard it is. I have a plan to get there,” Renjun answered. He arranged his future’s timeline, coming up with the desired plan. He thought of Plan B, just in case the first one didn’t work. Then, he had his safety plans just in case nothing of his wants couldn’t come to reality.

Mei answered with a hum. Renjun was glad that she didn’t continue the conversation. He parked next to the curb in front of the library and turned off the engine. He decided to study at the library. He didn’t have much to do today other than making dinner and finishing the rest of the requests that he didn’t assign to his sister. Plus, the library offered free food and beverages to their workers. And, who doesn’t like free food?

“Your shift ends at 7, which is perfect. I’ll be in my usual section, working and studying if you need anything,” Renjun said as he left his sister as they entered the downtown library. He walked towards the Japanese literature section, quietly greeting some of the regular goers that he recognized. Living in Dalgleish, he picked up quite a few languages. He was surrounded by multiple ethnicities who differed in languages and to benefit the elderly who weren’t comfortable using English, he thought it would be nice to learn their native language. Plus, there were foreigners who came frequently to visit the town. It was like a tourist attraction, sometimes. Even if there wasn’t anything to see in the town.

Renjun was only fluent in Mandarin Chinese and Korean, but he was conversational in other languages like Cantonese and Japanese. He tried to make the effort, plus his world geography class had an extra credit opportunity to explore languages. Despite not seeming to be a people person at school, Renjun was able to converse easily with others when he was out and about. He often got teased by his sister for it because he always said he was not a people person.

He placed his belongings on the ground, unpacking his laptop, and plugging the charger in the outlet to refuel the laptop’s battery. Putting his earphones in to enjoy his music, he bopped his head a little to the beats. Renjun checked his list if he had any new requests. He wanted to know if Jeno asked for one with his love letter. That’s so stupid. Love letters are supposed to be personal. He’s such a dumbass.

“Hey.” came out of nowhere. Renjun jerked in his chair a little, even if he had earphones, he didn’t blast it just in case someone asked him about anything in the library. He still was a worker there, even if he wasn’t working. He thrived off of a busy schedule. He didn’t thrive off on being startled.

He whipped his head to the person who peeked over his shoulder, almost throwing his hands around if it wasn’t in a public place or at least a library. He saw the same boy from earlier, only this time in neater clothes. Jeno was wearing his athletic warm-ups when he was at the school. Renjun just blinked his eyes before shaking his head and getting back to his laptop, “You’re in a library, look through some books for inspiration for your love letter. Good luck to you and bye.”

“Oh come on, I’m not the best at words and expressing my feelings. Can you just at least read it and revise?” Jeno asked, moving a chair from another table to sit with Renjun. The ping-pong star received hushes from those around him, causing both Renjun and Jeno to have apologetic looks to them.

Renjun shook his head, “No. No way.”

“I’ll pay you extra from what your highest price is. I’ll pay you even more for authenticity,” Jeno pulled his phone out. Renjun peeked over at Jeno’s screen to see his website page with the costs of the homework papers. He thought about the extra costs. He possibly could buy his sister’s dress for homecoming, so she could keep her money from work and spend it on makeup and other necessities to get ready for school events. It was a good idea, but Renjun wasn’t the best at even expressing feelings and whatnot.

“I’ll give you $100 for this one letter,” Jeno offered.

“Alright, sold.”

47 notes · View notes