Nico sat up in bed, breathing heavily from the continuous nightmares. Beads of sweat lined his lip. A pair of hands trembled by Nico's side. He sighed, pushed his tousled hair back with his hand, and heaved himself out of bed.
Sun was peeking through the black curtains, which reminded Nico of Will. It was winter break, and both Nico and Will had chosen to leave camp. That was proving to be the wrong decision as Nico rose to slip on Chuck Taylor Converse shoes and brush his teeth.
As Nico glared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed that dark bags were under his eyes. The nightmares and not being able to sleep with Will were taking a toll on not just Nico's mental health, but also his physical well-being.
Just as he was losing his train of thought, Nico perked up when he heard the doorbell ring. He dropped his old toothbrush into a red solo cup and hurried over to the door, dragging his socked feet on the floor. It was so quiet that Nico could hear mice scuttling in the floorboards, the walls, even the ceiling. He had rented a small apartment in New York City for winter break, and the joint had a two out of five star rating on , Nico's favorite hotel search website.
The door creaked as he pulled it open, revealing a pile of mail on the stained hallway carpet. Nico swept the mail off the floor and slammed the beige door shut, hoping that Mrs. Jones next door wasn't home. The first envelope was addressed to Nicholas di Angelo, with a purple Time Warner Cable logo on the corner. Nico sighed. He watched too much Walking Dead.
Turning around, Nico walked two steps to his kitchen. A trash bag was tied to a cabinet, overflowing with banana peels, moldy cheese, and cable bills. As he threw another in the bag, Nico glanced at the next envelope. It glistened in the dim light, with the sparkly word 'Concert' on it, from William Solace.
Will's eyes darted from his flute case, half open, to the empty envelope, to the blank card, to the Sharpie in his hand. His roommate, Theo, stood holding the refrigerator door, peering at the mound of pears, apples, and oranges that Will always bought. Theo's side of the fridge contained packs of raw bacon, cheese, and cartons of rocky road ice cream.
"Who 'ya writin' a letter 'chu?" Theo whipped his head around and the fridge door shut silently, slowly.
Will rolled his eyes. "Theo, have you been drinking again?"
"Nah," Theo pulled out a chair from the table and plopped down heavily, facing Will. "Again- who are you writing a letter to? You know, you can just text or somethin'."
Will fought back the urge to tell Theo that he couldn't use technological means of communication. "I'm writing to my girlfriend, uh, Nikki." he pushed back his gel-ridden hair with his hands. "She likes letters."
"I did not know you had a girlfriend."
"Well, yep."
"Ya know, the urban dictionary meaning for Nikki is hot."
"Oh, really?" Will pulled the cap off of his Sharpie and used it to write on a piece of lined paper. The wet ink squeaked against it. That's probably the only meaning of a word that he knows, Will thought without regret.
His thoughts were overcome as he began to write faster, his knuckles gripping the Sharpie like it was the handle of his bow. Dear Nico. No. Dear Nicholas di Angelo. Too formal. Hey, honey. Too informal.
Dear Nico,
I know it's been a couple of weeks since we've exchanged letters. So, I have a proposal. The orchestra that I perform with is having a concert on January 16th, 2015. It's at Carnegie Hall. Yeah, so it's pretty important! I have to be there at 6:30 pm; the performance is at 7:00. Maybe we could get there around 5:00, grab a bite to eat beforehand, and you can watch? There's a ticket already enclosed in this envelope, because I know that you have nothing better to do than come to this. And, yes, I am assuming that you will come.
Don't forget to dress snazzy! I realize that you're not the flamboyant type of gay guy, but can you try? Just for one night? For me? Don't worry, I will be dressed in a nice tux for the occasion. Basically that means wear anything BUT a tux.
You must know that I love you very much. It's been hard to see that these past weeks. We're like magnets, or at least that's how I feel. I can't wait to see you.
Love,
William Solace
Will set the Sharpie down, twisted the cap on, and sighed. The letter sitting in front of him definitely wasn't his best literary work, but he ignored it and stuffed it into the envelope, along with a cardstock ticket.
Later, Will sat at his desk, gazing at the computer screen. His nimble fingers typed the name Nikki into the Urban Dictionary search bar.
Quite possibly the cutest, sweetest, and most attractive girl you'll ever meet. Not only is she pretty and hot, but she has great intellectual insight and is all around a perfect person. No matter what she does, you could never get mad at her. When you see her pictures, her smile, her eyes, you feel not only turned on, but content. Content because you know that she is everything you could ask for.
Will tried his best to contain his laughter and snorting by covering his mouth with his hand. His eyes darted to the old chartreuse futon, where Theo was sprawled on the pillows, asleep. Then, Will typed in the name Nico.
An amazingly sexy, funny, exciting, ambitious, sweet guy. He is a bit of a hard egg to crack, but once he feels close to you, he will open up and allow you to feel his warm heart instantly. He is very loyal and generous. He would do anything for those he loves. If you meet a Nico, consider yourself very lucky because he is a keeper.
Amazingly sexy. Yep, definitely Nico.
Nico stared at his boyfriend's words at the page in disbelief. Carnegie Hall? Him? He paced around his bedroom, glancing into the mirror every so often. Once he finished reading the letter, he looked up at the reflection of himself. He was wearing a baggy t-shirt with a band on it that he didn't like anymore. His grey jeans were excessively ripped at the knees to the point of being shorts. His jet black hair was tousled across his forehead in a way that implied that Nico didn't brush his hair. He did not brush his hair.
"Wow," he muttered. "I'm gonna need to spruce myself up for Carnegie Hall."
January 16th was the next day. Nico ironically decided to mess with Will and go shopping for a tuxedo at the local thrift shop.
"Yes, I'm looking for a tuxedo?" Nico inquired. The drunken lady behind the counter let her mouth hang open.
"We don't have 'em." she whipped her head towards Nico, eyes rolling. As Nico left the dim lit Goodwill Community Foundation in agitation, he figured that it would be okay to wear his suit leftover from eighth grade graduation.
Will stood in the empty audience of Carnegie Hall. Only a couple lights were on, and the stage was bare. However, Will marveled in the beauty of the vast space, the curves of the interior balconies, intricate designs carved onto columns, and the sheer greatness of it all. He held his flute case, hands turned white with anxious sweat.
"Well, well, well," Will turned, seeing Nico stride onto the stage from a side door. "Am I late?" Nico was dressed in a suit. The pants were about an inch too short, but his blazer fit perfectly, paired with a black shirt and a brilliant azure tie.
"No, you're-" Will glanced at his watch. "-just on time." he grinned, beaming at Nico on the stage. "Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it."
Nico took a giant leap from the stage, landing perfectly on his feet. They then took him quickly toward Will, embracing him. Will gasped.
And they kissed. It was a moment of reunion, a moment of true love, devotedness, infatuation, affection, and annoyance.
Suddenly, the echo of a door slamming shut jolted the couple out of their embrace.
Will's conductor strutted into the room, struggling along with a pile of music stands, sheet music, and extra oboes. His hair was sticking up in weird places, and the collar on his tuxedo was upturned. "Will? Are you making out in Carnegie Hall?"
Nico grunted as Will straightened his posture. "Yes, sir, I was making out with my boyfriend in this highly inappropriate setting. I will do better next concert."
Nico smirked, and he could feel his cheeks reddening. He loved it when Will made everything technical.
"So, you're gay?"
Will nodded. Nico wanted to slap his forehead in frustration, but he held back.
"That's actually really cool!"
"Thanks…?"
The director turned towards Nico. "And you are?"
"Hi, I'm Nico." he reached towards the disheveled man with his hand, but, unfortunately, the conductor's hands were full. He made eye contact with the man for a second, then rapidly glanced away.
"Um, so, Will and I were going to head to Chipotle for some dinner." Nico said, scratching a mole on his neck.
"Chipotle?" Will turned, his flute knocking against his knees. "I despise Mexican cuisine."
The director looked at the ground, stuck in the middle of an argument. "How about Chic-Fil-A?"
"Too happy. Playground. Everyone says 'my pleasure'. Ugh." Nico scoffed. "I'm not even hungry."
"Well, I am." said the band director.
"Me too!" Will chimed in.
"There's a KFC down the street." Nico said, his last hope.
"Mmm, fried chicken." Will smirked, his azure eyes twinkling in the low light. "Sounds good."
"Ehhh, that's not for me. I'll just head over to Chipotle, and meet you back here in a couple minutes." said the conductor.
Nico strutted to the trash can, stuffing in his empty plate. Will stood on the street outside, arms folded, listening to his band director drone on about flats and sharps, chords and cats. Specifically, one named after the infamous Harry Potter.
"You're too feminine to be heterosexual." Will remarked, sneaking a wink at Nico.
"Well, as a matter of fact, I am straight. I am a normal human being." the man replied, crossing his arms. "I am also diligently aware of society's rules." he glared at Nico, eyes rolling over his poorly gelled hair and unironed slacks.
Nico's eyes widened. "Cool beans. How about this- you hit the road, and William and I-"
"Talk about sending letters to each other?"the band director inquired, raising his bushy eyebrows in suspicion.
"Nico," Will sighed. "Say hello to my roommate slash band director, Theodore Van Buren."
"Don't call me that!" Theo whined. "The name is Theo. And, yes, I am a direct descendant of our nation's eighth president, Martin Van Buren. He had killer sideburns." he leaned towards Nico. "By the way, Martin Van Buren is dead!"
"Oh my gosh." Nico had a blank look on his face. "I did not know that someone who lived in the late 1700s is now dead."
"Well, you do now."
"Look at the time!" Will declared meretriciously, gazing at an invisible watch on his wrist. "It's an hour until showtime."
After their gloriously delicious trip to Kentucky Fried Chicken, Nico let Will join his orchestra to warm up. Nico sat in the front row, glancing at the entrance doors nearly every few seconds. With widespread legs, dark eye circles, and zits, he felt as if he was a walking example of an adolescent demigod. Although, his hair was gelled to perfection, and however short, his suit was fairly stunning. Nico had nothing to worry about.
As audience members began coming into the auditorium, Nico felt his teeth clench. He scanned the crowd for that familiar mop of black hair followed by a curvy wave of blonde.
"Percy! Annabeth!" he vociferated across the room as he spotted them. Immediately after, he covered his mouth in embarrassment. "Sorry," he whispered to the grouchy old man seated next to him. The entire crowd whipped their heads toward the boy, and a hush fell across the room. Nico felt his cheeks redden.
Percy began speed walking towards Nico. "Dude," he whispered. "That's not how you act in Carnegie Hall."
"So sorry." he awkwardly stood up as he let Percy and Annabeth go to their seats.
STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO!