Hey! You guys frustrated yet? XD Hopefully not too much... (although the consensus seems to be YES and that Lily should be smarter than to fall for this bullshit, interrrresting interesting) but this chapter is more angst... BUT I promise you should be happy by the end :D Wahoo!
Also! Okay, so obviously I wrote this before the Taylor Swift news went public, so I mean no harm by this :) Also lots of credit to her for all her brilliant lyrics that I quote a whole bunch! 3
blckbnny: Haaaa omg YES, I'd forgotten about Burning Love :'D That show was HILARIOUS. Now I gotta go rewatch... Redmatter91: Well don't say that! (You know I love a good cliffhanger ;) Can't NOT have one!) Yes she DOES need to get it together. Luckily her epiphany is coming. AustenNi: Yes! Don't trust Michael. He's only gonna get worse... Woof. The worst. cscs01: Thank you 3 Just a phase indeed! Something might happen between those two... *hint hint nudge nudge* ;p HA, glad you also want to punch Michael. But his time will come :) Can't wait (lol) Scribonius4: Yay! You have come around to the hating Michael train! ;) "Better TV" indeed... Haaaa, they'll raise all the money with a shirtless James on the cover, I can tell you that much. I'd buy all the copies of whatever it is they're selling! (Did I ever even specify? Was it a calendar? LOL) Funny you say that bc I literally have in my notes, 'James should carry Lily somewhere. Jellyfish?' so get out of my head! (I hope I can make it happen!) Reserving judgement on biting her in a nonsexual setting though XD XD XD We will see Petunia again though! The family normally meets her final two men... heh heh heeeeh. PLEASE write me the long ones! I love them! I love hearing aaaall the thoughts you care to share! Definitely makes me giggle, so thank you! cherry: YOU ARE SO VERY RIGHT TO! I know he almost seems too comically villainy, but I swear ppl like him exist and somehow get away with it... so here he is! Ruining everything. More you shall have! And I'm also very happy you liked the photoshoot! Haha, that was fun! banrayar: I'm glad you have some sympathy for the whiplash Lily is experiencing, but still want to TELL HER TO DO BETTER. I think that's fair. Jily is imminent ;) (Can you believe I've held out this many chapters? Honestly, I can't. HA)
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Art work by the super talented blvnk-art (tumblr) aka potterbyblvnk (insta) Also... obviously Taylor Swift owns Taylor Swift and I am not (sadly) Taylor Swift :(
Week Three
James
How was he still here?
Was this hell? Purgatory? Some other dimension that people went to to die a most painful, drawn-out death?! At this point, James wanted Lily to put him out of his misery and send him home. Don't get him wrong, hanging out with Sirius and Remus was awesome, but sometimes he felt as though even they didn't want him there. Well, that wasn't fair: they didn't necessarily want him there when they were both there.
Waiting for Lily to come back to the guys' couch during his first group date cocktail party had been torture. Michael had come back first, a nasty smirk on his face, and right then and there James knew that he was in deep shit. It took Lily over an hour to reappear, and in that time the other guys had gotten bored and hit up the bar — all except for James, Remus, and Grift.
"What did you say to her?" James had asked. The longer she stayed missing, the more it dawned on him that Michael could simply lie to her with impunity. He could easily tell her whatever he wanted, and no one could stop him. James wasn't used to being one of multiple guys all trying to woe the same girl, but it was becoming increasingly obvious to him that this was a recipe for the ultimate jealousy disaster.
James didn't think he'd ever been in a pit with this many snakes before.
"Let's just say, you won't be able to sabotage me anymore, Potter."
James had scowled, pissed off beyond belief. Oh great. So the douche-nozzle has a degree in the art of projection. It wasn't like James could now turn around and point out that, actually, Michael was the one doing all the undermining and James had been minding his own business, simply trying to live his life and pursue a girl he liked. Who would believe James now that the provocateur had thrown out the accusation towards him first?
No one.
"Oh, and I told her you were violent and harassing me, so you might wanna keep those fists of yours in check." Michael tutted as he reached for his chalice. "Always balling them up. People might start to think that you're some sort of common hooligan if you don't watch out." He turned to Remus. "No offense."
James couldn't get over the lies. Sure, he could forgive people who went along with them blindly when they truly believed they were fighting the good fight against evil. He could understand that plight because at least it came from a good place and had good intentions. Some of the public who'd believed he was a misogynist for bringing the overdosing woman to the hospital had at least thought they were fighting sexism because of the way the story had been framed in the news. James knew people were human and made mistakes and he tried to give them the same civility and grace he wished they'd show him in return. But this? What Michael was doing? Blatantly cashing in on someone else's misfortune to get a leg up themselves just because they knew they could get away with it?
No. Just no.
Remus had put his hand on James' forearm to stop him from confronting Michael. "Don't," he'd warned. "He's not worth it." James had no idea how the man always kept his cool. It was such a great skill.
Too bad it was one James didn't possess. "You won't get away with this. She'll see right through you."
Michael spread his arms out wide over the back of the couch, sitting directly across the table from James as he propped one foot on his other knee. "You think? Why would she believe you over me? I mean, your reputation is already in tatters." His grin broadened. "It's not like I had to lie that much. She was already halfway there before I even said a damn thing about you."
"The truth will come out eventually," James said, willing it to be true as he pointed to all the cameras around them. "I don't know if you know this, but those things do in fact record everything you say."
Michael sneered at him. "Yes, but you'll have been pushed off the show long before then, won't you?" He looked so fucking relaxed. "And I'll have a great following, because everyone loves a sexy villain." He winked at James over the edge of his glass as he brought it to his thin lips. "It's too bad. You actually like the bitch, don't you?"
Remus had to physically yank James away at that point, before he could do anything moronic — like become exactly the man Michael wanted him to be by punching him in the (legitimately punchable) face. His blood still boiled just thinking about the past conversation.
When Lily had finally returned to the date, her eyes had been all blotchy and red, only multiplying the severity of James' ire. She doesn't deserve to be a pawn in Grift's evil scheme. She'd hastily given Michael the group date rose, thanked him for having her back, and then been whisked away by production — but not before she'd let Michael give her a hug. James didn't think he'd ever be able to forget the shite-eating smirk the complete arsehole had given him over Lily's shoulder as he held her close. As close as he knew that James wished he could hold her, even when he himself didn't.
Fucking bastard.
James wanted to protect Lily from this lying scumbag, but how the hell was he supposed to do that? His mum had always told him he couldn't save those who didn't wish to be saved — or he supposed in this case, shed light on those who were determined to live in the dark.
Things had only escalated from there. Tyler, one of the only decent men left at the mansion, had somehow caught wind of Grift's plot to oust James from the show and assured James that he'd stand up for him on his own group date. (How the guy had even found out about what had happened at a cocktail party that he hadn't been at was beyond James, because he was sure that neither he nor Remus had told him.) James had appreciated Tyler's support, but the only problem was, he had never been able to show it. The next day, when Lily had come to the mansion to pick up Silas for their one-on-one date, Michael had quickly asked for a word before escorting her away. When she'd returned, she'd been positively fuming, asking Tyler if it was true that he had a girlfriend.
"N-no?" the poor bastard had stammered.
Lily had crossed her arms imposingly, clearly not in the mood to be trifled with. "Are you sure? Because I suspect Felicia would say otherwise."
Tyler had looked around the room of men panicked. "Who's Felicia?" What else could he possibly say when he actually didn't have a girlfriend?
"I've never heard him talk about a Felicia before," James had tried to pipe up, but it turned out the defense of a marked man meant nil, because Lily had walked Tyler out shortly afterwards. All of the guys had remained completely silent, looking between Tyler and Michael with an increasing sense of foreboding. Michael's message had been clear: cross me, and you're next. He'd obviously wormed his way into Lily's trust, and he was not afraid to exploit the shit out of it.
"Bye Felicia," Michael chuckled, just loud enough for the guys to hear.
If James wasn't mistaken, he'd then seen a member of the crew give Tyler's former producer two fifty pound notes. James had to wonder if it was for a job well done in fabricating even more drama for the show.
Why the fuck does Remus always have to sleep in so late?! James had lamented. Surely he could have gotten through to Lily that Michael was manipulating her left and right now.
What the fuck is going on around here? And why couldn't Lily see through this colossal dick? Why couldn't she see that everything he was feeding her was utter bullshit? You've fallen for lies before too, mate, James begrudgingly reminded himself. Trusting the wrong people happens. You also believed in a best mate who apparently had been telling you whatever you wanted to hear for nearly a decade — all so he could sell you out later. The memory still pained him. James supposed that normal folks had a hard time wrapping their heads around the sociopathic tendencies of pathological liars.
And that's how James knew his time on the show was up.
Except it wasn't, because at the next rose ceremony Lily had called James' name last, even after avoiding him for the whole cocktail party that proceeded it. Hell, she still hadn't so much as looked his way since their moment on the couch during their date.
It was a real bummer because James had very much been hoping to warn her that perhaps she shouldn't trust her makeup artist. The pair seemed close, so why was she hitting on one of Lily's men? Did women play the same alpha dominance mind games that men did? James cringed internally. He couldn't even imagine what telling Lily that would look like. Probably a little something like, 'Wow, Potter. You think that EVERYONE loves you, don't you? You think you're so special that all women would DIE to kiss your feet! You're such a self-obsessed, narcissist toe rag!'
Yeah… maybe he'd keep his mouth shut on that particular developing situation.
So James had simply watched in stunned silence as Lily had called his name at the elimination ceremony, keeping her focus fully trained on the rose she was pinning to his lapel, her face carved of ice and giving nothing away.
"You okay?" he'd tried to whisper.
She'd ignored him.
So here he was, 27 years old and lying on the top bunk in a room with six other dudes, staring at the cracks in the ceiling and hoping they'd swallow him whole. In fucking purgatory.
Lily
This couldn't only be the third week. She felt like she'd aged three years in the past few days.
After hearing the truth about Potter — that he wasn't a monster but was still a jackass — she'd begged Petra, nearly gotten on her hands and knees if she hadn't already been crouched on a bathroom floor, to let her cut him loose. Unfortunately, her producer said her hands were completely tied with the show runner's demands.
That fucking, damn-fucked, good-for-nothing, no-nosed asshat!
Two more weeks. She could find a way to bear him for two more weeks. That's hardly any time at all. You can do this.
The end of her last week had been rough. After practically running away from the cocktail party that Potter was on, she had thought things couldn't get any worse. But then she'd found out that birds of a feather really do flock together, because the very same man that Potter had once told her was a 'good guy' turned out to have a secret girlfriend. Petra had warned her before they started filming that this could be the case, because they couldn't completely vet everything about everyone and sometimes cheating scumbags fell through the cracks. Is the prospect of selling tummy tea to thousands of new Instagram followers after we wrap really that enticing? Was it worth being exposed as a cuntbag for the whole country to see? Lily was so immeasurably grateful that she had Michael on her side to tell her the truth about what was secretly going on in the house. It was starting to feel like he was the only person brave enough to speak out.
So she'd done the only logical thing and cut Tyler. And then gone on a disastrous date with Silas to an escape room, where really, all she had wanted to do was escape him. So she'd dumped him too.
At the rose ceremony, she'd scrapped two more dudes, making Petra ask her, quite politely, if she could 'please slow the fuck down.' However, Lily was no longer in the mood. If they were forcing her to keep Potter and endure a group date where her men had attempted to perform standup (torture, truly), then she was going to have to reclaim her power another way. She was tired of pretending like she liked men that she didn't.
Lily was tired. She was just so, so very tired.
It's only week three.
"Okay, so you eliminated so many people last week that we have to switch over to the one group date and two one-on-ones format this week," Petra said to her clipboard as the two of them had breakfast in Lily's villa.
"Grand," Lily said blandly, both her legs up to her chest as she clutched her cup of tea with both hands.
If Petra noticed her mood, she didn't comment on it. "Who would you like for your two dates?" She flipped through her pages for the one containing the remaining contestants.
Lily huffed. "How about…" She chewed her lip. "Paul and Pete."
Petra gave her a side eye. "Okay, we can do that. We got the rage room date first; you want that with Paul?" She didn't pause for an answer. "Then the football group date." She touched Lily's shoulder. "Don't worry, I know you're supposed to start your period that day, so you don't have to play—"
Lily's neck nearly fell off her body with how fast she turned it. "What?" How did she know that?
Petra gave her a gentle smile. "Lily… it's my job to look out for you. That also means knowing when I need to pack you some extra chocolate." Lily wasn't sure if that was creepy or sweet. (She was leaning a bit closer to creepy.) "Do you need a PA to go fetch you some ibuprofen or any Tampons?"
Well, if they were talking about getting her period products, Lily supposed asking them about what she actually needed wasn't that embarrassing. "I'm good, but, weird question: have you seen my vibrator? I swear it was in my drawer and then last night…" she trailed off when she saw Petra's grimace. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, you're right. I should never have asked you that—"
"No, that's okay—"
"No, it's totally not. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, that's so—"
"No you didn't," Petra insisted. "It's just…" She shifted in her seat. "One of the other producers confiscated it."
"What?" Lily spat out, slamming her mug on the marble dining table in front of them. "What do you mean confiscated?" A million thoughts ran through her head. They went through my stuff? Did they already know I had one, or did they just assume? Oh fuck, are there cameras in my bloody room?
"Don't get mad—" too fucking late, buddy, "but the producer was ticked off you hadn't kissed any of his guys yet and…" Petra looked so, so squeamish. "He thought if you were hornier maybe you'd be more motivated to hook up with them."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Lily hissed. That had to be the most disgusting thing she'd ever heard in her life. "Couldn't you stop him?" The image of some dude riffling through her things and touching her toy made her stomach turn. "Which producer?"
Petra ignored the second question and answered the first. "No, unfortunately the show runner loved the idea. Couldn't stop laughing when he heard about it actually." That was it, Lily fully wanted to hurl. These men were discussing her pleasuring herself, as though it was any of their damn business, and mocking her. "Don't worry though! I'll make sure you get it back by the end of filming. Or at your fantasy suites if you'd like."
Lily gagged. "That's all right. He can keep it." Thank fuck Petra was on her side. Sometimes she really felt like her producer was the only person keeping her together through all this increasing madness. There were always so many moving parts to the show, and so many people with so many different jobs who Lily didn't want to distract or get in the way of — so it was a godsend to have someone completely dedicated to making sure she didn't feel so lost by her side. Petra kept her grounded, kept her focused. She knew what Lily wanted to gain out of all of this — knew she had a secret romantic side that she was dying to explore — and Lily had faith that Petra would help her get there.
Petra's eyes lit up as she went back to her clipboard, clearly remembering she had something that she thought would cheer Lily up. "Oh! I meant to give this to you earlier. Peta made their final selection on the portrait they liked the best." She yanked the print free and slid it down the table.
Lily looked at the photo like it was a ticking time bomb, making positively no move to grab it. What am I supposed to do with that? Because there, printed in brilliant color, was Lily and James, wrapped in each other's arms, a cheetah photoshopped sitting on either side of them. She didn't remember so possessively digging her nails into his pecs, but she did remember the way he'd been looking at her. She'd wondered if it had all been in her head, but it was even more clear in this photograph — he looked so fucking into her. His fingers were digging into the flesh of her back and thigh, looking like he never wanted to let go, but his eyes, his eyes, were piercing into her very soul, his jaw lax as though he was falling in love with her right then and there.
Either he was a truly spectacular actor, or… their feelings were mutual.
Now Lily was more confused than ever.
"What? You don't like it?" Petra asked. "I think you guys look hot!" She dug into her pocket for her eye drops, watering her eyes liberally as she muttered, "Damn allergies…"
Lily stopped staring at the photo lest she start loving it even more. "It's not that." She pulled the blanket that lay on the back of the chair over her shoulders, cuddling herself. "I just don't understand him."
"… I thought you didn't want to talk about it?" Petra said gently, an artificial tear rolling down her cheek.
She didn't. The only way production had gotten Lily out of that bathroom during the disastrous group date was by telling her she could just give out her group date rose and be done for the night. Petra had tried to push Lily to open up since, but she'd stonewalled her, too pissed off that Potter was still around. Striking him from her roster really felt like the only way she could rid herself of her feelings for the git, because ignoring his existence no longer seemed like a viable option. Every week, her pool of guys got smaller and smaller, which meant she had less and less suitors to distract herself with. Besides, it was almost like there could have been one thousand men in the room, and Lily would still only have been drawn to Potter. Like a moth to its sticky demise. I just don't get it. Like… why would he say all that stuff about me but then look at me like this? … And why do I still feel this way about him? Lily wished she didn't have to wait until the episodes aired months from now to see all the damning footage they had of him. She wished she could see it all now, with her own two eyes, so that her heart could have a clean break, which would hurt like hell, but at least it would no longer beat exclusively for him.
She felt so weak and stupid. She didn't want to be the gullible girl who was warned from the beginning that a dude was a walking red flag and still fell for him. She'd seen those girls before, been friends with them, and held them in her arms as they cried over these types of men over and over and over again.
Lily had contemplated asking one of the other guys about the situation — because after all, Michael had said that all the suitors agreed with him. Wouldn't it be nice to get some collaboration? However, Lily's skin crawled thinking about actually doing that. How would Lily feel if a guy she was dating asked her about one of the other girls he was dating? It would be so disrespectful, and Lily would immediately know that he cared more about the other girl than her. (Because if he really cared about me, why would what was happening with other girls even matter, right?) She didn't want to do that to a guy. It would be so fucking mean (even if what the guy deduced — that she cared more about Potter — would be correct).
Lily picked up her mug again. "I don't wanna talk about it," she sighed. She'd never been more ready to go to a rage room and bludgeon things into a million different pieces with a bat. "But… I have to ask… Would you tell me if someone on the show was evil?"
"That's really supposed to be your journey to discover as The Bachelorette, Lily." Petra's eyes remained trained on the clipboard. "I mean, we have to have villains. We wouldn't have a show if everyone was genuinely wonderful." She looked back at her. "But don't worry, we'll always try to give you some gentle nudges."
Well, that didn't make Lily nervous or anything.
Perhaps Petra could read the fear on her face, because she amended, "I think you're on the right path. Don't stress."
Lily took another sip of her tea. It was cooling off more by the second. "Good."
James
James wasn't sure if he'd ever been less excited to get on a bus in his life. It was a pretty random bar to set, but he supposed in his line of work he got bussed around quite a lot.
The group date card had read 'Let's have a ball,' which had made some of the guys think they were going dancing, but the producers had made them all put on sports clothes, so James wasn't convinced. (But maybe he always had football on the brain. Well, when he wasn't thinking about Lily nowadays.)
What was even the point anymore? Grift had persuaded Lily that he was a violent miscreant, and what girl could possibly fall in love with a guy who had to defend himself all the time? It wasn't a good look, and definitely not one conducive to butterflies and sparks.
Hey Evans! How was your week? Oh. Did I threaten to spank Michael with a spatula today? No I didn't. Great… so now that we cleared that up… do you have any siblings?
Honestly, Grift had played the perfect sabotage, because even though James was innocent, he could no longer talk about anything else other than all this drama because Lily was continually questioning his motives.
"You need to stop stewing," Remus said, sitting in the seat next to him as the bus pulled onto the highway. "It's weird."
James smiled at him, glad at least one person there seemed to know his true personality. When he'd signed up for — well, been forced into — this show, he'd really been under the false impression that he'd be hanging out with one girl quite a lot. Instead, all he really seemed to do was bond around the clock with his new best friends. Remus was leaning against the window, eyes closed, as though he was still trying to get just one more wink of sleep. "All right, all right. How are you feeling?"
"Tired. Who goes on a date at 9 am?"
"Aren't you a professor?"
Remus cracked one eye open. "Yeah. For university students. They notoriously like night classes as well."
James chuckled, so thankful Remus' university wasn't too far from his flat. They already had celebratory drinks on the books for when they both inevitably got booted from the show. "So." He looked over his shoulder to make sure that the other guys were all too enthralled by their own conversations to snoop. They hadn't been mic'ed up yet. "What's going on with you and Sirius?"
Remus looked wide awake now. "What do you mean?"
James snorted. "Oh, come on. I wasn't born yesterday." His friend was blushing heavily. "You like him, don't you?"
"Well, that would be highly inappropriate considering I'm here to date Lily."
Huh. Well that wasn't a no.
James knew it was stupid, but he was so into this girl, so captivated and aggravated and losing his absolute mind over her, that sometimes he forgot that there were other guys here who might like her too. Sure, he got that they were jealous and wanted him gone, but he also knew that none of them liked her as much as he did. They couldn't — that would be impossible. Evans was his feisty little love problem. But perhaps the thing that was the most jarring for James wasn't that Lily had other suitors, but that one of them was one of his best friends.
To be fair, he really didn't get the vibe that she was Remus' type at all.
Someone else here was.
James shrugged. "The heart moons for what it wants," he replied pseudo-poetically.
"Yeah, well how 'bout you focus on the mooning of your own damn heart," Remus grumbled even though he was grinning as he readjusted himself against the window.
James chuckled. "Mmhm." There was a beat. "I'll do some digging for you."
"No you will not."
"Eh. We'll see."
"James…"
"Remus…"
"I hate you."
Lily
"Welcome to Old Trafford!" Sirius announced to her ten suitors while he stood next to Lily on the football pitch. They'd all run off the bus in various states of enthusiasm and hugged her, Juan nearly knocking her straight off her feet before he picked her up and spun her around. Meanwhile James had ambled over nervously, at the back of the group, looking like he was almost scared of her.
Good, Lily thought before she could stop herself. She had accepted his hug all the same, but it had felt so awkward and tentative, as though he thought that if he held onto her for longer than a second, her skin would zap him. She hated it.
"We're going to split you into two teams to compete for extra time with Lily. The team that wins gets to go to a cocktail party with her tonight, while the team that loses has to go back to the mansion immediately." Several of the men groaned their disapproval. "But first! We're going to scrimmage with the boys and girls of Green End Primary School to warm up!"
On cue, dozens of screaming boys and girls ran onto the field, some kicking balls, some carrying them, and others making a mad dash towards the guys like their only objective in life was to tackle them to the ground. Lily couldn't help but laugh at the look on Chad's face as he was nearly bowled over by a group of eager little girls.
It was pure pandemonium for the next hour as the guys did their best to play with children who didn't seem all too keen on following the rules of the sport, but Lily definitely noticed who was enjoying himself the most.
Well, of course Potter likes playing football — it's his fucking job. If he didn't, she'd have some serious questions. But… he didn't necessarily have to enjoy playing ball with kids. Somehow Lily's lip kept ending up between her teeth as she watched him dribbling with some kids, before making a big dramatic show of letting a little girl steal the ball from him before chasing after her.
"I think my ovaries just exploded as well," Sirius mocked her.
Lily hadn't realized he'd walked up to stand beside her once more. "Must you always catch me at the worst moments?"
"Is staring at James really your worst moments?"
Yes. Sort of. Possibly my weakest ones. Lily tore her gaze from Potter — a kid hanging off of each arm to try to slow him down — to regard Sirius. He knew Potter and was probably privy to all the footage of him that she couldn't see. Would he tell her the truth about what Potter had said about her to the other guys? Would Sirius be honest with her about who she could trust? Can you trust him? She thought she could, but maybe this would be like Mary all over again — jeopardizing a man's job just because she couldn't figure Potter out herself. The visible bump of Sirius' mic pack stuffed in his pocket gave her pause.
"Something on your mind?" Sirius prompted, clearly seeing the mix of emotions flitting across her face. He raised the side of his shirt, showing off his dangling audio cord. It was as if he was saying, you can trust me, we're alone.
Just as Lily started reaching into the back pocket of her jean shorts, determined to cut her own audio as well, Petra came running up to her. "Lily! We have someone who we think would really like to meet you!"
"Oh?" Lily asked with a small jump in the air, feeling like she'd been caught redhanded mid-crime. It was preposterous — as if wanting a lick of privacy could be considered criminal.
"Come here," Petra said, motioning her towards an upset boy standing on the sidelines.
Lily felt instant shame that she hadn't noticed him sooner. She and Sirius approached the boy together. "Hi," Lily began gently. "What's your name?"
"He doesn't speak any English," Petra told her. "He immigrated recently from Spain and has yet to acclimate I guess."
"Oh," Lily said sadly, fully knowing that she didn't know any Spanish herself. "¿Hola?" she asked feebly, feeling so stupid over her inadequacy.
The boy read right through her, crossing his arms unimpressed.
"Don't think that did the trick, Lils," Sirius whispered unhelpfully. "Hang on, James knows Spanish. Oi! James!" Sirius cupped his hands around his mouth as he beckoned over Lily's worst nightmare.
"That's all right—" Lily tried, suddenly determined to learn an entire language in five seconds. She could do it. She could just pretend like she'd taken that pill from Limitless and go bonkers. Why not?
Why does this man, jogging so deliciously your way, make you feel borderline hysterical?
"What's up?" James asked, a light, tantalizing sheen of sweat making his face glisten.
It isn't fair. It isn't right.
"Production didn't think far enough ahead to hire a translator for this poor kid." Lily saw Petra bristle at Sirius' accusation. "Can you ask him what's wrong?"
James completely ignored Lily's presence as he bent down to get at the boy's level and started having a whole animated conversation with him. Something the boy said made James laugh uproariously as his eyes sliced briefly towards Petra before they carried on. It was so silly — it was just a man speaking a foreign language — and it shouldn't make Lily all hot and bothered, and it probably had to do with her raging hormones right now, but why — oh why — was James speaking Spanish turning her on so flipping much?
To be fair though, his tongue was wrapping itself around words in a way she wasn't used to hearing before and it was working for her.
Get a fucking grip.
It was also just so pleasant to see him with children. Lily didn't know if it was her biological clock ticking or simply a really nice turn of events to see this other side of Potter. This sweet side. This caring side. This side that obviously knew exactly how to get a kid to open up and trust him. It was wonderful.
"He runs a children's charity, you know," Sirius whispered in her ear, having caught her staring again in the span of a few short minutes.
What? Lily's mind felt like it did a record scratch with that information. Him too? First Michael, now Potter? What were the odds that two of her suitors ran children's charities? It felt too specific. Sure, casting knew that she loved children, so it would make sense that they tried to get as many likeminded suitors for her as possible, but still. "You sure?" she muttered back under her breath.
Sirius huffed. "Yeah. It's public knowledge he runs Soccer Without Borders."
That was his charity?
Suddenly James popped back up to his feet, giving the kid a fist bump. "He's fine, he just doesn't want to play."
Petra's face faltered. "Why?"
James shrugged. "He just doesn't."
Petra narrowed her eyes at him. "You just had a full minute conversation, and that's all he said?"
James put his hands up in front of himself innocently, face looking guilty as fuck, as he backed away slowly. "Guess some things got lost in translation." He gave the boy a wink and then turned around to resume play.
Lily was physically weak in the knees.
He was a lot more mischievous than she'd given him credit for. Sure, she knew he could be downright cheeky, and apparently it turned out he was a real arsehole, but he also had this naughty, boyish charm to him that she hadn't entirely been prepared for. It was like getting a sample at a grocery store, deciding she liked it, and then suddenly being hit in the face with the whole damn meal — tasty and delicious and all hers.
Shit, she was ravenous too.
Petra huffed, realizing she'd been played. Without further ado, she unclipped her walkie and commanded, "Move all cameras into position for actual gameplay. Moving Bachelorette and Host to middle of field for announcement." She turned off the walkie. "Sirius, you know who's playing for which teams?"
"Do I ever."
Lily guessed the child scrimmage portion of the date was now over.
"Great warmups everybody!" Sirius cheered to a group of mentally exhausted looking men. A small, inner part of Lily celebrated that they'd all experienced what it was like to deal with an unruly classroom. Good for empathy purposes down the line… "Now we're going to split you up into two teams: shirts versus skins."
No, no… don't you dare, don't you dare… But of course the show dared. Lily watched helplessly next to Sirius on the football pitch as he announced the various men. Potter was inevitably sorted into the team on the left, which was of course skins.
Production is trying to fucking kill me. It's not going to work! she screamed defiantly.
… But why was she still ogling?
How was it that this man had only been on two dates so far and ended up shirtless for both of them? Lily watched as he shook his head from side to side, perhaps onto the show's penchant for showing off his body as well, before he reached behind his neck for the collar of his shirt and chucked it over his head as he joined his teammates.
Well, that was certainly an image she would never soon forget. Lily had to admit, there was something completely different about seeing a guy shirtless versus actually watching him get undressed.
Fuck, she was horny.
Potter was clapping his hand with Remus, who'd just been sorted into the other team, and his bicep was bulging nicely as the muscles of his back rippled, all competing for her attention, and…
Ugh. Lily swore James had gotten tanner and fitter since last week. That's what you get for giving him nothing to do except lounge by the pool and work out…
James
All right, half naked again, James grumbled in his head. How was he supposed to prove that he wasn't a fuckboy if production kept having him look like one?
But whatever, at least they were here, in a stadium he knew, playing a sport he loved, and finally, finally, he was aware of what was expected of him. To play! Sure, he wished Remus was his teammate instead of Michael, but hey: at least Michael couldn't undercut him when they both had skin in the game.
Or so he thought.
As soon as the match began, James realized that his team specifically wasn't passing him the ball, seemingly content to all go down together as long as it meant that James was going down with them. Sure, he could have predicted this type of total dick behavior from someone like Grift, who clearly didn't care about Lily so wouldn't view missing out on the afterparty with her as a great loss, but the other guys? Had his sudden unpopularity in the mansion really been all it took for them to try to push him out too? He'd just lent a blazer to Tom, had a heart-to-heart about parental loss with Juan, and listened to Liam prattle endlessly about his love of football — and now they wanted to pretend like they'd never had anything to do with him in their lives? And for what? To keep Grift happy?
Why?!
"I'm open!" James cried out for the fifth time to no avail. The ball was stolen from Michael, who was clearly still learning how to dribble, and rushed back to the other net.
Michael laughed as he ran by James, the shirts all celebrating another goal. "It's not personal, Potter. Relax. It's just a game."
What the fuck? How was being barred from competing not friggin' personal?
"Okay. Well, if it's just a game, how 'bout you guys let me play?" The ref blew the whistle, trying to wrangle everyone back into position for kickoff.
Michael snorted, wiping sweat off his brow. "Are you really going to be a baby about being excluded?"
That was rich coming from the man leading the exclusion. "There's room for all of us," James tried explaining. On the sidelines, he saw Gary angling his boom mic towards them. He had no idea how far range that thing was, but he was at least partially aware that their audio could be getting recorded right now. It hardly mattered though; James was getting so angry, he could almost see red. "Why are you doing this?"
Michael shrugged. "Do I need a reason? I just decided you shouldn't be allowed to play. So now you can't."
"Why though?"
His nemesis grinned. "It's my final decision, Potter, and there's nothing you can do about it. So deal with it."
This guy was so goddamn annoying. James felt like he was talking to a brick wall — only Michael was somehow denser. "Look man: don't do this. I just wanna hang out with Lily tonight, okay? So at least let me try to help us win the game."
"Is that all you care about? Winning?"
Oh he was gonna throttle this little cunt! Grift knew what James had meant, and it wasn't that.
The smirk Michael shot him made James' skin crawl. It was like he was getting off on keeping James out of the running all by himself. "Why don't you calm down? Take a breath. Maybe try acting like an adult for a change?"
Oh. So Grift was trying to get James to murder him. Got it. James cursed as he jogged off, realizing reasoning with the wanker was pointless. Grift had clearly made up his mind about how the game was going to go long before they'd gotten to the pitch and thought of himself as some sort of unimpeachable god — the sole purveyor of justice — who was allowed to rig things however he pleased.
Absolute dickwad.
So Grift was a dead end, but maybe he still had a shot convincing the other guys to let him play. James tried waving his arms, having outmaneuvered all his opponents to be completely open in front of the net, in perfect position to make the easiest goal of his entire life, but Liam passed the ball backwards to Chad instead, making it super easy for Paul to intercept and make another goal. At this point, James had only touched the ball once, and they were twenty minutes into the match. If this kept up, Lily would think he'd lied about being a professional athlete too. Wouldn't that just be the cherry on top of a misery sundae? It was truly maddening, but what could he do?
You can take the ball for yourself.
Instincts kicked in the longer he played to run faster, stealing the ball away from an unsuspecting Tom, outpacing his opponents and teammates (who seemed to be trying to block him as well), and dribbling past everyone to sink in a magnificent goal, soaring neatly into the top right corner of the net.
The cheer Lily made from the sidelines, a boisterous, wonderful sound, felt as good as winning a Golden Boot. He wanted to impress her, he wanted her to like him, even if it was only for half an hour and for a completely pointless reason. He'd take that victory gladly.
James kept up the energy, continually making play after play even if he had to do it all by himself — going from the pitch pariah to a total ball-hog — until the game was finally tied up, and Michael looked wholly pissed off. It turned out things were a lot easier when James decided to just go it alone.
"Pass the ball, you arrogant twat!" Michael yelled after James' sixth goal as he ran back to the other side of the field.
Huh. Who could have predicted that Michael wouldn't really like being on the other side of exclusion? James waited until he was right next to him to whisper, "I will when you learn how to play fair."
That's when the git stomped on his ankle.
"What the FUCK, man?" James yelled, pushing Grift off of him as he limped away, trying to put as much distance between himself and the madman.
"He pushed me! He harassed me!" Michael started yelling, trying to flag over the nearest cameraman. "Did you get that? Did you film that? He's harassing me!"
James walked off the field, entirely at his wit's end. Trying to keep him from being able to go to the afterparty with Lily was one thing — underhanded and cruel but at least understandable from the perspective of a weak, insecure little boy — but trying to hurt him in a way he couldn't recover from and might derail his career? This was a whole new low, even for someone as pathetic as Grift.
And what was James even fighting for anymore? A chance to chat up a girl that positively despised him?! Why should he keep playing along in a game he couldn't even win, no matter how much effort he put in?
James could no longer deal.
"James, hold up—" Colin cried, jogging after him.
"No, I'm done," he declared, grabbing for the ghost of a mic pack that he hadn't even been wearing due to the rigors of the sport. He gingerly rotated his ankle before continuing on his trek towards the locker rooms. "I can't get injured shooting a bloody television show. This is ridiculous; I'm done."
"James, you're being irrational—" his producer tried.
Am I though?! James sure as hell didn't think so. "This is my life, Colin. My career. I can't piss it all away for you because Grift wants to literally step on me," he fumed.
"I'm sure it was an accident," Colin tried postulating, but he reconsidered and began wilting instead under the power of James' glare. "Fine. I'll talk to his producer and make sure he doesn't do it again."
"No. I can't take that risk. He can shoot himself in the foot and make sure that none of us get to go to the bloody second part of the date for all I care. I no longer give a flying fuck."
"James—"
"Leave me alone," James growled, angrily enough that Colin actually didn't try to impede him any further. Who knew, maybe Michael's lies had convinced even the crew that James could physically fly off the handle at any moment.
James marched on — only to nearly run straight into Lily coming out of the bathroom door.
"Potter?" she asked surprised, looking down the empty corridor behind him and seeing that they were alone. "What are you doing here?"
Great. So she hadn't even seen Grift's massive power play.
"You all right?" she pressed.
James stopped his raging to finally get a good look at her and was surprised to see she seemed genuinely concerned about why he was so upset. This woman was so fucking confusing. Did she hate him or not?
"Evans: why am I still here?"
Lily
"What?"
Lily had never seen James look so agitated before. She'd been gone all of five minutes, using her bathroom break as a glorious, slightly longer than necessary, reprieve from being recorded all the time. What the hell had she missed? Was he mad that his team had started off losing? From where she'd been standing, it looked as though Potter was singlehandedly leading his team to the most epic of comebacks, and she'd been super giddy to see it. He was talented, it was wickedly fun to witness, purely from an awestruck spectator perspective of course — but had she missed something? The other guys had definitely been snubbing him, which supported Grift's claim that they all disliked him.
… However, she was all alone with Potter now, in a deserted hallway while he was pissed off as hell, and she didn't feel an ounce of fear. Wasn't he supposed to be a violent devil incarnate? Wouldn't her intuition be telling her to run right now if that were the case? Instead, all Lily wanted to do was stay and make sure he was all right. Perhaps her teacher instincts were still in full swing having seen all those school kids, but in her gut, Lily knew she was not alone with a dangerous man.
Maybe she should start listening to her instincts more, and other people less.
"Why am I even still here?" Potter repeated vehemently. "You clearly hate my guts, you don't believe a word I say, so what? Are you just keeping me to humiliate me? Hurt me? Why?"
What the fuck? Lily guessed he wasn't wrong, she didn't like him (or at least she was choosing to try not to), but it still sounded so brutal to hear him say it out loud and confront her about it. She was normally so much better about keeping people's feelings in mind and making sure she didn't hurt them… But with Potter, it was as if all her usual rules had just flown straight out the window. Had she wanted to hurt him? Was that what she thought someone like him deserved? Maybe… but wouldn't that make her just as bad as him? The notion felt so wrong — so unequivocally against her core values — that seeing the pain in his eyes as he asked the question made Lily realized: she'd fucked up.
Who cared if the guy was possibly a douche? That didn't mean she had to become one too just in order to deal with him. She was better than that. "No, Potter. I don't want to hurt you."
He didn't seem appeased. "Then why am I still here?" he pressed, desperation seeping into his words. "Why don't you just cut me from the show?"
"Do you want me to?" It wasn't the first question that popped into her head, but it was still the one that she couldn't seem to stop her mouth from asking.
His eyebrows crinkled as he straightened up, seemingly caught off guard. "Yeah, I mean if you're not going to give me an actual chance, what's the point in staying and torturing myself?"
What? He was seriously going to play that card? Lily crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I heard that you don't actually want a chance."
"That's bullshit."
"What?"
"What you've been told? It's bullshit." He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Look Evans, I can't talk my way into making you believe I'm a good guy. I feel like talk can only paint people as bad, and the only way out is through actions. I can only show you I'm a decent bloke. And you have to either believe that, or you don't. But I can't live in this in between. So you have to decide if you'll even let me try to show you."
How the hell was this guy making her feel so ashamed over this? She hadn't been the one who'd turned a whole house against him. Was he secretly a manipulative genius who was now gaslighting her?
Why are you still so fucking scared of him?! she screamed at herself internally.
Sure, she wasn't threatened by him physically, but she was nevertheless convinced that he was the only guy here who could truly break her heart. Lily was really starting to hate herself for this — which only made her even more mad at him. She was a thirty year old woman who had met her fair share of guys who had said and done whatever they needed to in order to get what they'd wanted out of her. And Lily was sick of it. She was sick of wading through the trash to try to find someone who would treat her with respect and dignity — a diamond in the rough so to speak. Was it her fault that shitty men had made her paranoid and skeptical? No. But she supposed it was still her responsibility to fight the urge to view Potter through the same jaded shit-colored glasses she had from all the bad men she'd loved before him.
James was staring at her, his gorgeous hazel eyes piercing straight into her soul as he waited for an answer. She couldn't give him one yet. His gaze was hitting her differently today, and Lily had only now realized it was because he must have worn contacts for the group date. She looked away, unable to deal with his intensity, as she played with the end of her ponytail. "Well, it's not like I can decide anything yet anyway. You still have two more weeks."
"What?" Lily looked back at him, confused as to why he looked confused. Off of her lack of response he added, "What do you mean I still have two more weeks?"
Lily put her palm up and out. "Because of your contract."
There was a very long, very uncomfortable silence where they watched each other tensely.
"Evans… what are you talking about?"
"Oh come on, don't make me say it—"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"What do you mean? It was your stipulation."
"I never wanted to do the show! How can I have a stipulation if none of this was ever my say?!"
"What th— What do you mean you never wanted to? Then, what are you talking about; why are you here?"
"My manager forced me!" James blurted out, looking more frustrated than ever. "I didn't want to, but he wanted to rehabilitate my image—" a small cry of victory sounded in the paranoid part of Lily's brain, but it was short-lived, "—but then I actually liked you, like a lot, but none of that matters because those feelings aren't reciprocated, so what are you saying was the stipulation?" He took a massive breath in, having rushed his words as if not to lose the nerve to say them. She couldn't believe he'd just admitted his manager's intentions with him coming on the show, couldn't believe he'd been that brutally honest with her. He'd now given her the power to absolutely destroy him — well, tarnish him further — with that little nugget of truth.
'But then I actually liked you…' Those words bounced around in Lily's brain too.
Could she be that honest with him too?
Oh no. Oh crap. No. There was no way he couldn't have been aware of his own bloody contract. No way. He had to have signed it! That's how those things worked! "You never read your own contract?"
James shrugged. "A little bit of all of it."
"How can you read a little bit of all of it?"
"It was like 100 pages long! All legal jargon and shit. I just got the gist of it."
"That's hardly that long."
"Evans."
James was cutting off her nervous attempt to drag this moment out as long as possible. She couldn't believe he hadn't known she had been forced to keep him on the bloody show. Had he really had this much hope that she actually liked him despite all the things she'd already said to him to the contrary? Despite how she'd treated and rebuked him? It seemed to imply that he wanted her to like him back.
Is he a glutton for punishment?
"Please, just tell me."
Lily recognized her own desperation in those words. Hadn't she just begged the same out of Michael last week? 'Just tell me.' Were she and James really on the same boat, completely lost at sea with zero map or compass, blindly begging the waves to bring them somewhere safe from the storm? Lily bit her lower lip and looked at him, his earnest plea breaking her heart. "One of the stipulations for having you be on the show is that you had to be guaranteed a spot until at least week five." She felt all the air deflating out of her lungs with her confession.
Lily swore the sound of the clock, ticking unnaturally slow behind her, had just been amplified by a thousand. Hurt washed over James' face as he processed her words, looking at her as though he'd never actually seen her before at all. His brows scrunched. "You're telling me that the only reason I'm still here is because production is making you keep me?"
Why did hearing him ask that sting so much? She managed a terse nod in response.
James tore his eyes away, running both of his hands through his hair as he looked to the wall. "I'm so, so sorry, Evans."
Lily opened her mouth, wanting to provide him some semblance of comfort, but nothing came out. He really didn't know?!
He let out a sad huff, still not looking at her. "I had no idea you had no choice but to hang out with me. That's so fucked up." His arms fell defeatedly to his sides. "I'll…" his lids fluttered rapidly as he figured out what to say. Lily resisted the urge to reach out to him, touch him, hug him, tell him that a part of her had wanted to get to know him even against her own better judgement — but she felt frozen in place, watching the scene like a car crash. "I'll make sure to leave you alone from now on." He shook his head, determination slipping over his features before he shot her a forced smile that barely reached his cheeks let alone his eyes. "Goodbye, Evans."
He walked past her, favoring his right foot, and pushed his way into the locker room down the hall. Lily watched the door swing shut behind him, and wanted to cry.
James
This was possibly the most embarrassing moment of his life.
Not only was he on a reality television show to try to find love, but apparently he was also cheating at it. He lay down on a bench, feeling the wood digging into his bare shoulders as he stared up at the ceiling's florescent lights. She never even liked you. Maybe Michael had been right all along: maybe he was a privileged dick that went around flexing his power, even if he hadn't known it. For fuck's sake, the woman he was into hadn't even been allowed to reject him properly!
"Mate, you in there?" Remus' voice asked from the other side of the door.
James covered his eyes with a hand. "No."
"Yup, found him," Remus said, pushing the door open and coming inside with Sirius.
As soon as Sirius saw James, lying there melting into a puddle of self-pity, he pulled out his phone excitedly. For one nerve-wrecking second, James worried he was about to take a picture for future blackmail material, but instead, he just started playing Taylor Swift's "Look What You Made Me Do" at full volume.
James was so starved for music, having been denied it for so long on set, he actually listened to the lyrics he'd always tuned out before. He dragged his palm down over his mouth, mumbling, "Wait… did she write this song for me?" In how bad of shape did he have to be in to find himself relating to an American pop star's words? Taylor had never quite been his jam before.
"Honestly, I feel like her whole Reputation album is for you," Sirius joked, sitting right next to James' head and patting his chest condescendingly while Remus leaned against the door, propping up a leg. James had to wonder if Remus' positioning was intended to ensure that no one else could barge in unannounced. "Cheer up, buttercup."
"I can't believe you can have music and we can't."
"Perks of the job title."
James snorted. The man was in far too good of a mood for his taste. He'd escaped here to wallow. "What are you two doing here?"
Remus started, "Well, someone on shirts had to be sidelined since we had one more player with you out—"
"And production wanted me to check on you and make sure you don't run away," Sirius finished, lowering the volume on his phone. James still felt the added comfort of knowing that their conversation couldn't be overheard outside of this locker room. "I think they still wanna call an ambulance though, you know, for theatrics!" He put out a jazz hand dramatically.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
Sirius chuckled. "I think they know if they sent you to the hospital now, they won't be getting you back, so don't worry, pretty sure you're safe. But they're probably still planning on filming it driving over with the sirens blaring for a misleading promo or something."
"Grand," James sighed. It was just what he needed: to look like a weak football player who was milking an injury.
"Is your ankle okay though?" Remus asked tentatively.
James sighed, lifting his leg off the ground so he could rotate the ankle in question. "Yeah, think it'll be good if I don't do anything crazy for a bit. Should probably get some ice on it soon."
Remus nodded, but Sirius was still far too distracted by the song lyrics coming out of his phone. "I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me…" he sang along. "Are you relating, Jamesie?"
"So if your ankle's fine, why are you here moping?" Remus asked, saving James from having to answer Sirius' clear amusement.
James decided he wasn't ready to lead with his recent heartbreak at Lily's contract reveal. Drowning in self-righteous anger over a bunch of tossers seemed like a path far less vulnerable. "Are you kidding me? They're all ganging up on me out there—"
"Yeah. Because you're reacting."
"What?" James asked scandalized, not expecting to be cut off in his diatribe so early.
"You react. You're the easiest target in the world because they get exactly what they want out of you every time," Remus said sagely.
Why is Remus always right? "That's so unfair—!" James whinged.
"Oh yeah, you called it," Sirius told Remus, completely speaking over James' head. "I can totally see how all of this would get blown way out of proportion easily."
"Right?" Remus replied.
"Guys. I'm right here," James mumbled, understanding their point even if he didn't love it. "Not cool."
"Well, you're also super dramatic, James. So whenever you do react, it's also kind of amusing to witness. That's another tick in the easy pickings department."
James wanted to huff at the indignity of the statement but realized it would only be giving credence to Remus' observation.
"Don't worry, mate. It's why we get along so well," Sirius whispered to him with a wink.
"Well," James began, sitting up and facing Remus, "how can I not react? All they do is lie and cheat and—"
"Easy, like this," Sirius replied, pointing to Remus. "Don't know if you've noticed, but they've been going after him too. And our man's been staying cool as a cucumber."
Fuck! James knew that they'd been slandering Remus too, but that had only made James even more likely to stand up to the bullies in order to defend both of their honors. "But they're wrong—"
"Yeah, and what has trying to prove that gotten you?"
James groaned and laid back down against the wood. "A worse reputation."
"Exactly," Remus pushed his point gently. "We get it. You have the moral high ground, but that doesn't really matter when you're digging yourself a grave anyway."
"Honestly, on camera, defending yourself is sort of coming across as just as snippy as being the one doing the attacking." Sirius added, putting his hands up innocently when James shot him an upside-down glare.
"I'm not the one taking other people down! Defending yourself isn't the same thing as attacking someone—" Context matters. Situations and timelines to events matter, for fuck's sake!
"I know, I know," Sirius cut him off. "I can tell the difference between a person who starts a fight, and someone who's merely trying to clear their name, and obviously Remus can too — but I doubt a lot of the audience of this show will be able to. They might not have the critical thinking skills to realize it's all edited exactly the way they want it to air. Or they won't care enough to actually think about it, who knows."
James wanted to go drown himself in one of the showers. "So I'm just supposed to let them lie?"
Remus was about to answer, but Sirius beat him to it. "I never said that. You gotta do what you gotta do; who am I to tell you how to act?" James felt like he'd actually told him to do exactly that only a few moments ago. He listened on bewildered. "I only want you to know that's how all this mess might be getting interpreted. The other suitors have got you all figured out, so they're talking shit, and they know that they can lie and cover their asses afterwards by saying that what they're doing is all innocent and virtuous, and that you're the crazy one for reacting to it."
James threw his arms in the air above him. "So, how is exposing them for being duplicitous little shits not the right thing to do then?! It's the principal of the thing at this point!"
Remus flattened out his brows with his thumb and forefinger in frustration. "I feel like you're not listening," he sighed.
"James," Sirius cut in, trying to hammer their points home, "we get it, you're noble as fuck — but the problem is they know that too and are using it against you. We just don't want you to keep getting played, because even if you're doing the right thing — it's making you look bad."
Remus continued, "Bullies love deflecting and pretending like they're the victims of their own crimes. Bullies love striking and dogpiling when there's already blood in the water — which with you, I think there always kind of is." James let his arms fall down to smack him in the face. Kill me now. It was oh-so-fun being told that because he'd been slandered before, he was at a higher risk for it happening again. "Bullies love throwing you under the bus if it gets them to where they want to go. So, as long as you know that your intentions with Lily are good and that you're doing right by her, that's all that should matter — because they know it too. They lie because they know that they're in the wrong and that using actual facts won't work. So really, you're just wasting your time trying to convince them of the truth, because they already know it. That's how they were able to manipulate the story in the first place! They were never really trying to engage with you in good faith."
James' head hurt, and not just because of the self-inflicted slap: how does that even make any sense? Honestly, at this point, he'd sort of given up on convincing the world that he was a good person. If they didn't believe that, well, fuck 'em. He'd keep his inner circle of friends as he always had, and hopefully soon, his whole original scandal would blow over and he could go back to playing football. But… he'd be lying if he said that a small part of him now didn't wish that at least Lily knew the truth. I'd settle for just her believing in me.
"Fuck Michael. Seriously fuck Michael—" James declared, jumping to his feet, only to remember his ankle and start limp-pacing around the space.
"Yup," Remus said in agreement, watching his progress.
"Arseholes like him get off on making other people their puppets! By… fuck, I don't know, controlling the narrative or some shit."
The song on Sirius' phone changed, and a few angry notes began playing. "I never trust a narcissist, but they love me…" Taylor sang.
"He's a lawyer. What do you expect?" Remus responded drolly.
Sirius flicked his hair out of his eyes. "Plus he's wicked jealous of you. Has been since night one; anyone who's paid even a lick of attention can see that. Jealousy is one hell of a beast. It can make even the most decent of people absolutely lose it, and let's be real: Grift has probably never been decent."
"I swear, production does this crap on purpose. They give us nothing to do, so we all just get obsessed with each other!"
"True," Sirius chimed in, kicking his boot against the floor. James thought that he was only being supportive, but then remembered that Sirius — awesome best mate that he still was — actually was a part of production. This meant that when Sirius agreed, he spoke from a place of actually knowing the truth.
Fuck, James hated it here even more now. "I wonder how he got to Paul," James mused. "Like, the dude used to like me, and now…?" He really couldn't wrap his mind around what had happened with the man.
"I think you underestimate how much normal people want to stay out of drama, James. He probably looked at the cost/reward of staying your friend and realized it wasn't worth it. Sometimes people don't speak out because they don't want to get targeted by the mob next," Remus answered. "Doesn't mean he's a bad guy, just a bit of a…"
"Coward," Sirius finished for him.
"How do you know so much?!" James asked frustratedly, spinning to the voice of reason in the room.
Remus merely shrugged. "I work at a university. You see a lot of bullies of various ages, but it sort of teaches you that mean girls and boys don't ever truly grow up. They just grow older."
This was all the encouragement James needed to continue his full-blown tirade. "That's the worst part though! I feel like people like— Paul," he'd almost slipped up and said Lily, but caught himself last second, "can't even see that he's the bad guy. Like they genuinely think that pompous, privileged douche Michael Grift, next in line to Primark, is the patron saint of underdogs. Like… how?" James made explosive gestures with his fingers at both of his temples. "Look at how he treats Remus. Paul. How he talks about Lily behind her back even as he schmoozes her to her face? In what world—?"
"People will see through his act eventually. Remember?"
James knew that's what he'd told Michael at the cocktail party, but the guy had gotten away with so much more unchecked shit since. "I'm not sure, he's got a pretty polished mask—"
"The people who matter will, James. You gotta trust in that," Remus insisted. James angrily stuffed his hand in his hair, still not convinced. As if reading his inner monologue, Remus added, "Lily will see the real him soon. This isn't like the reporters you've had to deal with in your past who got to hide behind anonymous blogs and had all the time in the world to curate the perfect made-up story. Michael's being filmed for twelve hours a day. He'll slip up in front of her eventually."
Fuck. He really, really hoped so. James kicked himself for still having hope that Lily would come around to him.
Sirius continued, "He's got her under his spell right now because he's prayed on her emotions. That girl is overwhelmed and in over her head, trying to do the right thing, and he's taking advantage with his.. his," he flipped his wrist in the air as he came up with the right words, "weaponized nonsense. He knows that when he gets Lily angry, it's so much easier to control the way she thinks. Like look, he made up Tyler having a girlfriend and boom, the guy was gone. He didn't even have a chance to speak. She's righteous but short-tempered — hey, would you look at that? Just like you."
James wanted to smile at the quip — knowing that he and Lily shared many qualities that would make them a brilliant match — but found himself grimacing instead, a surge of protectiveness welling inside of him. She really had been through the ringer already. Just like James was in a snake pit, so was she; but at least he had two trustworthy confidants. Who did she have? Call it a savior complex, but James so wished he could be the one to shield her from this disaster.
"Think about it, you're angry now, aren't you?" Remus carried on. "And look. It's all you can think about. Rage is so easily manipulated, which is why when the bad politicians want you to vote for them or their agenda, first they get you all riled up with complete bullshit diversions or fear mongering or something. People so often miss reason when they're upset."
James felt like that might just be the story of his life.
"You ever heard that quote? When a narcissist can't control you—"
"Yeah, yeah, they try to control how others see you. I've heard," James grumbled, not happy how the quote always made him think back to his old friend from school. He who must not be named.
"Well, look on the bright side, mate," Sirius said. "Least it means that they all know that they can't control you so they have to resort to this instead."
A vexed silence fell over the locker room as James stewed, trying to take all his friends' advice to heart. He was trying to listen — he really was — even if it was a tough pill to swallow. The only sounds they heard for a few beats was Taylor still singing her heart out: "They're burning all the witches, even if you aren't one. They got their pitchforks and proof, their receipts and reasons."
Sirius broke the tension first. "Michael's like the little dogs at the dog park who whine at the big dogs for existing. The big dogs don't even have to do anything, but they still get a bad rap and everyone there is now worried they hurt someone all because of a whiny, lying, little bitch."
James snorted, grateful for a break from all the doom and gloom. "So I take it you're a dog person?" He finally felt sufficiently talked down enough that he could sit next to him again.
"Duh. Wait," Sirius looked more serious than he had this whole conversation, "are you not?"
"Uh oh, is this our first fight?" James joked back.
"Honestly, that might just be the biggest red flag I've seen from you thus far," Sirius said, still slightly aghast. He turned to Remus. "What about you?"
"Dog person, obviously," Remus replied, only glancing at Sirius briefly, before returning his attention to James. It was still enough to make Sirius happy once more. "James, if you want my advice, you have to ignore the bullshit, and just focus on Lily. Let the drama die down on its own."
James snorted, hanging his head. This portion of their chitchat had been inevitable.
"What?" Sirius pushed, noticing James' change in posture.
"She doesn't even like me. So all of this bullshit? It was all for nothing." No one in the room said anything, so James looked back up to find his two friends sharing a look. "What?"
"Nothing," Sirius answered shrugging. "I just can't believe you're really that daft." He turned to Remus. "Did he really just say he doesn't think she likes him?"
Remus raised his brows as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Yup, he did."
"Wow. Guess you really can't have beauty, athleticism, and a brain."
James rolled his eyes, knowing they were trying to cheer him up. "No, seriously, guys, she doesn't—"
"Damn, those rumors must have really done a number on you—"
"That's not what this is about—"
"You're an international superstar, you're awesome, you have a perfectly adequate proportioned body—" What the fuck? James bristled at the accusation of being labeled merely 'adequate,' "—and a decent sense of humor. Let her see that!"
James chuckled, heartened by Sirius' ribbing despite himself. "Wow, Sirius, are you supposed to have favorites?"
"Who said you're my favorite?" Sirius clapped back instantly. By the door, Remus choked before they fell into another silence.
Well, joke time is over, James thought morosely. "Lily just told me the only reason I'm still around is because apparently it was in my contract."
"What?" Remus and Sirius cried in unison. "When?" Remus added.
"Just now in the hallway as she was leaving the loo. About five minutes before you guys showed up."
"What's your contract say exactly?"
"I'm not sure. But Evans says that legally she has to keep me until week five. So…" he got to his feet and turned around, not really wanting to face either of them anymore, "that's what she's been doing."
"Huh," Remus whispered, pondering this over.
"I don't care what she says, honestly," Sirius interjected. "That girl has had it bad for you from the second you stepped out of that limo. She can deny it all she wants, but I've also caught her staring at you countless times since. She has the worst poker face; it's adorable."
She does, doesn't she? James grinned to himself, hoping to everything holy that Sirius would keep talking. This was the kind of shit he wanted to hear.
"So unless she's practicing her Medusa glare, she's into you."
James chanced a glance at Remus over his shoulder, wanting some conformation that Sirius wasn't just pulling his leg. Remus nodded, smiling. "I thought it was fairly obvious that she's interested in you as well. I think all of the other guys feel it too."
I'm back in the game! James' face split into a shit-eating grin as he turned around. "So you're saying there's still a chance?"
Sirius chuckled. "I'll try to talk to her. I saw it on the field, the girl wants to talk to me about you, but she's scared. They basically have her under lock and key around the clock so that no one can get her ear except for them." He sighed. "I'll just have to find a time when neither of us are mic'ed. And then I can also tell her that Grift is an arse. All that guy has on her is his victimhood — that's his whole platform and the only way he's weaseled himself into her good graces. So once I take that away, should be easy for her to see the truth for herself."
James felt a tidal wave of relief wash over him. It sounded like the easiest solution to this gigantic mess. He hoped Sirius could complete his mission soon.
Remus stepped up to James and clapped his shoulder. "Feeling better?"
"Loads."
"Great. Now put on a shirt, you git. You reek," Sirius sassed from the bench.
Remus grinned. "Let's hope this becomes a case of the good guys win. 'Karma is my boyfriend' and all that."
"Remus, did you just quote Miss Taylor Swift?" Sirius jumped to his feet. "You like that song too?"
Remus shot him a shy smile. "Course I do. I love a good bisexual anthem."
Sirius was so busy openly staring at the man that it took him a few seconds to process his words. "Hang on. How is "Karma" a bisexual song?"
"Minute 2:34."
"Huh?"
"Scroll to minute 2:34," Remus instructed.
Sirius nearly dropped his phone in his excitement to do just that. "What are you talking about?" he muttered to himself, finding the correct track.
"You're talking shit for the hell of it, addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant. You're terrified to look down. 'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare, of everyone you burned just to get there. It's coming back around."
"Wait, let it play," James asked, only to be met by a knowing snort from Sirius.
"Yeah, yeah, one second." He used his finger to jump to the moment Remus had referenced, listening with all his might as he put his phone's speaker right to his ear. "What did she say?"
Remus chuckled. "That low part where the main vocals are still saying 'Karma is my boyfriend'? She says 'Karma is my girlfriend.' Boom. Instant bi anthem."
Was it James, or was the tension in the room suddenly sizzling?
"Really? Huh. I'll be damned; would you look at that?" If Sirius grinned any harder, his face would fall clean off. "Good for you Tay-Tay."
All at once, James was very aware that his presence was no longer required. "I'm going to go get myself that ice," James mumbled, mostly to himself as he hobbled out of the locker room, making sure to firmly shut the door behind him.
Lily
Lily moaned in happiness at the sound of a knock at her door, so happy the PA had arrived with her meal. She'd tried eating light before cocktail parties before, worried she'd be letting all her trainers down, but that had blown up in her face spectacularly the first few times when she realized just how many drinks production handed her throughout the night to try to loosen her up. She'd rather feel properly nourished than close to passing out any day. "Claudette, you're a lifesaver—" she began, swinging the door open to someone who was clearly not Claudette.
"Surprise," Sirius Black said, holding up her dinner bag as he snuck into her villa and closed the door behind them. "You ordered the stroganoff?"
"Hi?" Lily replied unsurely, completely thrown for a loop. "You're not a PA."
"Very astute." Sirius led Lily to her dining table, unpacking her food for her and motioning for her to sit. "You eat, I talk."
As far as deals went, Lily didn't think it was a bad trade. She was still curious about what the host of the show was doing in her place though. "Does production know you're here?"
Sirius looked from the front door back to her. "No. And I'd like to keep it that way."
Lily heard him loud and clear, nodding as she speared a mushroom with her fork. "Okay."
"Sorry, stealing the food off the PA was the only way I could think of to speak with you alone, but I don't know how much time—"
Well now her interest was really piqued. "About what?"
Sirius stole another glance at the front door before clocking that there was also a back one. "James. You've got him all wrong." Lily felt like her bite was three times too large when she swallowed it down her throat. "He's not the bad guy. Grift's been lying to you—"
"Michael?" Lily asked incredulously. He'd been the only man really giving her any useful information to go off of this entire time! He'd been the only one to tell her about the guy with the girlfriend for crying out loud. Production wouldn't have let Tyler get kicked out of the group for that without at least some proof, right? Otherwise this whole situation would have been completely immoral.
"Yes," Sirius replied. "He's the one talking shit about you behind your back. James actually really fucking—"
There was a pounding at the door. "Lily, it's me!" Petra had come to join her for dinner.
Sirius swore under his breath, making for the sliding glass door behind them. "I'm sorry I can't give you any concrete evidence, but James likes you, I promise. He does!"
"Lily?" Petra knocked more incessantly.
"Watch your back!" Sirius whispered, before sliding the door shut behind him and sneaking away through Lily's backyard.
What. The. Fuck.
Lily got up and ambled over to open the door for Petra in a complete daze. Everything had all just happened so fast, it was almost hard to believe that it had even happened at all. On the one hand, she barely knew Sirius, and she'd been glued to Petra's hip now for weeks. While both Michael and James had plenty of reasons to lie to her, Petra and Sirius both didn't. Which made it all the more confusing now that they seemed to be on opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to their opinions on those two men. Well. Maybe not opposites. Sirius was defending James, but it felt like if James was really a good person like Sirius claimed, Petra would be lying by omission. Her producer knew how much Lily was struggling with her complicated feelings for James. Even if she tried not to talk about it, it had to be obvious! Hell, the woman knew when she was ovulating for fuck's sake, it should be easy as cake to know when she was crushing on one of her guys.
Why do I believe Sirius? As Lily opened the door, and saw Petra there with her own meal balancing on top of her trusty clipboard, she realized what Sirius had said about James had to have been true. He was risking his job to come talk to her. Petra was creating no waves to keep hers. I believe him.
"Hey, what took you so long?" Petra teased, taking out her earpiece and walking in, unpacking her dinner next to Lily's. "Did you already get started?"
Lily watched her a little uneasily. "Yeah, I did… Sorry, I was starved." Oh how she wished she was alone to process Sirius' bombshell in peace. "I've changed my mind," she suddenly announced, surprising even herself.
But the longer Lily thought about it, the more sense it made: fuck the way she'd been letting everyone else dictate her decisions. It was stupid as hell, and it ended now.
"Oh?" Petra asked, pouring dressing over her salad.
"The second one-on-one date next week? I want it with Potter, not Michael."
Next Chapter: Costa Rica
Yaaaaay, their first real date is coming! :) :D
Thanks for reading, until next time! Cheers!