"HURRY UP, MINI, EVEN EVAN IS HERE!" Marcel's voice filled the entire hotel room as Evan walked in. "HE'S GOT MORE PARTS OF HIMSELF TO WASH THAN YOU DO AND YOU'RE TAKING FUCKING FOREVER!"
"Whoah, Marcel, if the entire building can't hear you…" Brock laughed as he settled himself into a soft chair in the quaint hotel room, his muscular body assuming a closed, awkward posture in the small chair.
"What's up with Craig?" Evan asked.
"I'm taking a shit, give me a damn moment!" Craig yelled back, out of sight, his voice echoing from the bathroom. "Keep your fucking pants on!"
"Look at this," Marcel rolled his eyes dramatically as he scowled. "Me, Tyler and Anthony had to share a fucking room with this fucker the other year. I had to share a damn bed with this motherfucker."
"Hey, at least the arrangements are more forgiving now." Brock said cheerily. "Everyone gets an entire bed to themselves. I mean, I'd have come that time. It sounded like a whole lot of fun."
Tyler snorted, lounging at the foot of the bed. "You wouldn't say that if you had to squeeze yourself and three other grown men in a tiny room."
"Regardless, I'm just glad to be here again this year," Moo chuckled. "It's just really nice to see more and more of us coming together for PAX. Just think, someday we'll be able to have all our friends, even Nogla and Brian here with us."
"Yeah," Tyler nodded in agreement, stretching lazily on the bed. "It's kinda nice that Delirious is coming along this year. After all these years of not knowing what he's actually like, he's almost like a myth. I wonder what made him decide to come. Dude was either tripping balls or being extra stupid that day."
"I'd say both, but given what's happened to him recently…" Marcel stole a quick glance at Evan, before looking away, "…I'd say he's doing this because he wants to. Dude isn't the smartest, but he knows what's best for himself."
Three knocks on the door announced the arrival of even more people. The room instantly became a lot more crowded than before, and a lot warmer than before. After a whole episode of hustling and bustling to make space for each other, Lui settled himself near Evan on the edge of Craig's bed, whilst Arlan quietly slouched in a chair nearby Brock's.
"What's Mini doing?" Lui inquired. "I thought we said we'll be going at six thirty."
"Taking a huge-ass shit, apparently," Marcel grumbled. "Either that or he's busy doing something else."
"Ugh." Lui made a face. "How long has he been in there?"
"Ask Tyler, he was here first before Mini went to take the hugest dump in existence."
"About forty minutes now," Tyler said, holding his wrist up to his face and sliding his jacket up to reveal his wristwatch. "I'm actually beginning to think he's trying to stall us from seeing Delirious since he and Evan already got first dibs on that."
Another couple of hasty glances at Evan were exchanged around the room, as though the guys were being particularly wary around Evan with their words. The atmosphere was strangely tense, as if the guys were expecting a reaction from Evan. Evan frowned. They're avoiding talking about something.
"What's up?" Evan asked, crossing his arms and leaning back. He looked around at the faces of his friends, each hiding a look of mild guilt.
"Well?" Evan demanded. "You guys are acting weird. Every time you mention Jona- sorry, Delirious – you guys make a weird expression and you guys keep looking at me like I'm going to explode or something. And…to be quite honest… you guys haven't mentioned him in the past few months."
The room fell silent. A silent conversation seemed to be taking place between the rest of the people in the room, and Evan was thoroughly lost. The silence dragged out uncomfortably, until Tyler suddenly snapped.
"God damn it, you idiots," he half-yelled, sitting up forcefully. "I'm fucking tired of this shit. Evan is our friend. Delirious is also our friend. I don't fucking care what the fuck happened to them, I just want to be able to talk about my friends and to my friends without worrying about shit. I want to play with my friends, man, all of them, both Delirious and Evan included, so I'm done trying to step around the both of them like they're fucking bombs waiting to explode. They're friends, we're all friends. We're all grown men. Whatever shit's going on, they'll fix it on their own, so quit acting like they're children that'll die just hearing each other's names."
Satisfied with saying his piece, Tyler returned to lounging on the foot of the bed, swinging his feet about. Evan swallowed silently, processing what had just been said. The guys had been avoiding the topic of Jonathan in front of him, and avoided mentioning him in front of Jonathan. Jonathan had been there whenever he wasn't. Does he hate me so much to avoid me now…? Evan's chest tensed up as a sharp ache settled in his heart.
Marcel sighed. "I'm done, too. This is going nowhere. Avoiding this shit isn't going to solve their problems. You've got to talk to him, Evan. This weekend's the perfect chance."
"Yeah," Brock chimed in gently. "It'll be fine. You guys just need to talk it out. Whatever happens, you guys will always be friends, best of friends. There's nothing that fact can't mend. Besides… if there's anything we know, you guys will be doing what you guys know best sooner than you think."
Evan felt hands gently patting his back in encouragement. A warmth spread through his body, the familiar warmth of support.
"Look, guys," he began. "It's going to be fine. I know it wasn't easy for you guys, all this back and forth between the two of us – and I'm sorry that we put you guys in this situation – but it's fine, guys, really. Like Tyler said, it doesn't hurt to hear about him, whatever happens. We're all friends, aren't we? So we'll stay friends, as always."
From the bathroom came a loud flush and the sound of a can of air freshener being sprayed furiously. Moments later, Craig emerged from the bathroom, shutting the door quickly behind him. "What did I miss?"
"What the fuck was that, did you shit out an entire planet?" Tyler asked incredulously. "We're running late to go get Luke and Delirious."
"Hey, nature called. But what did I miss, tell me!"
The guys looked at each other for a long moment, and laughed as the stood, preparing to go. As Evan passed Craig, he patted his shoulder. "Come on, let's go meet them. We'll fill you in on the way."
In an empty restaurant, Jonathan and Luke sat opposite each other. Jonathan's head was barely propped up on the table by his folded arms, and he let out soft little groans of distress every once in a while, noises that were responded to by dark glances from Luke.
"I take it back, Luke, I wanna back out now," Jonathan whined with his head in his arms, his voice muffled. "This is the worst decision I've ever made."
"I won't back out on this," Luke repeated his words back at him. "Famous last words. Too bad, though, we're here and they're coming soon. Even if you wanted to back out now, it's way too late. Didn't you also say that you didn't want to disappoint them?"
"It's too much, Luke," Jonathan groaned. "Too many of them at once."
"Too bad. You said you'd do it, now you're gonna do it. Besides, if you're gonna bail on this, how the fuck are you gonna survive the next three days at PAX?"
"I don't know. I don't even know how I managed to hold up all the way here. Maybe I should just book a ticket back to North Carolina now. Like… I should just go home, hole up in my room and not come out for the next year or so. God, what the hell was I thinking when I decided to do this?"
Luke narrowed his eyes at Jonathan, before reaching over his head and grabbing the hood of his jacket and pulling it over Jonathan's head roughly. The man yelped softly into his arms, protesting furiously at the treatment.
"It's too late to be self-conscious, buddy, you're gonna meet them, like it or not. God, where are they? They're fuckin' late."
As if upon command, a group of men appeared by the doorway, laughing and talking amongst themselves with wide grins upon their faces. Their excitement was apparent, and their presence was like light amongst the doom and gloom at the table that Jonathan and Luke sat at. Jonathan stiffened at the sound of one very distinct and familiar voice that he had heard so many times. It was time to face his fears, to face the man that had stolen his heart.
Timidly, he raised his head gently such that it was gently propped up by his chin on his arms, his body still hunched over on the table. The group of faces that was moving towards them through the door was absolutely familiar, seen through countless photos and videos that they had. It began to dawn on him that there was nothing he could do to reverse his situation now – he had to see them, and there was no amount of running that he could do that could fix this.
His eyes caught the familiar brown of Evan's. The man looked at him intently, a small, encouraging smile on his face. He gently nodded at Jonathan, and Jonathan could almost imagine him patting him gently on the back, giving him the strength he needed to face his friends for the first time. At the very same time, he felt a small ache in his heart as he took in all of the small enticing smile.
"Oh. My. God." Marcel burst out, his gaze straight towards Jonathan. "That is not – It can't be –"
Jonathan bit his lip as he felt what seemed like a gazillion pair of eyes turn in his direction, examining him from head to toe. Almost instantly, the group had migrated themselves over to the table, and Luke stood up to greet them, exchanging hugs and pats on the back.
"So I guess this is Delirious, then." Brock smiled warmly at Jonathan, extending his hand towards the man. "It's so nice to actually see you. You are as cute as Craig said you were."
Jonathan felt the heat creeping into his cheeks, and he took Brock's hand, shaking it awkwardly. "Uhm, hi. And thanks."
Marcel was the next to take his hand and shake it eagerly. "Man… it's great to see you after so long. I can't believe I'm actually seeing the face behind the laugh."
Jonathan repeated the process as he took Marcel's hand and shook it, this time with slightly more confidence than before. With each face that greeted him and with each hand that he shook, he felt bolder and bolder, and less and less strange. It was as though they were all old friends, and all the first introductions were but an empty ritual that served merely to highlight their familiarity with each other.
When it came to Craig, the young man did not extend his hand towards Jonathan. Instead, he threw himself at him, taking Jonathan into a tight bear hug that threatened to squeeze the breath out of his lungs.
"Mini," he gasped. "You're squeezing me to death."
"God, I missed you and your face," Mini wailed. "After all that's happened to you…God…"
"Mini," he barely breathed out as the man squeezed him even tighter. "You're really strong and I can't breathe."
He felt the man release him, and he shuddered slightly as fresh air finally flooded back into his lungs. Mini mouthed his apology at him, smiling sheepishly as he slid away to settle himself by Luke, giving way as Evan stepped forth, an expectant look in his eyes.
The world around the two of them seemed to come to a standstill. Everyone seemed to stop breathing and exchanging their greetings, and all eyes seemed to be planted on the pair, watching them intently.
"Uhm," Evan began hesitantly, unsure. "It's been some time."
"Yeah," Jonathan mumbled, his heart pumping furiously under the layers of clothes. "Some - some time indeed."
"You look so much better than before. Is the arm and the leg okay?"
"Much better, thanks." Jonathan returned awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. He had a million things that he had on the tip of his tongue, a million words that he swallowed straight back into the depths of his chest when he saw Evan once more. His courage had failed him once more, and he hated himself bitterly for that.
"Uhh…Should we just eat?" Brock cut in, and sat down on the seat next to Jonathan's, gently easing his tension with a hand on his shoulder. "I'm curious to know more about Delirious now that we've actually met him."
"You guys can actually call me Jonathan." He murmured softly, barely meeting the expectant eyes of his friends. "I mean, you guys already know that, but… it's kind of odd not hearing my own name in real life."
Brock chuckled softly, plucking a menu from the side of the tables. "Sure thing, Jonathan. Speaking of food, we heard from Craig you're a great cook."
"Not… really." Jonathan replied, playing with the drawstrings on his jacket. "I mean… I'm decent enough to survive."
"Aw, come off it," Craig moaned. "You practically made us four-star breakfast right there that morning."
"And gave it to him in bed." Luke sniggered, and Jonathan shot a dark look at the man, only to have him laugh harder, until Craig growled at him to shut up.
"You lucky bastards got treated to some real good food, then," Tyler chimed in. "I expect to be invited to a fucking feast one of these days. No pressure, though. Just saying that we've all been friends for so long and I'd like to be treated to something nice as well."
Jonathan gave Tyler a sheepish smile. "One day, Tyler. One day."
The boys continued in their efforts to understand Jonathan much better – asking him questions about his life, about what he's been doing and how his life was like. The arrival of dinner barely stopped the barrage of questions that Jonathan was assaulted with, and instead added on to the attention that Jonathan was gathering. Even those not asking questions were tuned in to the ongoing conversations with him, stealing glances every few minutes in his direction. The effect of it all was a mild discomfort that Jonathan gladly took over having to face Evan.
"Anyway, you're not planning to do a face reveal, are you?" Marcel asked, polishing off the last of his meal. "Doesn't seem like it's something you'd do straight off the bat."
Jonathan shook his head. "I'm not. It's just you guys. To be honest… I was kind of freaking out already just meeting you guys."
"Aw, what for?" Brock looked over at him, a small, encouraging smile plastered on his face. "It's just us. We're all friends, and we've all been friends for the longest time. Just because we haven't seen your face doesn't make you any less foreign to us. You're still the same old Delirious to us – well, with the added adorableness."
Jonathan flushed at Brock's words as murmurs of agreement resounded around the tables, along with soft, barely suppressed laughter from Tyler.
"What?!" Brock sounded indignant.
"First Evan and now you. You both sound fucking gay when you guys talk to him, I swear to god."
"Hey, I'm telling the truth at least. He is really cute."
"Yeah, right. Just don't get your dick stuck up his butt the night after tomorrow." Tyler dismissed, roaring with laughter.
"Okay, nobody is going to go get their dicks stuck up anybody's butt at any point this weekend, okay?" Lui giggled. "Luke and Mini are already going to drag our sorry asses back to our hotels, I don't think they needs to see anything more."
"Thanks, Lui," Luke called out, whilst Craig half yelled – "I'm of drinking age, god damn it!"
Jonathan had to laugh, and he did, feeling the tension ease from his chest. The scene was so familiar, and the way they were speaking to each other was not out of the ordinary. They were like old friends who knew each other inside out, spending time together, eating together, and sharing inside jokes with each other. Their friendship had not changed one bit offline. At least with most of us, he thought.
"It does kind of suck not being able to hang out the whole time though." Arlan pointed out. "You've got to hide or pretend to just be a fan when we're doing the more high profile stuff."
"It does, but I'll find a way to stick with you guys, I promise."
The group slowly broke up, leaving the restaurant, their stomachs full and most of their curiosity sated from their first meeting with Jonathan. As Luke and Jonathan waved to the rest of the group and left them, trudging off in the opposite direction, the others started off back towards their hotel in a slow stroll. Lui and Arlan headed the procession, turning back every once in a while to joke and talk with Tyler, Craig and Marcel. Evan, however, sidled behind the rest quietly, deep in thought, only to be joined by Brock.
"He's really pretty, you know?" Brock teased. "I think I was right about him being worth every sacrifice."
"Doesn't matter, does it? You saw how he reacted when he saw me." Evan sighed softly, his eyes pinned towards the ground.
"I wouldn't worry that much if I were you. He looked like he was just about losing it when he first saw us."
"No, Brock, you don't get it. You didn't feel what I felt, I don't think anybody did. He felt so distant. It almost didn't feel like we were friends back there. It's as if I don't even know him anymore, Brock. I don't know what to do."
"I don't think he hates you, if that's what you mean." Brock reassured. "I know you guys won't have much of a chance over the weekend, but you two need a heart to heart talk. Without any of us around, just the two of you. He needs to hear how you feel about him. And you need to hear him out badly."
"But -" Evan began to protest
"Evan, listen. You love him, don't you? So chase after him. Before he's gone or gets snatched up by someone else. You've nearly missed your chance once. Don't let it go again."
"Okay – we have a panel set in the afternoon at two, and we have to be there by one, so that gives us plenty of time for a lunchtime getaway with Jonathan –"
"Not plenty of time, we'd only have half an hour at maximum." Tyler interjected. "We'd only get there at eleven or so, and I'm prepared to be swarmed until twelve-thirty."
He narrowed his eyes suddenly, and glanced over at a camera pointed to his face. "Stop trying to make me say it!"
"Say it, I dare you," Craig laughed.
Tyler rolled his eyes, and took a bite of his pancakes, before announcing, "Puncake!"
Stifled giggles resounded around the table, each person trying their best not to laugh out loud.
"Okay, okay," Lui began again, barely able to hold back fits of laughter himself. "Back to business. If lunchtime is out, then we're only left with tonight. Which is out since half of us are invited to a party the other half of us aren't."
"Who says you guys can't hang out with him? It's not like everybody has to be there." Evan mumbled, barely wanting to be heard.
"It's not the same, Evan, you know that. Especially without you here."
"So we can't really hang with him that much today." Arlan concluded with an air of disappointment. "Well, look forward to tomorrow, I guess."
"God, I'm still not used to matching his face with his voice, though," Tyler said, his mouth full. "It's going to take some time to get used to that."
"Nah, he looks just like how he sounds like. I don't have any problem with that." Marcel countered. "It's just that he's acting a little weird and shy at the moment. Once he gets used to us, he'll be loud and goofy as usual."
"Speak of the devil."
The eyes at the table directed themselves to the doorway, where a bearded man entered with a slightly slimmer and smaller man trailing behind him, the portrait of a younger brother meekly following behind his big brother. In Jonathan's hands was a small box slightly larger than the size of his palms, and he held it close to his chest in an incredibly adorable poise. Almost immediately, whatever cameras were out were shoved away.
"Look who's here, Luke and his little lamb." Marcel joked.
"Shut up," Jonathan retorted, smiling almost naturally. He seems better today, Evan thought. More himself. The yearning to grab the man and hold him tight was growing, bit by bit as he watched Jonathan become more and more comfortable, and act more like the man he knew and fell in love with.
Perhaps it was his wishful thinking when he thought he saw a small sliver of pink appear on the man's cheeks when Jonathan caught his eye. With a hint of shyness, Jonathan turned and walked up towards Evan, and held out the little box in his hands, an invitation for Evan to take it.
"It's… it's for you," Jonathan blurted out. "It's to thank you for when you took care of me when I was injured."
Evan took the box from his hands gingerly and examined it. The box was lighter than he thought it would have been, and the contents seemed to be packed within the box well, with no sound being produced when he shook it slightly.
"What is it?" He asked, curiosity taking over.
"Open up and see," Jonathan replied with a cheeky wink. "You'll like it."
Evan felt like a child on Christmas Day again – except his heart was beating faster and more joyfully than ever. There was everything about this little gift that had made it special. The fact that it was given to him personally by Jonathan already made the gift better than any other gifts in the world. The fact that Jonathan held the box so closely to his chest, where his heart beat against it and his warmth still lingered on the surface of it, made the simple act of holding the gift priceless. Gently, he slid a finger underneath the gap at the top of the box and opened the box slowly, revealing a mess of colorful fabric.
"Take it out," Jonathan urged as he saw the confusion on Evan's face. Evan gently began to pull the soft material out of the box, to reveal a small owl plushy, with a pair of shiny, beady eyes and a soft tiny beak.
"It's…" Evan breathed. "It's adorable." Just like you. No… you're more adorable than it is, than anything else out there.
"I'm glad you like it."
"I really do," Evan replied earnestly. "Thank you. So much."
"No, I mean – I should be thanking you." Jonathan flushed slightly, his lip quivering from effort. "After all you did…"
After all I did, you'd hate me. I should be apologizing, not being thanked.
"Thank you, either way. It's really nice." Evan smiled sincerely, and the blush deepened on Jonathan's cheeks, causing the man to bit his lips slightly and look away.
"Aw, I want one too." Craig whined playfully. "I want a cute plushy from Jonathan too."
"Me too," Lui squeaked in a perfect imitation of a child. "He isn't being fair to us, what a meanie."
"What are you guys talking about, I send you guys gifts all the time," Jonathan complained, the red in his cheeks becoming more intense.
"You never give it to us in person, and you never make cute expressions at us. That's already unfair on its own."
"I didn't –" Jonathan began to protest.
"Unfair! Unfair!" Lui squeaked. "Unfaaaaair."
Jonathan gave up mid-protest, and rolled his eyes, before bursting into a soft giggle. The rest of the table soon joined in, unable to hold back, and even Evan had to laugh.
"Anyway… We're really sorry we can't really hang out much with you today, dude. It's pretty packed for us – we've got a panel and we'll probably be swarmed out there. We thought about at least having lunch with you but we probably won't have enough time, either."
"You mean the people headlining the panel wouldn't." Marcel corrected. "The rest of us would happily be in the audience at two and are able to take our own sweet time to have a nice sumptuous lunch."
"It's fine, it really is. It wouldn't kill to be alone for a day, guys, you're acting like I need a companion the whole time." Jonathan reasoned, shrugging.
Multiple eyes darted towards him, concerned. "What?"
"It's your first time in Boston, dude. We're kind of worried you'd get into trouble alone." Tyler said bluntly. "I don't think you've noticed, dude, but shit happens to you whenever it can happen. Even more so because you're pretty, uh… small. You wander into the wrong place, and people are going to have no qualms over starting shit with you."
"You guys act like I've only barely managed to survive on my own for the past ten or so years. And I'm not that small."
"Either way, it's still not a good idea for you to go anywhere alone. If anything, just stay close to us just enough for us to see where you are and for you to know where we are, okay?"
Jonathan let out a soft sigh. "Alright."
Luke reached over to ruffle his hair as he struggled and protested loudly. "That's my boy."
"Alright, it's time to go. Join us at the panel later, okay? It'll be nice to see you in the audience and get some moral support from you." Brock winked as he stood, and the group left the little café, all set and ready for the first day of PAX.
The convention center was packed. Every inch of the grounds of the building was filled with people. In just about every corner were people, dressed in various colors and as various characters. Intense lights also lit the interior of the building alongside numerous displays for different games and upcoming games. Long lines of people adorned the booths, the queues seeming to never end. Everywhere was a hustle and bustle, and it almost seemed too easy for a person to vanish and not be seen again.
"Remember, stay close, okay?" Luke reminded Jonathan as they stood on the escalator without turning his back, and he nodded meekly in response, evidently overwhelmed by the sight and the crowd. Evan glanced over at the man, a slight worry hanging over him. I shouldn't worry, he chanted in his head. He'll be fine, he'll take care of himself. He'll just be nearby, and we'll all take turns to keep an eye on him.
Already, however, the group was begging to split up. A portion of the group wanted to go check out a few displays, and another portion wanted to try out a new indie horror game. The only solid instruction passed around was to be at the panel on time and to catch each other at the panel, before the group split up and left each other to their own devices. Evan himself was dragged away by a zealous fraction of the group to test out an upcoming first person shooter, and as he stumbled away from Jonathan, the worry weighed heavier on his mind. He shot a final glance back towards where he last saw the man, only to see a sea of heads and faces that were not Jonathan's. Quietly, he hoped that the man would be fine, perfectly fine, and he tried his best to ignore the discomfort in his chest and the growing uneasiness in his stomach.
"Damn, this game looks so fucking cool." Tyler gushed, almost uncharacteristically. "How long do you think it'll take us if we queue now?"
"Shouldn't take too long. The matches seem to be going pretty quickly." Evan said as he joined in on the queue. "Do you guys think…"
"Do we think Jonathan managed to keep up? Sure." Craig answered his unfinished question.
"But he just disappeared into the crowd."
"Yeah, but he probably thought we did, too. Except he probably saw Tyler sticking out and followed the giant. Relax, dude. We're all worried, but you're just overreacting now. Just look at yourself. We've been to, what, two booths now and you're not only quieter than usual but you're also less sharp than usual. You probably had one of the worst K/Ds in existence in the last one."
Evan grinned sheepishly. "Yeah… I don't have an excuse."
"Yes, you do, you always do because you'd get embarrassed if you didn't," Tyler responded. "That excuse is Delirious."
"Shut up." It's just strange not hearing him laugh while I play.
"Not gonna." Tyler moved up ahead in the queue towards the front as another group left the rows of computers in the playing area. Evan followed after reluctantly, and was followed by Craig, who smirked gleefully at him.
"How many times since?"
"Since what?"
"What's the count since the first time you saw him again yesterday?" Craig elaborated, the smirk growing larger.
"God, why does it matter so much to you?"
"Stop dodging the question. How many times since yesterday?"
Evan paused, before quietly mumbling in a low voice such that his words were almost inaudible – "About fifteen."
Craig let out a loud whoop and began to laugh hysterically, attracting the attention of countless onlookers. "Fifteen… times…" He choked out between guffaws.
"Shut up, dude, you're embarrassing me," Evan cautioned, temperature rising in his cheeks.
"You mean you're embarrassed at yourself. Fifteen times, holy shit." Craig whispered, trying his best to suppress another wave of laughter. "That's just, what, last night and this morning? How much of it was last night?"
"Shut – you know what? I give up. I'm going to go try out a cool new game and I'm not going to talk to you for the next ten minutes."
"Yeah, and you're going to think of him for the full ten minutes, too." Craig teased as their part of the queue moved up into the playing area and they settled, side by side, at a few computers.
Evan, however, did not respond. Something else had caught his eye from the seat opposite him. A hooded figure had settled there, with his strands of dark hair peeking out from underneath his hoodie and beanie, and a pair of clear blue eyes bored into his. With a cheeky smile, Jonathan gave him a small wave with his fingers, before turning his attention to his own screen, ready to play. Evan could almost hear Jonathan's signature laughter in his head echoing away. It was almost familiar – they were playing together, enjoying themselves together. The one thing that changed it all was that Jonathan was really in front of him, and there was something off about him.
The match entered its preparation phase, and the overlay on the screen was possibly one of the coolest he'd ever seen. Names slowly began to pop up across the screen, with each player typing in their temporary nicknames for the next ten minutes. A nickname on the opponent team stood out particularly to him – Delicious. He smiled to himself. Just like the old days.
The countdown began for the match the officially began. A race began towards the other side of the map, and Evan struggled to grasp the mechanics of the game. When the first kill feeds came in, he only barely managed to understand what he had to do in the game. It was mere seconds, however, before his character was shot in the head by 'Delicious'. He could hear Jonathan's amused laughter in his head as the pair of bright blues peeked out from the side of their screens and gave him another smile – only this time, the smile was odd, its unnaturalness more pronounced.
"What the hell, Evan?" Tyler groused as Evan got shot down yet again, mere moments after he respawned. "You're really not up to par today."
"He's busy thinking about someone," Craig replied, before he paused, looking at something beyond the screens. "No, I take that back. He's busy staring at someone."
"Well, stop staring at that ass then and get your head in the game," Tyler chided, barely even taking his eyes off the screen.
He couldn't. For the rest of the match, Evan was constantly overwhelmed and barely made an impact on the team's score, leading the team to a smattering defeat. As their group stood up, preparing to leave, he saw a glint in the amazing blue as Jonathan stuck a hand out to him, inviting him to a handshake. Evan took his hand, feeling its warmth, and shook it mechanically. There was something odd about the handshake akin to an unfamiliarity, as though he was shaking a stranger's hand instead of a friend's. Their hands were joined in a friendly gesture, yet he felt all the distance in the world between the two of them.
When they released each other from the handshake and walked away from the playing area, the tension did not go unnoticed by Tyler and Craig.
"You okay, dude?"
"Yeah," Evan affirmed. "Just... felt like something was a little odd. It's okay, though."
"Dude, you two need to talk, bad." Tyler said, frowning slightly. "I don't want to ruin the mood now that we've started to have fun and all, but you two looked like you guys were hiding some serious shit back there. I don't know how he's like in real life, but so far he's been acting further and further away from the Delirious we know."
"Yeah," Craig nodded in agreement. "I spent around two days around him and I still think he's acting weirder and weirder by the minute. Like he's trying to keep up appearances or something. You guys really need to talk. I don't know when, but you guys have to do it."
"I know, and I will," Evan responded. "I just don't know how, or when. And when we do get to talk… I don't even know what I'm going to say."
"Is this thing even on?" Lui's squeak reverberated across the room. The crowd laughed, and Lui smiled, continuing, "Is everybody ready?"
A loud 'Yes!' resounded from the crowd, before descending into a mess of murmurs.
"Okay, uh," Lui began again in his regular voice. "Wow, I don't even know how to start. I'm kind of amazed there are so many people here to begin with, that so many people watch us and want to watch a bunch of nerds talk for an hour. Anyway, we're going to start. I'm Lui, and, well, we have Mini Ladd, Wildcat, Vanoss, and for the first time since I made him stand up in the audience, Moo Snuckel!"
Each of them waved into the audience awkwardly.
"To be honest I don't even know how this came about," Craig began. "One day the organizers just asked us if we wanted a panel just for ourselves and our friends, so we decided – why not?"
"Except they wanted to call it, what, the 'Vanoss crew panel'?" Lui said. "We told them we weren't a group, and that we're just individual friends that play together. Except we can't get all our friends up here today, so some of them are stuck in the audience again."
"You're going to make them stand up again aren't you?" Craig asked incredulously, an eyebrow raised.
"Yeah. Like – Cartoonz, Marcel and Droidd are over there," Lui pointed out to a small area in the left portion of the audience where the three men sat. "We saw Scott and Anthony earlier but I think they decided to go touch tips or something, I don't know. Stand up and say hi, you guys."
The three men's reactions were as different as it could get. Arlan stood up slowly and hesitantly, whilst Marcel raised a hand to flip them the bird. Luke, however, shot up instantly, only to cup his hands to his mouth and jeer loudly, "Boo!"
The audience burst into loud laughter as the three men settled back down. Evan made out another familiar face amongst them, just next behind Luke – Jonathan. At least he's here. He wrung his hands tighter than ever and tried to steady his breathing, trying to think about something else other than what felt like millions of pairs of eyes on him. The incredible amount of attention he got made his head spin. He could feel the urge to simply hop up from his seat and make a beeline towards the nearest door growing in his chest. The tension was electric, surging through his body, from head to toe and from his depths to his extremities. All he could do in the moment was to focus on the calming blue he saw in the midst of the crowd.
"Alright, so screw those guys, we're going to get on with our panel. So, wherever you guys are watching right now, live here in this hall or at home on a livestream or on video, we're all really glad to have everybody join us here. It makes all those numbers that we see and all those comments that we see online a little more real, and it's insane to think that so many people out there follow us and watch our videos. But enough of hearing from me – let's start taking some questions from the crowd."
A few hands immediately shot up in the air where Luke, Marcel and Arlan sat. Rolling his eyes dramatically, Lui called out to them – "What, you guys?"
A microphone was passed to them, and Marcel simply asked – "Yeah, uh, this question is for all of you guys. When are you guys going to, uh, you know, give us some of your subscribers so we can be on the panel as well?"
"I'm sorry – who are you guys?" Craig answered, mirth bubbling in his voice. "Are you guys supposed to be YouTubers?"
Another wave of laughter from the crowd. A few more hands began to shoot up from within the crowd, this time with less hesitance. A few shuffles of the microphone led to another question, this time from a high, sharp voice – "Do you guys think that each person in a video play a different role to make it really successful, and if so, who usually does what?"
The guys looked around at each other quietly for a moment, thinking.
"Well," Tyler spoke up after a short pause, "I won't say that everyone plays a specific role in a video, because we simply invite whoever wants to come along into the call to play and then let things happen from there. Of course – different people make different funny moments come alive. Like for example if you have Lui, he'd play around with the squeaker voice and sometimes funny stuff comes from that."
"And, well –" Evan began uncertainly, his voice wavering slightly. The blue, Evan, the blue, focus on the blue. "Like Tyler said, it's not about the roles that make a video successful or funny, it's really the people that make things happen. A combination of different people makes a certain dynamic work and I think that changes why something is funny in a video."
"Like, let's say, I like to just talk shit a lot and me and Evan usually end up taking one idea way too far and it just creates these phrases that everyone repeats for a long time after the videos come out," Tyler added.
"Or when Nogla is around and he says a lot of incomprehensible things and sometimes that makes up for a lot of the funny moments as well." Brock stated.
"Yeah, and to add to that," Craig gently directed the microphone towards him. "I guess it's because we all have our own personality – we're not trying to create a sort of group where everybody has their own set roles to fit into. Everybody is an individual and when we play with each other our personalities just add to each other. It's not that much of, let's say, because we need someone to act silly, we'll invite our friend H2O Delirious, or like if we need someone to rage we get our friend Nogla. It's more of us bringing along our friends to play with us, and then their personalities – like Delirious's crazy laugh and Nogla's funny raging – make everything all the funnier."
From the corner of his eyes, Evan could have sworn he saw a dull tinge of pink brush across the blue, and a small, appreciative smile appear on Jonathan's lips as Craig spoke, conviction coloring every word.
"Yeah, and I guess it's also always great to know who you're playing with well – like, uh, hashtag friendship. I mean – that's what really makes things work, since you know what to do or say that will make the best out of every gameplay session." Lui concluded, exchanging glances across the panel before asking - "Next question?"
"Um, hi," A small voice piped up. "Big fan of all your videos. I'm just wondering what do you guys think of Let's Players who play mainly using their face-cam as a part of the video's focus and is it a necessary part of success as a YouTuber?"
"I don't think it is." Evan answered brusquely.
"Yeah, I don't think it is, either." Craig agreed, nodding. "I think it's really a personal choice. I use mine for certain games especially the solo games that I play. Some of us don't even use it for any of our gaming videos. I don't think there's a set formula for success. We have friends that have never shown their face and they're still quite popular amongst you guys. It's the personality that counts – if you come across as a funny and likeable person and your content is really creative, I think that matters more to success than a face."
A face, huh? Evan mused, glancing back into the crowd where Jonathan sat quietly. There's definitely more to him than just a face. He's so much more.
"How about another question then? Maybe from this side of the audience now."
"Uh, hi, also a big fan. I wanted to ask – do you guys have any advice for people wanting to start up their YouTube channels?"
"Well, if it's really something you want to do, and you really enjoy making videos, then give it a shot. It's not for everybody, not everyone will enjoy it. It's always been my motto – do something you enjoy and you'll never have to work a single day in your life."
"Agreed. Any thoughts on that, Evan?" Brock gently nudged the dazed man.
"Uh," Evan began, still staring into the one thing that kept him calm. "I guess… it's important to truly love your dream first. It's easy to love an illusion, I mean - it's easy to like what being a YouTuber seems like, but it's not easy to keep up with it. There's a lot of effort to be put in. There's a lot more to regret if you're going to give up everything for something you're not truly passionate about. But if you are, go for it. Whatever hardships then would be just a breeze."
Jonathan rolled about in bed, heart pounding and his head heavy. Fatigue weighed him down on the bed, yet he was sleepless – memories and thoughts kept popping into his head, disturbing the silence and the darkness that he had tried so hard to maintain in his mind.
He had barred himself from feeling too much for Evan, yet the feelings kept spilling over, out of his control. He tried hard not to think of Evan after meeting him again for the first time in months, but not long after he had left the restaurant after his first meeting with the guys, Evan shot through his thoughts at every chance there was.
Simply walking down the street back to their hotel and passing by a gift store with an owl plushy in the window display made him think of Evan and how much he liked owls. Before he'd even had time to process what he was doing, he had already purchased the owl plushy and caught up to Luke. He then spent the night pondering why he had done that, and how he would give it to Evan just as a friend.
And when he did give the gift to Evan, his heart could have imploded into a million fragments from the sheer desire to confess how he felt, right there and then. It took all the restraint in the world for him to look away from the man he loved so dearly, the man who let an adorable side of him shine through just for a second. He had to breathe and remind himself that he couldn't feel that way, not while he was trying to be a good friend to Evan.
And Evan throughout the entire of that day, too. The little match made their friendship feel so familiar for the first time in a long time. But the moment their hands met, the warmth and the electric tingle that ran through his fingers just reminded him how unattainable Evan was for him. He'd have ran away if not for the fact that he didn't want to make Evan think that he hated him. In retrospect, he was right to not have run away and stayed away, not when Evan looked so lost and uncomfortable during the panel. The man had emanated the very sort of discomfort that was covered up professionally by a face of candor, the very sort that Jonathan knew all too well. He was right to not have left Evan's side. Yet, watching Evan talk, listening to his voice and knowing that Evan was cracking under the public attention, all that made the torture all the more painful. He was barred to Jonathan, and Jonathan had to be just a good friend.
Jonathan rolled onto his back and let out a year's worth of loud sighs. The second day of PAX had rolled around, with the clock on his phone reading 3:17A.M. He had spent more than three full hours awake in the dark, thinking of Evan, thinking of a person that he wasn't supposed to consider a potential love interest any longer. Damn it, Jonathan. He's a friend. Just a friend. I don't care what you feel for him, he's just a friend. He wants it this way. He sighed heavily once more, his heart unconvinced by his own urging.
"I can hear you in my sleep," Luke groused sleepily. "I swear to god, you make more noise when you can't sleep than when you can."
"Sorry."
Luke sighed and turned onto his side reluctantly, looking at Jonathan with sleep-ridden eyes. "Penny for your thoughts."
"I think I'm going crazy."
"You're always crazy. Nothing's changed about that fact."
"No… I mean…" Jonathan sighed again. "Have you ever wanted something really bad, so much that you can't help it, but you know you can't get it and probably shouldn't get it?"
"This is about Evan, isn't it?" Luke murmured, his eyelids shutting slowly once more. "That whole 'He doesn't want me, so I'm not gonna make him want me' thing?"
"He doesn't, Luke."
"He does. And you want him. I'm not gonna waste my breath or my sleep trying to convince you, dude."
"But he said he doesn't. And I… it's not easy watching him struggle when he's getting too much attention. It's not even easy seeing him happy, much less seeing him happy to see me. It's too much, Luke. Luke?"
A soft snore had risen again from the older man's mouth. Luke was fast asleep once more, not listening to Jonathan or his doubts. He was all alone, driven nearly insane by them. He lay back in bed and stared at the ceiling, watching as the darkness swirled before him.
He had no idea when he fell asleep, or how he managed to even fall asleep. All he knew was that after what felt like mere moments later, his eyes shot open to see light flooding into the room through the curtains, and with the lamps in the hotel room dimmed. His head spun slightly as he sat up in bed and looked around. Luke was nowhere to be seen – his bed was empty and the bathroom doors were ajar, revealing a completely vacant space.
He reached out towards his phone on the table by his bedside, only to find a piece of paper underneath it. Curious, he shifted his phone aside to reveal Luke's handwriting scrawled across the page –
"Good morning, or afternoon or whenever you wake up. I hope you slept well. I'd say I hope you had sweet dreams, but you weren't making noises so I thought it's one of those times when you were so exhausted you just straight up collapsed and didn't even dream of anything. Anyway, I couldn't wake you. You were pretty much sleeping like a log, which I expected to happen since you only slept for, what, three hours? I don't know. I don't even know what time you woke me up with your goddamned sighing. Anyway, I'll tell the guys about you needing some extra sleep. You haven't even been sleeping well these few days, anyway. We'll all be at the convention center until dinner time, just walking around and checking out games until our fan meet-up in the afternoon. Give me a call when you're there – NO DETOURS. If you're still not up by then, call me whenever you're up and stay in the hotel. I'll come back to bring you to wherever we're having dinner and drinks. Luke."
Oh, god. How long did I sleep?
A press of a button on his phone screen – 12:38P.M. He had slept the whole morning away and he had completely missed a morning of checking out games at the convention. He scrambled to his feet hastily to wash up and get dressed. A small growl sounded from his stomach, and he groaned. Food before getting to them, I guess.
Evan looked around through the crowd that was beginning to surround him. The face he had wanted to see was nowhere to be found. Luke had told them that he was finally catching up on his sleep, but even after the entire morning, he was still nowhere to be found. As the crowd closed in, surrounding him and his friends, he exchanged a despaired look with Luke, and the man shrugged.
"Hi, uh, Vanoss?" A young boy approached. "Big fan of your videos. Could you sign this for me?"
Evan took a long, deep breath, and the mask of professionalism was put on again. His lips curved themselves into the most perfect and sincere smile he could muster. "Sure. What's your name?"
"Kevin."
"Alright then," he took the autograph book from the young boy and signed, the professional grin never leaving his face. "For Kevin."
He watched as the young boy's eyes sparkled in delight as he received the autograph from his idol, and as the boy stuttered out his thanks and hopped off the show off the signature to a friend, a momentary warmth filled him – a warmth that came from the joy of being appreciated. The feeling faded out quickly enough to give way to panic as the eager crowd before him thickened. He was about to be swarmed by people who wanted an autograph or a picture from him. Not a single face in the crowd was the one that he needed to see, badly.
Resigned, he began to work through the countless amounts of fans and fan requests. Signature after signature, photograph after photograph, each interaction a cycle of mild panic and then momentary joy. It was the same thing every single time. He was happy enough to know that people liked what he did, and he did like putting a face to a portion of the millions that he had entertained. He tried his hardest to keep reminding himself of that fact. The immense attention he was getting in a public setting, however, made him question all that he tried to tell himself.
As the crowd began to finally thin, a pair of pale, thin hands slid a small notebook into his hands. The notebook was clear of signatures, with a small line of words scribbled hastily through the middle of the page – "It's all okay. They just want to show their appreciation for you. Hang in there for a bit more!"
"Could you sign this for me?" A voice said. The voice was more than familiar, yet the accent that usually came with it was off, and the voice was deeper and lower than usual. Evan looked up, tracing his eyes across the dark blue hoodie that the person wore. Jonathan stared back out at him from underneath the hood of his jacket. Whatever composure Evan had then was nearly lost.
"Uh, sure." Evan nearly stammered, his voice wavering. A flick of his marker and his signature appeared across the page. "What's your name…?"
"Jonathan."
"Alright…For Jonathan." Evan mumbled as he scribbled on the page – "Thank you. You're a great person, Jonathan."
With an appreciative smile, he handed the notebook back to Jonathan. "Here you go."
"Thank you… Vanoss."
Jonathan sidled away from him into a small corner nearby with a small forlorn smile on his face. Evan's attention never left him, and he was always aware of the man in the corner waiting for his friends. Jonathan's presence gave him an immense amount of comfort, calming him and steadying his nerves.
When the last of the crowd began to shift away, the sun was beginning to set slightly, casting an orange hue upon them. As the guys began to re-group, Jonathan walked slowly towards them, hood still cautiously over his head.
"Hey look, the sleepyhead is finally here," Marcel called out.
"Did you have sweet dreams?" Brock chuckled.
"Not really," Jonathan replied. "More like a blackout."
"Well, you missed out a whole bunch. Tons of cool new games that we played without you."
"Aw," Jonathan pouted. "I guess I'll check them out all on my own tomorrow. Dinner and drinks?"
"Dinner and drinks."
The small gastropub was packed. Loud music blasted through speakers and all around was even louder laughter and people speaking at the very top of their voices. The guys sat huddled close to one another at a large table, arms brushing at every movement. The table was soon filled with plates of food as well as various glasses of drinks, and almost as soon as the food appeared, it disappeared, leaving the tabletop full of alcoholic drinks.
"That's a lot of alcohol," Jonathan noted as a tray of suspiciously clear liquids set themselves on the table.
"Hey, go hard or go home, right?" Marcel yelled over the commotion. "Unless you're Luke, but he's our safety net for when we become drunk bastards later."
"At your service," Luke replied. "What's up with that many drinks, anyway?"
"Drinking game. You always need a damn drinking game."
"Yep. Never have I ever?" Craig asked to nods around the table. "Okay, ground rules. For every strike, you have to down a drink on this table. That is to say – either a shot of vodka, a martini, or a small mug of beer. If something you want isn't on the table, too bad, settle for something else. Alright? I'll start."
Craig cleared his throat. "Never have I ever…taken a shower with a guy."
Evan shot a dark look at Craig, who winked back cheekily in response. "Damn you," he growled.
"Why, taken one with a guy before?" Tyler asked inquisitively.
"I was a kid, okay," Evan explained in annoyance. "And don't you guys take baths with your siblings when you were kids at the very least?"
"Yeah, except it doesn't matter that much when you don't remember it," Craig answered. "Drink up, man."
Three hands shot out to the glasses at the center of the table. Evan picked out a shot of vodka alongside Marcel, whilst Jonathan settled for a martini, and upon picking their drinks, the three shot confused looks at each other.
"You, too?" Marcel gaped at Jonathan. "I mean, I remember some of mine with my brother, but if I remember correctly you just have a sister."
"Someone I used to date," Jonathan said in a small voice. "Go ahead, give me shit for that."
"Shit, man," Tyler began. "But we're not really surprised, to be honest. You're always so… I don't know..."
"What he's trying to say is, you're always so fabulous." Craig finished. "Drink up, you fucks."
Evan sighed, defeated, and tipped the contents of the shot glass into his mouth, feeling the burn of the strong alcohol hit his throat as he swallowed. It was as though he was swallowing a mouthful of cold flames, and he choked slightly, coughing and sputtering.
"God, that was strong," he coughed out. "I didn't think it would be that strong."
"Pft," Brock chuckled. "We're only getting started. Okay, my turn. I'll do it for Luke too, then, since he's not playing. Never have we ever gotten really, really wasted."
"How much is really, really wasted?" Jonathan frowned slightly.
"Let's just say… so wasted you don't even remember what you were doing. Own up, motherfuckers." Luke grinned triumphantly.
Almost all the people at the table reached out for a drink, and Evan reached out for another shot of vodka, downing the cold burning liquid in one go once more. He could already feel the buzz in his head growing.
"My turn, I guess." Jonathan swallowed the last bit of beer, making a face. "Never have I ever been to more than one country in my life."
"Really?! You had to pick that one?!" Craig groaned out loud and reached for a martini. The rest began to follow suit and picked their poison, Evan included. For what felt like the umpteenth time that night, he downed another shot of vodka. There is no way I'm not getting wasted tonight.
"Seriously though? Not even to Canada or Mexico?" Lui queried as he swallowed the last of his beer.
"You can change the question to 'more than five states' and he'd still be in the clear." Luke grinned. "He's a damn homebody."
"Speaking of countries, then…Never have I ever been to Canada." Tyler smiled deviously. "Drink up, snowman."
"This is unfair, you guys are targeting me specifically with these." Evan whined as he chose the glass of beer this time.
"There aren't any rules that said we couldn't."
"Then I'll shoot this next one at you. Never have I ever lived in a Southern state." Evan shot back without thinking.
A soft whine rose from one side of the table as Jonathan and Tyler both reached for their drinks. "Someday, Evan, that won't be true," Tyler warned as he downed a shot. Yeah, someday, Evan thought. Someday…
After an entire round around the table, some specific statements directed mainly at Evan, and countless glasses and shots of alcohol, the table was for the most part tipsy. Most of the guys were flushed from the alcohol intake, and some were drunkenly giggling themselves silly. For Evan, the world swirled around him, and everything seemed distorted and funny to him. His head felt heavy, yet his body felt incredibly light, as though he was being lifted by strings in the air.
"I think I'm done," he heard Jonathan slur slightly. "I want to catch a nap or something."
"Aw," Lui whined. "Don't leave us. We're about to go bar-hopping. It's tradition."
"You mean it's tradition to bring the less drunk people along so you guys can get totally wasted." Luke corrected. "It's okay, Jonathan. I'll bring you back."
"I'll be fine, Luke." Jonathan tried to reassure. "I can take care of myself. These freaks need you more than I do."
Evan tried to suppress a loud hiccough, and countless pairs of eyes turned towards him. "Oops," he giggled, swaying in his seat.
"Okay, fine." Luke frowned. "Do us all a favor and take Evan back to his hotel, too. He's had one too many shots and I don't think me and Brock can handle that many drunkards. And don't get jumped."
"I don't know where…" Jonathan began.
"It's just a street down, just opposite that building with the annoying green lights. Once you see that the hotel's just opposite."
Evan felt an arm wrap around his, pulling his body up and supporting it. After a few murmured goodbyes from Jonathan to the rest, the two men stumbled out into the cold night, snow beneath their feet. Evan giggled as the cold air brushed against his face, tickling him.
"Hey," He laughed softly. "Didn't this happen sometime before? Me being stupid drunk and you helping me."
"Yeah," Jonathan sighed. "Except… I'm a little lost. I don't even know which direction to go in."
Evan looked at him, almost seeing patterns swirl across Jonathan's face. He chuckled softly and swiveled about, looking for signs of familiarity whilst he held on to Jonathan's shivering body.
"Are you cold?" Evan asked, slurring over his words. "You're shivering."
He took a closer, clearer look at the man. There was an oddly demented look in his eyes, and his complexion was paler than usual. Jonathan was not shivering because of the cold. He was panicking, shaking out of fear.
"Relax, man. I'm here." Evan coaxed softly. "I know where to go, so don't worry. I've been here so many times."
"Says the drunk person." Jonathan retorted, his lips quivering.
"Trust me," Evan breathed, drawing closer to Jonathan and holding onto his arm as he lost his balance once more. He pointed ahead of them and instructed, "Just go down this way and across the street, then turn left. The hotel's hidden behind that building over there."
"Are you sure you're drunk?" Jonathan asked, incredulous. "You're pretty clear-headed for once."
Evan threw his head back in a laugh. "This is just memory for me, my young padawan."
"Fuck you."
"Just move before we either freeze to death or I throw up on you."
A while later, the duo staggered into the warmth of a hotel lobby and made their way towards an elevator. Upon Evan's instruction, Jonathan located Evan's keycard and swiped it, before pressing a few buttons and sending the pair upwards.
Impulsively, perhaps, Evan's hands began to wander, making its way down Jonathan's arm. He grasped Jonathan's hands tightly, feeling the cold, shaking fingers against his palm.
"Your hands are cold and clammy." Evan pointed out. "It's okay now, isn't it? We're safe and warm."
A strange compulsion arose as he peered into the wide blue eyes of the man before him. He wanted to grab him and take him by the lips, to kiss the beautiful little pink mound on his face and feel the man's beauty for himself. He stupidly considered allowing the impulse to take over for a moment as he closed in on Jonathan.
"Evan," Jonathan gasped, edging backwards. "I'm fine, it's just the cold –"
"You were shaking, too." He moved in further. He could feel Jonathan's heavy breath against his skin, and he could smell the alcohol from his breath. How sweet. I just wish I could taste it.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened, revealing an empty, dimly- lit hallway. Reluctantly, Evan pulled away from Jonathan and made his way out of the elevator, with a dazed Jonathan trailing behind. A few steps down the hallway and another swipe of the keycard led them into Evan's room, with the lights flickering on as another keycard was shoved into the power switch after numerous drunken attempts.
Something bright blue hanging out from his luggage bag caught his eye, and a cloudy memory surfaced in his head.
"Oh, right, uh" Evan murmured, stumbling over to grab the sky blue shirt from his bag. "I never returned it to you after that time. I've washed it and it's clean and all. Sorry for keeping it for so long."
He handed the fabric over to Jonathan, who took it graciously from him. "Thanks. I actually forgot all about it."
"Jonathan?" Evan called out softly as he lay on his head, feeling the spinning feeling suspend itself.
"Hm?"
"Do you… do you hate me…? After all that's happened…?" Evan slowly began. "I mean – you've been acting… kind of weird, like you don't want to be around me."
"Why would I hate you?"
"Because I hurt you. And I'm so sorry I did. I really didn't mean to…"
"No, no – Evan, listen." Jonathan interrupted. "Don't be sorry. I should be sorry. I ruined everything between you and Sarah. I should be the one wondering if you hated me."
Evan frowned, closing his eyes. "I don't. I've been worrying all this time if you hated me. But I don't hate you, Jonathan. Nobody can. You've been such a great friend… and more."
The air in the room stilled as a silence grew. Evan could feel the words dancing on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to say it. He wanted Jonathan to know how he felt for him.
"Jonathan, I –"
"Evan," Jonathan interrupted once more, this time with a desperate sharpness in his voice. "You're drunk, Evan. Don't say a thing more. Just sleep it off. I'll see you tomorrow."
And with a click of the door, he was out. Evan sighed, the darkness filling his head. Another opportunity lost.
Jonathan stood outside the door of Evan's room, slumped against the wall. Holding the sky blue shirt to his chest, he tried to breathe – inhale, exhale. His heart was pounding against his chest, hammering away at his confidence. He had been close, so close to spilling his feelings for Evan. The words were right there – I can't hate you, Evan. I can't. I love you.
But a million invisible steel cables held him back, restraining him. Each cable a conviction, a safety net for their friendship. He had resolved so long ago to never let Evan know, to be a good friend to Evan. He had tried so hard to keep it that way.
Except his heart was disagreeing. His heart was palpitating, each beat thrumming furiously against his chest for the man inside the room.
I'm so sorry if this chapter was really dry, and if things are going so slowly! I'm expecting chapter 15 to go in a similar direction so please don't kill me! Either way, I'm really glad that I've managed to come this far with this story that I decided to start writing on a whim. I'm also very thankful for everyone that has stuck around and read this story and supported this story. The story has a little bit more to go, so I do hope you guys can hang around for a bit longer. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and stay tuned for the next!
-delmin