Rose-Coloured Boy

by ratbtch

Summary:

Alex blinked, jaw tight, and let out a breathless, humorless laugh.

“You really wanted to get that one off your chest, huh?”

Sebastian said nothing. His expression faltered for the first time—something in it caught between regret and defensiveness, like he hadn’t meant to show his hand quite so much.

Then, quietly, he said, “Maybe if you stopped pretending to be someone you’re not, people would actually stick around.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. They both knew exactly what he meant. And Alex—no matter how hard he tried, no matter how deep he buried it—couldn’t pretend otherwise.

A shaky breath escaped him. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles went white.

“Go fuck yourself.”

══════════════════

Or: Alex is caught up in the past, and Sebastian is sick of it!

Chapter 1

❄️ Winter 27 - Year 0❄️

Morning doves chirped a a cheerfully rhythmic tune, a song so gentle and persistent it could make even the sleepiest rise. The sun, that barely peeked beyond the horizon, adorned the valley in a soft, golden, glow. The sky, painted in blues, oranges, and the faintest hint of yellow, stretched cloudless overhead. It was the kind of morning that felt more like a painting than real life.

The valley was calm, hushed. Most folks were still tucked snugly in their beds.

Well—except for Alex. 

Like clockwork, he would circle the valley like a guard on patrol. His morning jog was as rehearsed and rigid as a routine warm-up before a big game—comforting in its repetition. Clinging to his chest was his old varsity sweater, stretched slightly at the shoulders now, but still worn proudly. Underneath it, a simple shirt and matching shorts—green, of course. Alex was nothing if not coordinated.

His steps were steady, softly stomping on the dirt paths. His eyes stayed focused ahead, not lingering on the newly blooming flowers or the fresh green poking up from the soil. Spring reared it’s head around the corner, and yet, he felt as if time hadn’t shifted in years. 

With a coffee in one hand, and phone in the other, he quickly switched to the next song. He noticed far too quickly how music affected his mood, and this song—well it was far from upbeat. The new song kicked in with a familiar, punchy beat, and just like that, the pep in his step returned. His chest loosened. Everything got easier. If only life was as easy as running: one foot in front of the other, keep your head down, and push through. 

He was sure to be careful with this extra pep—lest he drop Haley’s needed coffee. 

See, this jog did have surprises and turns of it’s own, even if it was technically the same route. Solemn does Haley rise before 7am, let alone wake up in time to see the sunrise. But after months of putting it off, she finally came to terms with it—

“To be a great and recognized photographer, I need at least one cheesy photo of the sunrise. Every famous photographer has one.” She had texted Alex the night before. This was quickly followed by plans— demands —of Alex bringing her coffee so she wouldn’t fall asleep halfway there. 

He was happy to do so. 

Haley was the only one in this town who really got him. She was sweet and patient, but was never shy of telling the truth, no matter how painful it may be. In return, he’d memorized how she took her coffee, how to spot a fake laugh, and when to distract her from her own spiraling thoughts.  A trusted and strategic ally made in highschool quickly became his best friend, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

His mind drifted away into the song as he rounded the corner, crossing the rickety wooden bridge. It wasn’t long before he passed Marnie’s ranch, then Leah’s shack, then made his way past Sam’s house. His steps faltered a little there, a brief stutter in his pep. For a moment, he was a teenager again—kicking a soccer ball in the front yard with Sam and—

“Hey, Space Cadet!” a familiar voice called out. “Can you come back to Earth and hand me my coffee before I freeze to death?”

Alex blinked and looked up.

Haley stood on her front lawn, arms folded tight against her chest, legs wobbling slightly from the cold. She was dressed in a cropped sweater and a mini-skirt, clearly unprepared for the early morning chill.

“Jeez,” she groaned with exaggerated drama, snatching the coffee from his hand. “What took you so long? I’m literally turning into a popsicle.”

“Maybe if you dressed for the weather, you wouldn’t be half-frozen.” Alex grinned. “Come on, get moving! A little jog always gets the blood flowing.” He bounced on his heels, the picture of exaggerated energy.

“Like hell I’m running,” Haley shot back, taking a long sip from her cup. “I came here to get one artsy sunrise photo and then run—” Alex grinned, “walk— briskly —back home.” She corrected herself.

“Aww man, almost got you.” Alex clutched his chest like he was wounded.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Haley said with a smirk, eyes bright with amusement. “Stick to what you know—like running like there’s a college scout hiding in the bushes.”

“There might be,” Alex replied, eyes wide with mock seriousness. “You never know. I’ve gotta stay ready.”

“They’re recruiters, Alex. Not vampires.”

“Better safe than sorry,” he quipped.

As much as Alex enjoyed his routine, there was something comforting about having Haley with him. She made mornings—mornings that were otherwise identical, clockwork and quiet—feel a little more special. Like the sunrise wasn’t just a reminder of another day stuck in place, but something worth getting up for.

After high school, things had shifted. Alex had become a lot more… closed off than he used to be. The kind of reclusive that people didn’t expect from a golden boy. But becoming a social pariah and getting rejection letters from every dream school on his list will do that to a person. Not that he talked about it much. Or at all.

He still wasn’t sure when he had created the version of himself people knew: the sweet, slightly dopey jock. A bit clueless, a bit cocky, but harmless. Women wanted him, nerds feared him. That persona clung to him like sweat on a summer jog, and it was so deeply ingrained that sometimes he couldn’t tell where it ended and he began. Even now, at the ripe age of 23, he held onto a past self he longed to forget. 

The daily jogs, the relentless workouts, the “I’m-better-than-you-but-I-secretly-hate-myself” aura, it was all leftover armor from high school. He wore it like an old letterman jacket that never quite fit right anymore, but still offered a strange sense of protection.

Not everything from back then was bad. He had friends, for a time. But one by one they’d left, off to universities and internships and new cities where dreams had a fighting chance. He’d stayed. First out of shame, then out of necessity. Because even if some miracle acceptance had come through, he wouldn’t have been able to leave. Not with Grandma Evelyn’s memory slipping further each month, and Grandpa George needing help with nearly everything outside the house. They never asked him to stay. They would’ve told him to go if he had the chance. But he couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

So now, while the rest of the world moved forward, Alex stayed behind—stuck in the same valley, on the same paths, living a life that didn’t feel like it had really started. But at least he had Haley. And a roof. And meals, most days. And someone to talk to who didn’t just see the old Alex, but all the pieces underneath.

Can’t get much better than that, can it? 

“You’re quiet today,” Haley said pointedly, narrowing her eyes. “It’s weird.”

“Oh?” Alex raised a brow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Miss hearing my beautiful voice already?” 

“Oh, Shut up,” Haley rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that crap. What’s going on in that brain of yours? Spill.” 

And just like that—-in typical Haley fashion—she broke down his carefully crafted walls without even blinking. Her directness didn’t always come gently, but it came from the heart. It always did. Alex’s smile faltered, his gaze drifting forward as the beach came into view. The waves were calm, the sky already softening with morning light. 

“Nothing…” Alex muttered, the lie thin in his voice.

“Ugh, I hate it when you’re like this Alex.” Haley groaned, slurping at her coffee like it personally offended her.Then, she grinned, wicked and evil like the sorceress she was. “You know what I’m thinking about? How warm I’d be in the fire that you—-”

“Hey!” Alex quickly snapped, glaring at her. “We promised never to speak of it, low bar Hales.”

“I know, I know.” She covered a laugh with the back of her hand.  “But I needed to say something to make you show some real, human, emotion.You were standing there smiling like a game show host mannequin. Total uncanny valley vibes.”

Alex huffed and turned his face away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.” Haley exhaled, a little softer this time. “So, are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or are you just gonna keep sulking until I drag it out of you?”

She had a point. When Haley wanted the truth, she knew exactly how to pry it loose. 

“I don’t know,” Alex started, rubbing the back of the neck. “Really, nothing is wrong. It’s just… Spring is coming around and I still feel… stuck, I guess.” 

Alex was never one to find the right words to use in any situation. 

That was part of the problem, words. He’d always tripped over them, even as a kid. Letters would flip or blur on the page, his handwriting would melt into something unreadable, and no matter how hard he tried, the thoughts in his head never came out right. He’d asked for help a few times, back in school, but most teachers waved it off. To them, he was just another jock trying to dodge work. No one looked past the smile or the muscles long enough to see he was struggling to read the damn textbook. They called him dumb.

And after a while, he started believing it. 

“I get how you feel,” Haley said softly, offering him a small smile as she came to a stop. “This is a good spot.”

Without another word, she started unpacking her camera gear—tripod, lenses, her beloved DSLR. She handled each piece with care and confidence. She was a lot more serious about this than she ever was back in high school, and Alex respected the hell out of that.

He was envious, honestly.

If only he could be that driven.

“I’m stuck too, technically,” she said as she set up the tripod, the legs sinking slightly into the sand. Alex watched, keeping his hands to himself—he knew better than to offer help unless invited. Haley got snappy when she was in the zone.

“I’m stuck in this backwater, hillbilly town, living with my weird sister because I can’t land a real job.” She let out a long sigh. “But I know it’ll get better. Because I’m doing something I actually care about—and I’m not half bad at it!”

She adjusted the tripod and gave it a light tap when it was steady enough, nodding with quiet satisfaction.

“You just need to find something you love,” she added, glancing over at him. “Maybe then you won’t feel so stuck all the time.”

The sun was rising behind her, casting a soft glow on her face. Her eyes shimmered with something—hope, maybe. Belief. It looked good on her.

“Until then, you’ve got that new job, don’t you?” she continued. “Hauling produce from the farms to the city, or whatever? That could be a good place to start. Help you get your life on track.”

It was kind of her to say. And optimistic. But she didn’t know the full story. She didn’t know about the stack of hospital bills waiting at home. Or the rent, the utilities, the groceries that barely stretched the week. She didn’t know what it was like trying to keep a roof over two sick grandparents while pretending like your life isn’t quietly caving in.

This job wouldn’t solve anything. It would barely help him scrape by.

Still—he didn’t want to put that weight on her shoulders. She had enough of her own.

So he forced a smile. Small. Convincing enough. “You’re right. Thanks, Hales.”

She paused, her mouth twitching with something unreadable. A small frown tugged at her lips—but she let it slide.

Then she turned to her camera with a grin. “Now stop moping and be a silhouette in my shot. I need you to dramatically—and sexily—run across the beach. Think you can handle that?”

“Oh, now we’re talking.” Alex’s grin turned playful. “I’m practically an expert.”

Being a model was a lot harder than it looked. Haley had to reshoot the same shot at least a dozen times, adjusting for angle, light, and how much of Alex’s outline stood out against the rising sun. She muttered to herself about lens distortion and framing, sometimes barking orders at Alex like a director on a movie set. He didn’t mind. Honestly, he was happy to help, especially when she got all fired up like this. Passion suited her.

The shoot didn’t take too long. After all, you can only chase the perfect sunrise for so long before it’s just…daylight. Soon, the sun had fully risen, bathing the beach in gold. The ocean shimmered beneath it, clear and crisp.

“God, I can’t wait until summer,” Alex mumbled, staring at the waves. “Feels like instant hypothermia right now.”

Haley, with the help of Alex, quickly packed up her things with a yawn. 

“Thank you for your help today, Alex,” she said with a small smile, brushing her hair behind her ear.

Alex gave a reaffirming nod, “Of course. Anything for you.” 

“You’re such a sap,” she teased, waving him off. “Save that energy for when you actually get a partner.”

They fell into step, walking side by side, the crunch of sand beneath their shoes the only sound for a moment. 

“Yeah, like that’ll ever happen.” Alex grumbled, glancing away. 

“Not with that attitude, it won’t,” Haley nudged him with her elbow.

“I’m serious,” Alex continued.“It’s not like there are tons of eligible girls in this town just lining up to date me. Half of them either pity me or hate me.”

“Girls…” Haley echoed under her breath, almost too quiet to catch. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something more—but thought better of it. After a pause, she gave a light laugh instead.

“Don’t think like that,” she said gently. “Any girl—or guy —”

Alex stiffened just slightly.

“—would be lucky to have you.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Hechewed on the inside of his cheek, knowing full well what she was hinting at.  He knew what she was trying to say. He knew it was coming from a good place. But still.

So, he smiled. Too big, too fake. “So will you date me, then?”

“Fat chance.” Haley rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Let’s just say you aren’t my type.” 

“Ouch, harsh Hales.” Alex clutched his chest in mock offense. 

“You’ll be fine.” 

As the two made way towards Haley’s, a peaceful silence fell between them. Truth be told, Alex was silently brooding, his brain practically burning with the gears turning. When did life get so complicated? Back in high school… Even then, it was hard. But not to this degree.

He dropped Haley back at home, but not without one last reminder to take it easy. He wanted to scoff at the comment, roll his eyes, maybe let out a dramatic sigh—but he was far too nice for that. He knew she meant well. She always meant well. But she had no idea how hard he really had it. No one in this town did.

Once her front door clicked shut, he let his hands drag down his face, smearing away the tight skin left behind from all those faux smiles. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, the type that relieved all tension in his chest. Rolling his shoulders back, and felt the tension run down his spine like an unspooled thread.

Helping Haley had just been a detour. He still had a jog to finish. And if there was one thing Alex could count on, it was his routine. His mental state might’ve been circling the drain, but you’d never guess it by looking at him. No dark circles under his eyes, no pale complexion, no cracks in the armor. Even in the tail-end of winter, his skin held a sun-warmed glow, like he’d spent weeks on the beach instead of holed up in a dim house. He clung to this armour—it was the only part of himself he could control. 

He adjusted his attire and continued on with his route, absent-mindedly following the internal trail he mapped out for himself. He jogged this route like clockwork, sheer muscle memory as he focused on his steady breathing and even steps. He could do this blindfolded if he wanted.

As he passed the community center, a small frown ghosted across his face. It used to harbour all the joys and hopes of Pelican Town, now it was broken, rotted and forgotten about—he felt his chest twist. That feeling? He’d learned to ignore it. 

It wasn’t until he smelt a tinge of oil, and heard the sound of machinery clinking, that he started to slow down

Robin must be hard at work, he thought.

But as he rounded the bend and the carpenter’s garage came into view, that thought vanished. The garage door was cracked open, a dim light buzzing above it. It was still early—too early for anyone to be up. His curiosity got the better of him.

He crept closer, quiet as he could, peering just around the corner.

That’s when he saw him.

Sebastian.

Squatting beside his motorcycle, oil smeared across one cheek, dark tank top clinging to his frame, jeans cuffed at the ankle. His purple hair was pushed back messily, and he was focused, fiddling with the engine, totally unaware—or so Alex thought.

Alex’s chest ached, and his pulse ran quick. If there was anyone in this town who hated him the most, it would be Sebastian. And truth be told, the feeling was mutual. The days of eating packed lunches together or playing video games in Sam’s room felt like another lifetime—if they’d even been real in the first place. These days, when they crossed paths, it wasn’t words that filled the air. It was tension. Unease. Regret.

Alex didn’t hesitate. He turned on his heel, ready to disappear back down the hill—

"Still wearing that varsity sweater, huh?"

Alex froze. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Sebastian’s voice carried easily, low and dry like smoke.

"Can’t let go of the glory days, can we?"

Alex exhaled through his nose and turned, slowly. He turned, eyes landing on Sebastian, who was leaning against his bike, grease-streaked and smug. He wore a sly, condescending smirk all too well.

“And you’re still stuck in this town,” Alex shot back, tone light but venomous, “fixing up that hunk of junk and playing emo vampire in your mom’s basement. Guess we all have our coping mechanisms,” Alex snapped back, a mocking grin pulling at his lips. 

Sebastian didn’t flinch. He only gave a slow shrug, unfazed. “Better than peaking at seventeen.”

Then, like dropping a lit match, he added, “And better than mooching off your sick, elderly grandparents.”

Alex’s jaw clenched hard enough to ache. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he told himself. He’s not worth it. He didn’t want to rise to it—but the words were already boiling over. 

“You talk big for someone who wouldn’t shut up about leaving this ‘shitty town’ the second you turned eighteen,” Alex snapped, the grin dropping from his face. “And yet—look at you. Still here. Still miserable. Still pathetic.”

Sebastian let out a dry, humorless laugh and pushed off the bike, wiping his hands on a rag before tossing it aside. “You want to lecture me about being pathetic?” he said, taking a slow step forward.  “ Look at yourself Alex!” Sebastian gestured toward Alex dramatically. “You’re the walking definition of pathetic. Clinging to your glory days in high school like they actually meant something. Pretending you’re all that when you know you’re the biggest sack of shit this town ever had the displeasure of knowing. At least I have friends,” Sebastian continued, a bit lower. 

He stopped short of Alex, his eyes narrowing, his voice dropping just enough to hurt. “How do you expect anyone to like you if you don’t even like yourself?”

The words dropped like bricks between them. 

Alex’s eyes widened, his chest tight and hot with shame, rage, and something unspoken twisting deep in his gut. He was stunned—but so was Sebastian. Even he looked like he hadn’t expected it to come out that hard, that sharp. His mouth hung open slightly, as if he might take it back. But the damage was already done.

A beat passed. Just the soft buzz of the garage light. The far-off sound of ocean wind through trees.

Alex blinked, jaw tight, and let out a breathless, humorless laugh.

“You really wanted to get that one off your chest, huh?”

Sebastian said nothing. His expression faltered for the first time—something in it caught between regret and defensiveness, like he hadn’t meant to show his hand quite so much.

Then, quietly, he said, “Maybe if you stopped pretending to be someone you’re not, people would actually stick around.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. They both knew exactly what he meant. And Alex—no matter how hard he tried, no matter how deep he buried it—couldn’t pretend otherwise.

A shaky breath escaped him. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles went white.

“Go fuck yourself.”

The words were quiet, but sharp. Final.

He turned without another look, storming off into the mountains, each step faster than the last—like if he ran hard enough, he could outrun the truth clawing at his heels.

Chapter 2

Notes:

in typical rat fashion, I always upload the first two chapters tgther bc im anxious,,, enjoy!

🌸 Spring 1 - Year 1🌸  

A loud groan escaped Alex’s throat, muffled by his pillow, in response to a blaring alarm—the third one that morning.

Sure, he liked keeping a routine. Running early in the morning helped keep him grounded. But not this early. The birds weren’t even up yet. The moon still hung lazily above the horizon. 

Alex was quick to shut his alarm off and quickly roll over in bed, holding the warm blanket close to his face, snuggled in nice and cozy. His eyes were heavy, and his thoughts began to drift—

Bzzzt, bzzzzt. 

He shot up like a bullet. The fourth alarm. The fail-safe Evelyn had insisted on, knowing full well the first three wouldn’t cut it.

“Shit,” he muttered, grabbing his phone to check the time. He was already late.

He scrambled out of bed, feet thudding heavy against the floor as he darted around his room, tugging on whatever clothes were clean-ish and within reach. No time to brush his teeth or fix his hair. He just raked his fingers through it and hoped for the best. The floor creaked under his hurried steps, but he wasn’t worried about waking anyone—Evelyn and George slept like rocks these days.

First day on the job and he was already running late, not a good look. 

At least he wouldn’t have to make the journey on foot. Over the winter, Robin helped him restore his dad’s rusted old pickup truck. She’d praised his work ethic and dedication to the job—though he begged her not to mention it to anyone else. It was easier to let people think he was just another washed-up jock than admit why he really needed the money.

Hospital bills weren’t cheap. And rent sure as hell wasn’t getting any cheaper either.

Only a handful of people knew the full story: Robin, Dr. Harvey, and, unfortunately, Lewis. His mom used to say it was important to have trustworthy adults in your corner. Robin and Harvey had definitely proven her right. They offered help without judgment, even stepped in to check on Evelyn when Alex couldn’t. Lewis, on the other hand…

Well, Lewis was a different story. The man had always looked at Alex like he was some thorn in his side. Alex never knew why 

He hopped into the beat down truck, and with a slam of the rusted door, he was on his way. In his pocket, on the back of an old receipt he had written out all the stops he needed to go to on. Pierre’s Shop, Fairhaven Farm, Bluemoon Vineyard and Marnie’s were written top, highlighted with a neon yellow marker. Then, under them was various farms in nearby townships that also needed help with transportation. 

The job was simple on paper: collect goods from various shipment crates, drive them to Zuzu City, then return with the money. Ninety percent went back to the original sellers. Seven percent went to Lewis—“for the good of the town,” or whatever bullshit excuse he gave. And the final three percent? That was Alex’s cut.

Which, all things considered, was an absolute joke. But what could he do? Somehow, this was the highest paying job in the market, and Lewis oh so generously offered it to him.

Money was money. And he’d sacrifice damn near anything to keep Evelyn breathing.

He made his first stop at Pierre’s. The crate was mostly scraps—leftover winter roots, a few foraged items, even a fully cooked dish or two. Weird. He expected more from someone who charged ten gold just to breathe in his store. Whatever. He hoisted the crate into the back of the truck. It was heavier than it looked, and the angle was awkward enough to make his shoulder ache on the lift.

Next up: Bluemoon Vineyard. The drive there was hell. Pelican Town roads weren’t made for pickup trucks. He bounced along the dirt, swearing every time he hit a bump too hard and something rattled in the back. When he pulled up, he was greeted by a neat crate of aged wine, bottles cushioned carefully between old linens. Grapes, hops, and a few early blooms rounded it out. Smaller haul than expected, but valuable. He took extra care loading it into the bed—nothing worse than having to explain shattered glass to Sophia.

With a sigh and a huff, he put the goods in the pickup truck and made way to the final location of the town, Fairhaven Farm. 

Andy’s crate was full—overflowing, even. Winter roots, melons, goat and cow cheese, and a bunch of eggs! He hit the jackpot! Finally a good haul. Andy must’ve had a good start to the season. Alex grunted as he hefted the box into the truck, sweat already collection under his shirt despite the morning chill. 

Marine’s was the last town stop. She met him out front, waving cheerfully as she helped carry out her crate—eggs, jaw of preserves, and wool stuffed sacks. 

“You’re going good work, hon,” she said with a pat on his back. “Your father would be proud.”

Alex bit his tongue, she meant well. “Thanks.” 

With the truck full, he climbed back in and set off down the winding road past the southern woods. As the buildings thinned out, he passed the old, run-down farmhouse just outside town—the one that’d been empty for years. Overgrown, shutters askew, paint peeling. Alex slowed just a little, eyes drifting to it as he passed. 

That’s when he remembered what Haley had said last week. 

“I heard someone’s moving in,” she told him, twirling her hair around her finger. “Some city kid’s inheriting the place or something. Crazy, right?” 

At the time, he didn’t think much of it. Just another person who’s image of him will quickly be skewed by this town. But now, seeing the place on the verge of coming back to life, something stirred in his chest. Maybe it was hope. Most likely, greed. 

If the new farmer was serious, that meant more shipments. More money. 

And Yoba knew he could use every extra gold he could get. 

The truck rumbled along the winding road out of Pelican town, engine coughing every now and then like it needed a break. Alex reached for the dial on the dashboard and flicked on the radio, skipping past static and farm reports until something vaguely musical came through–a tinny old rock song, something his mom used to hum along to when she cooked. 

It helped…a little. 

The road stretched on, quiet, grey, empty. Trees blurred past his windows as he leaned one arm out. He turned the volume up, trying to drown out the thoughts clawing their way up from the corners of his brain. They always came when he was alone like this. And the longer the silence stretched, the louder they got. 

You’re pathetic. Mooching off your grandparents. Wearing a letterman jacket like it still means something. 

He exhaled sharply through his nose and gripped the wheel tighter. 

“Better than peaking at seventeen.”

Sebastian’s voice echoed in his head like smoke, half-burned at the back of his brain. The words weren’t even the worst part. It was the look on his face when he said them—like he wasn’t trying to be cruel.  Just stating a cold, obvious, fact. 

Alex shook his head and tapped the steering wheel, trying to lose himself in the beat of the music. 

He thought back to Marnie’s off-hand comment. “Your father would be proud.” 

He hadn’t known what to say at the time… still didn’t. He just smiled and nodded like it didn’t him him like a gut punch. 

His father had, and never would be, proud of him. Not when he won trophies. Not when he got an A on his spelling test. Not even when Alex was the star gridball player. Nothing was ever enough. His dad’s pride came with conditions—obedience, silence, perfection—and Alex had failed all three. Repeatedly. 

Nobody really knew. 

The music stuttered into a commercial break, some chipper voice trying to sell vitamins, and alex leaned over to shut it off completely. The silence that followed was sharp, but at least it was real. 

It took about an hour and a half to reach the outskirts of Zuzu City. By the time he hit the main roads, traffic had flooded the streets. Horns blared in every direction. People in suits crossed intersections with coffee cups and phones glued to their hands. Cyclists weaved between buses. Every light turned red just as he approached it. 

The city was too loud, too fast. His chest tightened just a bit. 

He’d forgotten how much this placed moved—how fast everyone walked, how nothing stopped for anyone. It wasn’t like Pelican Town, where someone would wait five minutes just to let a chicken cross the road. 

Why would Sebastian ever want to move out here? 

Why am I even thinking of Sebastian!? 

Still, he wasn’t totally lost. The delivery drop-off point was near his old high school, which gave him enough bearings to navigate through the mess. He turned down a narrow side street, wincing as his tired clipped a curb, and slowed near a familiar concrete building. 

Zuzu South High. 

It looked the same… Bigger, maybe. He could still picture the field, freshly mowed for gridball games. The parking lot where he and Haley used to loiter after school. The gym that reeked of sweat and cheap cologne. For a second, the memory warmed him. 

Then came the aftertaste. 

The glares on the final days of senior year, the rejected scholarships, the unbeatable reputation. The things they said back then? They never truly stopped…  did they? 

And they were right. Maybe Sebastian was right too.

Alex swallowed thickly and pulled into the warehouse lot. It was mostly empty—just a few other trucks and a bored teen with a clipboard. 

“Mornin’” The kid said as Alex hopped down from the truck. “Name?”

“Alex.”

The kid looked him up and down, like he recognized Alex but couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Back it into dock five and unload. Sign the clipboard and we’ll process it. Wait about 15 minutes, and you’ll get your payment.” 

Alex nodded and got to work. He heaved creates out one by one, muscles burning with each lift. He could feel the soreness settling in already, especially in his shoulders. Between the bouncing roads, awkward angles, and sheer weight of it all, his muscles were surely getting a work out they’d regret. 

After signing off the delivery, and getting the payment—83,000 gold. He never held this much money in his life, and this was a slow day. He couldn’t help but smile, being cluelessly naive of how cruel the job was. 

He left the city quickly. The drive home was quieter, slower. No radio this time, just the soft hum of the engine and the occasional bird chipping. Alex didn’t let himself think too hard. 

Soon, he was back in Pelican Town, welcomed by the warm air. Nothing like Zuzu city. He had grown to love the comfort, love the community… if only they felt the same. 

He first made way to all the farms, dropping off their earnings in their mailboxes. Then, after parking, he made his way to the Mayors. 

The walk up to Lewis’s house was short, but it always felt like a hike. Alex kept his shoulders square and his jaw tight, the pouch of gold weighting heavier in his coat pocket than it had any right to. The morning chill clung to his skin, sweat still beaded at the base of his neck. 

He gave the front door a stiff knock. No answer. He knocked again, more firmly. 

Eventually, the door creaked open. 

Lewis stood there in his usual suspenders, holding a cup of lukewarm coffee and wearing an unreadable expression. “You’re late.” 

Alex nodded quickly. “Sorry, sir. Dropped the farmer earnings off first like you asked.”

“Ah, I see,” Lewis cracked a small smile, stepping aside for Alex to enter. “Come in, son.” 

Alex stepped inside, careful to wipe his boots on the mat. Lewis’s office smelled like paper and cedar polish, a little too clean, a little too staged. The mayor walked ahead of him, casual but brisk, like Alex was already behind. 

“I trust the deliveries went smoothly?” Lewis asked as he took his seat. 

“Yes, sir.” Alex pulled the gold pouch from his coat and set it gently on the table. “Eight thousand even, after the farmer shares were returned.” 

Lewis raised his brows slightly. “Only eight? Hm.”

Alex tensed. “It was mostly leftovers from the winter stock. Nothing much came in today.”

Lewis smiled—something small and tight. “Of course, of course. You can only work with what you’re given,” He paused. “But it is unfortunate. You know, when I offered you this position, I thought it might be a good way for you to grow. Learn some responsibility. Earn your keep .” 

Alex didn’t answer right away. 

“I truly didn’t think we’d be starting out this low,” Lewis continued, still smiling. “But I suppose when expectations are already rock bottom, there’s nowhere to go but up.” 

Alex stiffened, his eyes plastered on the floor. “Yes sir. I’ll do better next time.” 

“Now, I’m not blaming you,” Lewis said kindly. “I know you’re doing your best. It’s just…” another painful pause, “when someone gives you a job like this—a real chance—you want to make sure they don’t regret it, right?” 

Alex flinched like he’d been slapped in the face. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good lad.” Lewis tied up the gold pouch again with a sigh. “Let’s just hope we get better yields as the season progresses. The town depends on that revenue. We all do. And your grandparents… well, I’m sure they’d hate to see this opportunity wasted.” 

He stood and walked to a small drawer near the filling cabinet, withdrawing a much smaller coin pouch and offering it with a too-friendly smile. “Your cut.” 

Alex took it, the weight almost featherlight in his hand. His stomach twisted. It wasn’t right. It felt off. It felt… short. Still, he didn’t speak. His mouth opened, then closed again, jaw tight. 

Lewis raised a brow. “Something wrong?” 

Alex quickly shook his head. “No. Just tired.” 

“Well,” Lewis said, walking back to his chair, “make sure that doesn’t affect your performance. This town may not expect much from you, but that doesn’t mean I want you dragging your feet. This is important work, you know?”

Alex’s hands clenched at his sides. “I’m grateful for the opportunity, sir.” 

“Of course you are,” Lewis said, folding his hands over his lap. “You’re a hard worker, Alex. I’ve always said so. Just make sure you prove me right.”

Alex nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good boy.” 

The words made his teeth grit, but he smiled anyways. He muttered something that could have been a thank you, and turned to leave. 

“Tell Evelyn I said hello,” Lewis called after him. “And remind her how lucky she is to have such a dutiful grandson.” 

Alex didn’t reply. 

He shut the door behind him with more force than necessary, the pouch still clenched in his hands. His fingers dug into the soft leather. 

He didn’t need to open it. He already knew it was short. And he’d still say thank you again next time. 

The smell hit him before he even opened the door.

Warm, sweet, unmistakable.

Pancakes.

Alex stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and shoving off his boots, already shrugging off the cold stink of Lewis’s office. The early morning tension in his shoulders began to loosen just a bit.

He followed the scent into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Granny,” he said, voice half-groan, half-laugh. “You really shouldn’t be standing over a hot stove all by yourself.”

Evelyn stood at the stove, apron tied over her sweater, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. “Oh, hush now,” she said, not even looking back at him. “I may be old, but you're never too old to make breakfast for your hardworking grandson. Besides, it’s not like George was gonna do it.”

From the living room, George’s voice piped up over the TV. “Damn right I wasn’t!”

Alex chuckled and stepped forward, gently taking the spatula from her hand. “Still. Let me help. I don’t like you standing for too long.”

Evelyn waved him off with a wrinkled hand. “You’re sweet, but I’ve been doing this since before you were a twinkle in your mother’s eye. Sit down, dear. It’s your first day on the job—you’ve earned a hot meal.”

He hesitated, but her voice left no room for argument. He took a seat at the small table in the corner of the kitchen as she plated up golden pancakes and slid them onto the table beside him.

George rolled in from the living room, TV remote still in hand. “Smells good in here.”

“Of course it does,” Evelyn said, sitting down with them. “I made it.”

George then looked at Alex, “Morning, Kid. How’d the first day go?” 

Alex hesitated, just for a second. Then he smiled. “Great. Barely broke a sweat!” 

George snorted. “Good on ya, son! Show ‘em what we’re made of.” 

Evelyn slide a plate in front of Alex, stacked with perfectly golden pancakes, and poured him a cup of coffee. “Don’t let him fool you, George. He probably worked himself to the bone.”

“Pffft,” Alex said through a mouthful of  syrupy pancake. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

George grinned, then took a bite himself. “Was Lewis being an ass like always?”

Alex shrugged, shoving more pancake into his mouth like it might block the truth from getting out. “Yeah. But it’s okay. We got enough to at least pay for groceries and hospital bills this week, so… please don’t worry.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, just full. Evelyn came around the table and sat beside him, her warm, spotted hand resting gently on  his arm. 

“We’re not worried about ourselves, sweetie,” she said softly. “We’re worried about you.”

Alex looked down at his plate, then up at both of them. His jaw tensed for just a second before he smiled again, smaller this time. 

“You don’t have to be,” he said. “I’ve got this. I promise.”

Evelyn squeezed him arm. George gave him a look that wasn’t quite a smile but came close. 

Outside, the world kept turning. But here, in this little kitchen with the scent of pancakes and the soft buzz of morning TV, Alex let himself breathe. 

After breakfast, Alex washed the dishes, wiped the counters and gave the floor a quick sweep. Just enough to keep Evelyn from insisting on doing it herself. He checked on George one more time, then whistled for Dusty and clipped on his leash. 

“C’mon boy. Let’s go for a walk.”

Alex was never still. 

Pelican Town was slow to wake up as he strolled through the cobblestone paths, Dusty padding beside him, tail wagging at every passing chicken or squirrel. Spring air settled on his skin, sweet and crisp. He had told himself he was just getting some fresh air, stretching his legs—nothing weird about that. 

But… his steps steered toward the bus stop anyway. 

Curious. That’s all. Haley had said the new farmer was moving in today. No harm in seeing for himself. 

Sure enough, at the top of the abandoned lot, someone stood with their sleeves rolled up, unloading a stack of boxes from the trunk of a dusty old cab. A couple of suitcases sat on the grass, along with a crate labeled tools. 

They looked… winded. Clearly they weren’t built for this life, not yet, at least. 

Alex grinned. He turned to Dusty, letting the leash go. “Be good, no harassing squirrels.” 

He then jogged the last few steps up the road. “Hey! Let me give you a hand with that!”

The newcomer turned at the sound of his voice, a little surprised. “Oh—Thanks, but I think I’ve got—”

Alex was already grabbing a box and tucking it under one arm. Much lighter than the crates this morning. “Too late, already helping.” 

The newcomer laughed, a short, grateful sound. Alex felt his shoulders ease. It didn’t take long for him the haul all the boxes and suitcases to the porch, all nicely stacked for the newcomer. He dusted his hands off for a job well done, pride emanating from his smile. 

The farmer trotted down the rickety, wooden, steps. They were small—at least by Alex’s standards. Very little muscle, and a built unfit for a farmer. He couldn’t help but worry if they’d be cut out for this—but that wasn’t his business. 

“Wow!” The farmer said in slight amusement. “That went a lot faster than I expected, thank you so much…” The farmer trailed, raising a brow. 

“Alex,” He said, finishing their sentence. “Local muscle. At your service.” He flashed a grin.

They smiled and stuck out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m—”

Dusty barked just then, running out from whatever bush he’d been playing in. He sprinted to the new farmer, and planted himself at their feet, tail wagging like a metronome before jumping up. Mud splattered everywhere. 

“Hey–” Alex started. 

“It’s alright, I love dogs.” The farmer was quick with a laugh, crouching to scratch behind his ears. “Who’s this cool dude?” 

“That’s Dusty,” Alex said, his tone softening. “Hope you don’t mind—he picks his favourite people fast.”

“Smart guy,” they said, ruffling Dusty’s fur. “I’m honored.” 

They both stood in silence for a moment, watching Dusty flop into the grass like he owned the whole damn hill. The farmer looked back at Alex with a smile, the kind that felt easy and unguarded. No judgement. No weird small-town wariness. 

“You from around here?” they asked. 

“Yeah,” Alex said. “Grew up here. Still here. Got a job doing town deliveries, so you’ll probably see me around.” 

“Sweet! I’ll have to grow extra crops just for you.” 

Alex laughed, “I’ll hold you to that.” 

The spring air was light, and with Dusty rolling around like a good, Alex felt… at ease. Just for a moment. This person didn’t look at him like they already had him figured out. No sideways glances, no smirks, or loaded silences. 

It was nice.

The rest of the day drifted by in a quiet haze.

After waking up early, powering through his morning run and getting all his training done before noon, Alex found himself… at a loss. He had nothing left to do. No reason to go out. No one to see. He hovered in the kitchen for a bit, aimlessly opening the fridge like something new might have appeared since the last time. It hadn’t.

Eventually, he gave in and flopped onto the couch beside George.

The old man didn’t say anything—just nudged the remote toward him and grunted like that was invitation enough. Alex took it, flipping through channels until he landed on Ferngill Fighters. A rerun, of course, but familiar. Comforting in a way.

They watched in silence at first. Occasionally George would make some dry comment about a character being an idiot, and Alex would snort in agreement. Evelyn bustled in and out of the living room, always with some small offering in hand—a fresh cup of tea for George, a little plate of cookies for Alex. Eventually, she settled into her chair and picked up her knitting, the soft click of needles weaving into the background noise.

The sun slipped lower in the sky. Warm golden light pooled across the floor. It was quiet. Still. And Alex—so used to motion, to noise—felt himself unwind without even realizing it.

With every commercial break, he sank a little deeper into the cushions. His muscles loosened. His eyelids grew heavier. For someone who spent most of his life trying to outrun stillness, this was… okay. Nice, even. The weight of the day softened at the edges, dulled into a blur by the hum of the television and the occasional wheeze of George’s laugh. No pressure to perform, to talk, to smile. He was just here, and for once, that was enough.

He didn’t notice how much time had passed. It could’ve been minutes or hours. The world outside might as well have not existed.

Until it did.

Until—

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

The sharp sound jolted through the room, yanking him out of his haze.

“Alex! Open up!” 

Alex blinked, like he’d just surfaced from deep underwater. Dusty barked once from his corner of the rug before curling back into sleep. Evelyn didn’t flinch, just muttered something about “always someone stopping by.”

George grunted. “That’ll be your blonde.”

Alex groaned and rubbed his face. “Why is she always yelling?”

He trudged to the door, sluggish and slow. He opened the door just enough to peek his head out. “What?”

Haley stood in a cream sweater, hands on her hips and eye gleaming like she was up to no good. “We’re going to the saloon!” 

Alex blinked. “No, we’re not.” 

“C’mooooon!” Haley whined, “The farmer’s there. Everyone’s throwing a little ‘Welcome to Town’ thing. You can’t skip it. It’ll look bad on you.” 

“I’m watching TV.” Alex spoke matter-of-factly, head nodding back inside. 

“You’ve seen that episode like twelve times.” 

“I happen to like that episode.” Alex grinned cheekily. 

Haley made a dramatic sigh and pushed the door open wider. “George, Evelyn. Please, back me up here!” 

Evelyn didn’t look up from her knitting, just a small smile on her wrinkled face. “You should go, dear. Have some fun.” 

“But–”

“Get outta here before you rot into the couch,” George snapped, already changing the channel. 

“See?” Haley beamed, wrapping a hand around his wrist. “Even you grandparents agree. Let’s go!” 

And before he could protest any further, he was being dragged out of the house. Haley always did this. She knew how to get her way, and truthfully, Alex didn’t mind. If not for her, he’d be a training monster, who when he wasn’t working out—was rotting inside doing who knows what. She kept his life exciting, for that, he was grateful. 

What he wasn’t grateful for was not even letting him get changed. 

Dragged out in a green hoodie and grey sweatpants, for once walking the town without his signature jacket. He felt naked without it, but he knew Haley wouldn’t let him turn around to grab it. 

Their feet crunched on the dirt path as they walked to the Saloon, the warm atmosphere radiating off the softly lit building. As they got closer, he could hear laughter and lively conversations inside. He took a deep breath, maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. 

The saloon buzzed with conversation and clinking glasses. The lights were warm and low, casting familiar shadows on the wood walls. Alex followed Haley in like a lost dog, tugging his hoodie sleeves over his wrists, immediately aware of the slight hush that fell as they stepped inside. Not much—but enough for his stomach to knot. 

Surely he couldn’t have imagined that. 

He stuck close to the bar, Gus, cleaning a pint glass, smiled wide when he saw him.

“Hey, Alex. First drink’s on the farmer,” He slide the glass across the shiny counter. 

Alex caught it reflexively. “Oh. Thanks!” 

He looked around. The farmer was chatting easily with Emily near the jukebox as she cleaned a glass, their hands animated as they spoke. Emily tossed her head back with a laugh. Alex smiled slightly, and took a long sip. 

Haley popped into the barstool next to him. “Look at them. Already charming the pants off everyone.” She laughed, sipping her own drink. “Y’know—they’d be kind of cute if not for their ugly clothes and dirt smudged face.”

“Haley–” Alex chided, nudging his elbow into her. “They’re pretty nice, actually. I helped them move in earlier this morning.” 

“Ooooh!” Haley beamed, “Trying to get first pickings from the new farmer huh? Never hurts to have an ally in your corner, especially with these vultures.” She gestured to the crowd with her pint glass. Alex laughed, but it was cut short. 

His eyes landed on Lewis, who stood near the far corner, nursing a beer while Marnie spoke at length about something or other. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t glare. Just… stared. Cold and unreadable. Alex looked away quickly. 

His gaze swept to the other end of the saloon. There they were. Where he was. 

Sam at the pool table, cue stick in hand. Abigail perched on a stool. And Sebastian, hoodie half-zipped, nursing a drink with his usual disinterest. Alex’s eyes caught his for just a second—and something fluttered in his chest.

Sebastian didn’t look away. His eyes held there, unreadable. Unmoving. They gazed Alex up and down, then he smirked. 

That’s when Alex turned away, swallowing hard and facing the bar again. Gus had walked off. Haley was mid-story about some trend she found on the internet. He only half-listened. 

He didn’t know why he kept glancing toward the back of the room, glancing at him. 

The farmer strolled over then, cheerful and pink-cheeked from whatever joke Emily had told him. 

“Hey! My moving saviour! You made it,” they cheered. 

“Yeah,” Alex said, straightening a little with a teasing smile. “Didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Haley grinned. “He was dying to come.” 

Alex flushed lightly and shot Haley a look. The farmer just laughed. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” they said warmly. “It’s nice too see you, Alex. I wish you brought Dusty along.” 

“Woooow!” Haley beamed, “You’ve already met Dusty, Alex must really like you.” 

“Haley–” Alex snapped, embarrassed and pink-cheeked. 

“I’m honoured,” The farmer beamed, “It’s nice to see some friendly faces.” 

“You seem to be making friends just fine,” Alex said. “Heard you charmed Gus and Emily in under five minutes.”

“They were easy,” the farmer winked. “You might be more of a challenge.” 

His mind went blank, a bit more flush rising to his cheeks. He opened his mouth to respond—but then Abigail swooped in. 

“There you are!” she said to the farmer. “C’mon, you haven’t met Sam and Sebastian yet!”

“Oh—right! I’ll be back in a sec!” The farmer said with a quick wave to Alex and Haley. 

Alex watched them go, something uncomfortable settling in his chest. His eyes followed them as Abigail tugged the farmer over to her usual corner. Alex was too far away to hear anything, but he watched Sebastian glance up. His eyes flicked over the farmer—assessing, then settling. Sam gave a lazy wave. 

Then the farmer said something. Alex couldn’t hear it. 

But he heard Sebastian laugh, and it was as if the room went silent. 

It wasn’t a chuckle. It wasn’t a polite smile.

It was a real, sudden, Sebastian laugh. The kind that used to burst out of him like a surprise. The kind Alex used to get on the regular. Middle school lunch tables. Late nights in the treehouse. Dumb inside jokes and long walks home. 

It punched him in the gut. 

“...Alex?” 

He blinked. Haley was waving a hand in front of his face. 

“What?” He snapped.

She then turned her gaze back subtly, and grinned. “Oooooooh.” 

“What?” 

“Someone’s jealous.” 

Alex’s face flushed bright red, and he quickly shook his head. “I’m not—” he rolled his eyes, voice sharp. “I’m not jealous.” 

Haley giggled. 

Alex’s knuckles tightened around his glass. “The farmer’s cool. Of course they’d make him laugh.” He spoke through gritted teeth, unsure of who he was trying to convince. Haley just hummed in agreement. 

His eyes drifted back. 

The farmer leaned in, whispering something in Sebastian’s ear. And then—

Both of them turned to look straight at him. Right at him. 

Alex froze. 

A rush of heat climbed up his neck. He looked away, fast, swallowing the lump in his throat. His stomach turned. The echo of that laugh lingered, hollow now. His grip tightened on the b ar, then loosened, suddenly sick of himself. 

They’re talking about you. Of course they are. That laugh? Directly at you. That look he gave? Disgust. Why wouldn’t it be?

“Hey,” Haley started, frowning a little now. “Are you—” 

Alex stood so fast his stool scraped against the floor. “I gotta go.” 

“What? Alex—”

“Tell the farmer thanks for the drink.” 

He didn’t wait for her response. He shoved through the door and into the cool night, not even sure why his throat felt tight. Why his heart hurt so goddamn much. Behind him, he heard Haley calling out his name. He didn’t turn around, he just walked. 

The saloon door slammed hard behind him, cutting through the music and chatter like a blade. A few heads turned. Gus flinched behind the counter. Haley sighed and dragged a hand down her face. 

“Well,” she muttered, half to herself, “that went great.”

The farmer hesitated, then stepped up beside her, worry etched into their expression. “Was it… something I said?” 

Haley blinked, caught off guard, then shook her head quickly. “No–no, don’t worry, it’s not you. It’s just… Alex being Alex.”

The farmer tilted their head, unconvinced. 

Haley leaned closer, dropping her voice low enough that only someone standing right beside her would hear. “Most folks around here have a pretty… negative impression of Alex. He’s not perfect, sure, but he’s trying. It’s just—” she lowered her gaze, “don’t tell him I told you, but he gets insecure. When people look at him like he’s some kinda lost cause, or… like they’ve already decided who he is. He gets defensive.” 

The farmer’s eyes softened with understanding. 

Across the room, someone else heard. 

Abigail still held her cue mid-shot, unaware—or uncaring—about the incident that happened. Sam blinked like he’d missed something. 

But Sebastian just stood there, unmoving. The end of his cigarette burned low, the smoke curling lazily into the air. He didn’t look at Haley or the farmer—his eyes stayed on the door Alex had walked through, brow knit, shoulders drawn in a little tighter than usual. 

He didn’t say a word… he lingered on that door like he was still watching him leave.

Notes:

the farmer is a cryptid. a god, if you will. no one knows, but thats ok bc we know! we are the farmer and they r us.

Chapter 3

🌸 Spring 6  - Year 1 🌸

Almost a week into the job, and Alex could already feel his muscles adjusting to the heavy labor. Carrying crates was becoming near child’s play—though he knew they’d only get heavier as the season progressed. Most farms were still on the brink of spring, just beginning to bloom, but a full harvest loomed on the horizon. He shuddered at the thought. Just how many crates would he have to haul back and forth when that time came?

At least it was good for him. And slowly, the money was starting to add up.

His morning routine had begun to shift in tandem. He now woke up to the third alarm—something that still caught him by surprise.

This morning was no different. The third alarm blared just before dawn, and Alex sat up with a groggy groan, rubbing at his eyes before reaching over to silence it. He shuffled under his covers, loath to leave the warmth, but he knew the longer he waited, the more sour Lewis’s reaction would be.

He squeezed his eyes shut for another second, then forced them open. The patter of rain on his bedroom window made his ears twitch. Of course. Spring always brought the rain. Great for farmers—not so great for the delivery guy.

He sighed heavily. He’d have to get used to rainy days eventually. No better time than now.

He got ready quickly, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a thick sweater, leaving the letterman jacket behind. It didn’t feel right for work, and more than that—it didn’t feel like him anymore. He was trying to change, and that included letting go of coping mechanisms he’d clung to for far too long.

As the storm outside began to rumble louder, he trudged into the kitchen. The thought of calling in sick crossed his mind, especially when a sharp clap of thunder rattled the windowpanes. But even that sounded more appealing than enduring another one of Lewis’s lectures.

He made a cup of coffee—now a staple of his morning, despite how he used to loathe the stuff in high school. He used to claim it stunted growth and was “for the weak.” Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Haley had gifted him a thermos as a good-luck-on-your-new-job present, which gave him more incentive to brew it.

As he stirred sugar into his mug, something nudged at his leg. He glanced down and saw Dusty, tongue out, tail wagging like a motor, clearly thrilled despite the weather.

“What is it, boy?” Alex asked, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “You wanna come with me today?”

Dusty gave an enthusiastic bark in response, his tail wagging even faster.

Alex laughed and bent to scratch behind his ears. “Alright, you can come. It'll do me some good to have company. Just—no throwing up in the front seat, okay?”

Another bark—Alex took it as a “yes, sir.”

With coffee in hand, he pulled on his shoes by the door, bracing himself for the chaos outside. The wind howled through the cracks in the windows, and he grabbed George’s old raincoat from the hook. It was heavier than he remembered, but extra protection wouldn’t hurt.

The second he stepped outside, the rain slammed into him like a wall. It poured from the sky in relentless sheets, soaking him to the bone within seconds. He sprinted for the truck, Dusty already bounding ahead of him. He threw open the door for the dog, who hopped in without hesitation, then scrambled inside himself and slammed the door shut against the storm.

“You picked the wrong day to come with me, buddy,” Alex huffed, wringing out the sleeve of his sweater. “At least I won’t be suffering alone.”

Today, he decided to take a different route.

Instead of driving the winding Cedarsap Trail, he cut through the east side of town and made his way up past Blue Moon Vineyard first. Sophia’s crates were light—just seeds and tools for now. From there, he took the back road that twisted toward Fairhaven, where he exchanged a few quick words with Andy before hauling his heavy crates into the truck. Marnie’s ranch was the next stop—nothing too taxing—and then, finally, the new farmer’s plot.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he pulled up the familiar dirt path.

Even through the veil of rain, the farm looked peaceful. Muddy, yes—but peaceful in that soft, early-spring kind of way. Sprouts were starting to peek up through the soil. The greenhouse was still under construction, the fence was half-built. But they were doing okay. Starting something new.

He parked and climbed out, letting Dusty stay warm inside the truck.

The crates weren’t heavy—parsnips and some sap—but his chest felt tight as he walked them over.

The saloon. The look on Sebastian’s face. The way the farmer and him laughed… and how loud it felt. 

Alex swallowed hard, brushing the rain from his face.

He hadn’t talked to the farmer since that night.

He hadn’t talked to anyone really, not outside of Haley or Dr. Harvey when necessary. No one had brought it up, but he could feel it in the air—that subtle shift. Like everyone had moved a few steps further away without saying a word. Maybe it was all in his head. Or maybe not. Either way, the embarrassment clung to him like the storm

He’d stormed out. Made a scene on their big day. Made it about him.

And now? He couldn’t even look them in the eye.

He unloaded the crates as quickly as possible, avoiding the porch, avoiding the windows. By the time he got back into the truck, Dusty was curled in the passenger seat like a loaf of bread, fogging up the window.

“Next stop’s Pierre’s,” Alex muttered, shifting into drive.

He cut through the center of town, anyone in their right mind would be curled up inside, in bed. No one was there when he arrived—all sleeping—he assumed. He picked up the usual deliveries, some dry goods, and a few bulk items for Caroline. He didn’t linger. 

With that done, there was only one more part of the new route. 

Instead of circling back around through Pelican Town’s main road, Alex veered north up the gravel path behind Pierre’s. Sure, the road was twisted, but cutting through and then heading west was much easier than taking the bus route. A lot more peaceful, he found. It was narrower than the main trail, muddier too, but it cut down the return time. And more importantly, it let him avoid running into anyone else.

The road twisted upward through the woods, slick with leaves and runoff, and for a while, there was nothing but the sound of rain and the dull thrum of the engine.

Until, of course, the engine made a very different sound.

And then it stopped entirely.

“Shit—are you serious!?”

The rusty truck let out one final, dramatic, wheeze before stuttering to a full, pathetic stop. Alex slammed his hand against the steering wheel and muttered another curse under his breath. The windshield wipers squeaked on, fighting against the downpour, but it was new use. He could barely see two feet pas the glass. 

With a frustrated groan, he shoved open the door and stepped out into the rain, instantly soaked. Water dripped from his hair into his eyes, down the back of his neck. His boots sank into the soft earth with every step as he trudged to the front, lifting the hood and staring hopelessly at the mess of wires and tubes. Not that he knew what he was looking at.

“Great,” he muttered, “just freakin’ great. I don’t have time for this…”

From the edge of the trees nearby, a figure leaned against the fence—hood up, cigarette glowing faintly beneath the shelter of the porch overhand. Alex didn’t notice him at first, too focused on not screaming at the truck. But eventually, he glanced over,  and there he was. Sebastian. Watching. Smirking. 

Of course. 

Alex’s stomach turned. 

His eyes immediately flicked away, focusing back on the engine. He prayed to Yoba, anyone, that Sebastian hadn’t seen him. 

The gravel crunching under boots said otherwise. 

“I’d say that’s karma,” a voice drawled, cutting through the rain. 

Alex flinched and turned around. 

Sebastian now stood a few feet away, dark hoodie pulled over his head, hand flicking the rest of his cigarette bud before putting it out. 

“I heard you were Lewis’s little errand boy now,” Sebastian said, an airy tone to his voice, “Look at you. Taking some responsibility.”

Alex clenched his jaw, deciding—wisely—not to rise to the bait. “Did you come over here just to mock me?”

Sebastian gave him a once-over, clearly enjoying the image of Alex dripping wet like some drowned retriever. “Nah.” he said with a sigh, flicking his cigarette into the mud. “I came to help. Only because you look like a wet, smelly dog in the rain and it’s honestly kind of sad—no offense Dusty.”

At the sound of his name, Dusty barked excitedly from the truck’s open door and jumped down, bolting toward Sebastian without hesitation. The dog bounded up to him like a child seeing an old friend, tail wagging violently as he pawed at his jeans and tried to lick his face.

Sebastian laughed, the sound soft and unexpected. He crouched to scratch behind Dusty’s ears. “Hey, bud. Still remember me, huh?”

Alex blinked, surprised. “He knew you back then?”

Sebastian glanced up, still petting Dusty. “Yeah. Back when he was a puppy. He used to follow you around after school, remember? He’d stop at my house and beg for attention. Guess I left a good impression.”

“Yeah… he doesn’t do that for just anyone.” Alex’s lips twitched. “And, I do not smell.” 

“Debatable.” Sebastian chuckled, standing again, brushing fur from his sleeves. “You look like you’re about to start crying under that hood.” 

“I’m fine,” Alex said quickly. “I’ve got this under control.” 

Sebastian gave him a flat look. “Right. You’re standing in the rain two seconds from screaming at your truck with zero clue what’s wrong. Definitely under control.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Didn’t say you did,” Sebastian shrugged, already walking toward the engine. “But I’m offering. Besides, watching you try to fix it yourself would be depressing.” 

“I–” 

“Look, do you want my help or not?” Sebastian snapped lightly, clearly annoyed at Alex’s constant protests. 

With a heavy sigh Alex swallowed his pride. “...Fine. Be my guest.” He gestured to the engine.

Sebastian pulled his sleeves up and leaned over the engine, fingers moving with a kind of surprising familiarity. “These old trucks are basically held together with duct tape and spite. I’m guessing it’s waterlogged wiring or a spark plug that’s given out. You push it too hard through the mud?”

“Probably,” Alex muttered, watching him work.

“Give me a minute, I’ll grab my tools.” Sebastian said, turning back toward his house. 

Alex waited in the rain, bouncing on the balls of his feet to stay warm. He glanced down at Dusty, who sat patiently in the truck, fogging up the window with his nose.

Soon enough, Sebastian returned with a small toolbox, his black hoodie already soaked. The two crouched under the truck’s hood together. The rain pattered steadily around them, and for a while the only sounds were clicks of metal and the low rumble of thunder in the distance.

“Your battery connection’s loose,” Sebastian muttered, fiddling with something Alex didn’t understand. “And your engine’s probably mad at you for never changing the oil.”

“Hey,” Alex said, “I did change it. Once.”

Sebastian snorted, shaking his head. “Sure, man. Real mechanic behaviour.” 

Alex chuckled despite himself, shoulders relaxing a little. They weren’t exactly bonding, but the silence between them wasn’t as sharp as it used to be.

Ten more minutes passed before Sebastian closed the hood with a satisfying clunk. “Try it now.”

Alex slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine rumbled, coughing once before settling into a low idle. It was alive.

“Holy shit,” Alex beamed, turning his head toward Sebastian. “You’re a lifesaver.”

For a split second, Sebastian froze—caught off guard by the full force of Alex’s smile. His eyes darted away, and he rubbed the back of his neck like he didn’t know what to do with the praise. “It was nothing.”

Alex moved to climb out, but Sebastian stepped forward and blocked the door with an arm, leaning his elbow on the frame.

Alex blinked. “What? Do you want payment or something? I’m pretty broke right now, man…”

Sebastian let out a laugh—genuine, warm, and completely unguarded. It lit up his tired face in a way that made Alex momentarily forget what he was even asking.

“No. God. Relax,” Sebastian said, still grinning. “I helped you fix this hunk of junk. I just want something in return.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “...What?”

Sebastian crossed his arms, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Tell me why you even took this job in the first place. I mean, come on. Lewis? Really?” He looked off toward the road, voice almost casual. “Your grandparents dote on you. I figured you didn’t need the cash. Or maybe you were just bored out of your mind and needed a new way to feel important?” 

It wasn’t said cruelly. But it still stung. 

Alex stiffened. A dozen answers flew to the front of his mind—but none of them were the truth. Not the whole truth.

He hesitated, then forced a grin. “I want the new Xbox,” he said with a shrug. “Gotta earn that extra cash somehow.”

Sebastian blinked at him. “…Seriously?”

Alex nodded, gaze darting away.

Sebastian scoffed. “Yeah, that tracks.” He turned, walking back a few steps. “Here I thought maybe—just maybe—you were actually doing something that mattered.”

Alex didn’t reply. Just hopped in the car and placed his hands on the wheel. 

He turned the key again, but before he could roll the window up, Sebastian leaned in, a little less guarded now. “You should invite Sam over after you get it. He’s obsessed with video games.”

Alex looked up, surprised.

Sebastian hesitated, then gave him the smallest smile. “He’ll probably drag me along if you do.”

He patted the side of the truck and stepped back. “Later, Golden Boy.”

And then he was gone, walking through the rain, shoulders hunched—but not unfriendly.

Alex sat there for a moment longer, engine purring under his hands, rain tapping against the windshield.

“…Golden Boy?”

He shook his head, lips twitching in spite of himself.

Dusty barked once, like he approved.

The road curved again, winding between wet trees and thick brush. Alex blinked rain from his lashes, gripping the wheel tighter as the truck jostled through another shallow dip in the road. He didn’t mind the rain anymore. It somehow felt quieter out here—like the storm had taken the noise with it, leaving only the occasional rustle of leaves and the low hum of his truck’s newly-revived engine.

Golden Boy. It echoed in his head again, unshakable.

Sebastian hadn’t said it mockingly. That was the worst part. There was a flicker of something in his voice, something warmer, teasing, even… fond? No. That couldn’t be right.

Alex huffed, dragging a hand through his damp hair, then immediately regretting it when his fingers came back wet. His mind was spinning.

He hadn’t looked at Sebastian properly in a while. Not really. But today… Yoba. His hoodie had been soaked, clinging to him in a way that outlined every sharp line of his shoulders, the long curve of his spine when he leaned under the hood, hands sure and practiced. Alex had caught himself staring more than once—at the way Sebastian’s brows furrowed in concentration, at the dark lashes framing those focused, slate-colored eyes.

It was stupid. Just the rain messing with his head. And the way Sebastian pushed his sleeves up, exposing pale, veined forearms like it was nothing. The casual confidence in the way he worked, the way he spoke, like helping Alex out in the rain was no big deal.

And then he’d laughed. Really laughed.

Alex’s heart had skipped like an idiot when he saw it. Sebastian’s grin wide and unguarded, eyes crinkling just a little at the corners. He hadn’t heard that laugh since they were kids, back when things were simpler and way less confusing. Back when he wasn’t sitting alone in a truck, thinking about how good a guy looked soaking wet in the middle of a thunderstorm.

He cursed under his breath and tapped the steering wheel anxiously.

Why was he thinking about it so much? About him so much?

Sure, they’d had a moment. But Sebastian was just… helping. Being decent. That didn’t mean anything. And Alex definitely didn’t feel anything. That weird swooping sensation in his stomach when Sebastian leaned in close? That wasn’t real. That was adrenaline or relief or something normal. 

Straight guys got that too, right?

He groaned, thumping his forehead lightly against the steering wheel as he rolled to a stop at a red light just outside the city limits.

“This is so dumb,” he muttered.

But even as he tried to shove the thoughts away, they crept back in. Sebastian’s voice in the rain, low and sarcastic but not unkind. His fingers brushing Alex’s when he handed him the wrench. The casual way he’d said “Later, Golden Boy,” like it was something he might say again.

Alex leaned back in his seat, staring out at the glistening pavement ahead.

He was not going to think about it.

He’d drop off the shipment. Get back before breakfast. Take Dusty on a walk. And tomorrow, everything would go back to normal.

That was the plan.

Even if part of him—some quiet, buzzing part in his chest—was already looking forward to hearing that nickname again.

He followed his plan to a tee.

The teen he met nearly a week prior was getting friendlier by the day, now addressing Alex before Alex even had a chance to say hi. And moving the crates? It’d never been easier. Sometimes, some of the workers would lend a hand—today being no different. Even if the job was hard labor, and cost a lot in gas money, at least he was making connections outside of Pelican Town. That was always a good start, right? 

It wasn’t long until he was back on the road, and back home. 

After parking the car behind his house, and letting Dusty inside, he made his way to the clinic. He knew Evelyn had an appointment with Dr.Harvey today, as Alex scheduled a follow-up every week to keep a keen eye on her condition.

The rain hadn’t let up one bit. 

If anything, it felt heavier now. Alex jogged across the road, water seeping into boots, shoulders hunched against the violent wind. Everything in town looked greyer than usual. The cobblestone slippery, the sky dark like early evening even though it was barely past ten. He didn’t know if it was the weather or his own nerves, but something in the air felt wrong. 

By the time he reached the clinic, his raincoat was soaked. He pushed the door open with a heavy sigh, blinking rain from his eyes as the familiar chime of the bell rang overhead. 

Huh, no Maru today. He thought. 

Harvey looked up immediately from the front desk, his face brightening when he saw who it was. 

“Ah, Alex. You’re back earlier than I expected,” he said, stepping out from behind the counter and drying his hands on a towel. “How was the delivery?” 

Alex forced a smile. “Fine. Rain let up in the city, at least.” 

“Is that so?” Harvey glanced toward the window. “It’s like we’ve got our own private stormcloud here.” 

Alex gave a hollow laugh and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Feels about right.” 

Harvey motioned for him to sit in the waiting area. The place was quiet, no other patients, no soft chatter behind the walls. Just the muted hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional drip of water.

“She’s in the back room,” Harvey said gently. “Lying down. She told me she was a little more tired than usual today.”

“Makes sense,” Alex nodded, eyes flicking toward the closed door down the hall. He rubbed his palms together, a shiver flashing down his spine. 

There was a long pause. He could hear the tick of the clock above reception. A soft cough from somewhere deeper in the clinic. 

Then, “So,” Alex said quietly, “tell it to me straight. Is she… doing any better?”

Harvey  didn’t answer at first. That was more than enough of a sign. 

He adjusted his glasses and lowered his voice, tone careful. “Alex… I want to be honest with you. Her condition is worsening, slowly, thank god… but still.”

Alex’s jaw tightened. “Okay. How bad?” 

“She’s in more pain than she’s letting on,” Harvey admitted. “I’ve adjusted her medication to try and help, but truthfully, I don’t have the equipment here to manage this the way she needs. Not long-term.”

Alex exhaled sharply through his nose, head lowering into his hands for a moment. The hum of the lights began to ring in his ears. His elbows rested on his knees, legs bouncing with nervous energy. “You’re saying she needs to go to Zuzu hospital, right?” 

“Yes,” Harvey said, regret in his tone. “They have specialists and resources that could make a real different. I’ve contacted them before. For Evelyn… it could mean managing her pain properly. Giving her some real comfort.” 

Alex looked up. “But that’s—expensive, right? Like… ridiculously expensive. And she can’t travel on her own. I’d have to drive her. Be there for checkups. That’s gas. Appointments. Time off. I—”

“I know,” Harvey cut in gently, placing a hand on Alex’s trembling shoulder. “I know, Alex.  I wouldn’t bring this up unless it was dire. I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I don’t want to lie to you either.” 

Alex’s throat felt tight. He nodded once, slowly. 

“There are options,” Harvey continued, quieter now. “The best thing you can do is go in person. Talk to the hospital’s reception team directly. If they know your situation–get to know Evelyn—they might work with you on costs. Payment plans. Prioritizing essential visits first.”

Alex nodded again, less certain this time. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll talk to them.”

Another silence settled between them. Harvey watched him carefully,  eyes scanning the tension in Alex’s posture. He sat too still, like his muscles were clenched just to keep him from unraveling. 

“You’re doing a lot,” Harvey said softly. “And I don’t just mean today. I can see it wearing on you.” 

Alex’s smile didn’t quite reach his tired eyes. “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t have to be–”

“I said I’m fine,” Alex repeated—quiet, but firm. 

Harvey didn’t push him. Just nodded, eyes kind behind the glass. 

“If you ever need to talk,” he said, “you know my door’s wide open.” 

“Thanks,” Alex murmured, voice hoarse. 

He stood, running a hand through his damp hair and glancing again toward the back hallway. 

“I need to deliver the money to Lewis,” Alex said, turning his gaze towards Harvey. “Do you mind if you walk her home when she’s finished resting?” 

“Of course, Alex. It’s my pleasure.” 

“Thanks again,” Alex repeated, voice low but sincere. “You’ve been a huge help.”

Alex re-welcomed the storm with a scowl, trudging his way towards his next destination. He knew Lewis wouldn’t be pleased to receive a pouch of soaking wet gold, but at this point—he couldn’t care less. His thoughts swarmed and festered with stress and anxiety, Evelyn’s worsening condition, Zuzu City hospital bills, how the hell he was going to afford any of it.

He soon arrived at the Mayor’s house, knocking with more force than intended. No answer. He didn’t bother to knock a second time—if Lewis wasn’t home, that simply was not his problem. He waited a moment in the freezing rain, before turning heel, about to leave when—

“Ah, Alex!” The door creaked open. Lewis appeared in the entryway, looking a little out of breath, his shirt slightly rumpled, cheeks pink. “Sorry for the delay.” 

Alex blinked, glancing past the mayor toward the hallway. The bedroom door was cracked just slightly. A hint of red fabric—maybe a scarf—peeked from the edge. He didn’t ask.

“You’re earlier than I expected,” Lewis said, recovering quickly with a too-cheerful tone. “Good on ya’, son.”

Alex just hummed in response, no visible smile on his face. 

“Well, don’t just stand there in the rain—come in,” Lewis stepped aside for Alex to enter. He could feel his boot sloshing as he walked through the front door and dripped onto the hardwood.

“If you don’t mind waiting a moment,” Lewis continued, already turning away, “I’ll go grab your payment.”

Alex stayed near the door, unsure whether he was even meant to sit down. He stared at the tidy little room, the polished floor, the perfectly arranged fruit bowl on the dining table. Everything in its place. He stood there, soaked to the bone and hollowed out with exhaustion, feeling like a puddle of mud in someone else’s clean house.

Lewis returned after a minute, a small pouch in hand. The exchange was quick—Alex held out his hand, and Lewis dropped the coin into it with a satisfied smile.

“You’re doing well, Alex,” he said, weighing the words with a mix of praise and patronizing pride. “I knew you’d live up to my expectations.”

“Thanks,” Alex muttered, jaw tight.

Lewis tilted his head. “Something the matter?”

Alex let out a heavy sigh, running his hand through his wet mop of hair. “It’s Evelyn… Her condition is getting worse. Harvey doesn’t have the supplies needed for her condition, so she needs to go to Zuzu City Hospital.” 

Lewis gave a polite, noncommittal hum. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Alex knew he wasn’t.

“I wanted to ask you something.” He hesitated, voice faltering. “I’ll need time off… to take her to appointments. And the hospital visits—” he swallowed, “they’re expensive.”

Lewis’s eyes flicked toward the bedroom, clearly growing impatient. “Go on, son.”

“I was wondering if you could hire a second delivery driver. For the days I can’t make it. And… maybe consider raising my cut?”

Lewis didn’t respond right away. His eyebrows lifted, expression almost amused.

“You’re asking a lot out of me,” he said.

“I—”

“Especially after your little outburst at the saloon this week.” His voice was mild, but there was a sharp edge beneath it. “Not exactly the image we want our employees setting.”

Alex’s heart dropped, shame rising like bile. His fingers clenched around the pouch of coins.

Lewis tapped his chin thoughtfully, then gave a light shrug. “But, for Evelyn’s sake… I suppose we can come to an arrangement.”

Alex’s head lifted, hope flaring in his chest.

“I’ll bump your commission from three to seven percent. You’ll need to draft a schedule—days you can and can’t work, in advance. And keep me informed. I’m doing a major favour for you here,” Lewis added, that syrupy smile creeping back. “Don’t go disappointing me now.”

Alex nodded quickly, straightening his posture even though his clothes clung to him like a second skin. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

He turned and stepped out into the storm again, the door shutting quietly behind him.

When he got home, George was planted in front of the TV, remote in hand, flicking through static-heavy channels like he was on a mission. The volume was a little too loud, but that was typical. George never liked silence much when Evelyn wasn’t in the room.

Alex shut the door behind him and shrugged off his damp jacket.

“Welcome back, kid,” George grunted, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Your dog’s been whining since you left. For an old mutt, he’s got the lungs of a damn opera singer.”

Alex let out a soft laugh, walking over to peek at whatever nonsense was on the TV. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” George muttered flatly, giving Alex a side-eye. “Now take him out before he drives me to the grave.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex gave George’s arm a light squeeze in passing before heading toward the back of the house.

Dusty was already at the door, tail wagging wildly, leash in his mouth like he’d been rehearsing this moment all morning. He barked once, bright-eyed and ready.

“You wanna go on a walk, huh? Even in this rain?” Alex asked, crouching down to rub behind his ears.

Dusty barked again, louder.

Alex groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “You’re really working me to the bone here, Dusty.” He looked back down, smiling despite himself. “But I can’t say no to that face.”

He got changed  out of his wet clothes and into something drier. Well-worn joggers, an old hoodie, his battered sneakers. The kind of thing  you could get rained on in and not care. He lingered, staring at his letterman jacket that hung on the door. He sighed, clipping Dusty’s leash on and stepping back outside. 

The storm had quieted by now, the downpour thinning into a lazy drizzle. It wasn’t sunny, but the sky had lightened, the thick clouds thinning out here and there like pulled cotton. The air smelled like earth and wet pavement. The kind of scent that stuck in your nose for hours afterward.

Alex had no destination in mind, so he let Dusty lead. The wandered past houses, along the softened dirt paths, until eventually, the town gave way to  trees and the hush of nature. It was quieter out here.

They ended up near a riverbank, the familiar bend in the water glinting silver in the soft light. Dusty sniffed the grass, pulling Alex a little farther down the slope, tail wagging with interest. 

Alex came to a slow stop at the edge of the river, breath catching in his throat.

Something about the way the water moved, rippling gently under the grey sky… it pulled a long forgotten memory forward with the tide. 

He was around twelve at the time. The first spring after he moved in with his grandparents part-time. His mom had only just passed. Everything was still raw, unfamiliar and scary. He remembered feeling like a fish out of water. 

But Sebastian had been there. 

They already knew each other from school. Sebastian always wore long-sleeves that were too big for him, and scribbled comic panels in hiss notebooks when he thought no one was looking. Alex always thought they were so cool!  

Something about the quiet valley, and having no friends, brought them closer. Back then, Sebastian still had reddish hair, soft and messy, a little brighter than his mother’s. He hadn’t dyed it dark purple yet. 

They’d snuck out together that day, boots stomping in the wet grass and jumping in puddles, both of them soaked to the bone. They laughed like it didn’t matter, like  nothing mattered. Alex remembered the way Sebastian grinned at him from the riverbank, holding up a flat rock like it was treasure. 

“You ever skip stones before?” He’d asked.

“Nope!” 

Sebastian had shown him how. Flick your wrist just right, keep it low to the water. Alex’s first few tries had plunked straight in, but eventually he got the hang of it.  They’d taken turns after that, trying to beat each other’s skips. 

Alex remembered how they’d both collapsed onto the muddy grass afterwards, rain dripping from t heir lashes, not saying anything. Just lying there, side by side, watching the clouds drift by and listening to the water. 

It was the first time Alex hadn’t felt so… alone. 

Dusty barked, breaking the silence and bringing Alex back to the present. He nosed around in the grass until he unearthed a smooth, flat rock. He dropped it by Alex’s show, tail wagging. 

Alex huffed a dry laugh. “What, you want me to skip it?” 

Dusty barked again, happy as ever. 

Alex picked it up, rolling the stone between his fingers. It was a good one—cool and smooth. Smart dog. 

He pulled back and let it fly. It skipped once, twice, three time before it dropped beneath the surface with a soft plunk.

Alex stared out at  the ripples for a moment longer, chest tight. 

“Stupid to miss someone who clearly doesn’t miss you,” he muttered under his breath, almost like he was trying to convince himself. 

The breeze blew gently through his hair. Dusty came up beside him, pressing close, warm and grounding.

Alex reached down to rub his ears again. “Come on, bud. Let’s head back.”

By the time Alex and Dusty were making their way back home, the rain had mostly tapered off. The clouds hung thick and heavy, but the worst of it had passed. A soft mist still clung to the air, clinging to his hoodie and the frayed ends of Dusty’s leash. The path back toward town was muddy but manageable, and Dusty didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. If anything, he looked proud of himself—tail wagging, tongue lolling, sniffing every puddle like it was brand new.

They rounded the bend past the carpenter’s shop when someone called out from ahead.

“There you are!”

Alex blinked, startled out of his thoughts. The farmer was jogging toward him, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with something close to determination—or maybe mischief. Hard to tell with them.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere ,” they said, catching their breath.

Alex rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling ten times more awkward. The memory of storming out of the saloon flashed hot across his mind, and he looked away, down at Dusty, who had perked up at the sight of a new friend.

“Look,” Alex started, voice a bit lower than usual, “I’m really sorry about the other night. I think I was just... tired from deliveries and stuff. It wasn’t personal.”

The farmer blinked at him like he’d just said something ridiculous.

“Oh my God, don’t even worry about that. I get it. Really,” they said, already rifling through their bag. “I have siblings. I know what a bad mood looks like.”

Alex let out a quiet breath, half-relieved, half-embarrassed. “Still. Wasn’t cool of me.”

The farmer waved it off like they were shooing a fly.

“I wasn’t even mad! If I got upset every time someone left me in the dust with a huff, I’d be able to use my tears to water my crops!”

They pulled something out of their bag and held it out toward him with both hands—a carefully packed container, warm to the touch.

“This is my peace offering.”

Alex stared at it for a second, then took it from them.

“…Complete breakfast?”

“Marnie gave me some supplies to help me make it,” the farmer said proudly, as if this were a world-class diplomatic gesture. “You like it, right?”

Alex’s face lit up like the sun finally cracked through the clouds. “Are you kidding? This is awesome. I love this stuff.”

The farmer grinned like they already knew that.

“Of course you do.”

Alex looked down at the container in his hands, still a little stunned. A warm, buttery smell was sneaking through the lid. Eggs, pancakes, hash browns—everything exactly the way he liked it. It was so specific it almost felt like fate.

He narrowed his eyes, half-teasing, half-genuinely confused. “Okay… but how’d you know this was my favorite?”

The farmer just winked. “I have my ways.”

Alex squinted at them, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re kinda weird, you know that?”

“Yup,” the farmer chirped, completely unbothered. “And you’re kinda sweet when you smile.”

Alex barked a laugh, more surprised than anything. “Yeah, okay.”

There was a brief pause, comfortable in its quiet.

“Well,” the farmer clapped their hands together, adjusting their bag over one shoulder. “I’ve gotta get to Pierre’s before he closes. Gold star parsnips don’t grow themselves.”

“Right… yeah.”

“Bye, Alex!” they called, already turning to jog off down the path.

He lifted a hand, but they were already gone. Just the sound of their footsteps splashing through soft mud, fading into the distance.

Alex looked down at the container again, then at Dusty, who sat beside him expectantly.

“…They’re weird,” he muttered.

Dusty wagged his tail.

“But… nice.”

He gave the leash a gentle tug and started the walk home, the weight of the breakfast box in his hands somehow heavier than it should’ve been. 

And for the first time all day, his chest didn’t feel quite so tight.

Notes:

i know the start is slow / alex focused, honestly the whole fic is pretty alex focused, so get used to it >:). just as a warning, this fic is super slowburn so..... we're in it for the long haul!

Chapter 4

🌸 Spring 23  - Year 1 🌸

Anxiety had carved out a place in his chest—deep-rooted, tight, and unrelenting. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed and flickered as Alex sat stiffly in a bright blue plastic chair, his leg bouncing non-stop. The Zuzu City hospital waiting room was loud and restless, far from the quiet calm of Harvey’s clinic.

He had taken Harvey’s advice last week, talking to the hospital receptionist in person after finishing up deliveries in the city. That alone had taken courage, every step into the sterile building made his stomach knot. But now, after a full week of agonizing silence, Evelyn’s first appointment had finally arrived.

He just wasn’t allowed to be in the room with her.

The nurse had explained it kindly, something about Patient-Doctor Confidentiality, and how family members could sometimes affect the truthfulness of the initial evaluation. Alex knew she wasn’t wrong. Evelyn had a habit of sugarcoating everything when it came to her health. Just like his mom used to.

He wished—for once—they’d be honest with him.

The pit in his stomach only deepened with every minute that passed. He tried to distract himself by watching the people around him: a kid sobbing over a broken wrist, a man shouting at a nurse over a billing mistake, a woman pacing back and forth and muttering under her breath. It was chaos. And it wasn’t helping.

The walls felt like they were closing in.

He dropped his gaze to the white tile floor, fixating on the grout lines, counting each one like they were steps on a path that could lead him out of this. His heartbeat felt too fast, too loud. He chewed the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper. His breathing grew shallow, his chest tightening more with every passing second.

His hands were shaking when he heard it.

“Alex?”

He looked up, startled, eyes landing on a nurse standing a few feet away with a clipboard in her hands. She offered a soft, practiced smile.

“The doctor is ready to speak with you now,” she said. “If you could follow me, please.”

He stood quickly, muttering a quiet thanks as he fell in step behind her. The hallway they walked down felt impossibly long, all white walls and glaring lights. Their footsteps echoed through the corridor, even with all the background noise. Alex took a deep breath and held it in until his lungs hurt.

When they finally stopped, the nurse pushed open a door and led him inside.

Evelyn wasn’t there.

The doctor—mid-thirties, blonde, with gentle eyes behind thick glasses—was typing something into the computer at her desk. She looked up as Alex walked in, her expression softening.

“Alex. Please, take a seat.”

His stomach lurched. “Where’s Granny?”

“She just stepped out to use the restroom,” the doctor replied, and Alex released the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He sat down in the stiff plastic chair beside the desk, his hands clenched tight between his knees. The doctor gave him a small, reassuring smile.

“It’s a good thing you brought her in when you did,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. “Her condition is stable for now, but if you’d waited much longer, it might’ve progressed beyond what we could treat.”

Alex’s eyes widened, hope flickering in his chest. “So... does that mean—?”

“She can be cured,” the doctor confirmed with a nod. “We caught it early enough.”

For a moment, everything inside Alex loosened. The tension in his shoulders eased. His heart finally slowed.

But then she added, “However—”

And it all came crashing back down.

“It’s going to take ongoing treatment,” she said, her tone shifting into something more clinical. “We’re starting her on a new medication today, which means biweekly blood tests to monitor for side effects. It can act as a blood thinner in rare cases, so we need to be careful.”

Alex sat upright, jaw tight, but he didn’t interrupt.

“She’ll also need weekly check-ins with me to monitor her progress and overall health.”

His chest tensed again.

“I understand making it out here is difficult for you,” she said, her voice gentler now.

Alex nodded once.

“We can conduct the weekly check-ins over the phone, then,” she said, spinning her chair slightly back toward the computer. “I’ll work out a schedule with her once she’s back from the restroom. Something that’s manageable for you both.”

Alex exhaled—slow and steady this time.

“Thank you,” he said, a smile starting to creep onto his face. “Really. Thank you so much.”

The doctor didn’t return the smile right away.

“I wouldn’t be thanking me just yet,” she said, reaching for a sheet of paper and handing it to him. “This is your bill for today’s visit.”

Alex took the paper. His eyes scanned the itemized list of services. Consult. Bloodwork. Imaging. Medication prep.

His gaze stopped on the total at the bottom, circled in thick red marker.

2,500 gold.

His smile vanished. His heart sank.

“I… I didn’t think it’d be that much,” he admitted, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, tone firm but not unkind. “This is the best we can do. If it’s any consolation, you’ll only have to pay that amount twice a week. The weekly phone check-ins are my pleasure. No charge.”

Alex blinked, stunned. “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” she said, already turning back to the computer. “We try to help where we can.”

Alex’s throat tightened. “Thank you,” he said again, quieter this time.

A moment later, Evelyn returned to the room, using her cane to gently close the door behind her. Alex stood to help her into the chair beside him as the doctor began outlining a schedule of appointments. Between soft chatter and polite nods, they arranged the next month’s worth of tests and calls, the doctor patient and methodical.

By the time they left the hospital, the sky had begun to clear. The sun peeked through scattered clouds as Alex helped Evelyn into the passenger seat of his truck, the door creaking softly on its hinges. He rounded the front and slid into the driver’s seat, the weight of the receipt still burning a hole in his pocket.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just started the engine and kept his eyes on the road.

They were still on the outskirts of the city when Evelyn finally spoke, her voice light but hopeful. “That doctor was so nice, wasn’t she?”

Alex forced a smile, his eyes still fixed ahead. He only hummed in response, nodding slightly as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. His throat felt too tight to speak.

A quiet pause settled between them. Nothing but the rattle of the old truck engine and the steady hum of tires on pavement.

“But that hospital…” Evelyn made a face. “It was so crowded and loud, nothing like Dr. Harvey’s clinic.”

Again, Alex nodded, another noncommittal hum escaping his throat. It was all the sound he could manage without his voice cracking.

“But I think they can really help me,” she said after a beat, and there was something bright in her tone, something gentle and believing. She turned slightly to look at him. “Don’t you think so?”

Alex flicked his eyes toward her for just a second, never turning his head from the road. “Yeah…” he murmured. But in his pocket, the receipt still sat like a lead weight, burning a hole through the denim.

There was a silence again. But this time, Evelyn broke it with something softer.

“Alex…” she said gently, her tone changing. “You know you can talk to me, sweetheart. Please.”

She could always see through him. His glossy eyes, the way his jaw clenched, the way he wouldn’t meet her gaze. He swallowed hard.

“I’m fine, it’s just—” His voice was rough, almost rasping. “This is just like Mom all over again.”

“Oh, Alex, sweetheart—”

“But it’s fine!” he cut in quickly, a wide, too-bright grin flashing across his face. “This time I’m older and I can take care of everything, so you don’t need to worry, okay? Doctors’ orders.”

Evelyn sighed, her expression caught somewhere between amused and heartbroken. She turned her head, looking out the passenger window. Trees passed by in a blur, and somewhere distant, a crow called out through the clouds. A soft, tired smile touched her lips.

“I know your mother’s passing was hard on you,” she said, her voice warm with memory. “But she died happy.”

Alex blinked, his throat thickening again. He didn’t say anything.

“Do you know why?” she asked, glancing at him.

He shook his head, subtle and slow. His hands clenched tighter on the wheel.

“Because she got to spend her last years with you .” Evelyn’s voice didn’t tremble, it glowed with certainty. “And I’ll be even happier. Because I got to spend my life with you and George .”

She let out a soft, wheezy laugh, lightening the air in the truck. Alex hated to admit it—but it worked. A small chuckle slipped from his chest before he could stop it.

“So don’t go working yourself to death trying to keep me alive, you hear?” she said with a teasing smile. “We can’t afford two graves right now.”

That time, Alex really laughed. The sound came out like a sigh, like warmth finally escaping his lungs. He brought one hand up to rub at his eyes, brushing away the gloss before it could fall.

“Thanks, Granny.”

The rest of the drive home was peaceful, the radio humming softly as Alex and Evelyn chatted here and there, trading idle comments about traffic and weather and which gas stations had the best snacks. When an old rock song came on, one Alex knew by heart, he couldn’t help but sing along, half-mocking the dramatic vocals. Evelyn clapped along off-beat, cheering him on with the enthusiasm of a front-row fan. It made him laugh, and for a moment, he almost forgot about the bill folded in his pocket.

It didn’t take long for them to reach home.

As they stepped inside, Evelyn gave him a kiss on the cheek and said she was going to lie down. Between the long doctor’s appointment and the bumpy ride back, she was overdue for a nap. George, true to routine, was already snoring in his chair. Evelyn scuttled off down the hallway, her smile still tired but content.

“Sleep well,” Alex said softly, watching her close the door behind her.

And then—silence.

He stood there for a long moment, suspended in a weird kind of limbo. This was his first real day off in nearly three weeks, and he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself. Normally, he’d hit the weights, take Dusty for a jog, or hang out with Haley. But his muscles ached from unloading crates all week, Dusty was passed out and snoring louder than George, and Haley had vanished on a photography adventure with Penny.

So now he just… stood.

His eyes wandered across the living room, then to the hallway, then to the kitchen. The idea of TV felt too lazy. His bed? Tempting, but his back said nope . Then his gaze landed on the kitchen—and the disaster within.

The sink was a mountain of dishes. A swarm of flies hovered like they paid rent. A banana on the counter had entered a new stage of decomposition previously undocumented by science.

Alex squinted at it. “You ever seen a fruit that wet on the outside?”

No response. Just the buzzing of flies and the haunting scent of what may have once been yogurt.

He sighed and turned on his heel, only to return moments later, dressed for battle.

A bandana tied tightly around his head to hold back his hair, save for a few rebellious strands. Long sleeves rolled up to the elbows. A worn green apron with a scattered bleach stain down the front. And crocs—lime green, of course. The ultimate cleaning footwear.

With a dramatic exhale, he clicked on the old stereo by the fridge and scrolled through his playlist until he found the one labeled “Mom’s Deep Clean Mode.”

The first song? A rock ballad with a beat perfect for scrubbing grout.

He got to work.

First the dishes—an overwhelming sea of mugs, plates, and one mysterious pot that looked like it’d been abandoned after a failed science experiment. He filled the sink, added soap, and washed like his life depended on it. Next, the counters, wiped, scrubbed, and sprayed within an inch of their lives. Then the floor. Then the fridge. He even organized the pantry alphabetically, just to feel something.

As he moved, something in him started to ease. The routine helped. The rhythm of the music, the satisfaction of a clean surface, the brief illusion that he had control over at least this corner of his life. He found himself humming along to the next track, bouncing slightly on his feet as he wiped down the stovetop.

“Hell yeah,” he muttered to himself, admiring the now-gleaming countertops. “Take that , flies.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Just as he pulled the dish towel off his shoulder and turned to throw it in the laundry bin—

KNOCK KNOCK .

Alex froze.

He glanced at the clock. No deliveries scheduled. No appointments. Dusty didn’t even stir from the couch.

He stepped toward the door slowly, still wearing the apron, a sponge in one hand like a weapon.

Another knock.

He opened the door—and blinked.

“Wow,” Sebastian said as soon as Alex opened the door, eyeing him from head to toe. “Didn’t know Pelican Town’s star quarterback moonlighted as a janitor.”

Alex blinked, still a little breathless from scrubbing counters. “Sebastian—”

Sebastian crossed his arms, trying not to smirk. “Are the Crocs integral to the outfit, or just an added touch?”

“Yes,” Alex said, deadpan but with the faintest glint in his eye. “They are, actually . Best indoor shoes for cleaning. Grip. Comfort. Aesthetic.”

Sebastian let out a short laugh, brushing some hair behind his ear. “You’re full of new surprises every day.”

“What can I say,” Alex shrugged, “I'm a man of mystery. So… can I help you? As you can see, I was kinda in the middle of something important.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, suddenly reminded to play his part. “I think I left my wrench in your trunk bed. From when we—when I fixed your truck the other day.”

Alex tilted his head. “Are you sure? I didn’t see anything when I did my shipments this week.”

Sebastian shrugged a little too casually. “Yeah, well... I don’t really trust your observation skills, so can I take a look for myself?”

“Sure, give me a sec.” Alex put the sponge down and tugged off the apron, tossing it onto the counter. “I’ll come with you. Just so I can see the look on your face when I’m right.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes but was already walking toward the truck. “Yeah, yeah. Sure thing.”

They reached the truck, and for the next few minutes, they searched in comfortable silence. Alex lifted the tailgate and rummaged around while Sebastian moved to the side compartments. From time to time, he let his eyes drift—more than once lingering on Alex, his shirt damp from the kitchen steam, sleeves rolled tight around his arms, hair pushed back by a bandana.

Sebastian caught himself staring when Alex glanced his way.

“Find anything?” Alex asked, brow raised.

Sebastian’s eyes widened a little too fast. He immediately looked back into the truck bed. “Uh…no. Keep looking.”

Eventually, after one final dramatic lift of a tarp, Alex straightened up and leaned against the side of the truck, arms folded. “Ha. Ha. I was right! Told you it wasn’t here.”

Sebastian sighed, a half-smile tugging at his mouth. “I concede. I guess Mom must’ve taken it or something.”

“I tooold you so~!” Alex sang, mockingly triumphant.

Sebastian bumped his shoulder lightly against Alex’s as he passed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a sore winner?”

“All the time back in high school—” Alex started, before the words caught in his throat.

The air shifted. For a split second, the humor drained, replaced by something quieter. He didn’t mean to bring that up. Back when they were... not friends. When Alex had started playing into the locker room jokes, the name-calling. He still remembered the look on Sebastian’s face the day he stopped showing up to lunch.

But before he could spiral further, Alex cleared his throat.

“So... you goin’ to the flower dance tomorrow?”

Sebastian blinked, like he hadn’t expected the pivot. “Don’t usually go... might this time.” He said it casually, too casually. “You?” 

Alex narrowed his eyes slightly. “Haley’ll probably drag me by the arm, so yeah. I mean, I am the best dance partner she knows.”

Sebastian scoffed. “Now I have to go, just to see if that’s true.”

“Oh? You wanna watch me dance?”

Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh. “I want to watch you fail.”

Alex grinned, folding his arms. “Bold of you to assume I can’t do both.”

They both laughed, a little too naturally.

Sebastian leaned against the side of the truck. “I’m surprised you even get a day off from being Lewis’ errand boy. Or have you finished paying off that Xbox?”

Alex froze for half a second before digging his heels in. “Nope, not quite yet. Saving up for games and stuff too. Y’know, I gotta be decked out before Sam comes over.”

He almost said “and you,” but caught himself just in time.

Sebastian raised a brow, clearly catching the implication. “Oh, of course.”

There was another beat, their shared silence now less awkward. Then Alex said it—before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

“Why’d you help me with my truck?”

Sebastian’s eyes snapped back to him, a little wide. He looked away just as fast. “I don’t know... 'cause I wanted to, I guess?”

It wasn’t much of an answer, but something about the way he said it—the quiet honesty of it—sat differently in Alex’s chest.

Alex nodded slowly. “Well... you really saved my ass back there. I never got to thank you.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You said thank you like a million times.”

“I know, I know. But properly thank you. How about this; you get one free Alex coupon. Anytime. Anywhere. I have to do a favor for you, no questions asked.”

Sebastian stared at him, a little stunned. There was that damn grin again, sunny, earnest, too much. A flush crept up his ears and he looked away quickly. “That’s—you’re... so stupid.”

Alex laughed. “I can think of something else if you don’t want it—”

“No—no!” Sebastian snapped, “I’ll take it. You already offered. No take-backs.”

Alex squinted at him. “I feel like I might regret this.”

“Oh, you totally will,” Sebastian said, turning back toward the road. “Later, Golden Boy.”

Alex flushed at the nickname, watching him walk away, heart pounding louder than he’d like to admit.

Golden Boy. God help him.

🌸 Spring 24  - Year 1 🌸

The air carried the faint scent of rose and daisies through the air as Alex walked down the cobble paved street, Haley at his side. He adjusted the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, the sun glinting off the yellow flower crown she’d made for him that morning. 

Despite his protests—sheer pleas—to stay home and not have to participate in another corny flower dance, Haley had dragged him out without much hassle. All it took were her signature puppy dogs, and her saying; “So you want me to dance alone?” to get him to sway. 

Like usual, she got what she wanted. 

“And did you see the lace trim on Emily’s dress? A certain farmer’s going to lose their mind when they see her,” Haley chattered, swinging her basket of rose petals in rhythm with her step. “They better ask her to dance—or I’ll just do it myself to cause drama.” 

Alex huffed a small laugh. “Pretty sure they will. Saw them dropping off Emily’s favourite stones the other day.”

“I know!” Haley squealed, a grin wiped across her face. “And she placed them right on the mantle! I’m so glad there’s finally someone here who can match her freak.” 

Alex chuckled again, smiling softly as she continued to prattle on. Haley’s excitement was infectious, and even though he didn’t quite care about the dress details or Emily’s love life, it felt nice to be around someone who buzzed with that kind of joy.

When they arrived at the clearing, a few villagers were still fussing over decorations and setting up. A handful of kids ran barefoot through the flowery grass, trailing ribbon behind them like streamers. Barrels and crates full of flowers still stood by the entrance, just begging to be moved into their proper spots. 

Mayor Lewis stood in the middle of it all, red in the face and waving a clipboard like a sword. 

Alex gave Haley a nod, “I should go help out.”

“Oh, don’t let him rope you into everything,” she warned with a smirk.

“Too late,” he muttered with a grin and jogged over. 

It didn’t take long for him to roll up his sleeves and start lifting the wooden barrels off the ground, and helping Robin hammer in the wooden fence posts while Lewis barked about symmetry and spacing. He worked steadily, sweat dotted the back of his neck. By the time everything was done, people had started arriving in proper clusters. 

The moment he was free, Alex retreated to the shade of an old oak at the edge of the field, flopping down on the grass with a satisfied sigh. He couldn’t spot Haley—surely off playing matchmaker. He leaned back on his palms and watched the clusters of villagers laughing and mingling. He then spotted the trio—Emily laughing brightly at something the farmer said, and Haley nodding along. He spotted Penny straightening Vincent’s flower crown, and Gus passing around lemonade. 

It was rare to feel so content without doing anything. He liked the peace. 

“Hey.”

Alex startled slightly at the voice turned his head up. 

Sebastian stood over him, a silhouette framed by the sunlight, hands in his pockets. He looked… relaxed. Maybe even a little amused. 

“Nice flower crown.”

“If you like it so much, I’m sure Haley can make you one,” Alex grinned, scooting slightly to make room. 

“Nah, I’m good. Not really my style,” Sebastian sat down beside him without asking, legs stretched out, a soft grunt escaping him as he settled into the grass. “But it suits you.” 

Alex breathed out through his nose, a small laugh. He scanned Sebastian, wearing black again, of course, though someone had clearly forced him into something slightly more festive—a silver pin shaped like a lily fastened to his jacket. 

Alex’s heart picked up. He kept his eyes ahead, but the space between them felt very small. Their shoulders weren’t touching, but he could feel Sebastian’s presence as a physical thing. 

He cleared his throat. “Sam and Abigail not here yet?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Dunno.”

Alex glanced at him with a grin, “I’m surprised you actually came. You know you can’t avoid dancing, right?” 

Sebastian let out a groan, rolling his head back until it thudded softly against the bark. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He paused, then gave Alex a sideways glance, lips quirking into a smirk. “Like I said, though…. I wanna watch you fail.”

Alex flushed lightly and laughed, looking away at nothing. “You’re so cruel.” 

They sat like that for a moment—quiet and easy, like it had been when they were kids. Then, without meaning to, Alex shifted his leg just slightly to the side. His knee brushed Sebastian’s. He tensed, but Sebastian didn’t move. He didn’t even seem bothered. His knee stayed there, warm against Alex’s. 

It was nothing. A stupid knee tap. That was normal. Guys sat like this all the time, right? 

Why did his chest feel so tight? 

He stared straight ahead, jaw tight, trying to focus on literally anything else—the music warming up, the villagers shuffling toward tables, the way the garlands swayed in the breeze. 

But his brain wouldn’t shut up. 

It’s just because of the past , he lectured himself. You’re nervous because he’s Sebastian —because you bullied him, because you said things you shouldn’t have, because it’s awkward, not because —

Sebastian shifted slightly, but his leg stayed right there, still brushing Alex’s. Alex swallowed hard, trying to pretend it didn’t make his skin feel hot. Trying not to think about the way Sebastian’s voice sounded when he teased him. Trying not to think about how casually he’d sat down beside him like it was no big deal. 

It wasn’t a big deal. 

He was just… nervous. 

That’s all. Nervous. About the dance. 

Obviously. 

“There you are. ”

Alex looked up just as Haley reached tem, one hand on her hip, her flower crown tilted slightly from her brisk walk. Her eyes flicked between him and Sebastian with faux exasperation. 

“Sebastian,” she said, dramatically, “stop hogging my dance partner. Get your own.”

Alex gave a small, embarrassed laugh, “We weren’t—”

“Mm-hmm.” Haley raised a brow, then extended her hand toward him. “C’mon, the dance is about to start, and I refuse to have the opening beat ruined by your clumsy footwork.”

Alex pouted, feigned woundedness, “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Sebastian leaned back against the tree, stretching out his legs as he looked up at Alex with a faint smirk. “See you on the dance floor, Golden Boy .” 

The nickname hit him like a splash of cold water. His whole body went warm. 

Alex blinked, flustered, “Yeah… see you.” 

He let Haley pull him away, her fingers laced easily through his as she dragged him toward the main dance area. People were already lining up, the pairs forming neat rows across the field. Light music drifted from the speakers, the kind of cheerful, floaty tune that usually annoyed him. 

“You okay?” Haley asked, glancing at him as they took their spots.

“Yeah. Just… thinking,” he said, forcing a smile.

She smirked knowingly. “You better not step on my toes again like last year. I swear, I had bruises for a week.”

“I’ve improved,” he insisted, rolling his shoulders. “You’re looking at a certified dance floor professional now.”

“Oh really?”

The music picked up, and they shifted into the familiar rhythm. Step, turn, spin. Step, turn, spin. Alex moved automatically, muscle memory from past years guiding him. Haley beamed beside him, eyes shining as her skirt flared with each twirl.

But Alex’s gaze drifted.

He spotted Sebastian across the clearing, paired with Abigail, who was in a pale purple dress and doing most of the work to keep Sebastian moving in time. Sebastian wasn’t half as graceful as her, but he wasn’t terrible either—he moved with an almost lazy kind of rhythm, like he couldn’t be bothered to put real effort in, but still managed to keep up.

And then, he caught Alex’s eye.

Just for a second.

Sebastian didn’t smile. He didn’t smirk. He just looked at him—steady, unreadable, except for the glint of something beneath it all. Like he was seeing right through him.

Alex quickly looked away, heart thudding.

His steps faltered for just a beat.

“Hey,” Haley whispered, poking his ribs with her elbow. “Focus, partner.”

“Sorry,” he muttered.

He forced his attention back on the dance, on the steps, on Haley’s bright grin and the sea of petals swirling around them. But it was hard not to glance back.

As the song shifted, the rhythm picked up, and the laughter grew a little louder. Alex was finally in sync with Haley—mostly. He’d stopped thinking about the steps, and let himself get lost in the rhythm, if only for a moment. He tried down to push down his rising thoughts about Sebastian, about the heat that lingered from the brush of their knees, how his nickname echoed in his head. 

He was thinking too much. 

Which was exactly when Haley caught him mid-glance, her sharp eyes following the invisible thread between him and Sebastian. 

A wicked, knowing grin spread across her face. 

She twirled in place, her skirt moving with flare, and leaned in close enough for Alex to hear over the music, “ This should make him jealous—” 

“Wait, what—!?” Alex blinked, confused, but Haley was already in motion. 

With the flair only she could pull off, she spun into him dramatically, arms wrapped around his shoulders, laughter spilling from her lips as she pulled him closer than any flower dance really required. Alex stiffened instinctively, blinking as Haley pressed her cheek briefly to his and whispered in a hushed, mischievous voice: 

“Look at Sebastian’s face.” 

His stomach flipped. He didn’t want to—but he did. He glanced toward the edge of the dance floor, and there he was. Sebastian, mid-step, his expression sharp. His brow had furrowed, his mouth tight. His eyes were locked on Alex and Haley, unblinking. 

Alex sensed a tinge of jealousy, even he wasn’t that oblivious. 

And when Sebastian finally noticed Alex looking back, their eyes locked for a second—just one breathless moment—then he looked away sharply. 

Alex’s pulse jumped in his throat. Surely a look of pure disgust, He thought. 

Haley leaned back with a triumphant little hum, grinning as she continued dancing like nothing happened. 

Alex didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what he was feeling. His heart was pounding again, like it had been the second Sebastian said “Hey.” 

Soon, the music dissipated, and the Flower Dance ended like it always did—too slow for how fast the music had bee. The air was thick with pollen and perfume, as well as something more electric beneath the surface. 

A round of applause for the dancers followed, but it was all drowned out by an anxious ringing in Alex’s ears. His heart pounded, but not in the way it had before—more frantic, more paranoid. 

Why would Haley do that!? 

He felt so embarrassed, everyone had been looking at him—but not like he made some big game-winning touchdown—like he had just shown off at a Flower Dance party made for children. 

His cheeks dusted pink as the dancers separated, Haley still beaming at his side. He didn’t say a word, his gaze fixated on something, anything in the distance. 

But he could feel Sebastian eyeing him, before walking over. 

There was a short silence, before Alex offered Sebastian a quick, awkward smile as the crowd dispersed. “Guess I didn’t fall on my face, told you I was a good dancer.” 

Sebastian raised a brow, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Shame. I was really counting on a good laugh.” 

It was teasing, but distant. Even more distant than before. Alex couldn’t tell anymore. He hated this. 

They stood in awkward silence for a beat, before Sebastian stuffed his hands into his pockets and muttered, “See you around, Golden Boy.” 

Same nickname, but it lacked… something.

And then turned and walked off with Abigail and Sam before Alex could say anything back. There was more that needed to be said, but the words just didn’t quite come out. 

Alex stared after him a second too long. 

The rest of the event went by in a hazy blur, Alex’s mind still reeling from what happened, what Haley did and Sebastian’s reaction. He had no clue what Sebastian was thinking, and that made him all the more nervous. 

“Okay,” Haley said, sing-song, looping her arm through his like nothing was wrong. “Now that was a dance. You actually kept up! Color me impressed.”

Alex smiled tightly, letting her pull him along the forest path back toward town. The sun hung low in the sky, clear except for a few sparse clouds. They walked in companionable quiet for a bit, fireflies starting to blink along the trail. It should’ve been peaceful, but Alex’s chest was too tight.

Haley broke the silence first, nudging his arm. “Soo…” she drawled out, “you and Sebastian were getting awfully cozy under that tree.” 

Alex stiffened. “What?” 

She grinned, “Don’t ‘what’ me. I saw the way you two were talking. The way you kept looking at him during the dance. Honestly, I’m kind of proud of you. That little jealous act? Totally worked—”

Alex stopped in his tracks, yanking his arm out of hers. “Why would you do that?” 

Haley blinked, caught off guard. “Do what?” 

“That,” he snapped. “Put on that little show. You said to make him jealous. Why would I want that? Why would I want him to be jealous?”

Haley’s teasing grin faltered, “Alex, come on—”

“I think he hates me more now than he did before,” he muttered, eyes cast down at the dirt path. “He probably sees me as some showboating douche.”  

She crossed her arms, clearly annoyed. “Are you serious right now? You think that look he gave you was hatred? Alex, come on, even you can’t be that dense.”

“You didn’t see it the way I did—”

“I did, actually.” Her voice sharpened. “I saw it clearer than you did, apparently. That wasn’t a look of disgust. He’s into you, or at least trying to be friends again.” 

Alex flushed, jaw tightening. “He’s— He’s not into me, Haley. And if he was, ” his voice rose, “It wouldn’t matter, because I’m not—” Alex stopped walking again, his throat closed up. 

Haley’s expression softened, just a little. “Alex…”

“I’m not like that,” He said, quietly. Harshly. 

She didn’t say a thing, she didn’t have time too. 

“I don’t like him like that,” he said, too fast, too loud, glaring up at her. “I just want him and I to be on good terms— not even friends — just someone he doesn’t see as a total asshat! And you ruined any chance of that!” 

Haley reeled back like he’d slapped her. “I did not! You’re the one lying to yourself!” 

“I didn’t ask for your input!” he snapped. “Or your help! I don’t need you playing matchmaker for me. Go bother Emily and the Farmer with that crap.” 

They’d reach her front porch. Haley’s face hardened as she stepped up to her door. 

“You know what, Alex? Fine.” He voice was tight. “I’ll leave it alone. But don’t come crying to me when you can’t figure out your stupid feelings.” 

She shoved opened the door and disappeared inside, slamming it shut behind her. Alex stood there, fists clenched, his breath shallow and fast. He felt stupid and angry and like he wanted to tear his own skin off. 

She was wrong. She had to be wrong. 

Sebastian would never look at him like that. And even if he did…

It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like Alex had ever wanted a guy to look at him like that. That wasn’t who he was. That wasn’t how he was raised. That wasn’t—

He exhaled hard and turned back toward home, his heart pounding loud enough to drown out everything else. 

He just wanted to be on good terms… perfect world? Friends. That was all this was.

Notes:

alex........ my sweet summer child....... ur so stupid :')

anyways hello hi sorry it took so long to update i went on vacaaation! twas fun but i missed my lil guys so i've been writing a lot hehe. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and look forward to more in the future <3

Chapter 5

The morning started off like any other—with the crushing weight of reality collapsing in on him.

And pancakes!

This was the first day Alex had off since the Flower Dance, the first day fully to himself where he could relax and smell the roses. That is, if he wasn’t as tense as a clothing line with fresh linen. Speaking of—he had to make sure to bring in the laundry.

His day started off casual. He had woken up before Evelyn and George—as his internal clock was now fine-tuned to rise before the sun—so he decided to make them breakfast. Everyone knew how to make pancakes, but not everyone had access to Evelyn’s detailed and precise cookbook. He read straight from it, and sure, the words and numbers jumbled into an illegible mess—he still tried his best, and that’s what counts, right?

He stood over the stove, apron tied tight and hair slicked back, eyes focused on the precise motion of flipping the cake. The first two he made were… well, burnt on the outside, raw on the inside, but by the third go-around, he was getting the hang of it. In the oven, he also had crispy maple bacon—one of George’s favorite breakfast foods.

“Hey, look at you, kid,” George was the first to roll out of his room, still in his pajamas as he rolled past the kitchen. “Finally becoming a real man and cookin’ for the family, huh?” he laughed.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Ha. Ha. We’ll see who’s laughing when I give all this delicious maple bacon to Dusty. He’d appreciate it more than you.” He shot back with a grin.

George gasped in return. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Dusty barked once.

“Now, now,” Evelyn cut in, adjusting her usual attire as she slowly sauntered out. “No fighting before breakfast—that’s the rule, remember?”

“Yes ma’am,” the men said in unison.

“Good. You two can fight all you want after we try Alex’s cooking,” she chuckled.

Alex huffed out a laugh and continued to slave away in the kitchen.

Pancakes and bacon weren’t all—he had also grabbed some fresh fruit from the farmer and made Evelyn a light but filling fruit salad to go along with her breakfast.

It wasn’t long before everything was ready. Alex set the table with each of the servings, maple syrup and juice for the table. It felt nice to provide. He hadn’t realized how rewarding “wifely duties” (as George ever so eloquently put it) were.

“Sweetheart, this is amazing,” Evelyn beamed.

“Yeah, kid, smells good,” George nodded in agreement.

The three got to eating, idle chatter falling among them as they dug in. Alex had graciously given himself the two messed-up pancakes and the crispiest pieces of bacon—Evelyn and George couldn’t chew it anyway. He even made sure to break off a piece of bacon for Dusty, chucking it under the table before his grandparents could notice.

As Alex dug in, he was quite satisfied with himself—all things considered. But it couldn’t compare to the Complete Breakfast the farmer had made for him a couple of weeks back. Even just thinking about it made his mouth water. How they got it so perfect, he’d never know. Some secrets were better left untouched, he thought.

And despite the familial, warm joy that filled his chest, he couldn’t stop his mind from thinking. At any moment, this could all be ripped away from him. Rent bills were increasing, Pierre always charged insane amounts just for simple groceries, and then there were the hospital bills.

Evelyn’s next appointment in Zuzu City was next week, and the cost loomed over Alex like the scoreboard of a gridball countdown.

She had her first over-the-phone appointment with the doctor a couple of days ago, and of course—Alex couldn’t help but listen in. He knew it was an invasion of privacy, but… he couldn’t help himself.

He was glad Evelyn was beginning to feel better thanks to the medication—which was also a hefty price—but he worried just how long he could keep this up on a shipment salary alone.

He sighed and shook his head, bringing himself back to his burnt, fluffy pancakes.

That’s a problem for later.

After breakfast, Alex took his time clearing the table, rinsing the dishes and stacking them neatly in the drying rack. He scrubbed the frying pan with determination, hoping it could somehow scrub away his stress too. The smell of syrup and bacon still lingered in the air, warm and sticky like a memory he didn’t want to lose just yet. 

Evelyn offered to help, but he waved her off with a smile. “Go relax, I’ve got this.” 

She patted his arm and gave him a soft, knowing look—the kind that made him feel seen. 

Once the kitchen was clean, and Dusty was curled up beside George, licking the syrup off his paws, Alex headed to his room to get changed. He threw on his joggers, a loose tank, and tied his shoes. His earbuds were tangled beyond belief, but after some grumbling and wrestling, he got them in. 

He clipped his phone to his waistband, double-checked the front door lock, and stepped outside into the morning sun. 

Finally, he had a chance to run—clear his head. He had been so busy the past month he neglected one of the things he loved. Running was an escape, one he desperately needed. 

Today was his official first day of summer, despite it coming 2 days late. 

Mid-morning summers in Pelican Town were always the best—even if Alex had a huge bias. How could you not like summer? The grass was a vibrant yellowish-green that spread across the whole valley, butterflies flew in the air without a care in the world, and if he listened close, he could hear a bee buzzing by.

He decided to take his usual route: down to the beach, past Blue Moon Vineyard, through Cindersap Forest, and over the Farmer’s land. They were never really home anyway—not during the day. The farmer was always off doing… something. Mining, fishing, fighting monsters. Classic Wednesday stuff.

His sneakers thudded against the old cobblestone path as he passed by the saloon, and  made his way toward the shore. They salty breeze from the ocean hit him, cool and light, brushing the sweat from his face like a gentle pat. He breathe it in. For a moment, it felt like maybe he could shake it off—everything. The pressure, fear. The goddamn rent. 

His thoughts began to race, like they always did, and circled back around. Evelyn’s hospital bills, both their medicines, groceries, rent. The bacon he cooked that morning alone costed more than he wanted to admit. He tried not to let it swallow the moment, tried to focus on the warmth of the sun, the sound of the waves, the crunch of sand underfoot. But… anxiety clung to his ribs like a weight vest he hadn’t signed up to wear. 

He missed when life wasn’t so complicated. 

As he ran past Bluemoon Vineyard, he gave a small wave to Sophia, who was tending to her fields, wide sunhat obscuring half her face. She gave him a polite nod, then returned to inspecting a vine. 

He jogged onward into the edge of Cindersap Forest, where the shade grew cooler and the sounds of summer insects grew louder. The trees here had that deep, evergreen smell, earthy and alive. Bird jumped from branch to branch above him, wings flashing in the sunlight. It was beautiful. He knew that. He just… couldn’t feel it all the way. Like there was glass between him and everything else.

“You’re fine,” he muttered under his breath as he slowed his pace, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You’re fine. You’re just thinking too much.”

Back in high school, the problem was never thinking enough. Fate had a funny way of being cruel. 

He picked up speed again, exiting the forest and crossing onto the farmer’s land. The ground here was neatly tilled and vibrant with life. Crops stretched out in perfect little rows—tomatoes, corn, blueberries, melons, sunflowers. It was wild how fast they’d gotten everything planted. How organized it all was. Alex caught sight of something strange off to the side—round, leafy, purple.

He skidded to a near stop.

“Is that… red cabbage?” he blinked, jogging in place. “Huh. Thought you couldn’t even get that ‘til later.”

It was rare, he remembered. One of those super specific ingredients Evelyn once mentioned needing for a stew. He hadn't seen it once last summer, not even on Pierre’s overpriced shelves.

He continued on, heart pounding—not just from the jog, but from the ever-growing list of thoughts crowding his head. If the farmer could manage a full crop cycle, an active mine schedule, and still somehow be the most generous person in the valley… what was he doing wrong? 

He exhaled sharply through his nose and powered forward, pushing past the last of the farmland and onto the old path by the bus stop.  

Almost home.

The sun was high now, bearing down on his shoulders like a spotlight. He could already feel the back of his tank top sticking to his skin, but he didn’t slow down. He continued into town, smiling at the townsfolk he passed.

They all looked at him the same way—like all he cared about was his muscles.

He was grateful for Haley in that regard.

Since the Flower Dance, the two had reconciled—though an awkward, unspoken tension rested between them.

He knew right after the dance that he was in the wrong. Like he always was. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut and graciously thanked her for trying to help. He was always ungrateful. That’s what his—

So on the first day of summer, after his shipments, he bought her a huge bouquet of sunflowers. Pierre charged an arm and a leg for them—nearly drained Alex’s entire payout for the day—but he told himself it was worth it.

He brought them over that afternoon, with Dusty as backup. Haley could never stay mad at a face like his.

When she saw the bouquet, she tried not to beam, eyes wide as she looked between Alex and the flowers.

“I’m sorry,” he said, shifting on his feet, a little embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I was just… overwhelmed.”

Haley stared at him for a second too long before taking the flowers from his hands. “I know,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved. I know you’re… touchy about this sort of stuff.”

There was a pause. Alex thought that was the end of it. But then—

“I pushed too hard,” she added, “but… I don’t like watching you lie to yourself.”

“I’m not lying,” he said too quickly.

Silence fell between them like a curtain. Dusty whined softly, wagging his tail.

After a moment, Haley glanced back up at him. “Are you still mad?”

Alex shook his head. He looked down at the bouquet still in her arms, then back up at her. “Not mad. Just… confused.”

That made her laugh, light and effortless, easing the weight in his chest.

“When are you ever not confused?” she teased.

“Yeah, that’s true,” he said, huffing out a laugh of his own.

She gave his arm a small pat. “Well, when you’re ready to be un-confused, I’m here.”

He smiled at the memory, a bit of tension easing from his chest. If he knew anything, he knew Haley would always be in his corner—no matter how many times he embarrassed himself.

He continued to jog through town, heading to his final destination—Pierre’s. He needed to grab a few groceries for Evelyn, and he knew she’d be disappointed if he resorted to shopping at JojaMart. She had very strong feelings about that corporation—ones she made very vocal.

As he slowed to a walk near the front steps, something caught his eye. A new flyer was pinned to the bulletin board, its crisp corners flapping slightly in the breeze. He rarely gave the board a second glance, usually it was filled with “help wanted” notes for someone’s lost eggs or missing socks or some nonsense he didn’t have time for.

But with the dwindling weight of gold in his pocket? Colour him intrigued.

The flyer was from Marlon, the weird guy who ran the Adventurer’s guild up near the mountains. “Help needed: retrieve 20 copper ore and 10 geodes from level 30 or below. Decent pay. Talk to Marlon for details.” 

Alex stared at the paper. 

Floor 30. How far down was that? Surely, half way. He could probably handle that. The farmer went down there all t he time, and they didn’t even lift. 

“If the farmer can do it,” he muttered to himself, “I definitely can. I’ve got muscles. How hard can it be?” 

With a decisive tug, he ripped the flyer off the board and shoved it in his pocket. Feeling a little more hopeful than five minutes ago, he reached for the door to Pierre’s—

—and it didn’t budge. 

He blinked, groaned, and threw his head back dramatically as the CLOSED WEDNESDAY sign mocking him through the glass. 

“Of course,” he muttered. Without another word, he turned on his heel and broke back into a jog, heading toward home—fighting the urge to kick a rock on the way. 

The rest of the day passed in quiet pieces. 

Alex spent most of it in his room, trying to stay distracted. He cleaned his weights, did a few reps, wiped sweat from his brow, and then did a few more. Mostly, he was t rying to hype himself up—like he used to before a big game. Only thins time, there were no crowds, no uniform, no coach barking plays from t he sidelines. Just him, and the mines. 

He told himself it’d be easy. In and out. A few rocks, maybe a couple of those weird slime things the farmer joked about. He could handle it. He has handled much worse. 

Still, the thought twisted in his stomach like a knot being pulled tight. 

He didn’t tell Evelyn or George. They didn’t need to worry. Instead, he made sure to have dinner with them—chicken and roasted potatoes, nothing fancy, just enough to keep up appearances. 

“I might go for a run after this,” he said between bites, casual as ever. “Cool down before bed.”

Evelyn nodded approvingly. “That’s a good habit to keep up.”

George didn’t even look up from his plate. “Don’t stay out too late. Bears or ghosts or somethin’.”

“Noted.” Alex grinned.

By the time the dishes were washed and Dusty fed, the sun had dipped behind the mountains, casting long shadows across the valley. Street lamps blinked on one by one.

Alex laced up his running shoes, heart steady, breath calm—but his palms were sweaty. 

The streets of Pelican Town were quiet at night. Peaceful, sure, but not in the way that settled his nerves. A kind of quiet that made you too aware of his footsteps, the way gravel crunched beneath his feet. The summer breeze had cooled into a gentle wind, rustling trees and giving the impression of something, or someone, was moving just out of sight. 

He exhausted slowly through his nose, trying to keep his pulse steady. There was no real reason for him to be nervous. He was strong. Hell—he’d even been in a couple of fights (not that he was proud of them). He could handle himself. And this was nothing, right? Just rocks… and maybe some bats. 

Still, that uneasy weight in his gut hadn’t lifted since dinner. 

As he walked past Robin’s, he caught himself looking at the dark windows. The whole house was quiet—Demetrius probably long since turned in, and no Sebastian sitting  out on the porch smoking. Not that he would’ve said anything if he had been there. Still, Alex’s chest gave a quiet pang. 

They hadn’t really talked since the Flower Dance. Not properly—at least. Little nods here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary. A part of Alex knew why. Sebastian probably saw him as a self-centered douche at this point. Which… maybe wasn’t far off the mark, all things considered. He had been selfish. Wanting to be friends with Sebastian again, thinking there was a glimmer of hope… after everything they’ve been through. 

Completely—utterly, selfish. 

He forced himself to look away and shake it off. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. He had a job to do. 

The closer he got to the mountainside, the more that low, creeping feeling returned. The woods here were thicker, the shadows longer. The mine entrance came into view, and with it—Marlon. The older man stood leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed, his good eye catching the glint of moonlight. 

“I figured you’d be the one to take the job,” Marlon said, lifting his chin in greeting. “The price is a little below the farmer’s pay grade.” 

Alex huffed a laugh, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “You take what you can get.” 

Marlon nodded once, then pushed off the wall and dug into the canvas bag at his feet. “I’ve got some extra tools for you. Going down ain’t exactly a walk in the valley.” He pulled out a pickaxe and a sword, both looking worse for ware—chipped metal, worn grips, but still solid. 

“This is all I could find on short notice. Do well this time and I’ll upgrade them—on me.”

Alex took them, holding the sword a little awkwardly, testing the weight in his hand. It was lighter than he expected. “Thanks.”

Marlon stepped back and gestured toward the elevator embedded in the rock wall. “The farmer’s cleared all the way down to floor eighty. There’s an elevator that stops every five. You’ll take it to thirty. After that, you’re on your own. Gotta find the next ladder yourself if you want to make it to thirty-five.”

Alex gave a small shrug, adjusting the strap on his backpack. “Should be easy enough. I mean, if the farmer’s already made it to floor eighty, how bad could thirty be?”

Marlon scoffed, folding his arms again. “The farmer’s not like anyone I’ve ever seen. They’re a beast in there. Floor thirty’s no cakewalk—even they struggled with that one. Especially the first time.” He gave Alex a pointed look. “Keep your eyes peeled. Watch your back.”

A flicker of jealousy sparked in Alex’s chest. The farmer again. Everyone talked about how capable they were. Like they were made of something different. But Alex knew he was strong, too. He had to be.

“I can do it,” he said, more to himself than Marlon. Then, louder: “Don’t worry. I’m strong. I’ll be back with your twenty copper ore and ten geodes before you know it.”

He offered a lopsided smile, and without waiting for a reply, turned toward the elevator doors. They creaked open with a low groan, stale air curling out from the shaft.

“Good luck, kid,” Marlon called after him. “And be careful.”

Alex stepped inside and hit the button marked 30 . The doors rattled shut. As the elevator began its slow, grumbling, decent, he exhaled and rolled his shoulders back. 

Just rocks and bats… he could handle it. 

As the doors creaked open, the chains whining with agony, a metallic groan that echoed into the silence ahead like something dying. The pit in Alex’s stomach twisted tighter. The air hit him immediately—thick with damp earth, moldy stone, and something that smelled faintly of decay. It settled in his nose, unwelcome and heavy. Somewhere in the distance, a single drip from a stalactite echoed through the cavern, like a ticking clock. 

He stepped out. The doors snapped shut behind him with a violent clank. Alex flinched.

The lantern beside the elevator flickered faintly, the only light source on the entire floor. Everything beyond it was a shadowy blur. Gravel crunched under his boots as he stepped forward, one cautious foot after another. He scanned the dark for any sign of movement, muscles tensed and ready.

Only once he was sure nothing was waiting to jump him did he get to work.

At first, it wasn’t bad. He broke apart regular rocks, recalling something vague from sixth-grade science about cementation and sediment. The stones were dense but breakable—three solid swings from the pickaxe and they’d split, sometimes revealing coal, and occasionally, a geode. Every time one clattered free, he scooped it up and shoved it into his bag. The weight was starting to build, but so was his confidence. 

Copper was trickier. Regular rocks barely had any. But once he started spotting the glittering orange veins, he struck gold—or, well, copper. The veins broke apart easily and yielded a decent amount of ore. His confidence swelled with each swing. 

The cavern wasn’t completely clear, as Marlon warned him. A few slimes and annoying bats would poke their heads out and surprise him. The first one earned a startled yelp, but after that, it was simple. A couple of hearty swings and they were toast. This wasn’t so bad. Honestly, it was kind of fun. 

It wasn’t long until the 30th floor was cleared out of any useful ore, and he found the ladder to carry onwards. 

He cleared out floor 30 with little trouble and quickly found the ladder down.

Floors 31 to 34 followed the same pattern—easy enemies, plenty of ore, and a growing collection of shiny trinkets. He tucked away amethysts, emeralds, and even a strange, glimmering Frozen Tear. His bag was stuffed to the brim by the time he reached floor 35.

“I should go mining more often,” he muttered, chuckling to himself as he scooped another handful of copper into his bag. His arms were starting to feel the weight, his hoodie damp with sweat, but that didn’t matter. He was on a roll.

Just this last floor. He’d clear this one, and head back up. 

He made quick work of a few lingering bats and slimes, swatting them aside like flies. No real challenge. Honestly, Marlon had made this sound way worse than it really was. Alex was just about to turn back toward another copper vein when the lantern by the elevator gave a final sputter—and died. 

Darkness swallowed the cave. 

No big deal, right? 

He paused for a beat, saying nothing, his grip tightening slightly on the pickaxe. But then, he gave a quiet snort, “figures.” 

He continued mining. The copper gleamed faintly, catching residual light from deeper glowing ores—his only light source. He’d finish the vein, then go.

That’s when he heard it. A sound like two stones grinding together. Slow, heavy—deliberate. He stopped to listen, nothing… just his nerves. 

Then—

CRACK. 

Pain exploded through his back as something massive slammed into him from behind. He grunted and stumbled forward, the force of the blow knocking him face first into the rocky ground. The pickaxe skittered from his grip, lost somewhere in the dark. He wheezed as he flipped onto his back, blinking past the dust. 

A hulking stone golem towered over him, arm raised. 

Alex barely grabbed his sword in time. 

The impact reverberated through his entire body. The blade sparked as it met the golem’s stone arm—and cracked. Metal chipped off and scattered into the dark. Alex’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, hell—”

He scrambled to his feet, only to back straight into something solid. Another golem. 

“Fuck—” 

Its arm struck hard against his side, all the breath knocked from his lungs. He stumbled sideways, coughing. A sharp, burning pain, bloomed beneath his ribs. Something felt wrong— deeply wrong. Like something inside him had moved where it shouldn’t have. 

He bit down another curse and swung wildly at the first golem, blade clashing against stone. 

SNAP.

The sword shattered in two, and fell to the ground with a light clang. All that remained in his hand was the hilt. For a second, he just stared, dumbfounded. 

Then another golem appeared. And another. 

He didn’t think, he didn’t have time too. He just reacted—fist slamming into rock, trying to dodge, weave, push through the cluster of moving stone back towards the elevator. But his punches did nothing. He caught another blow to the side, then one to his stomach. His knees buckled, pain spiking through his limps. Blood seeped from a gash on his forearm, another his leg, and from his fist. HIs hoodie was in tatters. Pants shredded at the knee. 

Still, he stood. Chest heaving. Bruised. Bleeding. He’d been here before. 

He squared himself again, refusing to go down. He never went down so easily. 

But one of them—the largest yet—moved in fast. Its hand, jagged like a blade, sliced across his side.

He screamed. The sound bounced through the cavern walls, raw and real—filled with pain. His body hit the ground, hard, bones jarred by the rocky floor. His vision blurred. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. 

Everything slowed.  

His mind flickered—images like lighting across his vision: 

He was twelve again, kneeling at his mother’s bedside, her fingers feather-light against his cheek as she told him to be brave without her. The smell of hospital antiseptic. The brittle paper crinkling under her body. Her skin so pale, lifeless, but her voice so soft and sweet. He promised himself not to cry. He cried anyway. 

He was thirteen, on the living room floor, knees scraped, holding back tears as his dad stood over him—drunk, shouting, spittle flying. His fists bloody with rage. Evelyne rushing in, yelling, shielding Alex with her own body. The sound of George’s wheelchair screeching across tile. 

He was fourteen, locking himself in his room while the old man pounded on the door, screaming about wasted talent, wasted time, waste of air. Clutching a photo of his mom like it could somehow block out the noise. 

Then flashes—

Evelyn tucking a blanket over his shoulders the night after a storm. 

George wheezing a laugh at one of Alex’s terrible jokes. 

Holding Dusty as a puppy, crying into the soft fur, whispering secrets no one else knew. 

Getting ice cream with Haley on all his birthdays, a new, lifelong, tradition. 

Then—

Sebastian. 

He was seventeen, sitting across the campfire during the senior trip. They were alone. His dark hair falling over one eye, eyes on the lake as he nursed a cigarette the teachers had no clue about. 

“You don’t have to pretend, you know.” 

The way he said it like he saw right through him. 

The nights they’d spent not talking until the sun came up and Alex had to pretend it hadn’t meant anything. That Sebastian knew him in a way no one else would… or ever will. 

His throat tightened. 

He was eighteen, clutching a gridball under Friday night lights, surrounded by cheers, but feeling completely alone. 

Then he was here. Now. Broken and bleeding in a cave, surrounded by monsters made of stone. 

He saw it all. 

And then, beside his hand, he saw a rock. 

He grabbed it. 

With a desperate shout, he swung it as hard as he could at the closest golem’s head. The rock cracked, but so did the golem. It collapsed, the sound echoing through the cave.

Alex didn’t wait. He ran—limped—dragging his left leg, one hand pressed hard to his bleeding side, the other securing the bag on his back. Like hell he’d leave his prize behind. Blood left a trail behind him as the remaining golems gave chase. 

The elevator glowed faintly in the dark. A beacon of salvation. He slammed the button. 

Nothing. 

He hit it again. And again. 

“Come on, come on—!” he gasped, shaking from pain, panic. “Come on!” 

The lights blinked, the doors groaned open, and he dove inside, slamming into the back wall as the golems pounded on the steel doors behind him. Their fists thudded like war drums. 

He smashed the button for the first floor, breath catching in his throat. 

The doors shut just as a golem’s fist collided with them. The sound was thunderous. 

Alex slid down the elevator wall, blood from his side smearing red streaks on the metal. His vision was spinning. His limps were shaking. Every. Inch. of his body screamed. But he was alive—barely. 

The elevator doored opened with a cheerful ding. 

Alex barely registered it. 

Pushing himself upright, his muscles screamed in pain, trembling under his own weight. His hand slipped in the slick smear of his blood he’d left against the elevator wall, but he caught himself, staggering forward on unsteady legs. 

The cold night air hit him like a wall. 

“Gotta… make it to—” He could barely speak, stumbling out of the mines, boots dragging through gravel and moss. He needed to get home, in bed, before Evelyn and Geroge got suspicious. 

Each step jostled his side, hot pain radiating beneath his ribs like fire flicking through muscle and bone. His hoodie clung to him, damp and heavy, and every breath burned. Blood still dripped freely, though slowed, pattering against leaves, staining the dirt behind him. 

His vision was blurred at the edges, swimming with black spots. Shadows danced in the trees, and for a moment, he thought the golems had followed him, until he realized they were just branches shifting in the breeze. Or maybe he was hallucinating. Or dying. He really couldn’t tell. 

Twigs cracked beneath his boots as he moved deeper into the woods toward the river. The path felt never ending, tilting and turning. He was barely able to stay upright. He breaths came in short gasps—shallow. 

But he kept going. 

Some part of him, deep in his bones, knew he needed to get home before they woke up. He couldn’t worry them. 

He didn’t know how long he walked. Minutes? Probably less. The air smelled of pine and wet grass, and he passed a tree he vaguely recognized. 

Then, everything stopped.  

The world spun far too fast, his knees buckled, and he tumbled forward without a sound. Rocks bit into his skin. His palms scraped through mud. Blood soaked the ground beneath him. The ringing in his ears got louder—deafening. He could barely feel his body anymore. 

“Holy shit—!? Alex!?”

A voice, sharp and panicked. He couldn’t tell who it was. Couldn’t focus. He could only hear dirt crunch as the world continued to spin. He felt hands on him, flipping him carefully, holding his face. The ground was cold against his back. His limbs were too heavy to move. 

“Hey—shit, hey, stay with me.” 

A face above him, blurred. Dark hair? Wide eyes? Hands pressing against his side. Warmth? Or was it pressure? He couldn’t tell. 

He wanted to say something—anything. A joke. An apology. Something to explain why he was bleeding out by the river like an idiot. 

But he couldn’t speak. 

Everything went quiet. And then—nothing. 

☀️ Summer 4 - Year 1 ☀️

The sheets were unfamiliar. The air was too still. Something was wrong. This wasn’t his room. 

Alex jolted upright like a gunshot, lungs seizing in his chest. “Shit—!” the curse tor from him as a wave of pain radiated through his side, dragging him back to the present like being hit by a freight train. His stomach clenched. Everything ached. One fist curled into the sheets, teeth gritted as he fought against the surge of nausea and panic. His other hand clenched his sides, still expecting a wet—dripping—wound. Instead, all he found were bandages…and no shirt. 

His eyes quickly darted around. 

Where the hell was he?

The room was dim, cast in the pale grey of early dawn. A soft hum of a computer whirred in the corner, and there was the scent of old wood, cigarettes and coffee lingering in the air. A thick comforter was kicked halfway off him as he jostled. 

Then, a sudden noise—a chair scrapping against wood. 

“Hey—Whoa. Alex, calm down.” Sebastian’s voice. 

Alex whipped toward it, eyes wide, pulse thundering in his ears. Sebastian stood near the desk, hands up, expression tight with concern but trying to play it cool.  “You’re okay. You’re in my room now,” he said, voice low and steady. “You passed out near the river last night. Bleeding, bruised to hell—ring any bells?”

Alex blinked fast. He was sweating. The last thing he remembered was—

The mines. The elevator. The golems.

“I—fuck—” He tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed, but his whole body screamed in protest. “I need too—I have to go home—”

“You need to calm down,” Sebastian interrupted, stepping forward quickly. His hand didn’t hesitate to rest on Alex’s shoulder, lightly pushing him down so he couldn’t run anywhere. “Seriously. You’re safe. There’s no way I’m letting you leave like this—so don’t even try.” 

Alex flinched under the touch at first, but didn’t pull away. He was breathing fast, whole chest rising and falling like he’d just run a mile. 

“You’ve got some cracked ribs,” Sebastian added, gently. “At least one, maybe two. You’re lucky they didn’t puncture anything. You got bruising all over. I cleaned up that nasty wound on your side, but you might’ve torn something. If you keep moving like that, you’ll pass out again. You’re not invincible, Golden Boy. ”

The nickname, softly spoken, made Alex freeze. And with Sebastian’s hand still resting on his shoulder, it took everything in his power not to flash bright red in embarrassment.

He sucked in a shaky breath, then another. His shoulders finally slumped a little, and Sebastian smiled.

“Fine,” Alex muttered, eyes fixed anywhere but Sebastian’s.

Sebastian didn’t say anything right away. He just sank onto the edge of the bed beside him, quiet, letting the silence settle between.

Then: “Plus,” Sebastian added, voice a little lighter now, “you’ve got some questions to answer. And I’ve got some wounds to clean. You didn’t make it easy, y’know?”  

Alex raised a brow, skeptical. 

“I was only barely able to get your hoodie and shirt off to deal with that wound,” Sebastian continued, gesturing vaguely toward Alex’s side. “You thrash like crazy when you sleep. And you’re heavier than you look, by the way.” 

Alex groaned softly, ears turning pink. “God, you undressed me?” 

“I didn’t undress you, pervert,” Sebastian said flatly. “I treated your wounds. I’m not a creep, calm down.” 

Alex snorted despite himself. 

Sebastian went on, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. “You also bled all over my sheets and floor, so, congratulations—you owe me new bedding.” 

Alex let out a short laugh, still breathless but a little less tense. “Yeah… getting you new sheets is the least I can do. You saved my life.” 

He then looked at Sebastian, and smiled. Not cocky, nor forced. One of those bright, grateful grins he used only for Sebastian. It was real. Soft. 

Sebastian blinked once, then immediately looked away, ears turning pink. “It was nothing,” he said quickly, fiddling with a lose thread on his sleeve. “Don’t mention it. Any decent person would’ve done it.” 

Alex didn’t believe that for a second. But, he didn’t argue. 

Another silence fell between them—a kind of silence that was starting to feel strangely comfortable. Alex leaned back against the pillows, still dazed and aching, and Sebastian sat just a few inches away, quiet like he always was, but not cold. 

Sebastian shifted, his jaw tightening slightly before he turned back to Alex. 

“I should probably finish cleaning the rest of your wounds,” he muttered. “It’s not like you’ll do it.” He scoffed as he stood, clearly trying to play it off like nothing—-like he didn’t carry Alex, bleeding half to death, just a few hours ago. 

Alex didn’t say a word. Just watched him. There was something restrained in the way Sebastian moved, talked, like he was biting something back. Like there was something more under the surface that he wouldn’t let show. Alex knew better than to ask. He wasn’t in the mood to get verbally backhanded for digging too deep. 

Sebastian grabbed a small collection of supplies from his desk—bandages, rubbing alcohol, cotton pads—and returned to the bed. He sat down beside Alex again, close, too close. Their knees brushed, just like they had at the Flower dance. That small, accidental contact was enough to make Alex’s stomach flip. 

He couldn’t help but stare. In the faint grey of early morning, Sebastian’s eyes caught the light in a way that made them sparkle, cold and sharp, full of unspoken words. His hair was a little messy, one side sticking out just enough to look effortless. He had that look again—half bored, half focused, like the world was background noise and Alex was the one clear thing in it. 

Alex flushed. God. Get it together. 

“Alex,” Sebastian said, voice low. Alex didn’t register it. His heart was thrumming far too loud to hear a thing, like it had something to prove. “Alex.”

“Huh—?” Alex blinked, snapping out of it. 

“I said, stick out your arms.”

“Oh, right.” Alex did as he was told, arms sore and trembling as he extended them. 

Sebastian poured some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton pad, and without warning, pressed it into Alex’s wound. Alex winched immediately. “Oh come on,” Sebastian rolled his eyes lightly, “Don’t be a baby. You’ve been a gridball player for what, ten years? I know you’ve been through worse.” 

“Yeah, well, those guys didn’t have alcohol-soaked weapons,” Alex grumbled, unable to help the small laugh that slipped out after. Sebastian smirked. 

A moment passed between them in comfortable silence. Sebastian’s fingers were surprisingly gentle as he wrapped bandages around Alex’s forearm, focused and quiet, close enough that Alex could feel his breath when he leaned in. 

Then, out of nowhere: “So… why were you in the mines in the first place?”

Alex tensed slightly. The truth was ugly—rent, Evelyn’s hospital bills, empty cupboards—and he didn’t want to hand it over. He didn’t need anyone else pitying him. 

So he lied again. 

“I, uh… Like I said—I need money for the new Xbox. It’s more expensive than you think,” he said, forcing a casual tone. 

Sebastian stopped bandaging for a second. Just looked up at him. Right. That look. The one that made Alex feel like a five-year-old who just got caught stealing candy. 

“Are you serious?” Sebastian said flatly. 

“What?” Alex tried, weakly. 

Sebastian didn’t say anything, just huffed. He leaned in closer, eyes narrowing slightly, expression unreadable. 

Alex froze. His whole body lit up with panic—or maybe something else—because Sebastian was right there, the curve of his jaw inches from Alex’s face. He could count every little freckle on his skin. 

Sebastian smirked, just slightly. “Sounds like a lie to me,” he said, raising a hand and gently brushing along Alex’s cheek with a clean pad. 

Alex’s breath hitched. 

He didn’t—couldn’t—say a word. Just gave an awkward little chuckle and turned his head slightly, praying he didn’t combust right on the spot. He could barely breathe, and Sebastian was cleaning his face like it was no big deal, placing a small bandaid just below his cheekbone with absurd care. 

When Sebastian leaned back, the space between them felt cold in comparison. 

“I don’t know why you keep insisting on lying,” Sebastian muttered, voice just a little softer than usual. “You always lie to me… and you’re a terrible liar.” 

Alex swallowed hard, he couldn’t deny it. 

The silence that followed this time wasn’t like the last. It was heavier—tense, awkward and thick with all the things neither of them wanted to say. Alex shifted slightly under Sebastian’s gaze, suddenly too aware of how close they were, how vulnerable he already felt. 

Alex wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t keep up the charade forever, but being here—half-naked, bleeding, saved—that was already more exposure than he’d allowed anyone ever. 

It wasn’t as if he had practice with this sort of thing. The friends back in high school never spoke about personal stuff—none of them had any clue what Alex’s life was like. Nobody asked questions. Nobody wanted answers. And Haley… Haley usually dragged the truth out of him when she really needed to. He never had to give it willingly. 

But Sebastian wasn’t prying. He was just… waiting. Quiet and patient in a way that made Alex feel ten times worse for not saying anything. 

Finally, Alex broke the silence, voice low. “Sorry.”

Sebastian looked up, a little surprised by it. “For what?”

Alex’s eyes stayed lock on the floorboards. “I’m not good at telling people what’s actually going on with me. So I lie. Not just to you—to everyone. If that makes it any better.” 

There was a pause. Then Sebastian asked, softer than before, “Even to yourself?”

Alex’s jaw tensed. He didn’t answer at first, just looked away.

“…Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s easier that way.”

Sebastian didn’t respond right away. He just sat there, studying him. There was something careful about the way he did it, like he knew pressing too hard might break whatever fragile thing had just been handed over.

Eventually, he leaned back on his hands with a quiet sigh. “I get it,” he said. “Sometimes pretending is the only way to keep going. But…” He glanced at Alex with a wry little smile. “Just don’t run from it forever. You might get your ass kicked by a stone golem and end up regretting not saying things sooner.”

Alex huffed out a dry laugh, shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Yeah. Not exactly my proudest moment.”

Another beat passed.

“Thanks again for helping me,” Alex said quietly, “Honestly. I thought you’d never want to talk to me again.”

Sebastian tilted his head.

“I thought you’d see me as a douchebag after that little Flower Dance stunt.”

Suddenly, Sebastian laughed. Gentle and light, airy in the softest of ways. The type of laugh that always made Alex’s heart skip one too many steps. A laugh that brought Alex’s eyes from the floorboards onto Sebastian—he missed that smile too much to look away.

“Please,” Sebastian said once he recovered, “That stunt had Haley written all over it.”

Alex felt all the tension leave his chest. Haley was right. He had been overthinking. But if that wasn’t a look of disgust—then, was it—?

Maybe it hadn’t been anger or embarrassment on Sebastian’s face at all. Maybe it was jealousy.

Alex didn’t say it aloud. Didn’t even let it fully form in his head. But something about the way Sebastian looked at him, how he'd shown up in the first place—it sat there in the back of his mind like a lit fuse.

“You only show off when you’re scared someone might not like you,” Sebastian added, stopping Alex’s thoughts from swarming.

Alex paused, innocently asking: “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not always,” Sebastian spoke a bit quieter, ears red. 

The two sat with idle chatter as Sebastian got to tending the rest of Alex’s wounds. Alex tried his hardest not to flush when he had to roll his pant leg all the way up so Sebastian could dress the injury. He didn’t let his composure crack when Sebastian’s—surprisingly—soft hands grazed over his skin with surgical like precision. 

He had to wonder how Sebastian was so good at this—but he dared not pry. 

Soon, the sun poked it’s head over the horizon, with it coming the light song of birds chirping. By then, Sebastian had just finished addressing the final wound, and Alex was all patched up. He should feel better, shouldn’t he? 

He tried to stand, a loud, pained groan escaping his lips as he moved to his feet.

“Hey!” Sebastian snapped, “You still need to take it easy. Bandages doesn’t mean your body is healed yet. Honestly, you’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

But this time, Sebastian didn’t force him to sit back down. He knew Alex—he couldn’t sit still for more than a few hours without feeling anxious. Even as kids, Alex was bouncing off the walls as Sebastian silently, contently, watched. 

“It’s thanks to all this muscle,” Alex grinned, showboating his arms—only to nearly cry in pain afterwards. 

“Alright, dude, whatever you say,” Sebastian chuckled with a shrug, leaning back on the bed. “In all seriousness though, you should go see Doctor Harvey, just in case I missed something.”

“Can’t afford it,” Alex said too quickly, instinct firing before he could catch it—almost forgetting Sebastian didn’t know his whole situation. His gaze shifted to Sebastian, who only blinked in response.

“Because I’m saving for that Xbox, remember?” Alex added, a bit too fast, too forced.

Sebastian only rolled his eyes in response, watching as Alex slowly paced around the room. 

Alex blinked against the dim lighting in Sebastian’s room, only a bit of sun peeking in through the basement window. His gaze shifted across the room. It just hit Alex—he hadn’t been in Sebastian’s room in years. So much had changed. 

As he looked around in awe, something caught his eye—a small photo tucked into the corner of a cluttered corkboard. He hobbled toward the desk, leaned forward and squinted. It was them—well, them and the rest of their class. Grade Seven. That field trip to Zuzu City aquarium. 

He gently picked the photo up. “No way,” he breathed, a small  smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t believe you still have this picture.”

Sebastian looked over from where he was closing the first aid kid. His eyes widened for half a second, flush spreading across his pale cheeks, before he covered it with a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, well—not a lot of picture of me from when I was a kid.”

Alex laughed under his breath, hobbling back over to Sebastian. “Yeah, because someone was always too camera shy.” 

He plopped down next to Sebastian, this time he was a bit too close. 

“Keeping poking around where you don’t belong,” Sebastian said dryly, fighting the pink dust on his cheeks, “and I’ll kick you out, injured leg or not.” 

Alex snorted. “Please. I’d like to see you try.”

He leaned in just slightly with that cocky grin, elbow brushing Sebastian’s.

Sebastian leaned in too, unbothered—his voice lower, teasing. “Don’t tempt me, Golden Boy. ” He nudged Alex’s knee with his own.

Alex let out a small huff of a laugh, heart racing, half ready to jokingly shove back—and then—

The door swung open.

Robin.

Alex and Sebastian froze in place—on the bed, faces close, knees touching. Alex was still half-naked, bandaged up, flushed, caught mid-flirty-stare like a deer in headlights. 

“Oh!” Robin squeaked, eyes going wide. “Sorry!” 

She slammed the door shut so fast it rattled, followed by the sharp clack of her retreating footsteps up the stairs. 

Silence, nothing but a clicking clock to fill the void. 

Sebastian blinked. 

Alex looked like he might spontaneously combust. 

Shit. 

He was still shirtless. Still flushed. Still close enough to Sebastian that if he leaned in just a little further he—

Fuck! 

What the hell was he doing? What the hell was that? 

What would his father think? 

His whole body seized up with panic and shame, a sick twist in his gut. 

“I—I have to go—” he blurted, standing up way too fast. White-hot pain shot through his leg, his body, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t think. 

“Wait, Alex—” Sebastian sat up, startled. “It’s fine, you don’t have to—” 

“No, I—” Alex’s voice cracked. He grabbed his hoodie and shoes, avoiding eye contact like it burned. His mind reeled— What were you doing? Sitting there like that? Flirting? With Sebastian? What if Robin saw—-what if she tells someone—

“Granny and Gramps—They’ll be worried. I gotta go. Sorry.” 

His heart thundered as he hobbed to the door, every movement stiff and clumsy.

Sebastian’s voice followed, quieter now. “Alex—”

But Alex didn’t stop. Didn’t look back. 

He all but fled up t he stairs, pulling his hoodie over his head with trembling hands. He didn’t pause in the hallway, didn’t acknowledge Robin, didn’t breathe until the front door slammed behind him. 

Sebastian stood, stunned, for just a moment longer, still flushed, eyes fixed on the now-closed door. A sense of deja vu hit. 

“....Jesus.”

Notes:

ive made you guys wait long enough, finally at last, they share one cute / slightly intimate moment.
mb for not posting sooner 2 jobs and college really do that to u sometimes... its not like i dont have the chapters written im just forgetful LMAO

Chapter 6

Notes:

before i start this chapter i wanna thank yall for proof reading my work. just like my college essays i do not re-read what i write! so sometimes i fuck up words or forget important plot points (whoopsies) so please keep me in check. mwah. enjoy.

☀️ Summer 10 - Year 1 ☀️

The last few days have been nothing short of hell for Alex. 

Pretending everything was fine—like his ribs didn’t scream in agony every time he dared to breathe—was a performance worthy of an Oscar. And the shipments? God, the shipments. Every time he bent over to lift a crate, his vision blurred, and his body cried out in protest. This wasn’t work. It was torture.

Alex wasn’t religious by any means, but he was starting to think that if there was a god, they definitely had it out for him.

This morning was no different.

He’d been driving from farm to farm, picking up shipments that seemed to multiply by the day. And today, he wasn’t even alone—Evelyn and George were in the truck with him. The other delivery guy was out sick, so Alex had to cover the whole route. He figured he might as well kill two birds with one stone and bring Evelyn to her appointment on the way—save time, save gas.

But hiding his injuries doing day-to-day tasks like dishes or walking Dusty was one thing. Hiding them while hauling crates that weighed over sixty pounds? That was a whole new kind of hell. He was lucky he hadn’t passed out again.

At each stop, he made sure to tell Evelyn and George to stay in the truck. Said he’d “only be a minute.” In reality, it was just so he could wince in peace.

As he lifted up the crates at his last stop—the farmer’s—he was barely holding it together. His steps were wobbly has he picked up a crate filled with thirty melons and a shit-ton of hot peppers, tossing it into the back of the truck haphazardly. At this point, he couldn’t give less of a damn how the goods landed. As long as they were delivered, it was fine. 

He bent down to carry another crate, feeling a new surge of pain rush through his body like a tidal wave. He nearly collapsed under the pressure, but his shaking legs still held strong. Whatever was in here was massive, heavy, and a huge pain in the ass for Alex. 

He could almost hear Sebastian’s voice in his head, all sarcastic concern. But he shook it off. He didn’t need that right now.

He gritted his teeth, wrapped his arms around the crate—and that’s when he felt it.

Blood. Warm, trickling down his side.

Shit—

He’d been too busy (and, honestly, too scared) to change the bandages Sebastian had wrapped around him. Now they were soaked through and useless. He carefully lowered the crate and reached toward his ribs, his fingers coming away instantly coated in red.

Shit, shit—

“Alex?” 

Great, perfect timing. 

Alex quickly wiped his hand on his black sweatpants—praising his hindsight to wear dark clothes. He looked up, blurry and unfocused, but still able to make out the farmer’s figure. He blinked one time, the forced crooked smile.

“Oh, hey,” Alex said, sluggish. “G’mornin’” 

“Yeah…” The farmer trailed off, concern all over their face. They took a cautious step forward. “Are you doing okay?”

“Oh—yeah!” Alex said a bit too brightly. “Never better!”

“Right…” The farmer clearly didn’t believe a word of it. Their eyes dropped to the crate by his feet, then to his hand.

“Oh my god, Alex—!? Is that blood?” they blurted, taking another step forward, alarmed.

Panic spiked through Alex like lightning. His pride kicked into high gear. No way was Evelyn or George finding out. Not after how much he’d already hidden from them.

“What? No! Of course not,” he said—way too fast. He rubbed his hands again on his pants like it’d help. “It’s tomato juice. I’m sorry—when I was moving one of your crates, some tomatoes fell out, and when I picked them up, well, they stained my hand.”

He didn’t even stutter. He was getting way too good at this lying thing.

The farmer paused, then finally let out a long breath of relief. “Thank god. I thought you got seriously hurt or something.”

Alex laughed—nervously. “Nope, clearly right as rain, as you can see.” He reached for the crate, hoisting it up even though his body was absolutely screaming at him. “Anyways—bye!”

And with that, he rushed off with the crate toward the truck, trying to toss it in the back before the weight forced him to crumble on the spot.

He slammed the door shut with a heavy thud, practically melting into his seat with a long sigh. His chest heaved, one hand gently holding his side. For a moment, he forgot he wasn’t alone.

A small, frail hand landed on his shoulder, grounding him—bringing him back to reality.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Evelyn’s voice was sweet and caring, but honestly—Alex was tired of people asking if he was okay. If he wasn’t, he’d tell someone.

Still, he forced a crooked smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, breathless. “Just a bit tired from the haul today—a lot of heavy stuff.”

Evelyn parted her lips to speak, but George beat her to it. “He’s doing hard work, Evelyn. Of course he’d be tired—shows the grit of a responsible man. Good on ya’, kid.”

Alex just nodded, not having much energy left to respond at all. Once everyone was settled, he started driving, desperately trying to ignore the growing warmth of blood seeping through his bandages.

Aside from that, the drive was peaceful. The summer breeze flowed through the open windows, bringing in the scent of fresh dew and cut grass. The radio played softly in the background, little more than a low hum filling the silence. Idle chatter passed between the three—plus Dusty—but Alex mostly responded in grunts and hums.

All his energy was focused on one thing: driving without soaking his seat in blood.

When they finally made it to Zuzu City for the shipment drop-off, Alex climbed out of the truck with slow, careful movements, wincing with every step. He made it around to the back and opened the truck bed, preparing himself for another round of lifting hell.

Luckily, one of the other shipment guys happened to be nearby. The man took one look at Alex—pale, shaky, and clearly in pain—and wordlessly came over to help. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry. Just nodded once and started unloading.

Alex hated how much that meant to him.

He was uneasy about accepting help—especially when it came to stuff like this. He prided himself on being strong. Being capable. But in his condition, there wasn’t much he could say.

Together, the two of them got the job done. And once the last crate was offloaded, Alex made his way back to the truck—after giving the man a small ‘thank you’ nod—clenching his jaw as he slid into the driver’s seat.

Next stop: the hospital.

If only the drive there wasn’t so painfully long.

This was the first time traffic had ever been this bad. Bumper to bumper, with angry city drivers honking at every minor inconvenience. People were shouting, swearing curses Alex had never even heard before—and honestly, never wanted to hear again.

The noise started to rile up Dusty, who climbed onto George’s lap and began barking out the window like his life depended on it.

Acting fast, Alex rolled all the windows up and cranked the radio higher, desperate to drown out the chaos of the city.

That’s when the next problem rolled in—the heat.

With the windows sealed and the truck’s outdated AC nothing more than a glorified fan, the warmth began to build quickly. Sweat beaded down the back of Alex’s neck, soaking into his already damp shirt. His temples throbbed, his headache slowly blooming into a full-blown migraine.

And through it all, his ribs screamed.

But finally— finally —after what felt like an eternity, they reached the hospital.

Alex pulled into a spot near the front entrance, cutting the engine with a relieved sigh. He slid out of the truck with stiff, aching limbs, the sun beating down on him like it had a personal grudge. Still holding his side, he made his way around and opened the passenger doors.

He offered a hand to Evelyn first, helping her gently down from the truck. Then he helped George, making sure both were steady. Dusty let out a whine from inside, scratching lightly at the door.

Alex leaned in, rolling the windows back down before giving Dusty a small smile.

“Stay here, buddy. I’ll be back soon.”

Dusty blinked at him, tail wagging but subdued, clearly sensing his discomfort.

With both grandparents in tow, Alex guided them to the hospital doors. The sterile scent hit him like a wall the second they stepped inside—clean, clinical, too quiet.

He hated it.

Hospitals had never sat right with him. Too much silence. Too much stillness. Too much memory. The fluorescent lights, the subtle hum of machines—it all reminded him of the worst days of his life. The days after his mom died. The waiting. The not-knowing. The helplessness.

It put his nerves on edge.

Luckily, it didn’t take long before a nurse came out to call for Evelyn. She and George followed the doctor into the back, leaving Alex alone in the waiting room.

He sank down into one of the chairs, his jaw clenched tight. Now that he wasn’t moving, the pain hit all at once. His side pulsed hot, his breath shallow and erratic. The bandages were definitely soaked through now. He could feel it—warm and sticky beneath his shirt. The heat from the car ride still lingered in his skin. 

Everything felt wrong. 

He stood up shakily, intent on splashing water on his face in the bathroom before he passed out. But as he walked, slow, stiff and half-drifting, a familiar voice cut through the fog. 

“Mr.Alex?”

He looked up. It was the nurse from last time. The one who had taken care of Evelyn. Her eyes went wide, but not from recognition—from alarm. 

“You’re bleeding.”

Alex blinked, dazed. He looked down. Sure enough, a think red trickle had started soaking through his shirt. Leave it to a nurse to notice the details. 

“Oh,” he mumbled, trying to laugh it off. “Tomato juice. I’m fine.”

It was weak, his voice cracking just a little. His legs wobbled beneath him. The nurse was already walking over, concern turning into something firmer. “No, you’re not. Come with me. Right now.” 

Before he could argue, she took his arm, and guided him toward an empty exam room. Alex didn’t resist. He didn’t have the energy. 

Once inside, she shut the door softly and turned to him. “Let me see.”

Alex hesitated, then slowly lifted his shirt. The nurse let out a gasp he’d only heard in medical movies. The bandages were soaked, completely crimson. The bleeding hadn’t stopped at all. 

“Alex, this is—this could’ve been serious. What happened?”

He winced at her scolding tone, defensive instinct clashing with exhaustion. “I got attacked. In the mines. Last week.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. 

“And you’ve been working, a whole week, with this?” Her voice was sharp now. “Why didn’t you come to the hospital, or at least visit the clinic!?” 

“Because I didn’t want anyone to know,” he admitted, voice low. “Especially Granny. She’d freak out, and she doesn’t need that stress right now. Please— don’t tell her. Or Gramps.” 

The nurse looked like she wanted to argue, but after a long pause, she sighed. 

“Alright. But only one one condition—you let me change the dressing.”

Alex nodded mutely, too tired to resist. 

She moved quickly, snapping on gloves and grabbing supplies. He gripped the edge of the exam table as she peeled back the soaked bandages. The sting of disinfectant made him clench his jaw and hiss out a breath through gritted teeth. 

She didn’t let up—not with the antiseptic, not with her words. 

“You don’t have to act so brave all the time,” she said gently, but firmly. “This could’ve gotten infected. You could’ve collapsed behind the wheel with your grandparents in the truck. You’re not just putting yourself at risk—you’re putting them at risk, too.” 

He said nothing for a moment. Then, voice small and raw: “I know. I’m sorry.” 

He hated how broken he sounded. His dad would’ve called him pathetic. Tears burned behind his eyes, but he kept them back. Barely. 

The nurse’s expression softened. She finished dressing the wound with fresh gauze and gave him a small pat on the head, like a mom might do for a kid who just got yelled at but needed comfort. 

“It’s okay. You’ll all be fine.” 

She left for a moment. Alex let out a long breath, slumping back on the exam table, staring at the blank ceiling. It felt too quiet. Too sterile. Too much like the past. 

When she returned, she held a small orange pill bottle. 

“This should help with the pain,” she said, holding it out to him. “Don’t tell anyone I gave you this, okay?” 

Alex raised an eyebrow, but took it anyway, tucking it into his pocket. 

“And one more thing,” she said, pulling out a folded piece of paper from her coat pocket. “No working for the rest of the week. You’ll risk reopening the wound—again. Give this to your employer. It’s a doctor’s note stating you’re unable to work, but should still receive compensation. Paid sick leave, if you will.”

Alex took the note carefully, his fingers trembling just slightly. His eyes had gone glossy again. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“It’s my pleasure,” she replied with a warm, quiet smile. “I have a kid just like you. Strong. Brave. Brilliant beyond compare.”

Alex blinked.

The word “brilliant” caught him off guard—like a foreign sound in a language he’d never learned. He was used to being called strong, maybe even responsible. But smart? 

His breath hitched, and the nurse went on, her voice gentler now.

“But he has this habit of keeping his feelings to himself. It’s not healthy for a ten-year-old. And it’s not healthy for a twenty-three-year-old either.”

She looked away for a beat, her tone softening further. “It’s hard for him to open up to anyone but me—I am his mom after all. But he’s trying. I believe in him. And I believe in you—I’m sure she does too.”

Alex swallowed hard. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to wipe away the tears that dared to fall without making it obvious.

“You can wait in here until the doctor’s ready to speak with you about Evelyn’s condition,” she added with a nod, before slipping quietly out of the room.

And then he was alone. Sitting with the weight of the world—and her words—finally catching up to him. Trying his hardest not to break into sobs. 

The doctor didn’t take much longer, but it felt like a millennium. Alex sat on the edge of the examination table, kicking his feet nervously as he stared at the clicking clock. Watching as the minute hand slowly made it’s way from three to four. 

Lost in thought, he didn’t even notice the creak of footsteps outside until there was a gentle knock at the door. He jolted slightly, hopping off the table—and immediately regretting it. A fresh surge of pain shot through him, burning up from his toes to the base of his skull.

The nurse peeked her head in, her expression kind as always. “The doctor’s ready to speak with you now. Evelyn’s room is just down the hall—come with me.”

He followed her silently, his steps slow and stiff, each one sending warning flares through his side. But when they turned the corner and stepped into the hospital room, all of that vanished.

Because Evelyn was smiling. And so was George, in his own gruff, quiet way.

“Alex,” the doctor greeted him, motioning toward a chair near the foot of the bed. “Come, have a seat.” 

He did as he was told, swallowing the lump in his throat as he lowered himself into the chair. His nerves tense, anticipation biting at him. 

The doctor folded her hands. “We’ve got good news.”

Alex’s heart paused. 

“Evelyn’s numbers are improving steadily. If this trend continues, she should regain some more mobility by the time fall rolls around.”

For a second, the words didn’t register. They just hovered in the air, unreal. 

Then it hit him. 

The tight pressure that had made a home in his chest finally loosened for the first time in years. His smile bloomed so wide it hurt. But he didn’t care. Not even the pain radiating through  his ribs could dull the joy in that moment. 

“Oh my god,” he exhaled, looking at Evelyn. “That’s—that’s amazing!” 

Evelyn’s hands folded tightly in her lap, her eyes glistening with quiet joy. “I told you I’m not going anywhere,” she teased softly. 

George made a thoughtful sound, a skeptical twitch in his eyebrow. He kept it to himself and offered a faint smile. ‘We’ll see how it goes,” he muttered, though the relief was unmistakable. 

The doctor continued, “She’ll still need to come in for bloodwork and biweekly checkups, of course. And we’re increasing her dosage slightly—it should help, but it will cost more.”

Alex didn’t even hesitate. “That’s fine! I’ll make it work. If it means she gets better, I’d spend every damn cent I have.” 

Evelyn gave him a look of quiet gratitude, one that said more than words could ever. 

They all stood to leave a few minutes later, the air noticeably lighter than it had been all morning. For the first time in a long time, hope didn’t feel like a distant concept—it felt real.

“You two go ahead,” Alex said as they reached the end of the hall. “I just need to use the bathroom real quick—I’ll be right out.”

Evelyn nodded, pushing George along in his wheelchair with practiced ease. Once they were out of sight, Alex ducked into the nearest restroom and locked the  door behind him. 

That’s when the tears came. 

They started small—a little tremble in his chest, a sharp inhale—but quickly, they swelled into full sobs. Bent over the sink, Alex gripped the porcelain so tightly his knuckles went white. The pain in his body surged with every breath, every shake of his shoulders. 

But he couldn’t stop. 

All the fear, the pressure, the looming worry that had weight on him since this all began—it spilled out all at once. Happy tears. Overwhelmed tears. Exhausted, grateful tears.  

His ribs throbbed. His side screamed. Every movement hurt. 

Still sniffing, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the little bottle the nurse had slipped him. He stared at it for a moment, the label jumbled into an eligible mess. Then, he twisted off the cap and dry-swallowed on of the pills. 

The relief wasn’t immediate, but he could wait. He waited this long. 

He rinsed his face with cold water, blinking at his own reflection in the mirror. Messy hair, pale skin, puffy eyes. He looked like hell. But for once, he didn’t feel like it. 

The drive home was quieter. Evelyn had dozed off in the backseat before they even left city limits, her head gently bobbing with the rhythm of the road. George stayed awake, though he didn’t speak much—his gaze fixed out the window, one hand resting protectively on Evelyn’s. Dusty had taken shotgun—rightfully so—and had his head sticking out the window, tongue flowing in the wind. The hum of the engine and the distant chirp of the birds did little to distract Alex from the gnawing ache still pulsing beneath his ribs, but it was easier to bear now. Everything was. 

He kept glancing in the rearview mirror—not for traffic, but just to check on them. To see Evelyn’s chest rising and falling. To make sure George didn’t look too grim. With the pill dulling the pain to a background throb, he let himself breathe, even if only a little. The summer sun filtered through the windshield, warm and gold, painting the truck in soft light. For a moment, things felt normal. 

Back in Pelican Town, he helped George get Evelyn into the house and onto the couch, Dusty trotting in behind them. He made them both tea before slipping out again, grabbing the pouch of shipment money and the folded doctor’s note on his way back out. 

It wasn’t far to Lewis’s, but he felt the weight of every step as he climbed the porch. Lewis answered the door with his usual air of impatience, raising an eyebrow when Alex handed him the note and the money. 

“What’s this?” Lewis asked, unfolding the note. 

“Doctor’s orders,” Alex said, flatly, mildly amused. 

Lewis scanned it, frowning. “Unable to work? What happened to you?” 

Alex didn’t bother explaining. He just lifted the hem of his hoodie, exposing the thick, fresh bandaging wrapped tight around his side. 

Lewis winced. “Hmph. Alright. I’ll process it. Just don’t make a habit of slacking off.” 

“Yes sir,” Alex forced a grinned, turning and walking back toward his home, jaw tight. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of tired limbs and half-hearted attempts at productivity. He cleaned the dishes, picked up the stray laundry Evelyn had left in the hall, and finally collapsed into bed sometime late afternoon, Dusty curling up on the floor beside him.

Lying in the stillness, Alex stared at the ceiling, his thoughts drifting. He thought about the kind nurse. The pain in his ribs. About Evelyn’s smile when the doctor spoke. And then… about him. 

How close they were the other night. How if it wasn’t for Robin—he may have done something he would’ve regretted. How even now, days later, he couldn’t forget the feeling of Sebastian’s smooth hands on his skin, or the sparkle in his dark eyes.

His face flushed just at the memory. 

He covered his face with both hands, groaning quietly. “Oh my god,” he muttered into his palms. Why now? Why did his brain have to shove that into the emotional stew pot? But there it was: the sound of Sebastian’s voice, the look in his eyes when he said “Golden Boy,” the way his knee nudged against Alex’s. 

Normal guys thought about this stuff, right? Normal guys had… somewhat homoerotic flashbacks about their moody ex-best friend? That was a thing? Totally normal. Definitely not a crisis.

He was losing it. And he couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore. 

Reaching for his phone, he thumbed through his contacts and texted Haley. 

Hey. Can you come walk Dusty with me? I need to talk, just us. 

In fact, it was so rare, she’d probably assumed he was having some kind of existential crisis. And… well, she wouldn’t be wrong.

He tugged on his runners and gently nudged Dusty awake with a quiet, “C’mon, bud.” The dog let out a groggy little grumble from where he was curled at the foot of the bed, clearly unimpressed. But one look at Alex’s face, and Dusty relented with a huff, stretching his limbs. 

In a flash he was out the door, carful not to wake his grandparents who were sleeping on the couch. 

Outside, the evening air slapped him awake. And right on cue, Haley—with an eager grin—came waltzing up to his front door. 

“This must be serious,” she said as they started walking down the dirt path together. “I’ve never seen your brows so furrowed. Careful, you might get wrinkle lines.” 

Alex gave a quiet, hollow laugh. “Guess I’ll match George soon enough.”

They fell into step, Dusty leading the way down the dimly lit streets of Pelican Town. Most of the houses were dark now, save for a few porch lights still flickering. The crickets chirped in lazy rhythm, and the breeze carried an early summer warmth. 

Haley didn’t say anything else at first. She just walked beside him, their arms occasionally brushing. She knew better than to rush him. Alex’s mind felt like it was spiraling—tied in one too many knots to untangle. The evening had quieted around them, but not his thoughts. 

He didn’t know how to feel. Or more importantly, how to not hate the feelings that were clawing their way to the surface. That same gnawing tightness in his chest every time he thought about Sebastian—was it anxiety? Was it something else? He didn’t know—and not-knowing was the worst part. 

“You invited me out here to talk, yet all I hear are crickets,” Haley finally said, breaking the silence. “So spill. What’s goin’ on in that overactive head of yours?” 

Alex chewed his cheek, eyes downcast as his feet crunched over the gravel. “...I got hurt, real bad, a few days ago.”

Haley blinked. “Hurt?”

“In the mines,” he clarified. “I was taking a side job for extra cash and… one thing led to another and I was bleeding out on the side of the river. Thought I was going to die—” 

“Oh my god, Alex!” Haley barked, clearly offended she hadn’t found out sooner. 

“Sebastian found me.” 

Haley’s eye widened, but she stayed quiet, letting him keep going. 

“He, uh… took me back to his place. Patched me up—” 

“He undressed you!?” Haley roared, clearly amused. 

Alex flushed bright red, nudging her arm with his elbow, “Not like that, you perv!” 

“As I was saying,” Alex continued, nerves clawing at his throat. “He then… I think we shared like….” He mumbled, glancing at her with a face redder than a tomato. “Like, uh… a moment—as you call them.”

Haley gasped, hands flying to her mouth as she squealed in pure glee. “You’re kidding! Really!? What happened?! Tell me everything! ”

Alex winced and groaned, looking like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “He was just… really gentle, I guess? Cleaning up my wounds, checking the bandages and stuff. Then we got to… playfighting. Like when we were kids. It was dumb but—he was close. Like, really close.”

“And then?”

“Robin came in. She gave us this look. I don’t know what it meant, but it made me feel so awkward I just bolted. Literally ran out the door.”

“Oh my god,” Haley whispered, already clinging to every word. “That’s—so embarrassing.”

“Right?!” Alex groaned, kicking a small rock down the path. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“No doubt. I’d be embarrassed too.”

He shot her a betrayed look. “Real nice, Hales.”

She snorted quietly, nudging him with her elbow.

Alex rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softening. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling. It’s like… every time I’m around him, my chest tightens, and my heart either swells or just stops working entirely. And then my brain decides it’s time to hyperfocus on the stupid way his hair falls in his face, or how he smirks when he’s teasing me, or how he says that damn nickname like it means something.”

He stopped walking, eyes glued to the ground.

“I can’t think straight. I can’t even breathe sometimes.”

Haley tilted her head, watching him quietly for a second. “I think,” she said slowly, “you might have a crush, hun.”

Alex looked like he might combust on the spot. His whole face went red, and he covered it with both hands again. “It’s not a crush! It’s just…” He sighed. “I don’t know what it is. Up until last spring, he hated my guts. Now he’s nice and funny and— ugh, I can’t take it.”

“People change,” Haley said softly. “And so do feelings.”

“If it was a crush…” He kicked another rock, harder this time. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

Haley was quiet for a moment, then placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Then how about this? It’s not perfect advice, and maybe not the healthiest thing in the world, but try not to overthink it right now. Let him be your friend again. You might be feeling this way because it’s been a huge shift, like, emotionally, and that can be overwhelming as hell. Just give yourself some space to breathe. If something is there, it’ll happen. On its own terms.”

Alex stared at her for a long beat before nodding slowly.

“When did you get so wise?” he muttered, half amused, half baffled.

Haley giggled. “ Lifetime magazines, baby. Very educational.”

☀️ Summer 11 - Year 1 ☀️

Today was the Luau.

Normally, Alex would’ve been excited—over the moon, even—to spend time out in the sun, eating good food, hanging with Haley, and ignoring whatever judgmental stares came his way.

But this year was different.

Because of him.

Alex hadn’t so much as glanced at Sebastian since the incident, let alone spoken to him. He’d buried himself in work—day and night—trying to outrun his feelings and the gnawing ache still lingering at his side. But today, there was no escape. He’d have to see him. He’d have to face everything Haley had said the night before.

Her words had been stuck in his head ever since. Him? Have a crush —on Sebastian, of all people? She had to be out of her mind.

And yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the thought. Or the feeling.

Just get through today, he told himself. That’s all you have to do.

He threw on the first pair of joggers he could find, tugged on the cleanest white shirt in his drawer, and shrugged into his letterman jacket. It had been at least a month since he’d last worn it, and the moment he moved, a cloud of dust puffed up around him, making him sneeze.

But it was worth it—for the plan.

His logic was simple: wearing the jacket would remind Sebastian of high school—of the version of Alex he used to be. Hopefully, it’d be enough to keep him at arm’s length, to make him think twice about talking to him. Maybe, if he was lucky, it’d snap things back to how they used to be.

Back when Sebastian hated his guts.

That, at least, had been easier to understand.

So with his head held high and the fakest confidence he could muster, Alex stepped out the door—with Evelyn and George in tow. What kind of grandson would he be if he left them behind?

Evelyn’s arm was gently looped through his as he helped guide her down the dirt path, her steps careful but steady beside his. George rolled along at their other side, maneuvering his chair with the kind of upper body strength that always surprised people who didn’t know him well. He’d insisted on rolling himself—as he always did.

When they reached the edge of the beach, Alex slowed, momentarily awestruck. Bright banners flapped in the warm breeze, and colorful lanterns hung from palm trees, casting playful patterns of light across the sand. Tables were already laid out with food, and the sound of upbeat music drifted through the air, mingling with the laughter of townsfolk.

He blinked. Had they really gone all-out this year?

Before he could ask, his answer came—bounding toward him with all the energy of a caffeinated puppy.

“Alex!” a familiar voice rang out behind him.

He turned just in time to see the farmer sprinting up the path, beaming. They fell in step beside him easily, slotting in at his free side with a familiar ease.

“Granny Evelyn! Grandpa George! How are you two doing?” the farmer asked brightly, cheeks a little flushed from the run.

Evelyn peeked around Alex, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Hello, sweetie! We’re doing well, thank you. And yourself?”

“Super exhausted,” the farmer groaned dramatically, though they still smiled. “But I’m getting by.”

Alex, meanwhile, had drifted a little—his gaze wandering back to the decorations as his mind wandered elsewhere.

The farmer followed his line of sight and smirked. “Like the decorations, huh?”

Alex blinked back to reality, then nodded, smiling down at them with that wide, boyish grin that seemed to melt away years of stress from his face. “Yeah, they look great, don’t you think? Lewis has never gone this far before. I wonder what got into him.”

The farmer scoffed, rolling their eyes. “You think Lewis did this?” they said, incredulous. “Please. He came crying to my doorstep at four in the morning begging me to help set up. Lucky for him I was already up feeding the chickens.”

Alex groaned and rolled his eyes. “Yup. That sounds exactly like cheapskate Lewis. I know all about that guy.”

The farmer just grinned—mischievous, almost devious—and chuckled low under their breath. “It’s not all frowns, I promise. I’m preparing something way better than a lousy sum of gold. Just wait till you see Lewis’ face.”

There was something about the way they said it, coy and conspiratorial, that made Alex shiver. He laughed, a little uneasy. “You scare me sometimes, you know that?”

“Don’t be scared,” the farmer said cheerily, already jogging off as they spotted Emily farther down the beach. “Be excited. You’re gonna love it!”

And with that, they disappeared into the crowd, leaving Alex standing there with his grandparents. A very confused, slightly worried smile on his face.

He felt the familiar crunch of sand beneath his sneakers as he scanned the beach. The sun cast golden rays across the waves, and the soft hum of chatter and laughter filled the air. 

Near Elliot’s shack, he spotted the writer himself, leaned against the doorframe with practiced ease. He was reading one of his poetry pieces to Leah, who looked half-amused, half trapped. Pierre and Caroline were fussing over the last touches on the food table, Caroline adjusting the placement for the garnish for the third time. Nearby,  Vincent and Jas were tossing what looked like actual vegetables into the stew pot this year—thank Yoba. As long as there was no glitter or Play-Doh involved, Alex would count it as a win.

He swept the beach once more. 

No sign of Sebastian.

He let out a small breath, shoulders easing just a tad. Good. One less thing to worry about. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of blonde hair. Haley stood near the water’s edge, her camera raised, snapping photos of the tide as it shone in the sunlight. She was frowning in concentration, adjusting her lens as the waves lapped over her sandals. 

Beside him, Evelyn followed his gaze and gave his arm a gentle pat. “Go on, sweetheart,” she said with a knowing smile. “You can catch up with your friend. We’ll be just fine.” 

Alex blinked, then offered her a grateful grin. “Thanks, Granny.” 

He jogged off across the sand, dodging children and wayward beachballs until he reached Haley’s side. 

“Get any good photos yet?” he asked casually, rocking back on his heels. 

Haley yelped, almost dropping her camera. “Alex!” she gasped, turning with wide eyes. “You scared the crap out of me! I was in the zone. For someone so tall, you’re way too light on your feet.” 

Alex barked a laugh, cockily flipping his hair back with a dramatic flair. “Of course I am. I was star quarterback for a reason. ”

Haley rolled her eyes, but her mouth twitched into a smile. “The second you put that jacket on, you turn into a different person. A lot more…”

“ Handsome ,” he said with a smirk.

“No,” she said immediately. “More like… annoying. ”

Alex clutched his chest in mock offense. “Ouch. Right in the ego.”

She scoffed, nudging him with her elbow. “Relax, you can drop the act. He isn’t looking.”

Alex froze for a second and then flushed a bright, unmistakable red. He didn’t even bother to ask who she meant. They both knew.

He cleared his throat and glanced out at the ocean, suddenly very interested in the way the sunlight bounced off the waves. “I’m not acting,” he muttered weakly.

Haley snorted. “Sure you’re not.”

They stood there for a moment, toes in the sand, chatting about the decorations, the stew, how the farmer had apparently taken over the entire setup process like some kind of beach-themed vigilante. It was light.

But then Alex felt it.

A weight at the back of his neck. A flicker of awareness down his spine.

Someone was watching him.

And from Alex’s side, Haley felt it too. 

“Oooh~ Guess who’s watching us,” she sing-songed, a grin curling on her lips.

Alex turned his head slightly—just enough to catch a glimpse—

Smack!

Haley slapped his arm with practiced precision. “Don’t look, stupid!” she hissed. “You’ll look desperate if you look back. Trust me. Give it a few minutes and he’ll come to you. ”

“Haley,” Alex muttered, rubbing his arm. “This isn’t Mission Impossible or one of your dumb romance books.”

“Don’t question the master, ” she said, tilting her chin proudly. “You’ll be thanking me later. Just keep talking. He’s probably pacing in his boots trying to work up the nerve to come over.”

Alex sighed but let the conversation drift back to normal. They chatted aimlessly for a few minutes—about Emily’s ridiculous beach attire, how Clint nearly tripped over a shovel, and how the farmer looked five seconds away from throwing Mayor Lewis into the soup pot himself.

The a shadow passed just a little too close. 

Alex’s chest tightened as Sebatian walked by them, not slowing, not stopping—just passing. His eyes flicked to Alex’s for the briefest of moments.

And then they were gone. 

He looked away and kept walking, heading toward the edge of the dock where he stopped, hands buried in his hoodie pockets, eyes out on the water. 

Alex blinked, and a smug little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He turned to Haley, arms crossed. “See? Told you. No interest. He didn’t even stop.” 

Haley groaned loudly and threw he head back. “Are you that dense!? Did you not see that look he gave you?”

Alex raised a brow. “You mean the look that lasted half a second?”

“That was a meaningful look,” she said, gesturing dramatically. “He desperately wants to talk to you. He just didn’t want to say anything with me standing right here!”

Alex flushed, “Now I think you’re reading way too much into this…”

“One of us has to think for both of us,” she shot back, giving him a pointed look. “Now go. Talk to him. You’re not going to clear the air just standing here pretending to admire seashells.”

Before Alex could protest, Haley placed both hands on his back and shoved.

“Haley—!”

“ Go!! ”

He stumbled forward onto the wooden dock, catching himself just before tripping. He turned back with a half-hearted glare, but Haley only grinned and gave him a double thumbs-up.

Defeated, Alex drew a breath. His hands fidgeted at his side before he stuffed them into his jacket pockets, slowly making his way down the dock—toward the one person he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about all week. 

Sebastian didn’t turn when Alex approached. But a faint smirk tugged as he said, “Took you long enough to bring out the jacket again.” 

Alex stopped beside him, lips twitching. “Yeah, well. I can only break it out for fancy occasions,” he said, giving the collar a dramatic little tug. “Wouldn’t wanna ruin the vintage charm.” 

“Right,” Sebastian snorted, quiet but genuine. “Wouldn’t want to devalue such a priceless relic.” 

That earned a laugh from Alex, an honest one. One that was light and sudden, like the sun had peeked through after days of rain. The tension between them eased, just a little. 

Then Alex shifted, looking down at the rippling water. “Hey,” he started, voice softener now. “I’m sorry about last week—” 

Sebastian shook his head before Alex could continue. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he said, cutting him off gently. His eyes were on the water, but the flicked to Alex’s face for a moment—just long enough to say more than his words. Alex tensed, suddenly sure that Sebastian was about to say something that would drag every buried feeling into view. 

But instead, Sebastian just shrugged and looked away again. “I’d hate to make Evelyn and George worry,” he said. “It was the responsible thing to do. Leaving, I mean.” 

He sounded casual. Too casual. 

“Yeah,” Alex said after a beat, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I guess it was.” 

They stood there a moment longer. The ocean lapped at the docks below. Somewhere in the distance, Emily shouted something about the “vibe” of the soup being off, and both boys snorted.

“I swear, she added lavender last year,” Alex said, grinning. “You should’ve seen Lewis gag. I thought he was gonna pass out in the sand.”

Sebastian cracked a smile. “Honestly, I would’ve paid to see that.”

They laughed. It was easy. Easier than Alex had expected it to be.

Then—

“ Sebastian! ”

Both of them turned at the sound of Abigail’s voice. She was jogging toward them from the far end of the beach, purple hair bouncing with each step.

“There you are!” she said breathlessly. “Sam and I were looking everywhere. The governor’s about to taste the soup— c’mon! ”

Before Sebastian could even get a word out, she grabbed his wrist and tugged him away with a breezy sort of insistence.

“Wait, I—” he started, glancing back at Alex for half a second. But Abigail was already dragging him down the dock, fast and efficient.

Alex stood there, a little stunned, watching the two of them retreat. There was something oddly familiar about the scene—something nagging at the back of his mind.

And then it hit him.

Déjà vu.

Abigail always had a knack of showing up.

Alex blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. He watched as Abigail gave  Sebastian a playful shove, laughing at something he said.

Then—she turned. Over her shoulder, she looked straight at Alex. And smirked .

Before he could react, she turned back around and disappeared into the crowd with Sebastian and Sam.

Alex stood there a moment longer, unsettled without quite knowing why.

Then he sighed and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, the warmth of the moment already starting to fade. Alex made his way back toward Haley, who was very clearly fuming—arms crossed, one foot tapping violently in the sand as she glared daggers at the back of Abigail’s head. 

“ Ugh! I hate that girl,” she snapped, practically stomping her foot into the beach. “She always ruins my plans with her shiny eyes and bouncy purple hair —ugh!”

Alex looked down at her, amusement curling at the corners of his lips. He didn’t say anything, just let the moment sit, the grin tugging wider as Haley sulked and scowled.

A brief silence passed.

Then he nudged her lightly with his elbow. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He looked out at the dock, now empty again. “Sebastian and I… I think we’re cool now. So maybe it’s a good thing she showed up before I messed anything up.”

Haley snorted and gave him a teasing jab to the ribs. Ouch, yeah—still hurt.  “Yeah, you always have a knack for that.”

Alex laughed, about to reply—

But then the crowd started to quiet.

Mayor Lewis raised his hands dramatically, ushering everyone’s attention to the center of the gathering where the giant soup pot sat proudly. On one side of him stood the Governor, regal and overdressed. On the other side—smiling like they’d won a private game of chess—the Farmer.

Lewis cleared his throat. “Citizens of Pelican Town—and honored guests,” he began, puffing out his chest. “This year’s Luau has been, as always, a resounding success. Slightly aided, of course, by the new farmer’s help in decoration and soup preparation.”

Alex raised a brow. 

Lewis turned toward the Governor. “Well, sir, would you like to try our humble stew?”

“Of course,” the Governor said with a gracious nod, reaching for the comically oversized spoon as if he were drawing Excalibur. “I’ve been looking forward to this all year.”

The crowd leaned in with bated breath.

The Governor dipped the spoon into the soup and took a long, deliberate taste. He smacked his lips thoughtfully. “Hmm. Tangy... interesting. Surprisingly good.”

Alex caught the gleam in the Farmer’s eyes as their grin widened—so smug, so unmistakably self-satisfied.

But then the Governor paused.

He looked down into his bowl with a frown. “Just one moment… There’s something in here…”

Everyone watched as he reached into the soup.

And pulled out a very unfortunate, extremely waterlogged, and unmistakably purple pair of boxers—with polka dots! 

The Governor’s face turned an instant shade of green. He choked, holding it up between two fingers like it was radioactive, before throwing it to the ground. “This is disgusting! I’ve never been more insulted in my life. My tongue is swelling! I–I think I’m going to be sick—”

Chaos erupted. 

Lewis’s face turned beet red. “ WHO PUT THAT IN THERE!? ” he bellowed, practically tearing off his hat. 

Haley had turned completely away, shoulders shaking as she tried—and failed—not to laugh. She covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes watery with tears from holding it in.

Alex was doing everything he could not to burst out cackling. His whole face hurt from the effort.

But then he glanced across the way—

And spotted Sebastian.

One hand clamped firmly over his mouth, his shoulders tense with the effort of keeping it together. His eyes were wide with horrified delight, like this was the funniest thing he’d ever seen but he knew he’d catch hell if he made a sound.

Their eyes met.

And that was it.

Alex nearly lost it.

A snort caught in his throat, and he had to whip a hand to his mouth to physically keep himself from howling. His whole body shook from the effort, chest puffing like he was trying to stifle a sneeze and a laugh at the same time.

Seeing Sebastian so close to losing it only made it ten times harder.

He turned away quickly, staring hard at a palm tree like it might save him.

The Governor stormed off, Lewis trailed after him, sputtering apologizes and throwing desperate looks as the pot. The Farmer? 

Still standing there. Still grinning like the Grinch on Christmas. 

Not even pretending to be sorry.

Notes:

everyone thank cam (me) for no angst this chapter. everyone deserves a break, even stupid dumb dumbs like alex.

sorry the updates are taking longer, i uh...... got a concussion :') so looking at the computer for too long gives me a major migraine. but im finally on the mend so expect more soon (she says as she doesnt updatee for another 3 weeks.)

Chapter 7

Notes:

girl tell me why it took me a month to update when i have over 10 chapters sitting in backlog? idk. im just forgetful and tired. anywhooo, enjoy this special chapter :3

☀️ Summer 13 - Year 1 ☀️

Oh god, why was he doing this? 

Why was he dressed in a light hoodie and shorts—walking in squelching heat—when he could’ve spent the better half a morning working on something productive?

The sun was already edging into aggressively cheerful energy, the kind of bright that made shadows too sharp and air too thick. His hoodie stuck slightly to the back of his neck, and every loose pebble on the dirt path seemed determined to wedge itself into his shoes. The cicadas were screaming—he was not too far from it either.

He could’ve been anywhere else. Inside. Alone. Air-conditioned.

But no. Here he was, walking down to someone’s house—someone who better not be asleep, by the way—dressed like a lost tourist and swearing like he gave a damn about cardio. He had things to do. Projects to ignore. Games to half-start. 

This? This was social. Voluntary. Possibly illegal, if one counted self-betrayal. 

And for what? Because he agreed, because he’d been asked. Because someone—a very annoying someone—looked at him like they needed something from him, and for some reason, he hadn’t walked away. 

He never did, not when it came to Alex. 

Oh, and how he tried to walk away. 

She was just too convincing for her own good. The moment she narrowed her eyes and started pacing like she was planning a heist, he should’ve left the saloon. But she’d said his name, that same frustrated, high-stakes way she always did when Alex was involved, like she was daring Sebastian to admit that he cared. 

Which he didn’t. Obviously.

He just… felt bad. That was all. Guilt, maybe. For all the crap he used to say about Alex, when sneering felt easier than trying. For the fact that he’d let that weird cold war between them stretch on for years afterwards, without ever bothering to thaw it out. 

He’d told himself that helping Alex, wasn’t about Alex. It was about balance. Recalibration. Karma, if he was feeling dramatic. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t walk away. No, he was choosing not too. That’s what he told himself. Again and again. 

But even without those feelings, it’d be impossible to deny Haley of her magnificent plan. Not when she had to practically beg him.

Well—practically was generous. She’d cornered him in the saloon the day before, arms crossed, face tight with determination. The kind of expression that said I’ve already decided how this ends.

“Sebastian,” she had said with newfound determination. “I have a plan—but it involves you doing something for me.” 

She had ambushed him in the saloon, aligning his with the pool balls on the table. 

“No.” He replied, flatly. 

“You don’t even know what it is yet.” 

“Still no.”

“Come on,” She groaned like she was in physical pain. “It’s Alex’s birthday and I’m throwing him a surprise party. He has no idea. But I need someone to keep him busy for the day, or he’s gonna come home and ruin everything. You’re the only one who—ugh—he even talks to anymore.” 

Sebastian looked up from his stick like she’d just accused him of a felony. “That’s a bold assumption.” 

“Don’t play dumb,” she snapped. “He likes you. He listens to you. You guys are like—” she made jazz hands “—something again!”

He scoffed, “We are not anything.” 

“But you could be,” she muttered, almost too low for him to hear. “Just… do this for him. Please? He’s had a really rough year. You know how his last birthday went, right? Sad. Alone. No one was even here.”

A pause, then: “Do it for little Alex.” 

That shut him up. 

Haley caught the hesitation and pounced. “You just have to take him out for a few hours. Pretend you found a cool hiking trail or something. You don’t even have to talk the whole time.”

“I hate hiking,” he muttered.

“I know. That’s why it’s believable.”

She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I’m asking you because I know he won’t suspect anything from you.”

Sebastian had stared at her for a long second, jaw clenched, wishing she’d picked literally anyone else. Sam, the Farmer, even Emily would’ve had a better go at it.

But she hadn’t. She’d picked him.

And he hated how fast he’d said, “Fine.”

Back in the sweltering present, Sebastian sighed as Alex’s house finally came into view.

He could still turn around. It wasn’t too late. He could say he forgot, or that he got lost, or that he had a sudden, burning need to go reorganize his comic collection by issue number.

But then he was at the porch steps. And then he was knocking. 

No answer. He scowled. 

He knocked again, a little louder this time. 

From inside, he sudden woof! was heard—deep, excited and rapidly approaching. Sebastian took a half-step back just in time to hear the familiar, exasperated voice. 

“Down boy. Calm down. I got it, jeez—Dusty, off.”

There was the rattle of a lock, a click of the door handle—and then it swung open. 

Yeah… of course. 

Alex blinked into the sunlight, shirt a little rumpled, hair sleep-tossed, and a lazy, half formed smile tugging at his lips. He looked like he’d just woken up from a dream. Warm golden light caught onto his lashes and hair—too effortlessly good-looking for someone who’d just clearly rolled out of bed. 

“Sebastian?” Alex said, voice rough with sleep. “What’re you….?”

He trailed off, a slow flush creeping up his neck like an involuntary tell. Not a deep, embarrassed red—just a soft pink, high on his cheeks. The kind of color that’d be easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it.

Unfortunately, Sebastian was looking.

He cleared his throat. “Did I interrupt your beauty sleep?”

Alex blinked at him, still smiling faintly. “Yeah… a little. You’re here pretty early.” 

“It’s like ten-thirty.”

“And it’s like my day off,” Alex mimicked, “That’s early on my days off.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets—short pockets. Disgusting…shorts. “I figured you didn’t have anything going on today, and I found a pretty sick trail near the ridge. Thought you might wanna come.” 

Sebastian smirked—he knew how to pull Alex along. He hadn’t changed much since they were kids, just hid it better. He turned slightly with a defeated shrug, sarcastically saying, “But I guess if you need your beauty sleep, who am I to stop you?” 

About to turn heel and leave, when Alex spoke up. 

“Wait,” Alex called out, “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.”

Sebastian huffed a victorious laugh, too quiet for Alex to hear.

“I’m just… confused.” Alex said plainly, “I don’t get why you—Mr.Loner Sebastian—came to my house to ask if I wanted to hike?”

Sebastian feigned another shrug. “I need someone to carry my water bottle.”

Now Alex looked suspicious, and Sebastian realized too late that sarcasm might’ve made it worse. 

“...You hate hiking,” Alex said. 

“Yeah, well,” Quick, think! Sebastian replied, trying to not make eye contact with the warm, sleepy stare. “Mom says I need to try new things.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at him, but there was no bite to it. “This… isn’t about Haley is it? It has Haley written all over this.”

“No. No Haley schemes.” He lied. 

“...Okay,” Alex shrugged a bit too easily. “Sure.”

Sebastian blinked, “wait—really?” 

“Sure, why not? Not like I have anything planned for today.” He turned back into his house, voice drifting over his shoulder. “Give me ten minutes to get ready.”

“Hurry up before I change my mind!” Sebastian called after him, the door swinging shut. 

He stood there, vaguely stunned by how easy that had been. Then, a wet nose nudged his calf. Ugh—Shorts. He looked down to see Dusty sitting at his feet, tail thumping against the ground with enthusiasm. 

“Hey, bud,” Sebastian murmured, crouching to scratch behind his floppy ear. “If he ever causes you any trouble, come to my house, ‘kay?” 

Dusty barked once in understanding, nudging his head against Sebastian’s leg. He let himself smile, just a little. 

“Good boy.”

The door creaked open again, and Sebastian turned to see Alex stepping out—now dressed in a fitted athletic tee, cargo shorts, and those stupidly practical trail shoes that made him look like he actually did this sort of thing for fun. His hair was neater now, damp from a quick rinse, and his cheeks were dusted pink from the heat. Slung over his back was a small backpack. 

Sebastian stood from where he’d been crouched petting Dusty, brushing his hands off his hoodie. “Took you long enough.” 

Alex grinned, unbothered. “Sorry, sorry~! Had to say goodbye to the grandparents.”

“Did you kiss them both on the forehead, too?” Sebastian asked dryly.

“No,” Alex replied, completely straight-faced. “George headbutted me like a goat and Evelyn gave me a chocolate. I think I won.”

Before Sebastian could fire back, Alex walked past him and—without a word—plucked the water bottle from his hand and slid it into the side pocket of his backpack.

Sebastian blinked.

“…What’re you doing?” he asked, more surprised than anything.

Alex beamed at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You said you needed me to carry your water bottle, right? So that’s what I’m doing.”

Sebastian stared at him for a second too long. It was such a small gesture. Just one water bottle. Not a big deal. But something about the ease of it. How Alex didn’t ask or hesitate, just did it without turning it into a big thing. His stomach flipping sideways, and his face flushed. 

He wasn’t used to that. Not from most people. Especially not when he hadn’t asked.

“…Right,” he muttered, forcing his feet to move down the dirt path before his brain caught up. “Thanks.”

“No problem, dude,” Alex said, slapping the bag lightly as he fell into step beside him.

They started toward the path leading up through the mountain pass. The grass crunched beneath their shoes—dry and sun-warmed. A warm breeze flew through the air, rustling the high trees just beyond the ridge. 

A few minutes passed in companionable silence—if not for Alex humming a tune to himself, until he glanced sideways, squinting at Sebastian. 

“Y’know,” he said, “I don’t usually go hiking with people who show up unannounced.”

Sebastian shrugged one shoulder. “Guess I’m just lucky.”

Alex huffed a short laugh, and his squint deepened. “I’m serious. It’s a little weird. You sure this isn’t part of some elaborate Haley prank?”

“No tank tops. No glitter. No booby traps,” Sebastian said, deadpan. “I promise.”

“Hmm.”

They kept walking.

Then Alex suddenly nudged him, shoulder to shoulder, light but solid. Not playful, not teasing. Just… familiar.

“You’re being weirder than usual,” he said, watching him carefully now. “What’s going on? You’re not secretly gonna kill me and leave me in the woods, right?”

Sebastian cracked a quiet laugh. “Wow. You cracked the whole thing wide open.”

“So you are planning to kill me.”

“I mean, you’ve had it coming.”

Alex grinned. “Fair.”

Sebastian shook his head, smiling faintly despite himself. “It’s not that deep, man. I just figured it might be nice. Y’know. Doing something outdoors. With someone who doesn’t suck.”

Alex looked at him for a beat longer, that unreadable expression flickering behind his easy smile. Then he nodded.

“Alright,” he said simply. 

The trail wasn’t hard per say. Just long enough to warm up your legs and make you remember you had legs. Mostly packed dirt, gravel and the occasional rock or root poking through. The kind of route you’d take if you wanted to pretend you were doing something adventurous without the actual risk of breaking an ankle. 

Still, Sebastian felt the effort. Every time the breeze died, he could feel his sweater cling a little tighter. The sun filtered through the treetops in waves of heat that stuck to the back of his neck. He wasn’t dying—yet—but it was annoying how not tired Alex looked. 

In fact, he was thriving.

“Dude, check this out!” Alex called ahead, crouched low beside a fat green leaf. “Look at this little guy—he’s got stripes like a tiny tiger.”

Sebastian wandered over and peered down. A bright caterpillar with yellow and black bands clung to the stem, slowly undulating its way across the leaf’s edge.

“I’m gonna send a picture to Haley. She loves bugs. I mean, not real bugs, but like, the cute ones that don’t fly at your face.”

He snapped a quick photo, muttering something about the lighting, then straightened and looked up at the trees overhead.

“Man,” he said, shading his eyes. “It’s crazy how different everything looks out here. Like, it’s so quiet. And the way the light hits through the trees, feels like a painting or something.”

Sebastian glanced up too, mostly out of instinct. Sunlight dripped through the high canopy like gold, swaying with the breeze.

He made a noncommittal noise. “Yeah. Not bad.”

Alex grinned at him over his shoulder. “You can admit it’s cool, y’know. No one’s gonna revoke your emo card.”

Sebastian scoffed, but his lips twitched. “I’ll have you know it’s more of a punch card situation. One more wholesome comment and I lose my concert tickets.”

Alex snorted and kept walking, veering toward a narrow curve in the trail where the trees arched overhead in a perfect frame. “This is so sick. I used to hike like this with my mom when I was a kid! Haven’t gone in so long—I forgot how peaceful it could be.”

Sebastian didn’t answer right away.

He was too caught up watching the way Alex moved through the space—shoulders relaxed, a bounce in his step, like someone who genuinely wanted to be here. The way his voice shifted when he got excited, how he leaned into things fully. There was something youthful about it. Not childish, just... bright.

It was hard to look away.

“Hey,” Alex said suddenly, stopping ahead. In his hand, he held Sebastian’s water bottle, already extended out to him. “Here. If you need it.” 

Alex smiled like it was no big deal. Like he hadn’t just read Sebastian’s exhaustion, and went out of his way to do something nice for him—without even being asked. No big deal at all. Just like the bottle earlier. Just like everything else he’d done since this morning. 

Sebastian took is slowly, brushing his fingers briefly against Alex’s as he did. The bottle was still cool. He sipped, silent, and handed it back.

“You really didn’t have to—” 

“I know,” Alex said. “But I want to.” 

There was that smile again. Bright, loud—and too kind for his own good. 

“Thanks,” he said, a little quieter. 

“No problem, dude,” Alex replied, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

They kept walking.

Sebastian’s legs felt heavy, sure—but not nearly as heavy as the tight, nagging twist in his stomach. That familiar guilt, bubbling up again, reminding him just how many assumptions he’d made. How many years he’d spent tuning Alex out—writing him off as the friend who abandoned him for no reason. A loud, dumb, popular jock. Someone who’d never once offered to carry his water, or point out a caterpillar, or notice that he was lagging behind and care enough to stop. 

Sebastian had gotten it wrong. Sebastian fell for the act Alex perfected.

Just how many years did he lose out on for resenting Alex? 

But Alex just kept moving forward, humming a tune under his breath now, like nothing was wrong at all. 

The sun had climbed higher by the time the trees began to thin. Up ahead, the glint of water peeked through the underbrush. Quiet, still, and framed by low stones and reeds that swayed in the breeze. 

Alex caught sight of it, and grinned. 

“Let’s take a little rest here,” he said brightly, stopping just before the clearing. “I’m getting tired.” 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “You? Tired?” 

Alex just shrugged, all easy smiles and relaxed shoulders. “What can I say? Hiking on legs of steel takes effort, y’know?”

Sebastian huffed a breath of amusement and followed as Alex led them down to the water’s edge. They settled on a pair of large rocks near the pond, the kind smoothed down by years of wind and rain. The air smelled clean.

Sebastian stared at the scenery for a moment. How the tree leaves danced in the wind, how the birds chirped softly in the distance, how a frog croaked not too far off. He had half a mind to try and catch it, but his legs were far too tired. 

When he turned his head, it was just in time to see Alex pull out two neatly wrapped sandwiches, grinning as he extended one over. “Here!” 

Sebastian blinked. “You made this for me?” 

Alex looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course I did. It’s never good to hike on an empty stomach. And if your eating habits are anything like they were back in the day—you need all the carbs you can get.”

Sebastian flushed immediately, snatching the sandwich and turning his face toward the water. “Ouch.”

Alex laughed. “I meant it with love.”

It didn’t help. Sebastian’s ears were still red as he stared down at the sandwich in his hands. There was something about it. Something simple but weighted. He wasn’t used to people doing things like this for him. At least not without some kind of occasion.

“Something wrong?” Alex asked, cocking his head. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want—”

“Nope—too late. All mine now.” Sebastian interrupted by peeling the paper open and taking a large bite. He chewed, blinked, chewed again, and gave Alex a pointed look. 

“...This is actually… really good.” 

Alex flushed now, rubbing the back of his neck. “Heh, thanks. It was my mom’s recipe.” 

They ate in silence after that. Not the awkward kind, but the kind that settled naturally. Birds chirped across the water. Somewhere nearby, a dragonfly skimmed the surface like a skipping stone. Sebastian could feel the tension in his shoulders begin to ease.

When Alex finished his sandwich, he brushed off his shorts and stood, stretching a little.

“Alright, check this out,” he said, stepping close to the water’s edge and bending to pick up a smooth, flat stone. “I’ve been working on my form recently.”

He wound up, tossed—plip-plip-plip-plip-plip.

Five skips.

Sebastian’s eyes widened slightly, and for a beat he just stared at the rings in the water.

He… remembers that? 

Alex grinned over his shoulder. “Not bad, huh?”

Sebastian stood, brushing crumbs from his lap. “It’s not half bad,” he said with a smirk. “But watch how a pro does it.”

He picked a rock, gave it a cursory inspection, then flicked his wrist—plip-plip-plip-plip-plip-plip-plip.

Seven skips.

Alex groaned. “Ugh! How are you still so good at that!? I’ll beat you. Just you wait.”

They went back and forth for a while, laughing and lobbing stones, bantering with every throw. Sebastian hadn’t smiled like this in weeks. Maybe longer.

Eventually, after a particularly bad three-skip fail, Alex sighed contentedly and let his last stone fall from his fingers into the water with a gentle splash.

“This has been so much fun so far, Sebastian,” he said, glancing over with a wide, bright grin. The kind of grin that could power a city.

Sebastian felt his face grow warm again. “Y-Yeah. It’s been… not half bad.”

Alex looked back out over the pond, eyes drifting toward the trees on the far side. His voice was softer. Quieter.

“You know, I’ve been here before. Not many times, though.” He smiled faintly. “When I was a kid, my mom brought me down this trail. We were visiting Granny and Gramps. She sat right by my side—right here—and we shared a piece of my birthday cake.”

He swallowed, the smile faltering just slightly.

“That was… that was the last birthday I had with her.”

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat. He turned slowly, watching Alex’s profile in the soft sunlight. The curve of his jaw, the way his eyes didn’t quite meet the horizon.

“I remember your mom, y’know,” Sebastian said after a pause, his voice low.

Alex looked at him, surprised.

“I never met her properly,” Sebastian continued. “But I remember her. She always dropped you off at school. Gave you those insane lunches. One time she snuck a cookie into my backpack when I wasn’t looking.”

Alex snorted at that, eyes crinkling. “Yeah… she’d do that. She always wanted to make sure everyone was well-fed.”

Silence settled again. Not heavy, but meaningful.

Sebastian shifted awkwardly. “She seemed like a good mom.”

Alex nodded, slow. “Yeah. She was.”

No more words needed to be said. Then, with a quiet breath, Alex bent down and picked up another skipping stone. He tossed it.

Plip-plip-plip-plip-plip-plip-plip.

Seven skips.

He turned, triumphant. “Finally! I beat you!”

Sebastian barked out a laugh. “You tied me, Golden Boy.”

Alex grinned wider. “Close enough.”

The two stayed there for a little longer, the warmth of the sun on their faces, laughter lingering in the air with every failed rock throw. It was nice—peaceful. Finally a break from real life, if only for a moment.

But like all good things, this too had to come to an end.

Sebastian sighed as he pulled out his phone to check the time. 5:16.

Shit.

His stomach dropped when he saw it: a dozen  missed texts, four calls, and one very threatening all-caps message from Haley that said “WHERE ARE YOU?”

He winced, guilt creeping up his spine. He’d gotten distracted—genuinely, wholeheartedly distracted. He had been having so much fun with Alex, talking, laughing, skipping rocks, that he completely forgot the whole reason he was here in the first place. 

He wasn’t here because Alex actually wanted to spend his birthday with him.

He was the decoy. The filler. The buffer between now and the part where Alex got to see the people who really mattered. 

Sebastian swallowed thick. 

“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice casual as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “We should probably start heading back now.” 

Alex looked up from the pond, still crouched by the water. His latest stone had only skipped twice, but Alex couldn’t care less. He glanced at Sebastian with a small pout. “Really?” 

God. Why’d he have to do that? 

Sebastian looked away, rolling his eyes to hide how his chest tightened. “Yeah. It’s gonna get dark soon. And if a mosquito bites me, I’m taking your blood in return.” 

Alex snorted, standing and brushing his hands on his shorts. “That’s fair. I’ve got the better iron levels anyways.”  

Sebastian just shook his head and started walking, faster than before. Not fast enough to draw too much suspicion, but with purpose. If he didn’t pick up the pace, Haley would murder him in  cold blood. That’d make for a terrible birthday present.

Somewhere around the halfway point back, he shot her a quick text ahead of Alex. 

10 mins away. Get ready. 

The sun had begun to dip behind the trees now, casting long shadows along the dirt trail. Birds chirped their final songs of the day. The air cooled slightly, and Sebastian shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from fidgeting.  

Alex didn’t say much on the way back. He must’ve picked up on the mood shift… or maybe he was just tired. Either way, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Sebastian  kep his eyes forward, focusing on the trail, trying not to let that stupid feeling twist around his gut again. 

They reached the edge of town just before six, with Alex’s house coming into view. A breeze ruffled Sebastian’s hair, as if pushing him forward. 

Sebastian swallowed the knot in his throat, slowing just enough for Alex to catch up beside him as they turned up the front path. Dusty barked from inside the house—like he knew something was up.

“Finally,” Alex said with a little smile. “Home sweet home.” 

Sebastian nodded once, quiet. 

He knew what was waiting behind that door. And just for a second, as Alex reached for the handle, Sebastian wished they could’ve stayed by the pond a little longer. 

Alex opened the front door to his house, fully expecting to be greeted by a quiet living room and a very enthusiastic Dusty. 

Instead, the lights flicked  on all at once. 

“Surprise!!!” 

A spray of confetti burst into the air as party poppers cracked. Four familiar faces were beaming at him from behind a makeshift banner that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALEX! 

Haley, Sam, Emily and the Farmer stood in the kitchen doorway, each holding balloons, cupcakes or some kind of party favor.  Haley had a pink glittery party hat already perched on her head. Sam was blowing on a noise maker. The Farmer waved, grinning like they knew they just nailed the execution.

Alex stood frozen on the doormat, wide-eyed, jaw dropping.

Then that big, goofy, full-teeth smile bloomed across his face—the kind of smile that made Sebastian’s stomach twist in something not unpleasant.

“What the—? Guys!” Alex laughed, almost tripping over the threshold as he rushed into the room. “You didn’t have to do all this!”

“Of course we did, silly!” Haley said, bouncing on her toes. “It’s your birthday! You only turn twenty-four once!”

“Happy birthday, Mr. Quarterback,” the Farmer added with a wink.

Before Alex could even respond, Emily swooped in, grabbed him by the arm, and tugged him toward the kitchen.

“Come on, birthday boy—look! We made you cake! Well—technically I made the cake, but everyone helped with decorating!”

Sebastian slowly stepped inside after him, brushing some confetti out of his hoodie as the door clicked shut behind him. Dusty bounded over and wagged his tail in greeting, but even the dog seemed more interested in the cake.

Alex let himself be pulled along, laughing the whole way. “You guys… this is insane.”

He turned to Sam, who was now digging around in a bowl of chips. “You came too?”

Sam shrugged with a crooked grin. “I’m mostly here for the snacks,” he said, popping a handful into his mouth. “But yeah, couldn’t miss it. Haley wouldn’t let me.”

Sebastian lingered near the doo, shoulders tense, unsure if he should stay or start backing toward the exit. Everyone was so comfortable, so lod and happy in a way that made him feel like a dark cloud  in a sunlit room. And even with Sam here, a long friend and trusted ally, he felt… ostracized. He didn’t belong with all these smiling faces… not after the way he’s treated Alex. 

Haley slid up next to him, nudging him out of his thoughts with her elbow. 

“Hey, thanks for keeping him distracted. But what took you two so long?” she asked, tilting her head. “I figured you’d want him off your back as soon as possible.”

Sebastian scoffed and looked away, cheeks coloring slightly. “We had… more fun than I expected,” he admitted, kicking at the floor. “He insisted on beating me at skipping stones.”

Haley giggled. “You can admit you had fun. It’s easy with Alex. He just has that way about him.”

Sebastian didn’t reply, but the faint pink on his face spoke volumes. 

He watched the g roup a while longer. Emily and the Farmer were chatting on about making the cake, Alex already halfway through his first slice. Haley and the Farmer were animatedly chatting. 

Sebastian shifted on his feet, the weight of the day finally catching up with him. He turned, quietly enough to not draw  attention, and muttered under his breath, “Well… I did my part.” 

He reached for the doorknob. 

“Wait–” He felt a hand on his wrist. “You’re leaving?” 

Alex’s voice cut through the chatter like a sudden chord. Sebastian paused, looking back. Alex stood a few feet away, a confused and slightly hurt look in his eyes. His fingers curled gently around Sebastian’s wrist, holding him in place—not tightly,  but enough to make it clear he wanted Sebastian to stay. 

Those puppy-dog eyes again. Damn it.

“I just thought…” Alex’s fingers trembled lightly, awkward now. “I dunno. Thought you might stick around for a little. Hang out… just for a bit.” 

From across the room, Sam called out—mouth half full, “Hey dude! You can’t leave me alone with Haley and the glitter cannons.” 

“You loved the glitter cannons,” Haley shot back.

Sebastian exhaled through his nose. “Fine,” he muttered, too low for anyone but Alex to hear. “I guess not.”

Alex’s smile came back, smaller this time, but just as warm. He let go of Sebastian’s wrist and nodded toward the living room. 

“Come on. We’re about to play some games, you can sit beside me and have a front row seat to watching me win!” 

Sebastian chuckled, “More like watching you get your ass kicked by Sam.”

Sebastian followed, trying and failing to ignore the part of his chest that felt just a little bit lighter. 

As the evening progressed, so did the laughter. The cake had been thoroughly devoured, most of the balloons had migrated to the floor, and everyone had taken one mandatory birthday jello shot. Sebastian tried to deny it, Haley practically shoved it down his throat. 

Sam powered up the game console he had connected to the living room television with a grin that could only mean trouble. 

“Alright, alright—Sebastian told me you were saving up for an Xbox,” Sam said, holding a controller like a sacred relic. “But before you make any final decisions, I must introduce you to the world of Nintendo.”

He held up a Joy-Con with dramatic flair. “This baby’s got all the essentials. Mario Kart. Smash Bros. The good stuff. The party games.”

Alex blinked from his spot on the couch, leaning forward slightly. “Smash… what now?”

A flush crept into his cheeks as Sam choked on his own laugh.

“Oh my god,” Haley said, practically doubling over. “You’re like a puppy.”

Even the Farmer couldn’t help but laugh, nudging Alex in the ribs as they sat cross-legged on the rug. “It’s a game, don’t worry. Not… anything weird.”

“Yeah, okay,” Alex said, skeptical, but grinning. “Sure. Let’s do this. But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

Famous last words.

Within fifteen minutes, the room had dissolved into joyous chaos. Controllers were passed around like contraband, and the television blared with cheerful music and colorful mayhem. Emily had gotten way too into playing as Kirby, repeatedly tossing herself off the map with little concern. The Farmer kept laughing every time they picked up an item and accidentally launched it in the wrong direction.

And Alex? Alex was losing spectacularly.

“Okay, how the hell did you throw me off the stage three times in thirty seconds?” he groaned, flopping back against the couch cushions after another embarrassing defeat.

Sam leaned back smugly with his arms behind his head. “Natural talent. Years of dedication.”

Sebastian, seated cross-legged on the floor beside Alex with his eyes still on the screen, barely smirked as he wrapped up the match.

“Practice makes perfect, Golden Boy.”

There was a beat.

A slight pause in the chatter, just a little longer than usual. The kind of stillness that made people notice things.

Haley glanced up from her spot by the snack table. The Farmer’s eyebrows raised a fraction. Even Sam glanced over, a look of vague amusement tugging at his mouth.

No one had ever heard Sebastian call Alex that before—not even as a joke. Not Sam, not Haley, not the Farmer. And the way he said it? Offhanded. Like it belonged to him.

But Alex only huffed, grabbed a throw pillow, and launched it in Sebastian’s direction.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. I suck.”

Sebastian caught the pillow one-handed, hardly looking. His smirk widened just a hair. “Only a little.”

Whatever silence had lingered broke like a wave, laughter bubbling up again. The moment passed, as moments do, swept away by the sound of Sam clicking through the game menu and Emily yelling that no one was allowed to pick The Spirit Tracks Stage.

They were loading up the next round when Sebastian noticed Alex glancing around the room, as if expecting to see someone he’d forgotten was missing. He nudged Haley lightly with his elbow. 

“Hey… where are Evelyn and George? I figured they’d at least come for cake.”

The room dimmed a little, like the shift in tone had gently nudged the energy sideways. Haley’s face softened.

“They’re with Doctor Harvey tonight,” she said. “Evelyn said she didn’t want to ‘disturb the youngsters.’”

Alex blinked, then let out a small laugh—quiet and warm and a little sad. “That sounds like her.”

“She made me promise to save you a slice of her lemon loaf,” Haley added. “She made one this morning and insisted it’s your real birthday cake.”

Sebastian watched the way Alex smiled at that. It wasn’t just polite, it was real. There was that same softness in his eyes Sebastian had seen earlier by the pond, when he talked about his mom. It hit Sebastian all at once. How stupidly, unfairly wrong he’d been. He used to think Alex didn’t care about anyone but himself. That he was all bravado and ego, all muscles and surface-level charm. But here he was, in the middle of a party thrown just for him, still thinking about the people who couldn’t be there. Still thinking about his grandma. Like he was carrying that worry somewhere deep in his ribs, even now.

Sebastian looked away, guilt crawling up his spine like cold water.

“Tell her I said thanks,” Alex said softly.

“Will do, birthday boy,” Haley teased, ruffling his hair and handing him back his controller.

The next match began. Alex picked Mario and immediately launched himself off the edge. Sam howled with laughter. And even though Sebastian’s stomach twisted with something unspoken, he couldn’t help but smile.

You’re something else, he thought. 

After another few rounds, Sebastian passed his controller to Sam with a quick “I’m heading out for a smoke.” 

“Don’t lose my winning streak,” he added over his shoulder. 

Sam snorted and saluted, “I’ll carry your legacy with pride, man.” 

The group shifted to make room, their voices still rising and falling like a tide. Someone opened another soda. Someone else was halfway through a bag of popcorn.

Sebastian stepped out through the front door, letting the screen door swing shut behind him with a quiet click.

Cool night air greeted him with a crisp bite, the sun now fully gone. The wind smelled like pine, earth and the faintest hint of cake frosting drifting out from the open windows.

He dug into his jacket pocket, fingers brushing the soft cardboard of a cigarette pack. He lit one, the flare of the lighter briefly illuminating his face, and leaned against the porch railing with a quiet exhale.

Behind him, the laughter of his friends carried on, distant and golden.

He should’ve felt proud. The distraction had worked. Alex had been surprised, had laughed, had looked like a little kid again for the first time in… who knows how long. Mission accomplished.

But his chest felt tight anyway.

The porch was quiet.

Sebastian exhaled slowly, watching the last piece of his cigarette burn down between his fingers. The muffled chaos of Smash Bros and laughter spilled faintly from the house behind him. Out here was just the soft rustle of summer leaves, and the occasional wolf howl. 

He leaned against the porch railing, flicking ash over the side. The glow from the butt was fading. Two or three more drags and it’d be out. 

He didn’t mind the solitude. It helped settle the parts of him still bristling with noise. The surprise of the party, the sound of Alex’s laugh, the stupid way his chest kept tightening every time Alex looked over with that dumb, sunny smile. The kind of smile that could split storm clouds. The kind that made Sebastian feel… unprepared. And guilty. 

He turned to toss the cigarette into the small trash bin beside the porch when the screen door creaked open behind him. 

Sebastian didn’t move. Didn’t speak. 

Footsteps. Hesitant yet panicked. A low exhale, like someone had been holding their breath too long and finally gave in. Sebastian stayed where he was, mostly hidden in  the shadows at the edge of the porch. Whoever it was—probably Sam, maybe Haley—hadn’t seen him. 

But then he heard it. That voice. 

“God,” Alex muttered, dragging his hands over his face. “This is all too much. Why— I don’t…” 

Sebastian’s stomach dropped. 

Alex didn’t sound like he had ten minutes ago, grinning at the TV and chirping about Sam being a nerd. His voice now was low, frayed, shaking at the edges. His breathing was uneven, his silhouette tense in the faint light spilling through the open door. He looked like he was about to break. Like he’d kept a mask on too long and it had finally cracked. 

Is this…? 

Sebastian’s throat felt dry. He shifted just slightly, clearing it. 

Alex jolted at the sound, head snapping toward the shadows—and then he flushed bright red and flicked the porch light on.

“Sebastian!?” he gasped, eyes wide. Then, recovering way too fast—like he was used to putting on the mask—he shoved his hands in his pockets and gave a half-laugh. “Of course you’d be hiding in the dark.”

Sebastian tried not to look as thrown as he felt. He rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the urge to ask if Alex was okay. But it didn’t feel right to press—not with that raw, exposed look still lingering in Alex’s eyes.

So instead, he smirked. “You know me… always brooding in the shadows like a low-budget Batman.”

Alex huffed a laugh, too fast, too nervous. Then he looked away.

Sebastian stepped forward and stood beside him, close enough that their arms barely brushed. The summer breeze drifted past, warm and soft, carrying the scent of cake from the kitchen. Alex’s shoulders rose and fell with a few shaky breaths.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” Alex murmured, voice quieter now.

Sebastian let the words hang in the air for a moment. “You looked like you were having a moment.”

“…Kinda am,” Alex admitted, still not looking at him.

Another beat passed. Then Sebastian reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a small, beat-up box—clumsily wrapped in newspaper comics and scotch tape.

He held it out between them.

“Don’t mean to make it worse—and please don’t ugly cry,” he said dryly, trying for casual but not quite managing it. 

Please just smile again. 

Alex blinked, caught off guard. He took it carefully, brows furrowed as he peeled back the taped-up corners with slow, deliberate care, like the box might explode or vanish if he wasn’t careful. Then—he froze.

“No way,” he breathed. “Dude! This was my favorite comic book when I was like eight. I lost it in the move…”

He looked up at Sebastian, stunned. “How’d you know?”

Sebastian shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Figured you might like it.”

He hadn’t expected the look Alex gave him—completely stunned, like this tiny, beat-up relic from his childhood had punched straight through his chest. He was staring down at the cover now like it was treasure. His fingers trembled slightly.

“I’m trying so hard not to cry right now,” Alex admitted, laughing under his breath like he was embarrassed to even say it.

Sebastian couldn’t help but smile. 

Then—without warning—Alex stepped forward and hugged him. Hard. Full-on, tight and trembling, burying his face against Sebastian’s shoulder like he didn’t know what else to do with himself. His whole body was warm and shaking slightly, and Sebastian stood frozen for half a second, caught completely off guard.

He slowly melted into it.

Slowly, he lifted his arms and hugged Alex back—tentative at first, then firm, grounding, one hand settling between Alex’s shoulder blades, the other curling around his waist like muscle memory. No teasing. No jokes. "Thank you." 

“…Of course,” Sebastian murmured, his voice quieter now, closer. “Happy birthday, Golden Boy.”

Alex didn’t say anything right away. He just held on tighter, burying his face deeper into the crook of Sebastian’s neck like maybe he needed this more than he’d let on.

After a moment, Alex pulled away, rubbing his sleeve across his eye like it didn’t matter. Like that hug hadn’t just cracked him wide open. 

But then—he gave a lopsided grin. A flicker of mischief under all the softness. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Alex asked.

Sebastian raised his brow, “shoot.” 

“...I knew about the party.” 

Sebastian blinked, then—wide eyed stared at Alex. “What?” 

Alex shrugged, a cocky smile followed. “Of course I knew.  Why else would you want to hang out with me all day?” 

It was said like a joke—but it hit like a punch. 

Sebastian’s chest tensed, the warmth of the moment flickering like a candle in the wind.

But Alex didn’t notice. Or maybe he did, and that was his plan all along. He just kept talking, still smiling, still deflecting. Still wearing that mask as tightly as he could. 

“I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid. I can tell when you and Haley are plotting.” He nudged Sebastian with his shoulder. “You said I’m bad at lying, you’re not that much better.”

Sebastian’s lips twitched, but the tension didn’t ease. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Alex tilted his head, mock-offended. “And ruin the fun for everyone? Come on. I could tell how much effort you guys put into this. It’d be a real dick move if I burst the bubble.”

He hesitated—just for a second—then looked away, eyes fixed somewhere in the dark beyond the porch.

“Besides… I was having so much fun hanging out with you. If I’d said something… it might’ve all stopped.”

There it was. Quiet, buried under the smile and the jokes and the throwaway tone. But it was real. Sharp-edged.

Like maybe, on some level, he thought Sebastian only wanted to be here because it was his birthday. Like without that excuse, Alex didn’t think he was worth the time.

Sebastian exhaled slowly, watching him. His heart ached, just a little. 

The worst part wasn’t that Alex had figured it out. The worst part was that Alex still didn’t believe he was worth it. 

Sebastian didn’t say anything, but he stayed close—let their arms brush again. 

You’re not an obligation, he wanted to say.

But maybe that could wait for another night.

Notes:

rare seb pov where he is ABSOLUTELY swooning for alex...... i mean... who wouldnt