Chapter Text
Simon
I feel kind of ridiculous as a pair of big red dragon wings is being placed onto my back. The wings are made of metallic carcases and some fancy cloth that i don't know the name of, with sharp golden tips. To me, they make even less sense with the rest of my outfit. I'm wearing a white T-shirt that's covered in dirt and blood, both obviously fake, as well as a pair of blue baggy jeans with giant holes on both legs, exposing my freckled knees. There are holes in the shirt as well, to make space for the wings. But the absolute dumbest thing about the whole outfit is the tail, red and spiky, like a cartoonish devil's.
I'm standing in a large dressing room, accompanied by two assistants - one's working on the wings, the other on my hair. Penny's sitting on the couch in front of me, on her phone, as always. She raises her head to look at me, still typing.
"Tell me this year's theme, Simon", she demands. She's just drilling me - Penny knows the theme, she knows everything about this year's Met.
"Chosen Ones: Reimagining Archetypes in Literature", I say. I don't sound particularly excited (it's because i'm not). Penny made me memorise all the important stuff, even though it's very unlikely i'll get interviewed.
"And what does your costume have to do with the theme?"
"Chosen ones often struggle in living a normal, day-to-day life, since they're so used to danger and saving the world", I reply. "So my costume is a casual outfit that has been changed due to his owner's adventurous lifestyle- God, these wings are heavy! Do I really have to wear them for five hours?"
"I don't know, Simon, do you really have to promote your new movie you worked really hard on?", Penny snaps back.
She's right. I have to remember that there's a reason why I started being active on TikTok and went on Chicken Shop Date (my first date since Agatha, which is really embarrassing) and why I finally agreed to attend Met Gala this year.
The Insiduous Humdrum. My movie.
Being a child actor is a dream for many kids. For me, it wasn't. I don't think I dreamt of anything when I was eleven. But Mr. Cadwallader was kind and patient and paid attention to me, and that was all my orphaned self needed to call him a father figure. Also, I liked following orders, and that's basically all that acting is. Directors tell you what to say and how to say it, you just need to know what they want from you. When he came to my foster home for the second time to tell me I got the main part, I agreed without hesitation.
I kind of autopiloted my way through the first The Greatest Mage movie. It's was Mr. Cadwallader's debut, it was mine as well, so I just kind of wandered around the set, wide-eyed and with my mouth open. It was pretty in character, though, since I played a young boy who got accepted into a magic school. The movie became a smash hit and got Mr. Cadwallader enough money to fund his company, Mage Studios. He ended up making a trilogy, and in the six years of shooting, editing and promoting The Greatest Mage became my world. Most of the older actors looked after me like I was their son, I got to wear fancy clothes and live in fancy hotels, and the snacks were top tier. Also, that's where I met Agatha. So, I guess it makes sense that after we wrapped the story up, I felt a little lost.
(I did star in The Right Way for Agatha when I was 18, just because the casting director said she's not getting the part if I'm not coming with her. I wasn't feeling it. She felt that. We broke up during the shooting. It was one awkward promotion tour.)
After that, I spent a year just in a slump of a sort. I didn't feel any motivation at all, barely even left the house. The Internet didn't help it: everyone felt the need to criticise my horrible performance in The Right Way. They were right, but it made me lose interest in acting even more. I lost interest in anything, really.
Everyone lost interest in me as well.
Except for Penny.
Penny was a huge fan of The Greatest Mage growing up. She loved the cast and the story almost as much as I did. This trilogy made her passionate about cinema, so she decided to pursue movie producing at uni. When Penny was a freshman, she had practice as an intern on the set of The Right Way, and that's how we met. She worked as one of my assistants, and it immediately became clear to me what a talent she was. I've never met anyone with a mind as clear as Penny's. I tend to get overwhelmed by small issues, but she can work her way around any problem. In addition to all of that, she's caring, loyal and surprisingly funny. No wonder we became inseparable. By the end of the shoot, I employed Penny as my agent.
When I was in a slump, she kept giving me offers and I kept denying them. She was clearly worried about me.
"Don't you miss being on the set?", she kept asking me.
"I do", I would tell her. "But... I just don't feel like doing anything. It feels like there's a wall between me and....well, doing anything."
"Why don't you make a movie about that, then?" Penny suggested me once.
It was a brilliant idea, just like all of hers. I did. I called it The Insiduous Humdrum. It's kind of a fantasy movie but also kind of philosophical, A24-style. I portrayed my burnout as this creature that sucks magic out of people, making them feel tired and devastated. That's how I felt when the magical part of my life ended. It's also the first time that I felt in control on the set, the first time I actually expressed myself.
I wanted the people to see it.
But so far, the promotion feels like the Humdrum from my movie coming to life. It's making me feel less and less like myself. Right now, I don't feel like me at all, I feel like some sort of a chosen-one-dragon-boy.
"All done!" The assistant says.
I turn my head to look at the wings on my back. They look a little too real for my comfort. Penny notices my distress (while still on her phone, how does she do that?) and smiles sympathetically.
"Come on", she says. "It's just Met Gala. You don't even have to do a speech or anything. You've just gotta pose for the cameras and make some small talk." She sees that it isn't helping and adds: "We'll order some pizza when you get back."
"Pepperoni?"
"Double pepperoni. And cherry scones."
"Sounds good to me," I say, then smile at her nervously and leave the room.
***
"Look over here!"
"Tilt your head, please!"
"Turn a little bit to the right!"
I try my best to follow the cameramen's contradicting orders. "It's not that bad," I think to myself. "Maybe Penny was right. It's actually kind of nice. And there are snacks."
The red carpet (which is actually blue, but it's okay because it makes my wings and tail stand out) is filled with A-list stars, dressed as kings and villains and robots and dames. I recognise some of them from the set of The Greatest Mage.
There's Ebb Petty and her brother Nicodemus, she's dressed up in a long white dress with a big red spot on the stomach, as if she's bleeding out, he looks as he always does - like a shittier Curt Cobain. They're also posing right now, but Ebb catches my eye and gives me a smile. She was my colleague in the trilogy - played the goatherd in the magic school and my character's mentor/friend. And she was even nicer to me in real life. I wish her all the best. I smile back at her.
Agatha is also here. Looking at her makes my heart sink. She was my love interest in The Greatest Mage, and she was so beautiful and carried herself with so much confidence that I developed a crush on her in real life. We began dating during the promo tour for the second movie, but after the trilogy wrapped up, we started falling out. She said I never knew what she wanted. I guess I never really did. I think she took the breakup better than me. Agatha looks gorgeous right now: she's wearing an angel costume, bur her legs are chained and taped together with duct tape. I'm usually bad at metaphors (Penny helped me a lot when I was creating the Humdrum), but I know Agatha well enough to understand that it's a commentary on how the media industry treats women - I know it's an important message for her to get through. She's always been so much wiser than me. And more confident too, you can see it shine through in the way she walks the red carpet, not asking for help despite her legs being tied. She looks like she belongs here. I'm almost happy I have to look away quickly, since I'm still being filmed.
"I think that's it, thank you, Mr. Snow!" One of the cameramen says, deciding that it's enough of my awkward poses. "Next! Mr. Pitch, please come over here!"
I turn over. There he is, looking perfect as always, smirking at me.
Baz fucking Pitch.
Baz is a rising pop star. His music also features elements of classic rock and gothic aesthetic. He's known for his poetic, sometimes overdramatic lyrics and bold, glamorous looks. His mom was a musical legend and founder of Pitch Records. He has a few songs about her too. He looks like he's bored all the time and a little bit sad. His hair is thick, black, long and gorgeous, his nose is a little crooked and his eyes are big and grey. He's tall and hot and always looks great in his pictures. People usually call those like him "white boy of the month", but he avoided such fate by being half Egyptian.
In other words, Baz Pitch is an icon.
He's also my sworn enemy.
We first met when he was guest-starring in the second The Greatest Mage movie. He was performing his debut single, No One Can Hurt You, during the prom in the magic school, where my character finally asked Agatha's for a slow dance (it was during that scene that I decided to ask Agatha out). But then, Baz's character would turn out to be a vampire and try to kill me. The shooting of that scene took an entire week, and during that week Baz did, in fact, try to kill me. He shouted insults at me in between takes. He stole my phone and posted a terrible-looking picture of me on Instagram. Once, I found a note from Agatha to meet her behind my trailer, but after half an hour of waiting I realised it was also a Baz original. We fought at least three times in that week, and I think at least some takes of him hissing while slamming me against the floor were made with genuine emotion. Mr. Cadwallader said it was all worth it, and I started thinking so too - me and Agatha just started dating, the movie got positive reviews, and my time tolerating Baz was over.
At least, I thought so. Everyone loved his cameo, so Mr. Cadwallader decided to give him a bigger role in the final part of The Greatest Mage - a minor villain who joins the good guys at the end. He regretted his decision even before me and Baz returned to beating the crap out of each other. A controversy rose around Natasha Pitch: people started talking about some of the policies in Pitch Records, said she encouraged nepotism and elitism and made it even harder for musicians from poor backgrounds to get into the industry. To make matters worse, Mr. Cadwallader made a statement against her and told the magazines that before going into cinema he wanted to work at Pitch Records as a producer but was denied the position and it went to Fiona Pitch instead. Baz stayed true to his mother and stood by her side. But the contract with him was already signed and they decided not to break it.
I had to be in his presence for an entire month while he was basically working for the enemy. Obviously, I knew that Baz would try to sabotage the movie with his evil plots for his evil family. I had to keep an eye on him. He was always around, scheming, and I was always nearby, watching. He would suddenly appear as me and Agatha are about to kiss or creep on me when I'm carrying something fragile. I would desperately try to guess his phone password or spy on his trailer (Heard some of his violin lessons. He's so good and can probably play every instrument ever, which drives me nuts). We would fight all the time. One time the crew had to rewrite a scene last minute because Baz gave me a massive black eye and they had to somehow include that into the plot.
After the shoot was over, I allowed myself to relax. Not fully, though - I followed Baz on all the social medias, just in case I find any malicious intent. He followed me back, because he knew it'll make me question him. I didn't find any actual evidence (at least, according to Penny, she says that I'm being crazy to all the proof I send her), but at least I knew each time he released a new single.
And the worst thing? His songs are really, really good. I have some of them in my playlists and actually listen to them a lot. Baz really is a great lyricist - No One Can Hurt You is one of the most touching songs I've ever heard. I wonder who he wrote it about, because I'm kind of jealous. I even know this song by heart.
When me and Agatha broke up, I didn't leave the house for like a month. Penny said I needed a change of scenery and bought me a VIP ticket to Coachella - she needed to fly to America to visit her boyfriend Micah (whom she broke up with during that trip, sadly) anyway. Baz was one of the performers - he's not big enough of a star yet to headline (which i should remember to burn him about it later), but there was still a huge crowd. That night he debuted the lead single from his sophomore album, Now That We're Both Single (he broke up with his boyfriend almost at the same time as I broke up with Agatha), and I swear that he looked right at me the entire second chorus. Like, okay, I know that I'm single, no need to remind me.
But this wasn't the weirdest thing either. I decided to come back to England as soon as Coachella ended, while Penny stayed with Micah. I was already on the way to my jet when I heard a phone call. Unknown number, it said, but I knew it was Baz (I memorised his number in case calling me or one of my friends was necessary for his schemes).
"Hey, Snow," he said as soon as I picked up.
"Hey. What's the matter?" I replied. "Wanna personally congratulate me for breaking up with Agatha? Well, you already kind of did that. In front of a large crowd."
"Honestly, I do. She was too good for you anyway. But also, stop being funny, Snow. I need a ride."
"What?"
"My jet broke down and I need to fly to England today because I have a concert tomorrow. A little birdie told me you're leaving soon, so I thought your jet might have some room for me."
I was startled. Was this a new scheme of his? To invade my personal space? Was he trying to steal something from me?
"I don't believe you. I think you're planning something."
"Of fucking course. I'm gonna poison the pilot's food so that the plane crashes and we both die. I know you're a lunatic, Snow, but have some common sense! What's more likely - that I'm a normal fucking person who wants to leave this godforsaken country where the sun is trying to kill you dead or that I'm an evil mastermind whose plan includes spending hours in your incredibly annoying presence?!"
"...The second one."
He sighed deeply. I couldn't see him, but knew he was rubbing the top of his nose that moment - that's what he does when he's done with me.
"Listen, Snow. I'll come alone - Fiona wants to go partying for a bit. I won't leave your sight, you can watch my hands in case I decide to do a fuckin' disappearance magic trick. Sounds good with you?"
I knew Baz is a good actor, but I thought he sounded pretty genuine. I could stand him for a month - what's a couple hours more?
"Sure, come over," I said. "I'll send you the address."
I thought travelling with Baz would be incredibly tense and awkward, but it was very nice. After about half an hour he just turned over to me and said:
"All right, I'm done sitting in silence. Wanna hear my demos?"
I tried not to fanboy, but the songs were so good. Just straight-up incredible. He also told me about this book he was reading. And I showed him funny tiktoks I had saved on my phone.
I'm not gonna lie, that day made me feel a little sad we are mortal enemies. Baz is very nice to spend time with.
"We'll never speak of this again," he told me when we were stepping out of the jet.
When I got home, I discovered that he had stolen all the candies I had lying around in my pockets.
That little dick.
After that, our roads crossed a couple times on award shows or parties. Sometimes he leaves sassy comments under my posts. It's kind of a routine at this point - he tries to mess around and cause trouble, I catch him, we banter, I leave, frustrated. Something's telling me today's gonna be no different.
I can tell that Baz decided to go for a "sexy vampire" kinda look for the occasion. His long hair is slicked back to show his widow's peak, real Dracula style. He's wearing a casual white shirt that's just a little more unbuttoned than you'd expect it to be and casual black pants. But the most remarkable are the red jewels on his neck and chest. Two big ones look like bite marks and the smaller ones look like blood flowing down his body - some of them are sewn onto the shirt and some are glued to his skin.
I find myself staring at him. I shudder at the thought of him noticing and try to get away. It doesn't work.
"It's very brave of you, Snow, you know."
"What is?"
"If I looked that much worse than someone, I would leave straight away instead of staring at them for five whole minutes."
Oh shit!
"I wasn't staring! I was just- uhm-"
"Oh, how I missed your stammering! And your face too," Baz leans a little closer. Why is he saying this to me? "I haven't seen any news about you whatsoever. In a long time. Thought you disappeared."
So this is why. He's trying to get on my nerves, as usual.
"I missed your voice, too," I reply. "Haven't heard any of your songs on the radio for so long. Probably since you lost that Grammy."
Hell yes! I'm getting back at him! Am I burning through insults too quickly? The Grammy part really got him, so it was worth it.
"Listen, it's not my fault both Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan suddenly decided to pop off!" he says, annoyed.
"You're just pissed that Mr. Cadwallader got an Oscar last year! We won, and you lost."
"What about you, Snow? You, the person, not the representative of Mage Studios." He gets even closer. I can see the fake fangs he put in his mouth. "You made one shitty film and expect people to go see it, as if they'd want you in something serious and not another Mage movie."
Baz doesn't actually mean it, I tell myself. He's just repeating what the Internet says. But it still hurts to hear this from him.
Suddenly, Baz laughs. It's a big, hearty laugh, and it's completely and totally fake (when he actually laughs, he does it quietly, almost silently. It looks so weird - he's grimacing but no sound's coming out, as if he's laughing on a different wavelength or in ultrasound).
"Oh, Snow, you're so much fun!" He bumps my shoulder. I'm startled. Another scheme? But then I see a waiter standing by our side, offering us a plate of tiny macarons. "Hey, there's snacks! Come on, take some!"
Baz takes one. I take four. I thank the waiter as he leaves.
"What was that?" I say, my mouth full with peanut-flavored macarons.
"Do you want people to know I hate you? That's bad press for both of us."
He's right, but I don't want to admit it.
"And also... Some things are more fun when kept secret," he adds.
I knew it! I knew he's hiding something from me! Now I just need to figure out what that is...
"But you have more pressing matters to attend to, am I right?"
"What on Earth are you talking about?"
"Are you stupid? Don't answer, I already know you are. Ebb's allergic to peanuts. I kind of don't give a shit, but if I were you, I'd stop you from eating those macarons."
Is he lying? He probably is, but if there's even the slimmest chance he's telling the truth, I have to do something. I push Baz out of the way (I love having an excuse to push him) and dash towards Ebb and Nico.
"Ebb! Ebb! Don't eat those!" I blurt out, pointing at her hands full of snacks (we used to share during the shooting, another reason why I love her).
"Oh hey Simon! Why though?" She doesn't seem concerned at all.
"They have peanuts in them!"
"Yeah, I know. I love peanut butter, and -"
"Wait, aren't you allergic?"
Ebb laughs. I feel ridiculous.
"Definitely not! Thank you for your concern, though," she smiles and turns to me. "And while you're here, Simon, how are you doing? I haven't talked to you in a long time."
While I'm telling her about my life, Penny and the movie, I'm scanning the hall looking for Baz. There he is, smirking as wildly as I've ever seen, but I'm too caught up in the conversation to go and beat up his ass. He must've thought it all through, that little bastard.
***
I see Baz again at the afterparty.
Penny said I have to go to the afterparty, but i don't have to stay for long. She also let me wear a more comfortable outfit, just a T-shirt and a pair of jeans.
He catches my eye as I'm scanning the crowd once again. Seeing me changes his usual, bored-as-hell face to a wide grin of a madman. Baz looks at his drink and shakes it at me, winking. Maybe he poisoned the cocktail! And now he's trying to make someone drink it, someone from Mage Studios.
Baz turns away to leave. The way he tilts his head feels almost inviting.
I follow him.
After a few seconds, Baz just disappears into the crowd. I just stand there, turning around, looking for him like a fool.
I'm about to leave when I hear a splash and feel my shirt soak and my hair get wet. A cold stream is running down my face and I decide to take the risk and taste it.
It's a fucking Margarita.
"Up here, Snow!"
I look up to see my mortal enemy, empty plastic cup in hand, his hair now messy, his outfit simpler, just a floral shirt. He's leaning on a banister of the second floor, looking at me like we're in a fucked-up version of Romeo and Juliet (even down to the family rivalry). Delight is written all over his face.
"Wondered if you're dumb enough to follow me just because you're always suspecting me to be up to something. Guess you are." Baz slowly walks down the stairs, clearly enjoying himself. "Simon Snow, Cadwallader's guard dog. You'd follow me anywhere if I gave you a reason to think I'm evil."
"Your entire family's evil," I say. I know it's bad to insult people's families, but he really hurt my feelings. "And you're clearly messing with me because your auntie asked you to. And- and you all want Mage Studios to fall because you all don't like innovations in the media industry!"
(That's what Penny says. She likes neither the Pitches, because she says they're conservative, nor Mage Studios, because Mr. Cadwallader is often dismissive to his workers.)
Baz rolls his eyes so hard it would probably concern a doctor or two.
"Crowley, you're exhausting," he's moving closer to me with every word he says. "It's not about Mage Studios and Pitch Records. It's not about my family or your little clique."
People around us are laughing and drinking and taking pictures. No one seems to notice what we're doing. He comes so close I can smell his perfume in a sweaty crowded room. He leans towards me, his hair getting in my face.
"It's about you and me, Snow," he whispers in my ear. Baz fucking Pitch and his love for dramatics. "I don't hate you because I'm the son of Natasha Pitch and you're the protege of David Cadwallader. I hate you because I've never met anyone more worthy of hating. And I'm messing with you because it's fun."
He squeezes his empty plastic cup and drops it on my head, then leaves.
I want to run after Baz and knock him over on the ground, like I used to do back on the set, but I don't. Instead, I go back to my hotel and try to think about getting pizza with Penny. But all I can think about is Baz's breath in my ear and the jewels on his neck and the way he smirks when he thinks of a good way to insult me.
Chapter Text
Baz
I think about Simon Snow the entire time as a taxi drives me to my hotel.
This is nothing out of the ordinary. I think about Simon Snow all the time.
Because I'm in love with him.
The first time I saw him was on a big cinema screen in The Greatest Mage when I was twelve. He was my first celebrity crush. I just thought he was pretty in the movie, but then I discovered the cast interviews. In real life, Simon was even better. He was so humble but also so passionate about the story that they were making. I've never seen a kid my age carry himself like that.
In a few months, after the hype died down, I kind of forgot about Simon. Life was happening, auntie Fiona was still establishing herself as the lead producer of Pitch Records, one day she asked if I considered signing up and becoming a singer. Obviously I did. Being raised by Natasha Pitch meant I grew up listening to some of the best songs ever written - sung to me as lullabies. Mom has an entire album written about me, but I rarely listen to it because it immediately makes me cry. She also left me her records collection that has The Beatles and Fleetwood Mac and Madonna and Tina Turner and many others. I grew up surrounded by the best stuff, just top tier - and it made me want to create music that would be just as good.
One morning I got a phone call from Fiona.
"Guess what, boy!" She blurted out excitedly. "Your music career is kicking off!"
"Good morning to you too, Fiona. Also- how can it kick off if I haven't written a single song?"
"Let me get to the fuckin' point! Remember that one movie you were obsessed with a year or two ago?"
My jaw dropped. "The Greatest Mage?!"
"Yeah, that one! It's getting a sequel, and you're guest starring. That's how we're gonna release your debut single!"
"How did you- no, a better question, why did you-"
"Listen here, Baz," she lowered her voice, as if she was scared someone would spy on her. "Me and the producer - that dickhead Cadwallader - we have bad blood. He was trying to take my spot in Pitch Records a few years ago. And I had a feeling he might release the movie on the day your debut comes out to steal our thunder. So now that's commercially effective for both of us! And even better, now you can be our man on the inside! Spy on that motherfucker as much as you can to make sure he isn't planning anything. And keep an eye on that Snow boy, too! He's basically Cadwallader's right hand man."
"Thank you for all that... information..." My head started to spin. I'm going to star in a TGM movie. I'm going to star alongside my celebrity crush, Simon Snow, and get to see him in real life. Even better, I'm told I have to look at him as much as possible. Crowley, I need a break. "Let's get back to the songwriting part."
"Yeah, you're right. So, it's gonna be a slow dance scene, so you need to make, like, a pretty love song. I know you can do it, my guy! You used to write little poems all the time when you were a kid. And I know that you're dramatic as fuck. And honestly? You have a pretty face, so the girls are probably going to go crazy no matter what you do."
How do I even go about writing a song? Especially a romantic song. I have no relationship experience!
I don't care about the girls going crazy, I wanted to tell her. Because I'm gay and you were the first person I told. And right now you're asking me to spy on my crush.
Wait!
I could just write a song about Simon!
Not explicitly, of course. Even if I weren't still in the closet back then, I would've rather set myself on fire than told Simon about my feelings. But if there's one person I'd want to write a love song about, it's him.
"I'll do my best, Fiona," I told my aunt.
"I know you will. You're a good egg, Baz," She hung up.
The first thing I dis was open Simon's Instagram profile. His latest post was the announcement of the sequel. In the picture he's holding a clapperboard, surrounded by David Cadwallader and Agatha Wellbelove. He's beaming, his golden hair all in his face.
I hadn't seen Simon for over a year at that point. And my first reaction was, Oh shit. I used to think he was cute, but at that moment I thought he was beautiful. Not just because of his gorgeous hair and eyes and smile. On that picture he looked invincible. So happy, so confident, as if nothing could possibly dare to touch him or cause him pain. Like an angel or a painting. I just couldn't believe he was a real person I could just talk to.
So I decided to write him a song instead. It was called No One Can Hurt You, and it's about how powerful yet fragile he looked. I know it's stupid, writing a love song about someone you've never met. But it was my best shot.
I remember the first time I had to play this song in front of Simon. We were already shooting my scene, just the beginning, without the vampire part. I wanted to talk to him beforehand, but just couldn't, and he was busy anyway. So I just stood on the stage and started playing. I closed my eyes to focus as I began the song, but after the first few lines I dared to open them and look at Simon.
He was dancing with Agatha.
And the way he looked at her...
Fuck. He looked at her the way I looked at him.
It broke my heart. And since I was a brainless, boy-crazy teenager I expressed it in the only way I could: by being really fucking pissed at him. After the take was over, I shouted at him:
"Damn, Snow, you're even worse of an actor than I thought!" (he's a really good actor, one of the best.)
And then he looked right at me. Straight into my eyes. It was such a weird feeling, butterflies and heartache at the same time. But I had Simon Snow all to myself. And at that moment, it didn't matter to me that I had to pay the small price of making him mad.
"What do you mean?" He furrowed his brows, blushing a little. It made my heart skip a beat.
"What you heard! You're stiff as fuck, Snow. It's a dance, you're not standing for the national anthem!"
"Said some poser whose job is to whine into the microphone," he replied angrily. Wow. He's really getting back at me! This is better than flirting. This is better than what he's doing with Agatha.
"I'd rather be a poser than a producer's puppet," I was having so much fun. I still couldn't believe Snow gave me all this attention. But then he reached towards the stage and pulled me by the shirt.
It was so hard to keep a straight face when I was so close to him I could count his freckles.
"What's your problem, dude?!" He snarled.
"He's not worth it, Simon," Agatha tried to reason with him.
Then I felt someone pull Simon away from me.
"What's going on here?" Mr Cadwallader said, standing beside him. "Did you boys fight?"
"He's being a dick!" Snow blurted out. I knew I was down bad when I realised being a snitch didn't make him any less attractive.
"Mr. Pitch, please," Mr. Cadwallader said, turning to me. "You only have to be here for a week. Please try to restrain yourself."
Then we returned to shooting the scene. But I felt much better knowing that even though Snow might belong with Agatha, I will have some sweet, sweet banter with him in between the takes.
It was the best week of my life. And then, when we were shooting the third movie, it was the best month of my life. It's like me and Snow were playing a game or doing a dance. And then, the music stopped and I was thrown back into my boring, Snow-less life. And had to answer the question, what do I do now that he has his happy ending with Wellbelove?
I had to move on. I found a guy who looked almost like Snow. His name was Colin. We started dating. (I was already out of the closet back then. I sort of had to come out: one night before a concert me and Snow exchanged replies on Twitter and I was so giddy I sung "he" instead of "she" exactly six times.) Colin had blue eyes and golden curls and he was also an actor. But I soon realised he was nothing compared to Simon. He just didn't have the same kindness, the same strength. Even his smile seemed bland, unlike Snow's (he made me feel like the sun itself was in the room when he smiled). And Colin didn't make me feel anything at all. A single sightning of Snow at an award show made my heart beat faster than a thousand kisses from Colin. We dated for over a year, and it didn't really go anywhere.
And then I found out Snow broke up with Wellbelove.
I kind of feel sorry for how fast I dumped Colin. It was the first thing I did after finding out. The second was writing Now That We're Both Single. It was extremely fun, singing a song in front of someone who doesn't know it's about him. And being with Simon on the plane...
I thought I will never get anything better than that.
Until today.
When I walked in and saw him posing for the cameras, I thanked the stars for my stylists who made me look so hot. I understand what Snow's team was going for with the messy shirt and ripped jeans, but I don't think they quite achieved it. The wings, though... They were gorgeous and fit Snow just right. And his face when he saw me... I know my case is hopeless, but he looked at the as if I was at least a little bit good-looking. And the thought of Simon Snow finding me good-looking sent shivers down my spine. It was all going the usual route: we bantered, I was just a little bit too flirty, he got frustrated by me and left.
But then, the afterparty happened. I was just a little bit tipsy, which means extra down bad for Snow. Couldn't resist pulling another little prank on him. And blessing myself with the sight of him soaked and irritated. His hair became even more curly and stuck to his head like Superman's. And his wet shirt sticking to his chest... Crowley, I'll need a few solid weeks to recover from that. I can't believe I dared to get so close I whispered in his ear. I can't believe I told him he would follow me anywhere. I can't believe he did follow me.
When I arrive at the hotel room, I'm drunk and giddy. And extremely confused, because Fiona is sitting on my bed. She travels with me all the time, but always orders a separate room where she sits all evening participating in internet discourse.
"What the fuck did you do back there at the Met?" She asks me, instead of "Hello, my dearest nephew, how are you doing?"
I'm puzzled. I am tipsy, but for sure didn't drink enough to do something stupid and then immediately forget about it.
"What are you tal--"
"Okay, you don't have to tell me what you did, but somehow it fucking worked!"
"I still don't know what you mean," I say.
"Your song! You're The Sun! It had a crazy increase in streams. It's currently #30 on Spotify!"
(You're The Sun is the lead single for my third album. It is, of course, about Snow. Most of the songs from this album are. There's a couple about Mum, one about my fallout with Dad, two about my trip to Greece, and a couple about existential dread and general angst. The rest is about Snow.)
"Wow. Did my look resonate with people that much? I knew a lot of my fans have a thing for vampires, but-"
"It's not about your look," Fiona cuts me off. "I mean, you looked great, but it's more about you and your mortal enemy slash crush."
Of course, just when I thought I couldn't be more confused.
"Be a normal person for once and go on Twitter, Baz," Fiona suggests. "Then you'll understand."
I do that immediately. I'm not massively online - as you can see by the fact I didn't open my phone once in the entire night - but as I open the Trending page, I understand the amount of damage we must've done. The trending tags are, as follows: #MetGala, #TheMet, #BazPitch, #SimonSnow and - Crowley - #SnowBaz. Is this a fucking shipname?
I go on the main page. It's the first thing I see. A post by a fan, saying "THE TENSION IS CRAZYYYYY" and two pictures below. Of me and Snow.
The first one is poor quality, as if it's been magnified. It's of us at the Met, that moment when we had to pretend to be friends because the waiter was standing next to us. I'm laughing as I'm grabbing his arm (Snow has warm hands, warm and soft, unlike mine). Simon is looking at me with a strange, soft smile, as if in disbelief. Is this how he looks at me when I can't see him?
The second one is from the afterparty, and it's even more pixelated. I'm whispering in Simon's ear. He's looking at me as if I'm saying the most interesting thing in the world. Like I'm telling him a pickup line, not that I hate him. (I regret saying he's worthy of hating. He's not. People who hate Snow are idiots. Maybe I'm an idiot.)
I can understand the person who made the caption. Out of context, both pictures look extremely romantic. I knew me and Snow have chemistry, but I never saw it from an outside perspective. If only what people saw in these photos was the truth...
I scroll down. The next post says "niamh brody my queen im so sorry you were overshadowed TWICE by the gayest shit ive ever seen". I finally see the full pictures that the snippets of me and Snow were taken from: Brody posing for the cameras (she looks even messier than Snow, that's kind of her thing) with us in the background and a group picture that has like eight people, including her and Wellbelove, and us, right in the corner.
Next post. "Do you guys think they've explored each other's bodies??" and the same two pictures.
Next post. "The real ones started shipping #SnowBaz back when THIS happened" and a screencap from the second TGM movie with me slamming Snow against the floor.
Next post. "why you're the sun by baz pitch is actually about simon snow: a thread". Me whispering to him and a screenshot with a lyric from You're The Sun.
I need to sit down. Everyone on the internet thinks I should date Simon Snow. Or that we're already secretly dating. And now I have two pictures of him looking at me in a way I've never seen him look at anyone. The room is spinning and my heart is pounding.
"That's exactly how I imagined you to react," Fiona says with a smile, as if it's a funny story to tell at a family dinner and my entire world didn't turn around this very moment. "But now, I pose a question: how do we handle this? I mean, it would be some good PR, but you probably don't feel like confessing your feelings for Simon to the entire world."
"I don't think I have a choice anymore," I whisper, trying to catch my breath. There is no way Snow doesn't see any of this. What is he going to think? Probably that it's another plan of mine. I wish it was.
Is there a way to make it a plan of mine?
"Fiona, I have an idea, and it's absolutely batshit insane."
"Will it make ol' Davy Cad mad?"
"Most likely. But it's extremely embarrassing for everyone involved."
"My favourite kind," she smiles.
I was already tipsy, but seeing all these news made me feel drunk as fuck. I can't think straight and feel adrenaline rush through my body. I open Twitter again. I get in Snow's DMs. I try to sound as nonchalantly as I can while my heart is exploding in my chest and I feel myself blush, which happens extremely rarely. I take a shaky breath and type:
"Hey, Snow!"
"Had a lot of fun making you miserable today. Imagine my face when I come home to see people on the internet thinking our mutual hatred is sexual tension. Stupid, am I right? But at least that somehow made them more interested in my music. And your trashy movie."
"That made me have an idea - how about we help each other and have a little PR romance? Let people think we're in love while we're both promoting our stuff and then come back to being enemies. We don't have to actually do anything but show up together on public, and it's not like you're getting anyone better than me anyways."
"If you think it's a good idea and/or are desperate enough to get over Wellbelove to try this out, text me in the morning."
Notes:
ANDDD THE MAIN SHOW STARTS!! this chapter was such a delight to write, both bc it's pov baz and bc i got to make sone reeeeealy chronically online references
Thanks for your support, lmk what u think:)
Chapter 3
Notes:
Holds up a big sign that says "THIS MLM FANFICTION MOST LIKELY WON'T PASS THE BECHDEL TEST BUT WITH THIS CHAPTER I WANT TO LET EVERYONE KNOW THAT I APPRECIATE PENNY BUNCE"
Chapter Text
Simon
Penny has a whiteboard. Of course she has a whiteboard. Of course she brought a whiteboard to America. It's foldable - she just pulled it out of her suitcase and spread it out. She has a whole set of markers too. Right now, Penny's writing on the board, furiously, pressing so hard that the markers wince. She's still mad at me from yesterday night.
As soon as I got in the car and saw twenty-five missed calls from Penny, I realised I don't have to worry about Baz plotting against me. (Or the way being close to him made me feel.) Penny's gonna kill me before he gets to me. When I arrived, she softly punched my shoulder then hugged me then gave me a long lecture on why you don't go to a massive event for an entire night without checking your phone. And then, she showed me the things people wrote about me and Baz. It's not what it looks like, I wanted to tell people, we might look good together but we actually want to beat each other up! It made me feel so frustrated. We immediately started brainstorming ideas for how we could handle the situation. Each one was more awful than the other, including "apologize for queerbating", "sue the people who made the pictures" and "say it was an impersonator and I've been in England this whole time".
And then, Baz texted me.
I think I jumped when I saw his messages. Then I read them and choked on air by the end of the third one. I couldn't really speak, so I just passed Penny my phone. As she was reading, a million thoughts were buzzing in my head. PR relationship? As in like, fake dating? And with Baz, of all people? I mean, he is very good-looking, but he is also evil and we hate each other. Also it's definitely some sort of a scheme.
When Penny had finished reading, I expected her to pull out her laptop or at least draw a spreadsheet. But she just put a hand on my shoulder and said:
"Right now, we sleep. Tomorrow, we brainstorm."
And then immediately headed towards the bathroom to go brush her teeth.
"Right now, we sleep." Easier said than done. I've spent the entire night thinking how would a PR romance with Baz Pitch work out for me. Would we have to kiss? Would he try to destroy my life by becoming an integral part of it for at least a few months? Would it be worth it? I think it was about six o'clock when I finally fell asleep. And about ten when Penny woke me up, ready for some decision-making.
Right now the board says "Dating Baz?" at the top and then is split into pros and cons. The pros include: "EXTREME increase in popularity" (yesterday the trailer for The Insiduous Humdrum had about 700k views. Right now, the number is close to 4 million), "might improve relationship between Mage St & Pitch Re", "ppl stop speculating on your personal life" and "Baz fans stop sending Mage St hate mail". The cons include "You hate each other" and "will give him opportunities to plot against us". (Penny wrote that one because I begged her to. "You say he's plotting against us all the time, so there wouldn't really be a difference", she said.)
After finishing writing, she sighs deeply.
"I think that's it," she says. "But i want you to know that the final decision is yours, Simon. Privacy and consent are important things, and I don't want you doing anything that makes you uncomfortable. Both as your agent and your best friend."
I feel like I can't think at all and have too much thoughts in my head at the same time. I think about everything. I think about every time me and Baz fought each other on the set. About Agatha and the words my fans called her when we broke up. (I can't say a single bad thing about her, but fans can be cruel.) About my movie. About Penny and how she tries so hard every day to get my career together. About Baz at the party with his messy hair and his stupid arrogant smile. About my movie again. About Baz again. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, is that what they say? What's a better way to keep your enemy close than to make everyone think that you're together? It can't be that bad to hold his hand or kiss him on the cheek. Our hands already interlocked each time I caught his punch and I kissed his cheek with a fist more times than I can count. If that's what it takes to make people care, I'm ready to do that.
"I think we can give this idea a try," I say to Penny.
"You sure, Simon?"
"Yeah, I think so. If that's what makes me interesting to the public, I'm alright with that. And I can keep a close watch on Baz."
"And I'll help you with that," she puts her hand on my shoulder. "You know I like to say you're paranoid about Baz, but it's not like I particularly trust him either."
That's why I love Penny Bunce.
"I hope you know how good you are," I tell her. "Sorry my life is such a mess."
"Thank you," she replies softly. "And I like your messy life. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably try to clean up someone else's mess. And that's called being nosy, and that's why I had no friends in third grade. I'm happy I get to do this for a living now. And with my best friend, no less."
"You're the best."
"I know. So are you. Now, go text Baz and I'll start making the arrangements."
She leaves the room. I pull out my phone, open my chat with Baz and write:
"surprisingly good idea, didnt know you had those lol"
"im open for discussion!! come to my hotel and bring fiona"
Then I send him the address. He arrives shortly after, no messages or anything, just knocks on my door. As the next few hours come by, we plan and arrange. (Mostly Penny, of course.) A fake relationship seems to have as much complications as a real one - there's a lot of stuff about contracts and agreements and consent. We have to tell each other where we're okay with touching each other, is flirting okay (yes, why not), is kissing okay. The last one is awkward for sure. I thought my brain would completely reject the idea of kissing Baz, but it doesn't seem to mind. But what makes that final decision for me is his reaction. As soon as Penny asks that, Baz squints his eyes at me with a smirk. I immediately can tell he's expecting me to chicken out. And I want to catch him off guard too much to care about the consequences.
"Yeah, I'm fine with that," I say. "We've already signed up for all that other stuff. May as well kiss each other."
Baz falls from his chair. I can't really see his face, but even imagining it makes the entire thing worth it. When he gets up, he's frustrated as fuck. I try to hold back a grin.
"Kiss the person I consider my worst enemy. Of fucking course. Why not," he states, like a president who just found out someone had started a war with his country. "The world's going to hell and I'm a horseman of the apocalypse."
"Is this a yes or a no?" Penny asks genuinely, as if the absurdity of the situation does not bother her at all. Fiona excuses herself from the conversation because she's laughing so hard she started choking.
"That's a yes, Bunce," Baz says, defeated. Doesn't even make a snipe at me. Not even an angry glance. Just goes to his usual bored state, mask back on. Well, it was good while it lasted.
After that, everything goes pretty smoothly. Obviously, there's still a lot of paperwork and a visit to an intimacy coordinator as soon as we're back in England, but at about 9 in the evening Penny calls it done for the day.
It's still extremely awkward between me and Baz, so I reach out my hand to shake his, because what else do you even do when you make an arrangement to start PR dating somebody? Surprisingly, he does shake it. And looks at me with a smile, like he's back in control. I did consider it was all one of his schemes, but thought that I might finally get some actual evidence if I let it go on for now. Nothing so far. But his smile creeps me out.
He looks at me like he suddenly has an idea. I know that face of his best, because it's the most concerning. He puts his hands behind his neck and undoes the silver chain around it. Then he hands the chain to me.
"Is it cursed?" I say, like an idiot.
"Yes of course," Baz replies, exasperated. "As soon as you try it on, you turn into a frog. Just when I think you've reached your peak of stupidity, you manage to surprise me, Snow."
"I just don't know why you would give it to me," and now I'm defending myself. I hate it when he makes me do it. I'm usually in attack mode.
"Crowley, you're slow. No wonder Wellbelove dumped you. Bet you didn't even notice at first."
Is he trying to make me fight him, right here and now? Because he's about to succeed. His face has never looked so punchable.
"Why can't you be straightforward for once in your life and just tell me?!"
Baz takes a step back, rolling his eyes once again.
"It's- whatever do people call it, a soft launch? Post a picture of yourself wearing this chain. Someone will clock that it's mine and everyone will go wild."
Oh, I think, this is smart. It always hurts to admit, but Baz is really fucking smart. And this time, he's not scheming against me. We're scheming against the public eye, together! It feels so strange to be on the other side. But I can't let my guard down just yet. It can always be a double agent type deal. I do take the chain, though, and try it on. It doesn't turn me into a frog. It feels very nice, actually. It's cold, because Baz has cold skin.
"How does it look?" I ask, because I don't know what else to say. I don't want to thank him, but something needs to be said.
"Shitty. Doesn't fit your style at all," he replies exactly as I expect him to. "But kind of charming. Maybe looking unfashionably is your charm," he turns away, walking towards the exit door.
I look at Baz and Fiona heading out and something just doesn't sit right with me. Where's the catch? Where's the scheme to humiliate me or make me feel bad? Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch can't just walk out of my hotel room without making me miserable! I can't look at him, all cool as if nothing just happened. It's stressing me out. I feel like a mess and he's so collected, with his long hair falling on his shoulders and his shirt slightly unbuttoned.
I just can't let Baz leave without doing anything. I walk up to him and grab his wrist and pull it towards my chest so that he's facing me.
"There's a trick. Or a catch," I growl at him. This feels so much better. This is what I always do, my Baz Pitch special. "And I'm gonna find out exactly what it is."
He looks at me, frowning. I expect him to talk back. God, I think I want him to talk back. And for a moment, it seems like he actually will.
But then, his expression changes. It softens and makes way for a crooked smile - a fake smile.
He looks at his wrist still grabbed by my hand. "There's no catch, stupid. Why would there even be a catch?"
He rotates his hand so that it's grabbing my wrist. I automatically let go of his. (He's always been extremely strong.) Then, Baz gives me the same look he gave me before singing Now That We're Both Single at me or pushing me down the stairs at the shoot. The look that means trouble. That's probably how Brutus looked at Ceasar before stabbing him.
He holds my hand up to his face. Then, he presses his lips against it.
"You're my boyfriend, sweetie," he whispers with the same sugary-sweet smile. "I wouldn't do anything to cause you any trouble."
Baz lets go of my hand, slips out of the hotel room and closes the door behind him.
"You know I love you, Simon," Penny says, walking up to me, "But I think whatever you've got going on with him is pretty goddamn weird."
"I know," I reply mindlessly.
I think Baz Pitch just kissed my hand. And I'm feeling all sorts of emotions about it. That's what he always does, makes me feel all sorts of emotions and then leaves me frustrated. I think that's his Simon Snow special.
Chapter Text
Baz
It's hard to focus on driving, because I just want to look at Snow the whole time. He's sitting in the back with Bunce, leaning on her shoulder, watching a video on her phone. They're whispering to each other so quietly I can't even hear them. They're probably talking about how much they don't trust me.
It's been two weeks since we arrived at London, but I still can't really grasp everything that happened the day we made the contract. Simon Snow agreed to kiss me. I gave him my chain. I kissed his hand like a fucking medieval knight. (He felt so smart for catching me off guard with the kissing thing, so I decided to also catch him off guard with a kissing thing. Because we're both disturbed, apparently.)
And it all worked - everyone thinks we're dating. My fans have scoured all of my lyrics for mentions of Snow. (They haven't found them all yet.) In these two weeks, I've seen the picture of him wearing my chain more times than I've seen my own face.
He's wearing the chain right now as well, as we're going on our first date, and he looks so good. Bunce, bless her heart, convinced him to wear anything other than a T-shirt, so today Snow's styling a white polo. We match - I'm wearing a red button-up with white flowers. Our PR teams made sure we're going to look like a perfect couple even on the shitty quality "leaked" pictures. It's Snow's first time calling paparazzi on himself and he doesn't appear to like the feeling: keeps adjusting his clothes and fidgeting. He always has so much energy, especially when he's nervous.
"Remind me, how long does our date need to last?" He asks Penny a little louder, so that I can hear it. (Our date. I'll never get used to this.)
"The paparazzi don't need much time to take the pictures," Penny replies mechanically. She always has everything planned out, which is nice, because Fiona's more into chaotic outbursts. "But there will be people at the restaurant, and you need to convince them as well, so about an hour."
"Holy shit," I chuckle. "That's fifty-five minutes of silence after Snow runs out of topics."
"Could you cut it out?!" Snow and Bunce say together. They really are birds of a feather, the two of them.
"Okay, okay, policemen," I shrug. "Anyway, we're almost there, Snow, so you can start looking like you're madly in love with me."
This makes Snow a little flustered, which sets off a tiny firework in my stomach. "I thought we were only in the talking stage," he says, half jokingly, half genuinely concerned.
"Well, maybe I'm just irresistible like that."
"Maybe it's time for you to get out of the car, because we're here," Bunce interferes, like a killjoy she is.
I sigh and pull up at the parking spot. The restaurant is across the road from us. I still can't believe this whole situation is real.
I get out, then go to Snow's door and open it for him, then hold out my hand.
"Ready for our first date, sweetie?"
Snow frowns at me. I don't know why I called him sweetie that first time back at the hotel, but it seemed to confuse him, so I kept going. There's no bigger pleasure for me than making Snow confused.
"You don't have to do this, you know," he tells me.
I lean onto the door. "Then I can tell you to get out of the fucking car, you dumbass."
"Not this either. You could try to... I don't know, be normal."
Be normal. What the hell could this even mean for the son of Natasha Pitch?
"Okay, Snow," I sigh. "Show me normal."
He holds my hand and gets out of the car.
"You got it, you two," Bunce says. "I'll be waiting here, call me if something goes wrong."
Snow gives her a thumbs up and closes the door, all while still holding my hand. His is very warm, like he's been holding a cup of tea this entire time.
"Let's get going," Snow says with a soft, genuine smile. He looks so awkward, charmingly awkward. It's exactly what we need - the world's greatest actor wouldn't be able to smile so shyly yet sincerely. That's just the way Simon Snow is. And to think this smile is directed at me... He's never been like this with me. He's usually so rough around the edges, always in motion, always trying to be one step ahead of my plan even when I don't actually have one. He clearly doesn't know what to do with himself now that he can't attack me publically.
We set off. The crosswalk seems so much longer than it is.
"Should I be looking at you or...?" Snow asks, as if he isn't the one with more relationship experience.
"I'd prefer you to look at the road to make sure we're not getting hit by a car anytime soon."
"I thought you'd be happy if I died."
"Absolutely not! I'd have to be in mourning, which means no more floral shirts for at least a few months."
"Happy to know you have your priorities set straight."
"The only straight thing about me."
"Didn't know you could crack jokes!"
"Well, you're the joke in this relationship, Snow."
Now we're standing by the front door of the restaurant, Simon's hand still in mine. For a second I allow myself to pretend this is real, that Simon Snow would ask me out on a date. That he would want to be with a guy. That he would want to be with me.
"Any more insults you'd like to say before we enter?" he says. Not a typical thing you'd say on a date, but I'll take it.
"About eleven thousand, but we don't have time. We should be there flirting by the window in three minutes."
"Then lead the way," he nods.
We enter, I go to approve our reservation. I was the one to make it because Snow doesn't know shit about restaurants. He doesn't know shit about anything posh, really. I was raised into money and he was thrown into it, aged about twelve. Makes sense that he still goes to a McDonald's.
The host, who turned out to be a huge fan of mine, leads us to the table. She asks for a picture, I agree, smiling at her. I like meeting fans, even in situations like this one. I think it's pretty amazing that people really listen to me whining about Snow and conflicted relationships with my family.
"Unbelievable," Snow says as soon as she leaves. "You're actually capable of being nice to people."
"I'm nice to most people, stupid. I already told you, Snow, you're special. You're my sworn enemy."
"And what do sworn enemies usually talk about on dates?"
"This is it," aunt Fiona tells me through the earbud I have put on, hidden behind my hair. "Ask him about Dave!"
I wouldn't be a Pitch if I didn't at least try to plot against Snow, would I? Even if Fiona didn't ask me to let her eavesdrop, I would've probably done something to mess with him anyway. I have a huge crush on him, obviously, but he really is my sworn enemy.
"What're you gonna be up to when The Insiduous Humdrum is out?" I ask him, trying to not sound suspicious. "Did Cadwallader already involve you in another one of his projects?"
"Yeah, he kinda did... Not another Mage movie, thankfully - though he's planning on a prequel. There's this slasher movie from the nineties, and he wants to reboot it."
"Hope he'll have you play the killer," I say, tilting my head.
"Would love to see you covered in blood."
(Seeing him covered in blood would probably make me drool at the movie theater.)
"Ask him what's the movie called!" Fiona whispers in my ear.
"By the way, which slasher are you talking about?"
Suddenly Snow looks at me in a funny way. With a smile that's probably intended to be malicious, but can only be called so with a stretch. Maliciousness is not his strong suit.
"Why're you looking at me like that?" I ask, sensing something wrong.
"No reason, sweetie," he says. Did he just steal my used-in-an-offensive-way pet name? (Simon Snow just called me a pet name. Chills over my body.) "You're just so beautiful. Especially your hair."
Then - fuck - he reaches out his hand to tuck a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. I'm too gay for this. It's too late when I understand what he's actually doing. Tilting my head made him see the earbud. He removes it from my ear and then for some reason takes my hand.
Snow's hands are still so warm. The earbud is clenched in his right fist. He puts my hand over it. Then puts his left hand over mine so that I can feel the grip he has on the earbud.
Then he tightens the grip.
He leans closer to me and speaks quietly. "Turn this thing off right now. Or I'll fucking crash it in my hand."
I want him so bad I'm going to pass out.
"Didn't know you had it in you, Snow," I smile, trying to look cool. "Alright, I'll do it."
He releases the grip. I hold the earbud in my hand and say in it:
"Sorry, Fiona, mission cancelled. Snow surprised me by having an actual working brain."
"What a pity!" I hear her reply as I turn it off.
"I knew it!" Snow says triumphially. "I knew you were gonna scheme!"
"Too bad you can't tell anyone," I shrug. "What could you even say, «My fake boyfriend tried to steal information from me on our PR date»?"
"I don't have to tell anyone," he replies. He's becoming nervous again - keeps fiddling with the fabric of his jeans. "It's just nice to know I'm right. Also, now you have to tell me a secret plan of your family so that we're even!"
"How about: Fiona's going to direct my next music video?"
"I don't think it's true."
"It isn't. We're already all finished. It's coming out in like a month."
Jeans again. I'm starting to think it's not a nervous habit - and then realise I'm right. I see his phone peeking out of his pocket. The screen is on. He's calling someone.
That sneaky bastard did me back.
How do I access his pocket? I have an idea, but it's truly insane. But something I've learnt in the last few weeks is that sometimes crazy ideas work out just fine.
"Be right back," I tell Snow.
I watch his confused face as I walk up to the man playing the piano and whisper in his ear. As I walk back to our table, I can hear the opening chords to No One Can Hurt You playing behind my back.
"May I have this dance?" For the second time today, I hold out my hand to Simon Snow.
"What the fuck," he says.
"Should be your catchphrase."
He takes my hand - can't refuse in public. I try not to think about it as a romantic gesture. We're just close. We've been close to each other so many times in the last seven years.
But I just can't. I can't think straight (make all the stupid puns you want) when Snow's hand is in mine. His other hand is on my chest. It's warm. And a little heavy. His fingers touch my collarbone. He's looking in my eyes, trying to desipher what my intentions are without tackling me on the table.
I try to stay on the task. (And also not to sweat.) I've got my hand on Snow's waist. Making sure that no one is looking, I let go and slide my fingers into his pocket, where he keeps the phone. (Did I technically just get into Snow's pants? Fucking finally. I'm mentally high-fiving my puberty-fueled past self.) I hold the phone to look at the screen. Just like I thought - Bunce on the line.
"And you dared to accuse me of scheming," I whisper to Snow.
"I only did it because I knew you were gonna do it," he averts his eyes.
"Doesn't matter. I believe we can handle this on our own," now I speak directly into the phone. "Bye-bye, Bunce."
I slip the phone back into Snow's pocket.
"Very rude to be on the phone during the first date, you know?" I tell him. Now both my hands are on his waist and his are closed behind my neck.
"Very rude to have your auntie spy on your date!"
"Let's call it even," I say as the song ends. I walk him back to our table.
"I know why you're doing this," Snow says, sitting down. For a second, my insides freeze as I think that he knows about the big fat crush I have on him. Seconds later, I'm relieved to find out he doesn't: "You want to find out about Mage Studios' plans. And I want to find out about Pitch Records'."
If there's one thing I can count on, it's Snow's thickness. But also, his sincerity. He continues:
"Let's compromise. Tell each other one secret. And that's it."
"Sounds good to me."
"Then you tell first."
"Okay," I lean back in my chair. "Fiona wants to go deeper into filmmaking. She says it can't be that difficult if Cadwallader's good at it. Niall's working on his next project, and she's pressuring him into making it into a visual album."
"She's wrong," Snow says. "Filmmaking's pretty fucking hard. I had a whole team helping me with Humdrum, but still left the set exhausted every day."
"I've been trying to tell her that for so long," I reply. "But that woman's unstoppable when she does something out of spite."
"I really get it, man. Penny is the same. When she gets an idea, you've just gotta follow her and hope it's good... It usually is good."
"I dunno," I shrug. "Spying on our conversation through a phone call doesn't sound that good to me."
"Once again, you started it!" Snow blurts out, but he doesn't seem mad - moreso just friendly. "But I'm glad you're playing by the rules now. My secret is... Mr. Cadwallader recently signed a contract with Nicodemus Petty. He'll be starring in his next film - it's an action movie, I think?"
"No way!" I laugh. "Fiona's gonna be pissed!"
"Why though?"
I lean closer to him with a playful smile. "She has a crush on him!"
"Wait, really?" His eyes go wide. "I can kind of see it. Though it'll probably end up a disaster."
"Oh, it definitely will. I guess having shit taste in men is a family thing," I say before I think about the consequences.
"I don't think Colin was that bad."
Bless Snow's obviousness. I completely forgot Colin existed.
"He wasn't. He was just... Nothing. Like the colour gray of boyfriends."
"I like the colour gray!" he exclaims suddenly, as if it's a surprise to him himself.
"Do you?"
"Yeah. It's really dreamy, I think. And like...watercolour, or something."
"It's because you have no taste either."
"Well, what's your favourite colour?"
I think for a second. Snow's blood spilling out of his nose. Wings on his costume, so sharp and neat.
"Red, probably."
"Should've guessed!" he says, looking at my shirt.
It's so easy talking to Snow. I had no idea it would be that easy. And good. Being around Simon feels so good. There's no discomfort or awkwardness - I guess there's no place for it when you're being someone's nemesis, and then their fake boyfriend, and now what? I don't know. But I like this change. I was wrong before - it feels like we're never going to run out of topics. The hour flies by. I find myself wishing for us to be like this forever.
But then, the bubble breaks as Snow looks at his phone screen and says:
"Uh, should we go now? It's been almost an hour and a half."
"Yes. Sure."
We pay for the food (Snow's pretending he's paying for me, but we're actually splitting) and wave to the host as we leave. She's aggressively typing on her phone. Probably spreading the news, which means it's all going according to the plan.
(I hate thinking that it's just a plan.)
We walk back, still holding hands. I feel like Snow's gotten a bit more confident. He's holding me just a little tighter. I bet he can feel the vein on the back of my hand.
The cars are stopping to let us cross the road. (Does no one care about people's safety enough to install a traffic light?) There's an especially rowdy one honking at us. The driver sticks his head out of the window and yells out:
"Hurry up, you stupid fucking nepo baby! You'll never be Natasha!"
And I freeze.
Of course I'll never be Natasha Pitch. There will never be another Natasha Pitch ever again. And I get that it's stupid and really fucking pathetic that I'm even trying to make music - because after her, no matter what I make, it will be a disappointment. She was a true star, the kind of people legends are written about. And I'm a stupid boy who likes to whine about my stupid hopeless crush. When me and Dad had a fight, he said Mum would've hated me if she found out I like men. Honestly, she would've hated me for everything else as well, and I don't know why I'm even still trying since I could never-
Simon wraps his arm around my shoulders.
Reality hits me in the face like he once did on the set when he found out I sent him a fake note from Agatha. Turns out, I froze in the middle of the road. Just for a few seconds, but enough for Simon to feel that something's not right.
"Why don't you fuck off and go on about your pathetic little life?!" He shouts, raising a middle finger at the driver that yelled at me. He pulls me a little closer (arm still around me) and pushes forward, wordlessly asking me to move.
And I move. And I carry on.
"That guy's such a dick!" Snow exclaims as we safely step on the other side of the road. "Some people are just obsessed with those they don't even know!"
I'm still a little shellshocked.
"He's right. I'll never be my mum."
"Of course you won't! But why would you even want to be her? Why would you want to be someone else?! You're pretty fucking cool just the way you are!" Simon, in his righteous fury, must not understand that he's showering his mortal enemy with compliments. He looks like a knight defending his prince. Or a king defending his country. That's why I fell in love with him. He's so kind, so bright - brighter than the sun. All we've given each other was pain and struggle, but there he is, by my side. And I'm supposed to use him for information. And I'm supposed to despise him.
"This is so stupid," I say out loud.
"What?"
Simon is so, so good. It feels so nice to be by his side, not against him.
"Let's make a truce."
"Once again, what?" He looks at me with genuine curiosity.
"Your sentences don't align."
"I know all of this is just another reason for Mage Studios and Pitch Records to get in each other's way. But between the two of us... Let's make everything clear. No more scheming. Or backstabbing. No matter what our teams say."
I know he's not going to believe me. He'll think that it's a plan, that I'm trying to get closer to him to betray him. I think he might as well tackle me out in broad daylight now that the date is over.
But you know what is my favourite thing about Simon Snow? He always manages to surprise me.
After a few seconds of stunned silence, he says:
"Thank God you said that! It was so nice, just talking to you today. I liked it so much better than fighting."
"Really?"
"Yes. It's very relaxing, not trying to desipher what your next step is gonna be. Truce, you say?" he hold out his hand to shake mine.
"Truce, Snow," I shake it.
"Simon."
"Huh?"
"Please call me Simon. Now that we're friends, I guess."
"I didn't say we're friends," I smile at him. "I'm no longer working against you... But I still think you're a complete loser."
"I'll take my win," he smiles back.
"Let's go, Simon," I take his hand and walk back to the car.
"Fuck yeah!"
"Don't get used to it. It's only for special occasions."
kn1gh7ofbr347h on Chapter 2 Sat 23 Aug 2025 03:32AM UTC
Comment Actions
moxidi on Chapter 2 Sun 24 Aug 2025 10:04PM UTC
Comment Actions
Navy (Guest) on Chapter 2 Sat 23 Aug 2025 07:56PM UTC
Comment Actions
moxidi on Chapter 2 Sun 24 Aug 2025 10:04PM UTC
Comment Actions