Chapter 1 #3
He’d been so close to the stage. He didn’t think about it at the time, just happy to be part of the experience.
But now his face, his goddamn hair, stood out clearly from the hundreds of people in the audience.
Oh, god, it was a terrible photo of him in contrast to the band in the front, looking beautiful as always as they grouped together, smiling.
He opened his text app to Jay again and scrolled up to look at the photo he’d sent. It was the same one as on Reno’s account.
JAY
this is a terrible photo of me
youre like a centimeter tall bro. i'm shocked you can be seen at all, shortass.
but, focus! Reno is asking for you!!
Luka clicked on the post and sure enough, there it was, Reno asking for him by name.
Luka started to hyperventilate and Michael meowed at him before pushing his way onto Luka’s lap.
Luka moved the laptop and snapped it closed, taking the noise of its fans with it, and put his phone face down on the bed.
He lay back against the pillows, holding his cat to his chest. This couldn’t be real.
Of course Luka remembered smoking that cigarette out back of that shit hole venue ten years ago.
But he was a fan.
Surely he was just a drop in the flood of hundreds of thousands, especially since Voltage had then grown a worldwide audience with a cult-like following.
VIP tickets went for nearly a thousand dollars, people haggled over photo cards of the members worth hundreds, the official accounts online for each band member pushed over one million followers on every platform and were growing all the time.
Reno’s account had broken four million followers last month.
Luka met someone special when he was fifteen and thought about it fondly from time to time.
Reno had been nice, open, and as much as it sucked in the moment, Luka appreciated how fast Reno left when he found out how young Luka had been.
So yeah, nice, open, respectful, bisexual man in a time and place where that was a much worse thing to be than it was now.
But that was Luka remembering Reno— there wasn’t a chance in hell that the memory flowed both ways. He’d been to their concerts between then and now, too. Why had he been spotted this time?
Wait, how did Reno even recognize him? They’d met ten years ago, and he looked a lot different now, other than the pink hair, which had been a staple since that night. People from his high school didn’t even recognize him when they bumped into him on the street.
JAY
Theres no way. this has to be a joke.
brother it is not a joke.
if it is, idk why its being made
how would he even recognize me? I don't look the same
I hate to break it to you, but you've always looked like a twink lol
I think i was wearing a skirt back then.
he's wearing a skirt in this pic I don't think a man whose been in drag 90% of his life gives two shits about what you wore ten years ago.
you know what i mean. I don't look like a girl anymore.
You look as much like a cunt as Reno does.
Fuck off.
what do i do?
the fuck you mean?
REPLY TO HIM.
Isn't this like, a weird fantasy of yours?
Exactly. A fantasy.
doesn't mean i wanna live it fr. I don't actually know him. What if hes a dick? and what would someone like that even want with someone like me?
ridiculous.
Someone like you? You mean a total hottie. Right? God's perfect transgender twink?
you don't have to b nice to me because im having a crisis.
Luka threw his phone across the room. What if he just went downstairs to work, made breakfast, went on a walk, and never checked the internet ever again?
He moved Michael off his chest with only a bit of protest and resigned himself to trying to have a normal day.
Maybe he could just turn off his phone. He could work from his desktop, unplug the wifi router, then stop paying the bill altogether.
He got up and stretched, ignored Michael’s mewing for food, and took his hair out of its braid to brush it and try to act normal for a few minutes.
His shirt clung to his back, and his palm felt too hot around the brush’s handle.
Maybe he should try to shower, but he knew that with anxious sweats like this, there was no getting past it until he dealt with the problem at hand or forgot about it.
He couldn’t spend all day in the shower. He had things to do.
He put food in Michael’s bowl and reminded him not to eat it too fast. He had his own breakfast of eggs, Red Bull, and a cigarette while sitting on his front door step as he watched a bird roll in the bath out front.
So what if Reno was trying to find him? There was no need to disrupt his admittedly boring, but pleasant life just because an extremely beautiful celebrity called out for him.
He tipped the cigarette to knock ash off of it and took one last long drag before stamping it out, the image of his foot and Reno’s overlapping for a moment as if he was still there, ten years ago.
“Damn it. God damn it.” His hands were so sweaty. He stormed back inside, the glass door rattling in its frame when he slammed it closed. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” August peeked their head around the corner from the kitchen, their curls looking especially frizzy. “Why you slamming doors?”
“My life is one giant shit-show,” Luka replied. “I’m almost out of cigarettes, my computer is going to give up on me, and an international celebrity made a post on Twitter specifically asking if anyone knew who and where I was.”
“Excuse me?” August’s face twisted, an eyebrow shooting up, one eye closing more than the other, their lips parting awkwardly.
It would be funny if Luka weren’t two seconds away from the world’s biggest panic attack.
“What? Luka, hey. Oh my god, dude.” August rushed over and forced Luka to sit down on the futon.
Their broad hands gripped his shoulders so he wouldn’t run away.
Michael chose that moment to dart into the room and scratch the cat tower and Luka watched him, envious that Michael had no idea what Twitter even was.
“Breathe, baby," August reminded him.
“I'm breathing," Luka gasped, realizing belatedly he probably hadn’t been breathing. “I’m breathing, okay. Back off a bit.”
August took their hands off of Luka and sat on the futon next to him. They waited it out, letting Luka breathe for a while before trying again. “What’s going on?”
“I have like, millions of notifications on Twitter.”
“Don’t you only have a few hundred followers?”
Luka nodded and August hummed. He continued, “Jay texted me.”
“Ew.”
“Shush, he texted me that apparently, of all people in the world, Reno is asking for me.”
“Isn’t that the guy from that one band you like that you explained to me?” August’s brown eyes went wide before they said, “You have his photo card on your backpack.”
“Don’t remind me.” Luka tugged on the end of his hair before plaiting it then watching it unravel. “It’s embarrassing. Like, I could never befriend someone whose photo I’ve had on my backpack dangling next to a charm of Prince Zuko for two years. I am not that strong.”
“Okay, yeah, that’s bad," August confirmed with a nod. “You should probably sell that photo card. Didn’t you say it was worth a few hundred bucks?”
“Wait, why should I sell it?”
“Aren’t you gonna respond?” August said, as if that was so simple. Luka looked at their precious, round face and tried to form a solid argument as to why he was refusing to reach out to Reno.
“I’m just…” he started, then tried again. “I’m so, I don’t know, normal? I can’t even get a following online for my art. I work from home for a bank. Even if I became friends with him, it would just be a constant reminder of my own average standing in the world.”
“I hate when you talk like that.” They took Luka’s hand and gripped it tightly.
Luka followed Michael’s path up the cat tree and to the top of the bookshelf but didn’t have the energy to scold him for being on top of the furniture.
“You’re anything but average.” August squeezed his hand then stood to grab Michael from the bookshelf before he could knock anything down again.
“You’re just undiscovered and have all the time in the world to find your own place.
One of these days the right person will find your art and you’ll be so flooded with commissions you’ll never have to pick up a phone again. ”
“Thanks.” Luka didn’t believe them, but appreciated the speech regardless.
“Want me to respond for you?” August suggested, dropping Michael on the futon before sitting down again.
“He has over four mil on there, I don’t think his DMs are open for anyone who he isn’t following.”
“Hm, go get me your phone. I bet he’s following you now.”
“I deleted Twitter from my phone.”
“Fine, weirdo. Laptop then.”
Luka got up, feeling fairly unsteady on his feet and went to get his laptop from his bedroom. He made a beeline for his phone, grabbing it from where it had landed on the carpet earlier.
JAY
if you dont respond i will flip out.
seriously man don't waste a golden chance like this
you could be living in the OD kidnapped me fic of ur dreams.
i don't like one direction.
stop being so literal.
Maria
so?
Yeah I donno. I guess i should respond.
Now do you believe me?
All these years tell you that man looked at you like he wanted to eat you. And you just thought I was being dramatic.
We were 15. You thought every gay man wanted to suck my dick. Which, thanks for being such an ally. I guess.
History has proven that I am correct.
girl, don't.
Tell me how it goes, xoxo
Luka clicked his phone off and got the laptop for August, then returned to the living room where they were eating an apple that had somehow appeared in the minute he was gone.
"Give it here.” August tossed the apple onto the coffee table, making Luka cringe, and reached for the laptop. They made a face once it was in their hands. “I forgot how heavy this thing is, Christ. Okay, what’s your password? Thanks so… Let's see here. Whoa, you were not kidding.”
“Told you.” Luka peeked at the screen and felt his anxiety spike through the roof. The notifications had reached over eight thousand.
“Oh.”
“You have so many DMs. Do you want me to go through them? Also, I’m shutting down your inbox now. This is crazy.”
Luka didn’t want to look at the screen. “I’ve never had to filter my inbox before. Never thought that would be a problem.”
“There, now only people you follow can message you.”
“Thanks.” He dared to look and immediately turned away, feeling nauseous. The sheer number of messages he had gotten was terrifying. “Put my account on private too; I’m begging.”
“Got it.” August clicked away then started scrolling. “Oh, here he is.”
“Wait, really?” Luka snatched the laptop and stared at the screen for all of two seconds before shutting it. “I can’t do this.”
“Sure, you can. Or I mean, I’ll do it for you.” August grabbed the laptop back and opened it. “Password again?” Luka reached over and typed it in, then promptly turned away from August. “Want me to read it to you?” they asked.
Luka sat for a moment, running his finger over a hangnail on his thumb and considered yanking it off even if it always made a bigger wound than if he just left it alone. “No," he said, then regretted it. “Yes.”
“Hey!” August started, sounding more chipper than Reno probably would but Luka wasn’t insane enough of a fan boy to correct them.
“I’m Reno! We met back in two thousand five.
I didn’t meet a lot of people on that tour, it was my first time in the states.
I thought of you many times. Want to come to my concert?
I have VIP pass for you if you want to catch up.
L.M.K. In all caps.” August paused and put a hand on Luka’s shoulder to force him to turn back to them.
“What do you wanna say? The concert is a few hours away in Columbia. I’ll drive. ”
“I can drive myself.” I thought of you. “Is that really what it says?”
August laughed. “Yes, and I don’t think you’ll wanna leave your car parked overnight there if you end up not driving home, if you catch my drift.”
Luka shuddered. “That won’t happen. There’s no way he wants that from me.”
“Okay, well I’m messaging back telling him to put me on the guest list because I’m driving you and you’re going.”
“Wait, what are you typing?” Luka was sweating through his t-shirt at this point and it wasn’t even that warm outside yet. “Please don’t make me a loser.”
“You could never be a loser. I said, ‘I'd like that, my friend can drive me. Will you put them on the guest list since the show is sold out?’”
“It’s sold out?”
“Yeah, I looked it up. I’m fast.” August smiled and it only helped take the edge off his panic slightly.
It was probably a good thing he wasn’t walking into this alone.
“Oh, he’s typing. He said, ‘Oh great, I can do that. Give me a name to put it under and they will be at will call.’ Hm, a bit too the point, but maybe he’s nervous too.
‘Luka Fischer.’ There, done.” August snapped the laptop closed.
“The notifications should calm down after a bit. But a word of advice: hide your hair under a beanie or something when you go to the show. Your selfies are on Twitter.”
“Shit.” He didn’t want to change his hair. He’d had the same color since he was fifteen. “Can I borrow one? I don’t know where mine is.”
“Whatever, brat. Sure. Show’s in two days, try to act normal until then. Oh, I sent him your WhatsApp number, too. Good luck!” August popped up from the futon and grabbed their apple from the table and keys from the wall. “Going to work— Bye!”
Everyone in Luka’s life was evil. He groaned into his hands, looking at the apple juice mess on the table and decided to leave his phone off for the next few days.