Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Luka felt hollow.
Missouri was so fucking hot in late June. It felt like a swamp. It was so humid, and Michael kept trying to lie on top of him, smothering Luka with twenty-five pounds of fluff. But it was fine.
Really, it was fine.
August was aware when Luka landed a few weeks ago of everything that had happened online. By the time Luka got his suitcase through the door and collapsed on the couch, he was so tired he said he didn’t want to talk about it.
He’d fallen asleep right there, then continued not to move, other than to go to the downstairs office for work or to sit at the coffee table in front of the sofa to work on his comic like it would kill him if he stopped.
Something about sleeping in his own bed and spending time in his bedroom felt like giving up. It wasn’t his room anymore.
August gave him emotional space for a while, tiptoeing around him as they picked up his messes in the living room, watching C-dramas next to him on the couch without asking if Luka wanted to, and handing him bowls of pasta, forcing him to eat. But they didn’t make him talk.
Luka hadn’t been sure what to say anyway.
Three weeks after coming home, he’d woken up to August sitting on the floor, their back against the couch as they typed away at something on their phone.
And the memory of Reno, asleep on his arms, half on the couch, watching over Luka while he was sick, hit him like a knife to the chest, and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
August had listened quietly while Luka cried, explaining everything that had come after the harassment: the broken trust, the rejection of Luka’s offer to help, the way Reno had refused to tell the world they were together.
It felt like pulling teeth out of his own mouth to admit how he’d managed to ruin Reno’s life, and how frustrated he was that Reno wouldn’t fix it with him, and that maybe Reno was right and Luka didn’t understand anything about how the music industry or being famous worked.
By the time he got around to admitting to August that he wasn’t sure if he’d made the right choice to come home, he’d run out of tears. He felt empty.
He went quiet, curled in on himself in his pajamas on the couch, and August took their time before responding. Eventually, they stood and started pacing.
Luka waited, doing what he could to steady his breathing. He was so tired, down to his bones, and everything ached.
“You’re both idiots.”
Luka flinched.
August stopped pacing and crossed their arms, looking down at him on the couch.
“You did that man a massive disservice by leaving like that. I get it. I do. Your response honestly is pretty reasonable, given what you experienced, but leaving Reno alone to deal with all of this by himself while you hide away here on the couch is…” They trailed off with a grunt. “I love you, but that was cowardly.”
“Harsh.”
“Sometimes you need a friend to be harsh, dude. You got a thick skull. I know you tried to be there for him, and he did manage to push you away, but like, you said he’s been through this before, right?
He’s used to doing this alone, or at least, not with the help of a partner.
But I’ve listened to you talk about how you and Reno are when you’re together, way too much for this to be the end. ”
“What’s that mean?” Luka scowled at August.
August huffed and said, “You straight up told me Reno’s used to getting everything he wants if he just works really hard.
He’s doing that. He’s working hard to get what he wants and is so used to doing things alone to make things happen that I’m unsure if he knows how to let someone, especially a romantic partner, help him at all.
Seems like he's so used to being in charge of his own life that he’s not seeing how taking control of the situation is harming you too.
” They paused and took a breath before saying, “And then there’s you. You never get what you want.”
“Again, harsh.”
“Shut up. I mean that since you’re used to things going wrong, you let go. It's a self-preservation technique, man. It's understandable. But right now it's not helpful.”
Luka fidgeted with the tag on his collar, rubbing his thumb over the engravings on it. He didn’t have the strength to take it off, even if he had ‘let go’ like August was saying. He didn’t know what that said about him; hopeless loser, maybe?
“He wouldn’t let me be helpful,” Luka finally said.
“Yeah, which was shitty. But do you really think it's a ‘blow up my otherwise perfect relationship’ level of shitty, though?” August shook their head. “You’re gonna fight sometimes, and you’re gonna have to learn to talk to each other about hard shit.
I think you need to call Reno and explain to him just what he did. ”
“I don’t know what to say to him.” Luka tugged on the tag, feeling helpless. “It’s not like he’s reached out to me either. I don’t know why I have to be the one to break the ice.”
“You can start with an ‘I’m sorry.’ That’s usually a pretty good place.
” August walked back over to the couch and slumped down into it.
“Don’t make that face at me, bro. I’m not saying this is all your fault.
It’s not all your fault. Neither of you is fully in the wrong here, and placing the blame on you or him would be useless.
I’m saying that now that things have happened, you’re both being kind of fucking stupid. ”
“He’s not.”
“Yeah, he is,” August bit back. “He owes you an apology, too.
He messed up by not looping you into what was going on and not trusting you to deal with things with his help.
Because of that, you both handled things like shit.
Look, we can sit here all day and point fingers at you and him for different things, but that's not useful. He should have contacted you, even if it was just to make sure you were home safe.”
Luka frowned. “They probably thought it was best to give me space. I sort of asked for it. Now I don’t know if he’s giving me space or if we’re just over.”
“Ridiculous," August said. “One of you needs to call the other.”
Luka stopped playing with the guitar pick and leaned back against the couch’s armrest, tucking himself under a thin blanket just to feel covered. When it became apparent he wasn’t going to say anything else, August sighed and got back up.
“I’m getting a slush from Sonic. Text me what you want. You need to eat. When I get back, you better be upright again.”
“Sure,” Luka replied, barely cracking an eye open to watch as they left. As soon as the door closed and Luka heard August’s Jeep start up, he slid down the couch and curled into himself.
Why was it up to Luka to text Reno first?
He didn’t know if anyone had tried to reach him over social media; he’d deleted all his accounts after the second week of being back.
He didn’t want to see updates on anything anymore.
All the wild speculations, the rumors, the way they kept dragging him back into everything, even though he’d bowed out.
He saw a photo of Reno’s sisters from a beach trip being shared around, and the lewd things people were saying about them made him feel so sick to his stomach that he deleted everything right then and there.
They had his phone number, anyway. It wasn’t like they couldn’t reach him. And, while Luka didn’t expect any of Reno’s friends to reach out to him after he’d basically walked out on Reno, he still flinched every time his phone vibrated.
Xavier
Heard you were back in town
Luka rubbed his eyes. What the fuck did Xavier even want? He hadn’t thought about him in months, and they’d only slept together twice last winter.
Xavier
What do you want.
So cold. I was seeing if u were busy tonight. Situationship didn't exactly pan out.
Oh so you ghosted me for a new fling, then when that went wrong you texted me? Do I have that right?
Luka watched the ‘…’ pop up a few times before losing his patience.
Xavier
Lose my fucking number.
Then he blocked him. Luka felt sick to his stomach, mostly because when his phone buzzed, he’d dared to hope it was Reno texting him. To get Xavier instead was a cruel joke. Life was making fun of him; he just knew it.
He opened up his chat with Reno and stared at the name at the top.
Hikaru
He didn’t deserve to know that name, have it in his phone, or wear it around his neck.
He closed the messaging app with a sigh and put his phone on his chest. He’d only had his eyes closed for a few minutes before his phone started to ring with an incoming call.
When he flipped it over to see who it was, he took a sharp breath.
Private Number
Luka’s heart jumped into his throat. “Who?” He murmured, feeling his palms grow clammy instantly.
It could have been spam, but a private number calling him was so much stranger than a random 1-800 number.
Fear shot through him as he watched the call end.
There were too many people who could potentially have his number—a crazy fan, a reporter, Joy—that Luka immediately ignored the call when it came through a second time.
August slammed the door closed using their foot, then dropped the bags of fast food on the coffee table.
“You didn’t tell me what you wanted, so you got a cheeseburger and tots. I expect you to eat it all. Wait, why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
The private number appeared on his screen again, and his phone rang in his hand. He turned it for August to see, and they raised an eyebrow.
“Do you want me to answer that?”
“Yes.” Luka handed the phone to them, grateful that August was ten times braver than him.
“This is August," they answered in their most customer service voice possible, “May I ask who is calling?”
A pause, then August’s jaw dropped. They swallowed and said, “Hold-hold on a moment.”
They put the phone on mute and said, “It's T-yan.”
“What the fuck?” Luka shot upright on the couch so fast he got a little dizzy. “Why is he calling me of all people?”