50. Kieran
KIERAN
Producer: “So, you admitted—or Jace admitted—that he hated you because of your self-expression when you were growing up. How did that impact you? Will you elaborate?”
Kieran: “No.”
Of all the things I thought I might be doing on this show, hanging out in the kitchen, doing Jace’s makeup, was not on the list. And yet he’s sitting here, blindly trusting me to make him look good for millions of people to see while being so cool about it.
Everything he does seems to make it harder to merge the version of Jace in my mind from the past with the JR I was falling for last week and this new version of Jace before me now.
I can’t help but think about how people always argue over whether or not someone can change. Some say people can’t—that who they were when they were young, who they were in their worst moments, is who they really are. Maybe that’s true for some people.
But—my very complicated feelings for Jace aside—I think most of us just don’t know what we don’t know, especially when we’re young.
We do the best we can with what’s in front of us until life cracks the door open and shows us there’s more.
And once we’ve seen more, once we know more and actually want to do better, we can’t go back to the narrow box we were stuck in before.
I grew up with supportive parents who I knew would always love me, and with Olivia, who—other than during our big fight—was there to hype me up and remind me that not everyone was as close-minded as the people who judged me.
I even grew up with the internet to learn about makeup, being queer, and all the things I didn’t know before.
I don’t think Jace had any of those things.
His parents kicked him out for being attracted to men, and he never got into the details with me back then, but I don’t think his home life was great.
His dad was an asshole. His teammates were assholes.
I think I even remember him saying something about not being able to look up anything about his sexuality because he couldn’t risk his parents seeing it on their shared computer.
The Jace I’m looking at now has obviously changed. He’s someone who’s experienced more, seen more, chosen more than the scared teenager I used to know. He’s someone who isn’t locked inside that old version of himself because he’s had the ability to freely explore who he is.
It’s just so hard for me to move on when I’ve spent so many years hating that version.
I bring my attention back to the camera, trying to keep my voice light, keep my posture perfect, and keep my smile in place for the camera. But every time he laughs, or worse, calls me a sweet pet name, I feel myself slipping. Forgetting that we’re supposed to be pretending because of my own rules.
Because Jace has always been the exception.
This feels more real and more intimate than anything I’ve ever done.
Jace isn’t polished, he doesn’t have the perfectly curated online presence or practiced charm I usually surround myself with.
He’s honest in a way that makes me feel like he sees right through every layer of branding I’ve created under the nickname he gave me.
And instead of finding something to exploit, he genuinely likes what he sees.
He’s not sitting here thinking about his own gain or if this could help him gain followers for his own channel.
He’s simply doing this to bring some joy to our afternoon.
It’s fun, and that’s disarming. Because, sadly, I can’t remember the last time I did something purely for my own enjoyment that wasn’t intended to be content.
I glance at him, with his head of curly brown hair tilted back, and his lips slightly parted as he waits for me to finish blending.
Today is showing me a whole new vulnerable side of Jace I didn’t know existed—and it’s adding another layer to the already conflicting feelings I have.
And hate isn’t one of them. Not even close.
“Almost done,” I mutter as my hand lingers at the corner of his jaw, and I stare at his now shiny lips. The urge to kiss him is getting stronger, but I shake that thought off.
I lean back and take in the finished look. The golden shimmer across his lids that makes his honey-brown eyes truly sparkle. It shouldn’t work with his beard, the rough masculinity of him, but somehow it does.
I’d only brushed a light coat of mascara through his lashes to make them darker, and they frame the gold perfectly.
I skipped liner because he doesn’t need it—and because putting the mascara on was challenging enough for someone who’s never worn it before.
Instead, I smudged a little bronze at the corners to deepen the edges.
It’s not overly dramatic, but you can tell he’s wearing makeup and, God help me, it suits him well. Too well.
“Ready to see the final look?” I prompt him.
“Hell yeah.”
I walk him toward the mirror, and his whole face lights up before he even steps in front of it.
Then he actually looks.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, his grin stretching wide. He turns his head from side to side, leaning in close to the glass. “I look… good. Don’t I?” He laughs almost in a bashful way, but he doesn’t stop staring at himself.
There’s no mockery in it, just genuine awe and a little surprise at his own reflection. His fingers hover near his eyes, careful not to smudge. “I can’t believe that’s me.”
And maybe he’s hamming it up, maybe this is another layer of his easy charm, but I don’t think so. It feels real.
And I like it.
“You do look good. I kind of love this look on you. I think it might be one of my favorites I’ve ever done,” I admit, smiling at him.
“Thank you, K. You’re so talented; I’ll never stop being impressed by you,” he says in the most genuine voice, and my brain is trying to tell my stomach to stop doing somersaults at his words of affirmation, but that command is getting lost along the way.
I feel like I’m losing control. He’s breaking my walls down so easily, and that can’t happen. I have to protect myself here. I can’t fall for someone who already broke my heart.
But I think I’m done pretending I hate him.
“Well, that’s all for today, folks! Be sure to like and subscribe. I’m going to go enjoy my boyfriend’s beautiful face now, bye!” I say before shutting off the only camera I’m allowed to touch.
Knowing we’re still being recorded, I turn to Jace and smile. “Well, that was fun, huh?”
“Yeah,” he says, his grin softening. “It was. I’m so happy you asked me.
Getting to see you in action makes my heart feel…
bigger or something, like it’s bursting with how proud I am.
I’m seeing the version of you that you were always meant to share with the world, and somehow, I get a front-row seat. ”
“Thanks, J. We can go take that off now if you want.”
“What? No!” He practically shouts, and I’m shocked he actually wants to keep wearing it.
“Okay, okay, I guess tonight I’ll have to introduce you to my skin-care routine before bed then.” I laugh, and he just beams at me.
“I’d really like that.”
The rest of the day goes by quickly. We attempt some more cross-stitching as I educate Jace on the other reality shows he’s missed, and before I realize it, we’re ready to wash our faces for bed.
Jace is in the bathroom with me, watching as I take out my products for bed.
The last few nights, I locked myself in here without him, but he’s really about to see everything.
Though he’s probably seen me go through this in my content before.
“You weren’t kidding when you said skincare, huh?” He looks overwhelmed by the number of products I’ve set out for us, and I would never tell him, but his reluctance is kind of adorable.
“Nope, this face doesn’t just happen, you know. It’s a whole system.”
“Guess I’m about to find out,” he says with a laugh.
“You sure are.” I hand him a gentle makeup remover to start. “Put this on, it’ll help get the makeup off your skin first, then we’ll cleanse next.”
He does what I say, going through the same routine as me, following my lead.
“Now we apply a toner and serum. And of course, moisturize to hydrate and replenish your skin.”
“Hydrate and replenish? You sound like you are talking about a sponsor right now.” He laughs.
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “Sometimes it just kind of comes out, but seriously, don’t knock it until you try it. This’ll have your skin glowing.”
“Fine, fine, I want to glow too,” he jokes as he rubs the serum across his cheeks. “How do I look now?” He props his chin on his hands and bats his lashes as he faces me.
I snort a laugh and swallow the lump in my throat at how good he does look. “Exactly like you’re supposed to. Now come on, let’s brush our teeth and go to bed.”
We make our way into the bedroom, and each climb into bed on our sides. Jace turns to me the second we’re under the covers.
“Today was a lot of fun,” he says.
“Yeah,” I agree, because it was.
He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at me. “So… did I do better today? Do I get a reward?”
I snort at the insinuation. “Hell no. Even if we were going to hook up again—which we’re not—you succeeded in leaving me sore. Stay the hell away from my ass,” I say with a small laugh and absolutely no heat.
“That’s fine,” he says casually. “I prefer to bottom anyway.”
I whip my head toward him. “No, you don’t.”
“Uh, yeah, I do…?” His voice sounds convincing, but I don’t get it because…
“There’s no way you fucked me like that, and you’re telling me you’d rather bottom?”
He chuckles, face breaking out into a huge grin. “I’m flattered you think I’m so good, and trust me, no complaints on my end, I had a fantastic time. But, yeah, that was my first time topping a man in a long time.”
I shake my head again, feeling even more confused by all the layers of this man I’m trying to fit together. “I can’t believe you’re telling me you pulled that off like a pro and you haven’t done it in years,” I mutter, unable to hold back the compliment in my confusion.