29. Ari

TWENTY-NINE

ARI

Wanting to be next to someone is not the same as needing them.

It’s something my therapist said during one of our last chats.

I told her I was worried I was slipping into old habits by sleeping next to Will every night, but she said it wasn’t the same, and that by continuing to work through my childhood trauma separately, I wasn’t entirely depending on Will to provide my only means of coping.

She also said that it’s okay to depend on Will, that it’s something partners do and part of being in a relationship.

With that in mind, I allow myself to both want and need Will’s comfort. I slip into the hallway, a small smile pulling at my lips when I see his door is open. Of course he was waiting for me, it shouldn’t be a surprise.

He’s awake. The dim light of his cell phone illuminates the worried creases of his face.

He doesn’t notice me right away, not until my knee sinks into the mattress at the bottom of his bed.

His gaze snaps to me, something like relief softening his eyes as he sets his phone on the nightstand, flips the edge of the duvet down, and opens his arms for me to come to him.

I crawl into the space, fitting myself against his side.

His body heat sinks into my skin, and the tension of the day bleeds out of me.

The light from his phone fades, then blinks away. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the dark.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come,” he says, his low voice not much more than a whisper in the darkness.

“I almost didn’t.”

“I was just about to text you to apologize. I didn’t mean to flinch away from you earlier. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just on edge and wasn’t expecting the contact.”

A soft sigh escapes me, a breath of relief, even if it only confirms what I already know. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but it… reminded me, I guess?”

He doesn’t say anything, only waits for me to gather my thoughts.

“You were right,” I say softly. His arm tightens around me, but I keep going.

“I wish things were different, but right now, this is bigger than us. Maybe if there wasn’t already so much going on with Jesse and the press nightmare, it wouldn’t be as bad.

But I can’t help thinking that us being together will only hurt the people we love in the long run. ”

Will takes a long, slow breath. “I don’t think the knowledge that we’re together will hurt them personally,” he clarifies. “I think Jesse and Naz and maybe even Blake would understand. But the public…”

“They’d twist it.”

“Yeah. Especially now. And with Jesse’s business spread all over the place the way it is, it’ll only prove their narrative that we’re immoral or whatever bullshit they’re trying to paint us as.”

My chest aches, my thoughts returning to the splintering feeling I’ve had since seeing Jesse react and break in the wake of his privacy being violated the way it was.

There’s no part of me that feels whole right now, and I can only imagine how much worse it must be for Jesse.

And to lose the one person who could have made it all worth it?

I’d break, too.

“I feel like we’re all spinning out of control. I’m second guessing everything now. I’m not even sure we should tell Jesse and Naz. I don’t know that anyone could handle anything else to worry about.”

“That’s the point.”

My head snaps up to look at him, even though it’s too dark to make out more than the outline of his body leaning back against the pillows. “What?”

“The constant surveillance, the huge show of opposition in our faces, the breach of privacy, the public shaming for something that no one else had the right to see… It’s all a coordinated attack.

A targeted hit to break us down from the inside out,” he says.

“Look at what it did to Jesse, the way he folded in on himself. I’d bet anything it won’t stop with the videos. ”

“What else could they do?”

“They’re going to pile on top of what they’ve already started, beat him down until he breaks completely or loses the benefit of public opinion.

They were probably ready to spin his reaction into something that suited their narrative.

The ambulance gave them the ammunition they needed to start rumors of an overdose.

My guess is next there will be some kind of leak from the hotel staff, real or not, to confirm their narrative. ”

“Sounds about right.” It wouldn’t be the first time the media has over-exaggerated anything to do with Jesse.

Once, a major tabloid magazine even printed pictures to prove that Jesse had destroyed a hotel room.

The pictures went viral, shared by mainstream news and entertainment publications.

Even after the pictures were proven to be fake and taken somewhere Jesse had never even been before, those rumors followed him.

Hotels still charge us more than the already exorbitant premiums to cover incidentals .

“If—when—they find out about Luc, my guess is they’ll make it out like Jesse was exploiting him.”

“The deviant corrupts the all-American football hero,” I say sardonically. “It would fit their platform.”

“Exactly.”

Painting certain groups of people as cunning or predatory is part of the conservative agenda playbook.

Religious leaders, politicians, and most of the conservative media ecosystem consistently frame women, people of color, and queer-identifying people as having hidden motives and intentionally tricking, grooming, or coercing the good people into our wicked ways.

Trans women want to use the bathroom? Obviously, they’re just pretending so they can attack women in public restrooms. That woman who actually got attacked by a cis straight man in a women’s restroom?

She’s lying. She led him on. Her skirt was short. She obviously just wants attention.

If Luc doesn’t stand next to Jesse for the oncoming onslaught of media attention, they’ll say Jesse used or exploited Luc, charmed or seduced him, or otherwise led him down a path that goes against his spotless reputation as a clean-cut, wholesome, manly football player that everyone fell in love with over a sheepish smile.

He’d never let a big, pierced dick in his ass, much less like it!

“I don’t want them to do that to you, too,” Will says quietly.

“You don’t need to protect me, Will. I don’t give a shit about what they say about me. I just don’t want to make it worse for the other guys. I don’t want to put more on their plates.”

“So we’ll keep it quiet for now, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I might have to have a talk with Scott.”

I shrug. “Doesn’t seem like he’s said anything yet.”

“True.”

“Will?”

“Hmm?” He hums, sliding us further down the pillows and pulling the duvet up around our shoulders.

“What do you think your breaking point would be?”

“What do you mean?”

“Whether the press knows it or not, the videos and rumors aren’t what’s breaking Jesse. It’s losing Luc that’s getting to him.”

“You want to know what would get to me if or when they pivot their attack?” Will asks.

“Yeah. You’re the next most recognizable face in the band, and the loudest politically. It makes sense that they would come after you next. I want us to be able to plan for the attack and know how to protect you from the worst.”

“You sure you don’t just want to know my weaknesses so you can seduce me?” He jokes, breaking some of the tension. Will’s fingers dig into my sides, right into a spot he knows is ticklish.

I laugh and try to push him away, but his arms wrap around me tighter.

“It’s you, Ari,” he says, his warm breath muffled into my neck. “You’re the only thing that anyone could threaten or take from me that could break me.”

I still in his arms, melting into our embrace. It’s something I already knew, but the way he says it feels different. It doesn’t feel like an overprotective big brother thing or an ownership thing. It feels like a confession. Like maybe he’s starting to get on my level.

I want to push, to get him to say more. I want to tell him there’s nothing in this world that could make me love him less. That all the public ridicule and even losing the band wouldn’t matter to me as much as loving him does. Because there’s never been anyone but him for me.

Instead his lips find mine, and I sink into his kiss.

Outside this room, this bubble, the world is loud and vicious and scary.

Outside this bubble our best friend is hurting.

Outside this bubble things are unsteady and uncertain.

But inside, we’re the only two people who matter, and the fear feels survivable.

Will kisses me slowly, gently, like we have the rest of our lives to be afraid, to fight back, to figure out what to do next.

And that feels like enough for tonight.

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