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James unlocked his hotel door and stuck the keycard in the pocket, turning the lights on. His eyes scanned the room. It was a pretty normal-if a little fancy, hotel room, door to his right, peaking in, James could tell it was a bathroom, with a rather extravagant shower. To the left of the hotel room door was one of those weird wardrobe things that doesn’t actually make any sense. Walking further into the room, doubling the bathroom-side wall was a kitchenette, with a kettle, fridge, and little drawers. Beside the kitchenette was a king sized bed with fancy linen sheets. A tv hung opposite the bed with a desk beneath it and elaborately decorated windows. After swinging his suitcase onto the dustless desk, James found himself in the mood for a shower. He had almost missed the train given how hot the uk weather was, there were just a few trains actually running, what was worse? He’d not booked a seat so he was stuck in the connecting carriage area with about 6 others in the same predicament. It was sweltering. His bandmates had abandoned him for a drink at the hotels bar, complimentary, but James wasn’t exactly up for that energy. All he could think about was showering and lying all cozy in that bed having non-verbal phone time. James shook his soggy hair, spraying droplets all over the place as he dried himself up. A quick notifications check whilst he changed a scruffy old black t shirt and some red tartan pyjama-trousers. There were a few texts from his Brighton friends, wishing him safe travels, they must’ve gotten the train warnings too. A text from his good friend Will stood out. It wasn’t anything special, not really. It was just a text, asking he call once he’s settled. It wasn’t special to the untrained eye. But it was enough to make James’ heart skip a beat. He took a quick check in his mirror, making sure he was happy with his appearance before glancing back down to his phone, he took a double take back to the mirror, looking in its reflection, his eyes drawn to a note, he must’ve missed that when he first arrived. Hello Mr Marriott!Welcome to Todays Lounge, we hope you enjoy your stay! We heard your here for musical opportunitiesP.S. there’s a surprise in the fridge! complimentary along with your band mates! Curious, James opened the fridge. Wine. Alcohol. Oh. “I’m almost three years sober.” James whispers to himself, to remind himself. It isn’t worth it. It isn’t. It doesn’t even work. A blurry picture was taken and sent to Will before he’d even really processed what he was looking at. Will called him immediately. “James?” “There’s a note, ‘says it’s free.” He didn’t feel like he was in control of his own surroundings or himself. Will was speaking but he couldn’t hear. The phone had dropped and James just sat on the bed staring at the open fridge feeling the slight chill. He must’ve been like that for hours because suddenly, there was incessant, panicked knocking at his door. James pulled his gaze from the wall to open the door and was immediately, forcibly, embraced in a tight, desperate hug. James inhaled deeply, a monstrously large rock settling in his lungs nicely. “I didn’t touch it.” Will hugged him for a minute longer before stepping back. “I know.” He meant it, they both knew. Will wasted no time in opening the (5) bottles of wine and draining them in the bathroom sink. While James sat on his bed, listening to the sounds; clinking, liquid draining, and the tap, running water washing the wine away. Eventually, Will returned to James’ eyesight and hopped up on the bed. Will clicked the TV on and found a running of Ratatouille At some point, James’ consciousness set back in. One question stood out in his mind. “Will, how did you get here?” Will froze up like he hadn’t expected to be asked. “Oh, y’know.” “I don’t, the trains are closed and london is pretty famously far from Glasgow.” Will sunk further on the bed. “Shhhhhhh.” Will hushed. “Why?” “Shhhhhhh.” Will put a finger to his lips “But why? cause- I’ve got, stuff to say.” James half-joked. “Shhhh it’s fine.” Will moved his finger from his mouth to James’. “Will-“ “Shhhhhhhhhh.” “Was it legal?” James joked, though his eyes widened when Will avoided eye contact dramatically. “Shhhhhhh go to sleep.” “How’d you know what room I’m in? Will?” Will simply stopped answering, only repeating “Shhhhhh.” until James would finally give up.About halfway through an old running of some friends episode, Will began wiggling his feet in a rhythm. James squinted his eyes. “Will! Your shoes!” Will looked vaguely alarmed as he asked “What about them?” praying he hadn’t ran through dog shit or something. “They’re on the bed!” Will swallowed thickly. “So?” “So?! outside clothes are not permitted on beds that’s a known fact.” Will opened his mouth to retort but he was interrupted before he could. “This is a cultural thing!” “Fine!” Will gave in almost immediately, he didn’t really care and it was hard to wiggle in shoes anyway. “I dunno bout you but i’m drained.” James hinted. He beat around the bush for a little longer until just giving up and Will point blank, “Nobody in their right mind would ever sleep in jeans Will, it’s just not right.” “Right well what’d’ya suggest, ya nutter.” He whispered the last bit. James inhaled awkwardly. “Well, I packed spare pyjamas.” Will laughed at the implication. “Spares for what? You a bed wetter?” James rolled his eyes and smacked Will on the arm. “Shut up, I just like the options.” “Yeah right, just toss me whatever I’ll change in the toilet.” So James did. And even though he was definitely still kinda iffy from the whole ‘take this alcohol’ situation earlier, he’d be lying if he claimed having THE Will Lenney in HIS pyjamas wasn’t the top priority for his mind. They shared the bed, surprisingly, it wasn’t very awkward. Neither wanted any lights on, the bed was pretty big and there wasn’t much rustling to get comfy. “Are you really not gonna tell me how you got here?” James asked in the silence, he’d taken the side closer to the window. “Rollerskates.” James squinted before realising Will was lying. // Will was rudely awoken by James’ rhythmic breathing. They must’ve gotten cold at some point in the night, because James no longer facing the window and Will was no longer lying towards the wall. Instead they lay face to face, well, face to collarbones in Wills case, his head must’ve slipped from the pillow. James was asleep, but he was sharing Wills pillow, breath warm on the back of Will’s neck. Internally, Will was feeling a rush of emotions, adrenaline, excitement, anxiety, dread at knowing this position wasn’t purposeful, but indebted to experience such a peaceful moment. James woke up naturally around an hour later. Neither moved until after the hotels breakfast had long since ended. “When’s your set start?” Will asked sleepily rubbing his eyes. The sight reminded James of an overworked guardian angel. “Not till 8.” James replied mindlessly, he was too busy admiring Will, who was stretching like a cat, his shirt rising slightly exposing Wills waist, his hipbones seemed more prominent than the last time James saw Will shirtless, some video on his second channel, unimportant. Will, however, was oblivious to James’ mesmerised gaze and sighed happily. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately but one night with James and of fucking course he was happier than ever. “So we’ve got like 10 hours to kill?” Will asked, though it wasn’t much of a question. “What were you thinking?” “Walk around? Maybe see if there’s a cafe aroud for some good o’d fashioned tea.” James snorted. “Sure,you wanna borrow some of my clothes?” “Might as well.” James (somewhat upset this moment had been ruined) got up and opened his suitcase, he took out his concert outfit and today’s. “Take your pick, I’ll change in the toilet.” When James reappeared he was met with the sight of Will in boxers, grey socks, and a white t shirt. “Shit Will, at least take me on a date first!” James laughed loudly as he slammed the bathroom door shut. Will screamed, high-pitched and undignified, going on a tangent of nonsense about James being crude. “A’right it’s safe.” Will allowed James to exit the bathroom and James laughed again. This time, James was met with a death glare from a fully dressed Will. It was kinda chilly on their walk-about and Will had goosebumps along his skin. “How about in there?” James asked nudging Will and pointing to an independent, indie little coffee shop. “Looks nice.” James went looking for a table while Will ordered. That’s always been their routine, James has always had a bit of anxiety with ordering stuff, buying stuff, whatever, and if Will could ease a bit of that anxiety then he’d do whatever James wanted no questions asked. That sounds kinda intense. Maybe a question or too. The coffee shop was a calming mix between ‘enough people around us to know this isn’t a front for something illegal but not too many people that someone’s gonna have a breakdown’. Will likes a good crowd now and then but not this close to waking up. James’ iced americano and french toast was placed in front of him by a fan, who was albeit socially awkward, but very polite in asking for a photo which, Will was happy to take. “Just coffee?” James prompted, gesturing mildly towards Will. “Never been much of a breakfast man if we’re honest.” James nodded, he didn’t really get it but to each their own. They engaged in chitter chatter and a few hours (and a few shops later) they were back at James’ hotel room. James was showering before his show, the water droplets fell like tiny bullets tearing by onto his skin but it was a pre-show ritual, showering always grounded him. Meanwhile, Will had gotten himself comfy, lying on James’ bed. Wiggling his feet rhythmically as he scrolled through twitter. A # that hated seein’ Will coming, #willNEhate. He knew nothing good would come from this but it was like a toxic relationship he just couldn’t cut off. There was a lot of homophobic comments, useless incels complaining about his change in content and friendships. But there were a few opinions that held weight to them. //Anyone else that can’t stand wills second channel videos? it’s so performative// //anyone else think will should be on REDACTED?// REDACTED is a dark dark part of the internet full of teenage girls giving each other advice on how to stick fingers down their throats and how to clear a plate without actually eating anything. Will made a new gmail account so there would be zero ties before signing in. A blank profile would be predatory, but a profile of fake images is probably worse. Will settled on faceless pictures from his camera roll for his layout and began searching. In almost no time he was in communities and knew all the lingo. It felt good, having people already complimenting his body, but he needed more. restrict, work out, purge, repeat. This was the general consensus of the game. Will was going to win. He promised himself. Will’s always been on the bonier side but after his breakup last year, well, he hasn’t felt like he needed to stay attractive. But that thought process had bit him in the ass because here he was, listening to incels point out problem body areas and wanting to mark them with pens and cut it off with scissors. Will was snapped back to reality when James whipped a shirt at him. Another high-pitched scream. “Ow! What the hell?!” Will cleared his throat, hearing the whiny tone. “Ow dude !” He repeated, mockingly. James laughed loudly and for a second, Will completely forgot about the comments and smiled at him happily. “So, we’re spending the night here and then someone’s organised us travels back to brighton.” “I think the trains’ll be good by tomorrow.” Will replied off handedly. “Comin’ to see the performance?” James asked, he sighed and started rifling through his suitcase before picking out a new shirt and switching the one he was already wearing. “Yeah.” James smiled. “If, that’s like, okay?” “Course it is!” The crowd was electric and the energy was euphoric. Will felt such an intense, deep feeling of community, belonging. Yeah. He belonged in that crowd. Which is a weird thought because James’ fans have been described as queer, weird. Not that those are synonymous. Queer. Weird. Nobody has said to his face, lately, that he’s weird. (Lately as in in the past few years). The gay allegations have been upped in frequency and believability recently. And believability? Suddenly, the purple, blue and pink lights were too crazy, the music was grating against his eardrums, the screaming was too loud, the air was too hot and thick, his breath was too quick and too shallow. Out. Out. Out now. Leave. Go. Get out. Out. Now. Will burst into the buildings’ men’s toilets and splashed cold water on his face. It didn’t work. His vision was blackening round the edges and the anxiety was rising. Seconds felt like squishy, oozing hours. At some point he’d ended up on the floor, with his knees to his shoulders and his head between his knees trying desperately to regulate his breathing. His mind scrambled for coping mechanisms but he couldn’t focus on anything let alone name 5 things he can see! Every time he managed to whisper a label his mind had moved on. One word stuck, repeating, like a deranged parrot. Faggot. But he wasn’t gay. He’s Will. He’s had girlfriends! Girlfriends plural! Long term as well! Not just dumb flings. Yes, sometimes he’ll check out an ass on a guy, but that’s normal! right? Besides! He’s almost 30. Not that queer people like, die off at 30 or anything, but he’d know by now. Wouldn’t he? Shouldn’t he? Tears cascaded like an angry waterfall and his breathing had acquired a strangely pitched almost whistle. Finally, his mind went blank, and like instinct, his breath slowly began stabilising, his heartbeat, albeit still aware of it, had slowed significantly and had quietened considerably since the panic attack started. Oh shit-was that a panic attack? Christ no wonder teenagers are so fucked up! that was awful! Admist all the chaos, Wills phone had been dropped and was currently lying face down near the door. He didn’t want to inspect the damage, not because of the money of having to fix it, more because it’ll be physical proof of his misfortune. He can’t just gaslight himself, say it was just a dumb nightmare. So instead he looked around the sketchy bathroom. Three square mirrors stapled into the wall above white porcelain sinks with cracks and some strange, soapy substance coating it. Vandalism covered every surface, the colours contrasted the grey paint, it had a weirdly calming effect on Will. Two urinals were behind the door, three stalls were (unoccupied) and on the right side of the sinks. Using a sink as an anchor, Will pulled himself up and inspected himself in the mirror and shady lighting. There was a wall of tears behind his eyes and clear tracks down his cheeks. His nose resembled a famous fictional reindeers and somehow even his hair was messed up. Some more water splashed and he used some totally-fine-not-at-all-scrappy toilet paper to wipe his face down to appear at least somewhat presentable. Okay. And phone. A spiderweb crack went all across the screen but there was something, poetic about it. Or maybe he’s just destined to be shallow. Will made his way back to the concerts room and saw, just a few straggling fans who clearly didn’t want to brave the rain. James spotted Will, who looked like a lost toddler, and ran up to him. “What’d you think of the set?” He asked, excitement and validation dripping in his words. Will sniffed, unexpectedly and blinked in surprise. “No yeah, it was great man, crowd too.” Okay so he’s really bad at bullshitting. James’ face fell and the wall of guilt that hit Will was so tense he felt it in his heart. “What happened Will? Are you okay?” James asked softly, a comforting hand placed around Wills shoulders. “No, no James I’m fine. Promise.” “Where were you? before?” Lie. “Uh, a girl, was lookin for uh, a good time.” The betrayal and hurt in James’ eyes was so crystal clear Will dug his fingernails into his arm. James actually believed Will would put his sex life-not even life, a fucking quickie over James! “No I’m sorry, James I lied, I’m sorry there wasn’t a girl-“ Will all but fell onto James, tears threatening to escape him again as he bit back a choked sob, continuing with apologies. “Will? Did, did somebody drug you or something what’s going on?” James looked at him with such soulful eyes. Like Will was the most important, impressive being that required all of his attention. “Nothing like that,” Will shook his head, he wished he could’ve just lied and been done with it, he exhaled sharply, “it was just a dumb,” he coughed, snot must’ve gotten lodged, “panic attack.” Will whispered. Feeling stupidly weak, pathetic. Get a fucking hold of yourself. Your basically thirty, over here crying. Man up. “Sorry.” Will muttered. “Before all that, it was really fun though.” James hugged him tightly. “Thank you.” Will inhaled deeply, smelling James, a mix of cologne and sweat. Comforting. Somehow, they ended up back at the hotel, James let Will shower first, to help his nervous system recover, something like that, James is good with that stuff so Will trusted him. Now that he’s feeling calmer, Will feels incredibly guilty and embarrassed for missing the rest of James’ set for a dumb little cry over literally nothing. ‘Nothing’ because he isn’t queer. He can’t be. He’d know by now. Obviously he would. Everybody else knew by thirteen.