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christophersymes · 4 years

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Celebrity Status

Celebrity Status, an ongoing L(G)B(T)+ story also on Wattpad and Quotev.

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Chapter Five

Jules had the bass lifted over his face, searching for the scratch, when Mason turned on his camera. He froze for a second, wondering why the voice was so familiar, and then looked over to see Mason Hill staring at him fondly, smiling. He yelped when his bass hit his face, lifting his arms in a useless attempt to stop it after it happened.

He stayed still for a second, cursing himself for being such an idiot. He just embarrassed himself in front of Mason Hill. He had been embarrassing himself in front of Mason Hill. He looked from between his fingers, eyes wide, then blinked a few times and laughed incredulously. "What the— what the fuck!" he exclaimed, then winced. "Okay. No yelling. Bass to the face and a hangover plus yelling equals pain. But what the fuck— You're Mas—- Wait, you're Not-Elías?"

Mason watched, amused as Jules yelled and stammered. He couldn't help but snort as the bass fell, even though he winced a bit. "Fuck, are you okay?"

And now he was anxious. He nodded. "I'm Mason. Not-Elías. It's— It's been me."

Jules nodded when he asked if he was okay, still smiling wide and laughing slightly. He felt himself shaking. "I— Holy fuck, Mason Hill is my fucking crush? And— holy fuck, does that mean—"

"Yes. I like you right back. A lot. Breathe, Jules," Mason chuckled, taking a deep breath himself. "Look, yeah, I'm Mason, but just— I'm Elias— Not-Elias, whatever. Same person. You've been talking to me for a while. It's just me. But also me, Mason, who's awesome," he grinned. "Now you have all sides."

Jules took a deep breath with him and laughed a little again. "Holy shit. I've been talking with Mason Hill." He paused. "Is it weird that I just thought about how jealous Not-Elías would be? That's you. You can't be jealous of yourself. Well, you're Mason Hill, I guess you can. And I am totally rambling right now, oops." He laughed again softly, laying back again.

Mason put his chin in his palm, amused. "I can't argue that. Jules, you've been rambling since I met you two months ago."

Jules grinned, staring at the ceiling. He looked back again after a second, making sure it was still Mason. Then he gasped. "I fucking roasted you the first day I met you. Okay. Okay, that happened. Sorry about that. God, and I've been doing it ever since. Uh— I'm sorry about what I said about your eyes. I— I don't actually think they're bad. At all. In fact, I'm— Uh— kinda nervous looking at them right now." He blushed, turning away again, still smiling. He was quiet for a second again.

Mason shrugged. "You're cute. I'm roasted on the daily by the guys and Starlight, it's nothing new. Feel free."

"What— What does this mean?"

He watched Jules blush, grinning wide. "Well, not much new, I think? You, uh, you said something about not wanting to date me unless we met?" he raised an eyebrow. "And we have, but you didn't know, so I guess it doesn't count. I want to meet you."

Jules blushed a little more at his last words. "I want to meet you," he said softly, turning to look at him. He fought a goofy grin. "This is... surreal. Definitely explains the way you watched me through the concert. I tried to trick myself out of thinking you were looking at me but I guess it's true." The grin won out. "And you didn't even argue me saying you wanted to fuck me."

"Couldn't help it," Mason blushed a bit, although it wasn't visible on his dark skin. "Why would I argue it?" he winked.

Jules laughed a little, suddenly very aware of what he was wearing and what he had been wearing all night. His breast was even half hanging out of his tank top right now. He glanced at Mason, just in time to see the wink, then laughed once, softly, kind of nervous. "I— uh, gimme a second."

He sat up and got up, changing his clothes.

"Oh, no, are you putting on clothes?" Mason whined playfully. "I was having such a good time."

God, he was happy. Finally talking to Jules, and Jules finally knew who he was. Jules was a little uh, shocked? Starstruck? But it was going a lot smoother than he'd worried about. It felt good. As he waited, he looked around what he could see in Jules' room, smirking when he noticed some posters and pictures. "Are those Nosam posters? Aw, are those pictures of me?"

Jules put on a bra and a T-shirt and some boxers over his underwear, trying to cope with it in his head. This was Mason Hill. He was talking to Mason Hill. He was flirting with Mason Hill. He leaned against the wall and sighed. God, it was weird. But for some reason it felt right. He groaned softly. This was such a weird situation.

Jules rolled his eyes at Mason. "Yes, I did put on clothes." He sat down again, picking up the computer and rolling the chair back to the desk. "And yes, they are. I kiss them every night before I go to bed," he teased, grinning.

Mason smirked, "Oh, wow, I'm flattered."

Jules set the computer down, then held up a finger. "Thirsty. And I need to put the alcohol away. I'll be right back."

Mason nodded seriously as Jules got up. "Hydration is important."

Jules went straight for the kitchen, breathing a little heavy. Whoa. Mason Hill. Hangover headache. God, fuck, did he need coffee.

"Morning, baby bro," Rosa said, ruffling his hair when she came up behind him as he poured himself coffee.

Jules set the mug back down and lifted a hand up to cover Rosa's mouth, patting lightly. "Shh, no speaky."

Jules came back a minute later with a glass of water and a mug of coffee. He set both down on the desk, then looked at his room. It was a mess. "I... God, I really should clean my room. I haven't in a while and it's so small and there are so many clothes," he laughed softly, staring at the mess on the floor. He couldn't actually look at the computer. He was still freaking out a little. "And I don't remember how long it's been since I vacuumed. It's such a mess, holy fuck, I'm so dirty."

Mason bit his lip as Jules rambled and looked everywhere but his way. "Jules. I don't remember the last time I saw a vacuum. Your room looks like paradise compared to this tour bus," he smiled, speaking softly, "Come sit with me. I know it's probably a lot to process."

Jules looked up at Mason for a second, then at the chair. He'd been caught. He smiled a little and sat down, pulling his legs into the chair with him. He grabbed his coffee and held it close after taking a sip. It took a second for him to force himself to look at Mason, and when he did, his breath caught. "I— it's weird. It's... different?"

He looked down again, at his mug. "I mean, my feelings haven't changed or anything, don't get me wrong, I just— I don't know how to act suddenly I think." He frowned a little. "Shouldn't I just— I dunno— act the same?"

Mason shrugged, playing with the strings of his hoodie. "Yeah, I guess. I mean maybe it won't be exactly the same, but that's okay, right?"

Jules nodded, taking a sip of coffee. "Yeah. Yeah." He smiled, making himself look up again. Mason Hill. He sighed softly. "This is— like— a dream come true." He paused for a second, then laughed softly to himself, shrugging a little when he spoke. "I would have preferred Austin, but you'll do," he teased, looking back at Mason with a shit-eating grin while he lifted his mug for another drink.

Mason rolled his eyes, "That's a lie, Mr. 'Mason Hill's hugs are warm and soft and I loved it'!" he sighed dramatically, a gushing smile on his face and a hand on his chest.

Jules snorted. "Maybe I just said that cause you love Mason, Mr. masonfucker1000." He rolled his eyes at him. "Though I will admit those hugs were pretty great."

Mason smirked, "Of course they were. You're head over heels for me, baby."

Jules blushed dark red, his stomach twisting. He grinned and ducked his head in attempt to hide his reaction, shifting slightly. "Maybe I am," he mumbled, shrugging a little.

Mason smirked in satisfaction, leaning closer to the camera. "I can still see you blushing, Jules."

Jules rolled his eyes, looking up, trying to stifle his grin. "Asshole," he muttered, looking at the wall behind Mason. He bit his lip, meeting Mason's eyes on the screen. "Also, if you want to you can call me Jullian. I usually go by Jules, but technically it's Jullian. Even got it legally changed."

Mason smiled, "Nice. Congrats. I like it. I'll probably stick to Jules, though," he licked his lips and shifted in his seat, glancing around at the boys, who were still asleep. "Hey, so he/him pronouns. Legal name change. You want surgery and testosterone?"

Jules watched him look around, then nodded. "Yeah. I do." He smiled. "You wanna know something? Chris was actually the reason I realized I was trans. That's why I have such a connection to the band, why you guys are so important."

Mason grinned, eyes crinkling. "That's really cool. I'm glad that helped you."

"Growing up in as northern Michigan as you can be, you don't really get much exposure to trans people, or LGBT education," Jules smirked. "I always say Chris was my Syme."

Mason cringed at the pun, shaking his head and holding his hands up. "I take it back. That's horrible."

Jules laughed at his cringing, then grinned at him. "You'd make the same pun, admit it."

"Definitely not," Mason pouted, and then suddenly remembered the concert again when his phone buzzed with a social media notification. "Oh, at the concert... I was wondering... was there something I did or said that upset you? You seemed really off," he looked at Jules, eyebrows furrowed and frowning a little.

Jules paused for a second, mug against his lips, looking at Mason's worried face. He sighed softly. He might as well tell him.

"I— yeah, kind of. The— uh— playing hockey on the lake thing. When I was sixteen, I was playing with my team on the lake as an unofficial official practice, and I kind of thinned out the ice in one spot too much. I stopped really hard with my blades and hit my stick too hard when I thought I was going to fall while hitting the puck and I—" He took a deep breath, holding the mug tighter. He laughed softly, a little sadly, eyes closed when he said it. "I fell in, and it was so cold, and I didn't have much on because we were moving around so much, and my skates were weighing me down— and I couldn't get out and—" He sighed shakily. "Uh— anyway, my sister and Sam— my friend— and my coach got me out but I was unconscious and— yeah, I kind of almost died. Lots of water in my lungs and I hit my head on the ice and I was freezing. I still have problems with temperature."

Mason's breath caught as Jules spoke, not having expected anything like that. Jules could have drowned. He could have not been here, right now, talking to Mason. There was a lump in his throat, especially when he saw how much it affected Jules to even talk about it. "God— fuck—" his voice was thick and he hurriedly cleared it. "Jules— I'm sorry, that must have been horrible. I can't even handle twenty degrees on dry land. And I could have never— you could have been gone. And I'm super glad you're not."

Jules smiled a little, shaking. "Yeah. Me too," he breathed, looking at Mason. He set down his mug and got up to grab a sweatshirt, putting it on and turning on his heater. "Sorry. When I think about it I get really cold." He picked up the coffee again and took a drink. "Okay. Different topic. Why'd you join the site? Curiosity? And are you on the bus right now?"

"It's okay," he smiled as Jules sat back down. "Yeah, pretty much. I like secretly talking to fans." In response to his last question, he turned the laptop around so he could see half of Austin falling off the bottom bunk. "Yep."

Jules laughed at the view of Austin. "Aw, he's so cute. I don't understand how he can sleep half off like that, though."

"Bunk's too small for his restless ass," Mason snorted as he moved the laptop back to himself.

Jules grinned, leaning forward a little into the hot air of the heater. "Speaking of, have you even slept?"

"Eh. A bit, yeah," Mason shrugged. "I don't feel too bad though. We're almost to our next city, anyway."

Jules laughed again, looking at Mason now. "You're in the last week, aren't you? Do you hate when tour ends or like it?" He leaned his elbows on the desk, his chin in his hand.

"Yep. Six days left. It's kinda bittersweet. We're all exhausted and living on Rockstar right now. Which reminds me," he got up and grabbed a can out of the cabinet, opening it and chugging for a moment. "I'll be ready to rock soon," he grinned. "Tours are grueling sometimes, but, fuck, it's the best shit ever. I love it."

Jules laughed, watching him chug the drink. He rolled his eyes. "Those things are shit for your body. I could never do that."

Mason sighed sadly, "Yeah, but they're so good. We only do it the last week or two when we're all whiny as hell."

Jules shook his head at him. "Everything else, I could definitely handle. I was on the girls hockey team for ten years, travel for five of those. Practically lived on a bus with ten girls. I could handle tours so easy because of that. I loved it, actually, despite how that just sounded." He picked up a ball from his desk, playing with it and leaning back again.

Mason raised his eyebrows. "Shit, you're made to be in a band. You'd be great."

Jules grinned. "Destinyyyy," he breathed, leaning his head back in a dramatic pose. "Mason Hill said so, so it's true."

Mason scoffed, grinning. "Oh, now you agree with me. You're impossible."

Jules laughed and grinned at him. "You've got credibility now." He winked at him. "Plus, now I know you are hot and rich. Definitely my sugar daddy."

Mason huffed, pouting a bit, trying to hide a smile. Daddy sounded pretty good coming from Jules' mouth. "Speaking of which, what if I flew you out to me after the tour ends?"

Jules blinked in shock at the question. "I— God, that would be awesome, but I have school, Mase." He was sad about it. He wanted to see him. "And it's such short notice. I couldn't get everything in order in time anyway." He bit his lip, a little more sad about it than he wanted to be. Now that he knew, and now that he'd accepted it, he wanted that more than anything.

Mason frowned at that. "Okay, well, I could fly out to you?"

Jules opened his mouth, then shrugged. "I guess that could work? But you'd freeze your ass off. It's the middle of winter."

Mason shrugged, smiling lazily. "I'm a big boy. With a winter coat. And I'll have you to keep me warm," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jules laughed, rolling his eyes. "Then fine. But— uh— that means my family might have to know. Rosaline might freak," he paused. "Or Sam. I could tell her where I am and she could cover for me. My mom's— uh— I dunno how to say it without bashing her."

Mason bit his lip and scrunched up his face at that, humming in a high pitch. "Ah. Okay, Rosaline. Sam, who's— right, the hockey friend. I don't mean to offend, but can you... trust her?"

"Well, she hated when your number was leaked, so..."

Mason considered it and shrugged, "Okay. Just them for now, yeah? Okay so, I'll book for the weekend— it's perfect, actually, we get back on Wednesday, so I'll have a day to hibernate. This is gonna be awesome," he grinned, sitting up excitedly.

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christophersymes · 4 years

Text

Celebrity Status

Celebrity Status, an ongoing L(G)B(T)+ story also on Wattpad and Quotev.

<– Previous / Next –>

Chapter Four

A month later, Jules had been down for a while. His depression was in full swing, with a baseball bat full of nails, directly in his face. He'd hardly even made it to class that day, let alone online, and hadn't even gone to work yet and felt like crying. It was taking a lot to do anything, and he felt awful because he wanted to talk to Not-Elías so bad, but couldn't think of words to say aside from

good afternoon

. And he'd hardly spoken yesterday or the day before either. He hated it.

Mason had been hearing less and less from Jules the past few days, even though he'd been sending an embarrassing amount of messages. Jules did message back most times, but when she did she was curt and sounded... off.

masonfucker1000: jules

masonfucker1000: hope ur days going okay

masonfucker1000: hey what if humans were like bees and we had smth like a fucking stinger and if we killed someone w it we died and it was the only legal way to murder

masonfucker1000: i was hanging out w some friends and we ended up playing nerf guns and i somehow got a foam bullet down my pants

familyjules: ah, the only other thing you've ever gotten down ur pants.

masonfucker1000: hey are you okay? im kinda getting worried

masonfucker1000: if someone else threw a salad at you ill kick em

familyjules: afternoon, not-elías.

masonfucker1000: afternoon!! FINALLY!! juliet hath emerged! hey what's been going on???

♦️

Juliet.

He called him Juliet.

Jules froze, staring at the message, feeling tears pricking at his eyes. He hadn't told him, no, but still... He was Jules. Jullian. Anything except Juliet.

He stared at it, then grumbled to himself. "Juliet. Not. Fucking. Juliet." He got out of the truck and slammed the door, angry now that he even had to go to work. He stood by his truck, still staring at the message, then accidentally threw his phone on the concrete in the parking lot and stomped on it.

Then he realized what he'd done. Fuck. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. God damn it! Whatever." He picked up the pieces and pocketed the SIM card, telling himself he'd just buy a new one tonight after work and ship it to his house. He was enough of a dumbass already.

He tossed them in the dumpster as he went inside.

Mason frowned when there was no reply. An hour passed, even. Nothing.

A day.

masonfucker1000: jules? are you okay?

Jules was still upset, and still had no fucking phone.

Two days.

masonfucker1000: jules, please if i did something just talk to me

And a day after that, he was still upset, but at least he had a phone.

Three. Jules had never gone three days without at least a half-assed two word message.

Whenever he was home, he just stared at the message, fuming. Not-Elías had called him Juliet. He had to know him somehow, then, and by his deadname.

On the third day, the anger got bad enough he ended up messaging.

familyjules: how the fuck do you know my name and why are you doing this

Mason had been having lunch with the band when he got the message. He dropped his slice of pizza, mouth still open in shock. His eyes widened, and he excused himself, muttering under his breath that he'd be right back.

masonfucker1000: shit dude, what? juliet?

masonfucker1000: I just sort of guessed that's what it was short for

masonfucker1000: what do you mean???

Jules scoffed, opening Rabbit as fast as he could and sending Not-Elías a link.

As soon as he entered the room, Jules glared at the camera.

"My goddamn name is not Juliet, so stop calling me that. I don't know who the fuck you are, but you must know me and want to get to me now for some reason, so just... fucking stop being a dick—"

Mason gaped at Jules as she immediately started yelling and threatening at him. Jesus fuck.

"—and tell me the truth before I have to figure it out myself and beat your fucking ass. I'm not in the goddamn mood to be led on some goose chase and deal with bigots like you or deal with people who hold some stupid grudge against me. Leave me alone if that's the fucking case, or I will figure shit out and do something."

Not-Elias: jules geez

Not-Elias: holy shit

Not-Elias: i dont understand why youre so angry but im sorry if i pissed you off okay?

Not-Elias: i wont call u that anymore

Not-Elias: message me when you've calmed down

Not-Elias left the room.

Jules was still angry when he left the room. He ended up closing it too, only to reopen it later that night, as well as the fansite. He private messaged Not-Elías a link, promising in some garbled text not to yell again.

familyjules: rabb.it/familyjules pls cone ib i promize not to yellll i midd u

familyjules: misa u

Mason had been thinking about.... whatever that had been with Jules. She'd called him a bigot and talked about grudges. And Juliet was a definite no. He had a theory he was a bit too freaked to think much on. He frowned when he got a just barely comprehensible message. God, was Jules crying or something? He immediately clicked the link.

Jules was leaning back in the chair, pouring himself a shot from the bottle of vodka, singing a Nosam song along with the YouTube video. "Not-Elías!" he exclaimed, speech a little slurred, grinning. He leaned forward too fast and spilled half the shot on his shirt. "Whoops."

He downed the rest to prevent more spillage and then took a sip of Coke. "Hi, I wanted to say I'm sorry for earlier and yelling at you because it's obvious you're not anyone from high school because you're good unlike them. They couldn't even fake it. And I wanted to explain— I'm trans and I was bullied, and I miss you a lot but I've been sad a lot lately and it's cold and cold is triggering and I'm gonna drink more now." He poured himself another shot.

Mason's eyes widened in surprise at the state Jules was in. And then he was concerned. Very concerned.

Not-Elias: is that vodka?

Not-Elias: careful!

And then he froze as Jules spoke. Trans.

Fuck. So, okay. Mason didn't know himself that well after all. That's fine. It was okay. He tried to convince himself of that even if he felt a little nauseous and increasingly out of control.

He'd been such a dick when he was younger. Defensive, reckless, disrespectful, not caring about anyone else and keeping emotions bottled in. He had pretended to be confident, created a version of himself for everyone else and believed it. And once he'd been called out by so many, by Chris, he'd realized what he'd turned into: this sexist, queer-phobic prick, like a jock straight out of a movie.

He worked so hard to figure out why and relearn how he thought about things, about people, thinking about things he said to make sure he wasn't hurting anybody. He spent so much time learning himself inside and out. Actually starting to like himself for once, no more surprises. And even if his chest was aching and he couldn't breathe from hearing Jules say that, he knew he liked Jules a lot. He knew he had to deal with it.

He wasn't straight.

But he didn't know what to think— his own secrecy had been different— but— of course they weren't dating, and online— and Mason couldn't possibly pretend he knew what being trans was like. Whatever reason Jules had had for not telling him was probably a good one, even though it hurt. Mason realized he hadn't responded, and frankly didn't know how.

Not-Elias: okay

Not-Elias: youve def been drinking too much

Not-Elias: jules

Not-Elias: why didnt you tell me?

Mason paused, biting his lip. He didn't want to sound mad, but he was kind of upset. And he deserved to know why, didn't he?

Jules knocked back the shot, then leaned forward to read his messages. "I said I was bullied... They did some online too and I'm super scared about the fansite being a lot of people who could gang up on me sometimes—" Jules's lip trembled a little and he shook his head and touok a deep breath. No crying in front of Not-Elías.

"I was scared when I started thinking more and liking you, 'cause you were new and different and I was having fun talking to you, but you said you were cis and straight and it was actually real hard to even tell you I'm bi. And it's okay if you don't like me now cause you're straight and I'm a dude, I understand that."

Mason frowned at how Jules looked close to tears, instantly angry at everyone who'd hurt her— who'd hurt him.

His stomach turned as he thought about all the times he misgendered him. Oh God, he suddenly felt really sick. All of those shes and hers crawling up his throat.

Not-Elias: oh jules

Not-Elias: no i

Not-Elias: i like you

He bit his lip. Get over it, Mason.

Not-Elias: i guess i'm just gay. go figure

Jules wiped at his face with his shirt, then remembered there was vodka all over it and pouted a little, staring down at it.

Whoa, there was a flash. Mason's breath caught. He definitely saw a nipple and— fuck. But, oh God, was Jules drunk.

Not-Elias: listen do me a favor, baby, no more shots, yeah?

Not-Elias: put the vodka away

Yes, it felt a little weird calling Jules baby for a moment, knowing he was a guy, but it still felt right. Mason was fucking gay.

Oh, poor Andrew. All alone.

Jules read the messages and wanted to cry even more. He felt so silly for hiding it for so long, especially if it was going like this. "Are you sure?" he asked, staring at the messages.

And then the few about the vodka came through and he pouted, though he was blushing a bit at being called baby again. "But I don't wanna. Tomorrow's my day off and drinking is fun!" He grabbed the bottle, cradling it against his chest. "'S like my baby."

Not-Elias: im sure

Not-Elias: a hundred percent

Not-Elias: even if youre a complete mess

Not-Elias: and you've drunk

Not-Elias: youre drunk

Not-Elias: too much more and youll be poisoned

Not-Elias: ill be your baby instead

Jules grinned, leaning forward. His leg was bouncing now. He set down the bottle. "All right," he said. "But you're my baby now. You gotta come hug me."

Not-Elias: nice okay thank you

Not-Elias: u should drink water if you can

Not-Elias: oh i want to. i will

Mason hated this, not being able to talk to Jules. Especially when he was in this state. He needed comfort, and Mason wanted to give it and— damn it, he wished he could just turn on his camera. Maybe he should. He seriously considered it and— no, not right now, when he was drunk.

Jules tuned into the music again and gasped, grinning. He sang along a little, nodding and getting up to get water like he was told, completely forgetting he was in just a tank top and underwear— not even boxers, just underwear. He came back still singing, then lifted the water so Not-Elías could see it. "Water."

Mason whined a bit as Jules stood up, looking away a second later, staring at the tour bus ceiling. Why did the world want to be so generous yet so cruel?

Not-Elias: and you said you're not a singer

Not-Elias: good! drink up!

Jules grinned, taking a drink and leaning back a little in his chair. "Oh—uh— is there anything you want to listen to? Or watch?"

Not-Elias: uhhhhhh

Not-Elias: spongebob?

Jules nodded, opening up Amazon Prime and attempting to search for it. He misspelled it a few times, but got it in the end. "Oh, this is the best episode," Jules said, grinning and hovering over the Bubble Bowl episode.

They watched one and a half episodes, during which Jules had moved from the chair to his bed, putting the laptop on the chair. Mason honestly wasn't paying all that much attention to Spongebob. Jules was so cute, his drunk commentary endearing.

At some point Mason realized Jules had fallen asleep. He smiled, eyes going soft.

He barely thought about it when he turned on the mic.

"Goodnight, Jules."

Jules, fast asleep, groaned a little. "G'night," he mumbled. "Lub you."

Mason's heart jumped to his throat.

"Jules? Are you awake?"

He blushed hard, cheeks hot. He probably wouldn't mention that part to Jules in the morning.

"Nuh uh," Jules hummed, pulling the blanket over himself better. "'m sleep."

Mason laughed lightly. "Really? Sleeptalker, huh? I'll let you sleep. Talk to you in the morning."

Mason had turned off his mic and hadn't even noticed he had fallen asleep.

"Mason? Why're you still on your computer? S' the middle of the night."

Mason jerked awake, blinking as he looked at Jules on-screen and then at Chris on the top bunk across, leaning over the bed and frowning at him sleepily.

Mason sighed, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes. "I think I'm gonna tell Jules," he said.

"What?" Austin grumbled from below Chris, turning and blinking wildly at Mason. His wavy hair was sticking up in all directions, like static or that kid from Meet The Robinsons.

"He said he's gonna tell Jules," Andrew growled from above Mason, grumpy from being woken up, but listening, blankets tugged tight over his otherwise naked body.

Chris supported his chin on his hand as he tried to get a better look at Mason's face. He was serious. "What changed finally?"

Mason sighed, panic returning as his brain turned the lights back on and told him he was supposed to be freaking out. "It keeps getting harder. And we didn't talk for a bit and— last night— tonight he— he's trans. And he was drunk— "

"Wait— "

"Did you say— "

Mason groaned, dropping his face into his pillow. "Don't--"

Andrew wheezed from above him. "Fuck."

"You're— "

"I get to say it! You dumbasses got to come out," Mason whined as he sat up. "I'm not straight. Probably, uh, pan."

Austin started laughing sleepily as he leaned up on his elbow to properly make fun of Mason.

"I saw it coming," Andrew mumbled. "But fuck you."

Chris bit his lip worriedly. "Okay, but remember when that one fan gave out your number and address even though the address was fake, but you had to change your number and— "

Mason sighed loudly. "Yes, I remember."

And he did remember. He'd thought about it quite a bit, all the worst case scenarios. Jules being pissed off at being royally catfished and outting him to the world in the worst way possible, or Jules being way too happy and outting him and not really caring about him, or Jules just completely cutting him off in shock and outrage. Mason shook the thoughts away. "Jules isn't like that. I just— I want her— him to know, I'm sick of lying."

Austin shrugged. "Okay. Your choice, man. Go for it."

Andrew hummed in agreement, giving the idea a thumbs up that Mason didn't even see, already falling asleep again. Chris sighed and smiled, "I'm sure you're right. You're a good judge of character."

Mason smiled, "Thanks."

In the morning, Jules woke up to find he'd fallen asleep on Rabbit with Not-Elias. He smiled, nuzzling his face against the pillow. He was so cute. So good. He remembered getting drunk and telling him everything, and he'd taken it in stride, just accepting...

He sighed, staring at the icon of Mason on the screen. He wished he knew him. This was just making him want to date him more, though he knew his own rules and didn't want to break them. It felt kinda shitty to feel like that, though, especially since Jules wanted to just... live, really, but it felt like there was always something holding him back. He wiped at his eyes, realizing he was crying a little. God, he was so pathetic.

Mason woke up again to see that Jules was awake. He smiled, then noticed he seemed kinda sad. Mason got up, washing his face and brushing his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror for a moment. Well, he looked as good as he usually did, he guessed. He guessed? Fuck. He was nervous. He groaned and put on a hoodie, yawning as he walked past the bunks and sat down, putting his earphones in.

Not-Elias: good morning! how're you feeling?

Jules jumped a little at the message tone, wiping his eyes again to make sure any trace of tears was gone. He disguised it as sleepy rubbing his eyes and smiled. "Morning, Not-Elias. I feel..." Jules considered telling the truth, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He settled on one thing. "Hungover. Kinda tired. My head hurts a little. How are you feeling?"

Not-Elias: a little flipped upside down, honestly

Not-Elias: but uh, overall, pretty good

Not-Elias: okay, actually im a little nervous

Not-Elias: hey

Not-Elias: do u know what would be cool

Not-Elias: u should play me some bass

Jules smiled. "I'm glad you're feeling okay, though. I mean— What happened is... a lot, probably. If you need to talk, I'm here. And you really want to hear me play right now? I— uh— okay." He leaned over, picking up his bass from the stand by his bed.

"I wonder if I can play it laying down." He plucked a few strings, then shifted his hands to play it. He laughed a little. "I guess I can... God, you have no idea how many times I've dropped this thing. I'm shocked it still plays." He lifted it up, grinning.

Mason smiled, watching him fondly as he grabbed the bass and played around with it, rambling and laughing. What was he even going to say? 'Hi, I'm not Elias, I'm Not-Elias, with a dash' or 'I'm Not-Elias, AKA Mason Hill AKA masonfucker1000 AKA an asshole?' or even 'Hey, it's Mason, please don't be mad at me or post about this?'.

God, everything he could think of was woefully lame. It was like his nerves had turned him into Chris.

"There's actually a really bad scratch somewhere on here, I think it's on the back... I dropped it when I first got it because my parents told me some shit, I don't even remember what, but it scared me. Oh— oh, I think it was when my grandpa died. They told me and I just... dropped it. It's funny now, because like... y'know, that was my grandpa, but— "

Mason couldn't take it any longer. He moved the mouse, cursor hovering over the camera icon. It seemed easier to do it when Jules was occupied, it made Mason less nervous than when he was looking at the screen. He turned his mic on first, then his camera, smiling. "Uh, hey," he said softly to get his attention. Hey wasn't exactly what he had wanted to say first, but fuck it. His heart was thumping in his ears.

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