Although Myles insisted the museum wasn’t anything special, Blake couldn’t really bring himself to agree with that.
’Maybe, if I were a normal guy, I’d find it boring, but even then... it wasn’t that bad.’
He adjusted his grip around Anthony’s waist a little tighter, almost unconsciously, as if the contact itself was what kept him steady.
Lifting his head just slightly, he tried to peek ahead, checking if they were already close to ho.
But no, they were still ten minutes away.
"Blake, how are you feeling? Still scared?"
Anthony’s voice ca gently, careful in that way that sohow made it worse.
It wasn’t mocking or teasing, and that was the issue.
"It’s not that I’m scared, I’m just worried I’ll fall, that’s all."
"Next ti, let’s just take the bus..."
"No, no!" Blake interrupted imdiately, tightening his hold again like the idea alone was unacceptable. "I’ll get used to it. Eventually!"
He lowered his head again right after saying it, exhaling through his nose, a long, tired sigh that carried way too much embarrassnt for sothing so small.
His cheeks were already warm.
Out of all things he could be worried about in this day and age... why did it have to be this?
And worse, in the future, he’ll probably have to face worse.
That thought alone made him want to disappear into the pavent.
***
Back at ho, everything felt too quiet.
Blake closed the door behind him.
He kicked off his shoes a bit too carelessly, almost missing the rack, and imdiately regretted it when one of them fell sideways.
"Ugh, whatever..."
He walked further inside, dropping his phone on the chair, and finally exhaled properly.
Now he needed to call Myles.
Blake picked up his phone, hesitating just for a second before opening the app.
"Love Tracker," he muttered under his breath, half annoyed, half resigned.
The screen popped out in front of him, and there he was, marked in another city again.
Blake stared at it for a second longer than necessary.
’Jeez, why is he still out...’
He tapped anyway on call, and the phone only rang once.
"Blake."
Myles picked up almost instantly, like he was already holding the phone.
Blake blinked. "How fast, this might be a record."
"I was already looking at the screen," Myles replied calmly.
"I see..."
Blake shifted his weight and leaned back against the wall.
"Were you busy?" he asked.
"No."
Blake let out a small chuckle through his nose.
’Such a very nice liar.’
He walked over to his bed and dropped onto it, letting his arm fall over his eyes.
"I just wanted to talk about today," Blake said. "At the museum."
"Alright."
Blake smiled faintly, still covering his eyes.
"I never expected to have that much fun," he continued anyway. "Like... yeah, Anthony is my friend, but museums were never really my thing."
Blake rolled slightly onto his side, phone pressed closer.
"But it wasn’t bad," he added. "Actually... I kind of enjoyed it more than I expected, I think it’s all thanks to Anthony."
Myles humd softly on the other end.
That tiny sound was enough for Blake to keep going.
"I also found out so unexpected things,"
"Like what?"
Blake thought for a mont, eyes drifting to the ceiling.
"For example," he said slowly, "that famous jewelry company, Ennica, apparently had an engineering genius in it. I didn’t even know that."
A short pause followed, then Myles spoke again, calm as ever.
"She’s more known as an engineering genius than as a mber of that family."
Blake blinked.
"Yeah. That’s true, I guess."
Another silence.
Blake shifted on the bed again, one arm now hanging off the edge.
"It was really nice spending ti with Anthony after such a long ti. I kind of missed him, gotta admit it."
Myles didn’t respond imdiately, just a faint hum.
’In the na of everyone, speak a little!’
"I think I should et him more often," he said. "Maybe even sleep over at his house sotis, or sothing like that."
There was a mont after that sentence, a very small mont.
On the line, sothing shifted.
It was a barely noticeable, like fabric moving, or sothing brushing too close to the microphone.
Myles spoke again, but slightly sharper.
"...I have to hang up now."
Blake blinked up at the ceiling, face scrunching up slightly, slightly sighing out, not too happy.
"...Huh?"
"I’ll talk later," Myles continued. "Wait patiently."
Blake sat up slightly now, scratching the back of his head.
"...Right," he muttered.
Was it that obvious, that he was annoyed?
"Okay," he added quickly, trying to fix it. "Later then."
Another short pause.
Then, the call ended.
Blake stared at the phone screen for a second.
"...Seriously?"
He sighed and dropped it onto the bed beside him.
Myles had definitely noticed his tone, he should’ve made it less obvious.
But he kind of forgot about his mission!
’Dang, I must be dumb, I need to make him jealous, not too make it obvious I want him.’
Blake rubbed his face once, dragging his hand down slowly.
Why was that so embarrassing?
***
He didn’t stay lying down for long.
Eventually, Blake got up again, rolling his shoulders once as if shaking off the mood completely.
Now he had sothing else to do.
For tomorrow’s dinner, he needed nice clothes.
Not whatever he usually wore.
He opened his drawer, stared at it for a few seconds, then closed it again imdiately.
"Nope."
That wasn’t going to work but, fortunately enough, he had saved so money for this. Not a lot, but enough.
He grabbed his jacket and left the house again.
The air outside was a bit cooler.
The street felt quieter than earlier, like the whole area was settling into the night.
There weren’t many stores around here, but the ones that existed were decent enough.
That had to be enough.
Blake walked slowly at first, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning signs as he passed them.
Clothing store.
Another clothing store.
A small boutique that looked way too expensive.
He avoided that one imdiately.
’Yeah, no....’
He kept walking.
***
The first store was too bright, clean and just... perfect.
Blake stepped inside anyway.
The floor reflected his shoes slightly, and everything slled faintly like fabric and perfu.
He looked around.
’Ah, these are a bit too formal...’
Everything was either suits or sothing that looked like it belonged in a magazine.
He picked up a shirt, looked at the price for two seconds, then put it back.
’Jesus. Not happening.’
He left without buying anything.
The second store was better, since it had a less intimidating vibe.
He tried a few things here.
A jacket that was too stiff, a shirt that didn’t fit right, pants that made him look like he was trying too hard.
He frowned at himself in the mirror.
’Nah...’
He changed again.
The third store was small, almost hidden.
The clothes weren’t flashy, but they had a certain balance to them.
Blake hesitated before entering, then went in anyway.
This ti, he actually took his ti.
He tried a few combinations, looked in the mirror longer than before.
Adjusted sleeves.
Fixed collars.
Stepped back.
Stepped forward again.
Even asked for advice.
At so point, he stopped thinking about it as shopping and just... tried to imagine tomorrow dinner.
Blake exhaled slowly.
"...This one’s fine."
He tried on a final outfit.
A smart, slightly fitted jacket layered over a simple shirt, paired with clean trousers that weren’t too formal but still neat enough to look formal.
The colors were balanced, nothing too loud, nothing too plain. Sothing that looked effortless, but clearly wasn’t.
Not flashy or boring.
"Oh my, you look so handso!"
The shop assistant clapped.
"Ah, thanks, haha..."
He looked at himself in the mirror for a long mont.
"This works, I’ll buy it."
It wasn’t expensive, but it wasn’t cheap either.
Just enough to make him feel like he hadn’t wasted money.
***
Outside, the air felt colder than before.
Blake held the bag slightly tighter as he walked ho.
The streets were dim now, lights reflecting off the pavent in soft streaks.
And as he was back ho again, he closed the door, took the shoes off and left the bag on the chair.
It was completely silent.
Blake stood there for a mont, staring at the room like it had changed sohow, but it hadn’t.
He finally opened the bag and looked at the clothes again.
’They look pretty cute, I feel sorry to make them debut with that guy, and not with Myles.’
Then he dropped the bag onto the bed and sat beside it.
The anxiety didn’t hit all at once.
It built slowly, like sothing sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for him to notice it.
Blake leaned back slightly, staring at the ceiling again.
"...This is going to be a long night."
And sowhere in the back of his mind, he already knew, it wasn’t just going to be the night.
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