after class —「erras x coley, blitz.」

[gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.]

   
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I make it a rule to never be alone in a room with Coley again after the last, uh, mishap.

If anyone asks: I didn’t try to kiss him first.

And, well, yeah – my head did lean forward first and my lips did fall ajar, but I am a masterclass in willpower, I stopped myself before it happened and acted as though I was only examining the eye shadow I’d put on his lids. I was examining the eye shadow. Coley and I are not that kind of friends, and even if I did like him, he has the largest leash around his neck with the letter ‘A’ on it. I have also seen the way he looks at Alaine. I am not a connoisseur of body language, but I do have a natural instinct in me to barf at any form of tenderness I see, and Coley’s stares towards Alaine?

It makes me want to throw up my guts.

Our talents work impossibly hand in hand, though, so here I am with a glue gun, overtly aware of the fact that everyone else has left the classroom for the day while the two of us stayed back to finish up the costume for his next project. My hands shake as I try to glue a sequin down. I give his shoulder a light slap and blame it on him. “For the third time, stop moving,” I huff. “I don’t have all day. Lovie and I have are having our weekly girl’s talk this evening, and I don’t wanna’ be late. I am sure you and A-hole also have plans?” It’s a trick question. I want to know if they have plans.

[MATTIO]

coley.

I try to remain still as Erras makes another loop around the garment. There are a lot of different factors that go into producing for an audience, but what they offer in terms of garments is second to none. I've got a story to tell and they've got clothes to sell, so I think it's fair for both of us to come together at least for a moment and set aside any tensions. Needless to say, there's a lot of it to go around.

When their eyes look up in my direction, I simply turn mine the opposite way. Out of respect for my best friend, of course. Bro Code, or something like that. Did I violate that code that one night long ago when Erras's beacon lips shined close to mine? Of course, they stopped themselves with a royal restraint, but I wished they hadn't. It's fine… probably. Nothing happened, and nothing's going to happen. I can't lose the good I've got.

The tip of Erras's gun grazes my chest and I flinch back. The heat of the glue stings even through the fabric, but I have to be wearing the outfit in its final stages to make sure everything fits as intended. Erras scolds me. "Sorry!" I'm stiff once again. I'm wearing an Erras original, so what they say goes. We're on a time crunch, he says, because we've got places to be.

"Maybe! We've got a big project coming up, so I want to make sure he gets a good sense of all the angles and shots he needs to make his footage stun the viewers. We might need some hot cocoa after, though." I can't see them, but I can feel Erras's eyes cutting me through the spine. "And he's not an A-Hole," I say, my head turning a twinge through an otherwise paralyzed fear.

[gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.]

   
        ↳ E R R A S                                                      

I have a mean glare and I am certain it is dialed up to the max when Coley reveals the plans for his and Alaine’s hot cocoa date. What makes me more rattled is I am not sure which one I am jealous for and towards, and why I feel such an ugly thing in the first place. I do not get jealous as another rule. But these days, all of my rules seem to be tearing themselves apart.

Eyes on the prize, Erras, not his lips. I swallow whatever lump of emotion in my throat and pull my focus back onto the work at hand. The attire’s almost done, a modest piece interwoven with lines of sequins for juxtaposition, lending a look of old royalty to Coley like he is a prince that doesn’t need much to shine. And I am the court jester. I am the clown.

Fuck, have I been staring without saying a thing?

“He is,” I break the silence, leaning close under the pretense of inspecting the stitching in the shirt’s collar. “You’re just another pretty thing he keeps around until he gets bored.” I say, and flinch a heartbeat later. That came out meaner than I intended it to be. I fumble next, stuttering, “I mean- well- you know what I mean. Isn’t it the artist’s curse to constantly be searching for new muses?”

[MATTIO]

coley.

I always get nervous when Erras is quiet in a room. It usually means they're thinking about something, most likely judging someone. The silence pours on like the sequins flashing at the lower end of my vision. Are they repulsing on the inside about how hard it is to make me look good in a garment? I'd like to think I pull off old-fashioned and vintage pretty well. Perhaps he's fathoming the thought of cocoa because of what happened when we found out that ninth year was allergic (vomit, lots of vomit.)

I can feel their breath spinning around my neck as they take a closer work at the stitching within the collar. Erras raises a few doubts about Alain and I's friendship by saying Alain is fickle with an ever-changing attention span. Erras loves planting seeds, especially about his ex-boyfriend. Even when I know their intentions are poisoned by a bitter end to a relationship, a ball of spikes and needles jostles in my stomach.

As if catching himself in the act, Erras changes his tune to the more elite and elegant voice I know. An artist wandering away to a siren's delicate lines and warm sunsets. I know better than to believe what he says. My best friend isn't going to please don't leave me.

"We have our little fights every once in a while, but we always come back around." My body's uncomfortable now, moving every now and again as Erras tries to finish up the top. "We're more like you and Lovie than you and him."

[gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.]

   
        ↳ E R R A S                                                      

I huff openly. “No one is like me and Lovie. No one comes close.”

And I am not sure if anyone can. Our bond is industrial-strength. It’s a love that binds two people together at their innermost places, making them both keenly aware that if it was to be separated at any time, it would hurt more than anything in the world. It was risky, something I rarely let myself get tangled with, but fuck it.

High risk, high reward - like what I’m doing with Coley, now.

I put down the glue gun. The shirt is finished but a part of me doesn’t want this to end yet, so I start picking up sequins from my cookie box to add on.

“Maybe you should try, I don’t know, branching out. Trying new things that don’t involve him. I read Carver Le Roux’s biography and he was a self made actor.” I bring a sequin up to the light, inspect it closely for a moment, and then place it on the tip of Coley’s nose. My lips curl in a grin, all ego, as I say, “when I become Cricket Antoinette’s personal tailor, I’ll sponsor you.”

[MATTIO]

coley.

He claps back within an instant of me dropping the Ervie name and the button he's bedazzling feels like a puncture wound to the stomach. Erras is brave to have the type of confidence he has to call out Alain and I's friendship while propping Lovie's bond up as bulletproof. The thing that bugs me the most is that they circle you, taunting you like you're a fish by a hook. When I finally bite, I'm caught looking like the idiot of the conversation.

My eyes close as he inspects the fit once again. They start to talk about the independent careers of people like Carver Le Roux in District One, along with the hundreds of stars in the Capitol. There's a dash on my nose that makes me flinch backward, a flash of royal blue in the corner of my eye. When they're Cricket Antoinette's stylist, they'll sponsor me. Isn't she in her sixties or something?

Bashful, I pluck the sequin off my nose. "You mean you'll remember me when you're all hot stuff?" I know he's just saying that to try and pull me away from Alain's side. The mirror in front of us glimmers through the line of sequins on my navy jacket. Erras doesn't disappoint.

I lean forward a bit to press the sequin back onto Erras's side. There's a royal confidence, inspired by the outfit I've got on, in my voice now. "And besides, wouldn't that make me not self-made if I was taking your money?"