Chapter Text
“Hey… Isn’t that Hiiragi, over there?”
“Hiiragi? Who is that?”
“You don’t know Hiiragi? No way!”
In the last row of the amphitheatre, sits the latest social media phenomenon. Hood on his head, hands in his pockets, circles under his eyes. His blond strands fall off on his forehead, as if he hoped it would hide him more from the girls whispering in front of him.
“It’s a famous Youtuber! Have you seen his amount of followers? They say he even has a past in the music industry!”
“What? How is he so…”
“Hum hum.”
The girls jolt. They address a shy smile to Hiiragi behind them, as a sign of apology. He leans back in his chair. Crosses his arms around his chest. Sighs even louder.
Why is it always girls?
Hiiragi loves the attention. Content creator wouldn’t be his job if he didn’t. But whenever he looks at his stats, or when there are people recognising him in the streets, it’s always girls. That’s why he puts his hood on and sits so far in the class. Even though it doesn’t hide anything from his beauty.
Either guys are too closed off to show up, or gay people are a myth. But these don’t seem like valid options when he glances at his childhood friend next to him.
A phone buzzes repeatedly on the table. It’s not Hiiragi’s.
“Mafuyu, it’s the third time in ten minutes. What the hell?”
“It’s just Yuki. He wants to meet up after my classes.”
“Again? Didn’t you dump him?”
“Uhm… We’re on a break?”
Mafuyu laughs sheepishly and turns his phone off. He’s cute, innocent, funny, so Hiiragi doesn’t get why he still clings to his Yuki since high school. Three years in which they got together, hurt each other, have been lovey-dovey and then fought again. To fuck the next day. Hiiragi already tried everything to split them for Mafuyu’s own good, but he can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. So now, he simply watches the fall down and gets ready to repair Mafuyu’s broken heart when he’ll decide to put an end to this masquerade.
“Bullshit.”
“You know it’s not that easy, Hiiragi. You’d understand if you had a boyfriend too,” Mafuyu argues.
Thankfully, Mafuyu has such a naïve voice when he punches him with his words, because otherwise, Hiiragi is sure that their friendship wouldn’t have lasted all these years. They bicker since kindergarten and have each other’s back since the same period. Now, even in college, they still take classes together. Hiiragi’s protectiveness forces him to stay close.
“You know well that guys never come to me,” Hiiragi grunts. “I’d have a boyfriend since a long time ago if I had more fanboys.”
“That’s not how it works, Hiiragi.”
“Then how? Don’t I look good enough? Do I sound like an idiot? Am I not interesting at all? I don’t get it.”
“Maybe you should go out more,” Mafuyu suggests. “And I’m not talking about your suspicious influencer gatherings—”
“Conventions.”
“Yeah, whatever. Go to uni parties. Normal ones. Or join a club.”
Mafuyu giving suggestions isn’t something Hiiragi exactly wants. No, that’s right, being advised about romantic matters by a guy who’s been drooling over the same idiot for three years isn’t very helpful. Hiiragi brings a hand in Mafuyu’s red hair and tousles it roughly, winning a complaint from his friend.
“Idiot. Get yourself a real boyfriend before trying to help me.”
“I told you it’s not that easy.”
Mafuyu stops his wrist, and looks up to him with his big, brownish eyes, cheeks a little flushed up. Hiiragi ends up focusing on the class, chin dug in his palm, trying to get this pretty image out of his head. He probably won’t have anything from his friend, but he still knows that Mafuyu deserves the best.
Two nights later, Hiiragi is following Mafuyu’s advice: go to “normal” parties. If normal means a bunch of young adults drinking in a bar and pretending to integrate even though they already know each other. And in addition, obviously, Mafuyu didn’t come with him. He pretended these kind of parties aren’t for him because there are too many people. But Hiiragi knows it’s just another excuse to avoid saying that he’ll crash at Yuki’s place again.
“And you, Hiiragi? Do you have a job?”
“Wait, you don’t know the guy? He’s practically a celebrity!”
Hiiragi laughs it off, a fake innocence on as he slides through the conversations. He’s never struggled fitting in these groups of sociable students. It’s not a bother but he doesn’t need it so much. Especially when there’s a new girl clinging on his arm at his side. When arriving at the bar, he made sure to sit between guys but somehow, people changed seats and once again, he found himself in an awkward situation.
“You guys are exaggerating,” he chuckles. “I’m a streamer and vlogger. Usually I play video games but sometimes it’s my life as a student or showing stuff when I go abroad. Nothing super fancy.”
“You kidding?!” The girl next to him said. “I’ve seen you in a program on TV once!”
“In a commercial on YouTube too!”
“Well, yeah, that’s part of the job,” Hiiragi shrugs. “Anyway, excuse me, I’ve gotta get some fresh air.”
“Can I come with you?”
In another universe, he would have loved having this cute girl batting her lashes for him with desire. But not in this one. So he only stands up, pats her head with his charming smile and refuses politely.
Once he gets outside, he takes a long breathe and exhales the same way. He leans against the wall, wondering what he has done wrong. Back in high school, Hiiragi’s relationships sucked. He didn’t have a lot, but none of them were worth the memory. He knew deep down that it had always been boys, but he tried to get with the girls asking him out without questioning his identity. That was his biggest mistake. It only lead to suffering.
He sure thought that he would be happier when he met his first boyfriend in his senior year, but boys clearly weren’t as considerate as the girls he had dated. He would rather erase the memory of his terrible and hurtful first time, as much as the way he broke up with this guy the day after.
“Damn, I could use some weed right now…”
“Want some?”
Hiiragi nearly jumps. He really thought he was alone in his deep thoughts, but now, he realises it was crazy to miss the figure next to him. It’s a tall man with dark hair, a long coat that makes him look mysterious, a turtleneck that adds at least a hundred levels of sexiness to his face. His features appear under the dancing flames when he lights up his cigarette. He shows his packet to Hiiragi.
“Just kidding. It’s regular tobacco. But that could help too.”
Hiiragi takes way too long to formulate a coherent answer. He is stuck at the deep, grey eyes of his interlocuter, and the sultry voice saying such mundane things but already sounding like the hottest song he’s heard.
“I don’t—I don’t… Smoke.”
“Then what are you doing in the smoking area?”
“I…”
What the fuck is wrong with him? He chats with followers every day and rejects girls with the cutest smile and now… Now, he can’t even answer a stranger about a cigarette. A hot stranger. That seems a little familiar, too, but he can’t tell if he’s imagining things simply because that stranger would do wonders as a celebrity.
Hiiragi looks up and down, analysing the guy’s appearance and the more he blinks, the more he realises that he is just his type.
His heart flips back in his chest. This is a problem. He is finally in front of someone he would want to see again, but can’t even say something funny or entertaining. He is still looking for his usual charm but he is afraid that he left it inside the bar.
“I think I… I forgot my… Phone… Inside… See you!”
And he runs back inside. Fleeing from the one guy who managed to make his heart pound. With the phone he “forgot” in hand. Hiiragi is an idiot. A plain, fucking idiot.
He can’t believe he just made this huge of a mistake. What if he never sees him again? What if he can’t find him anymore? What if he just ditched the love of his life without knowing it?
But there’s still hope that he stays out a little longer. Hiiragi has to get a hold of himself – he can’t let this opportunity slide away. He makes a beeline to the barman and orders a new drink. It has got to be the main problem. He hasn’t had enough to drink. Once he’ll relax a little, he’ll be able to handle a conversation with the guy smoking outside, and even flirt back, or better : winning a date for the next weekend.
He bottoms out his beer, dizzy from the image of the dark haired smoker. His fingers around the cigarette are already printed in his memory.
Without thinking, he orders a second pint, ready to conquer his prey. He grabs the glass, turns around furtively, but before he can take a step more, he hits another body.
The drink spills all over the other’s shirt.
“What the fuck! Watch out, you dick!”
“Excuse me?! You’re the one who ran into me!” Hiiragi defends himself.
This night barely started it’s already crazy. This guy with no sense of balance, runs straight into him and insults him for spilling beer over him? The world is upside down. Not because that stranger’s white shirt doesn’t hide a lot from his abs – that, is another story – but because he has no damn right to talk to him like that. Hiiragi clenches his pint harder, forcing himself to look up to his eyes. No distractions allowed in a conflict. Even though those ocean eyes are just as distracting as the damp white shirt.
“No shit! Look at what you’ve done!”
As if it weren’t enough, he points the liquid spilled over him, and Hiiragi has to stare again. Fuck. Is he doing it on purpose?
“That’s your fault for walking like a drunken! You gotta repay me that one!”
“Yeah, as if I’d repay for anything! You’re the one who’s gonna repay me for that shirt!”
“Ueno—Stop, come on, now!”
A blond friend of his comes holding him back, pulling him behind and scolding him. He gives a shy smile to Hiiragi and apologises. But Hiiragi doesn’t get the social assignment – he’s still watching lower than the eyes of this Ueno and doesn’t feel like looking away yet.
“I’m sorry, my friend is so drunk, please excuse us!”
Hiiragi doesn’t answer. He is also feeling the effects of alcohol rushing in his blood and his brain starts lagging.
He suddenly remembers what he wanted to do. He lets the half empty pint on the bar and runs back to the smoking area. He can only hope hard that this stupid encounter didn’t make him lose his opportunity. If the hot smoker isn’t here anymore, he’s going to blame the other weirdo for the rest of his life.
There’s no one outside. Hiiragi is panting, looking right and left, but the only thing remaining is a still fuming cigarette on the rim of the ashtray.
“Fuck… Fucking idiot! Argh!”
Maybe it’s just his fate. No one will ever be waiting for him, no one wants him the way he does, and no one will end up with him. Ever. His unluckiness gets confirmed when he feels a drop on his head. Then another. And a sudden rainfall.
Hiiragi isn’t made for love, is he?
Or at least, that’s what he thinks.