For the fans, p.7
For The Fans, page 7
But then Frankie and our friend, Bea, convinced me to suck it up and go. So I did. And as predicted, it didn’t go over well.
We noticed each other at the same time, but pretended the other didn’t exist for a couple of solid hours, during which time I smoked and drank enough that I actually did forget about his existence for a while. But when Bea started making out with his friend, Theo, it drew our two groups a little too close together for comfort.
In an effort to avoid an argument and get away from Kyran’s incessant scowling, I went to the other side of the party. I was talking to Micah, who I’d just met that night—we bonded immediately over a shared love of the same true crime podcast—when someone tapped on my shoulder.
And, wouldn’t you know… it was stepbrother dearest. There to fill my evening with rays of sunshine.
I guess I’d rolled my eyes before he even said anything, because his first words to me were, “What the hell is your problem?”
“You,” I sighed, not giving a single fuck, mainly because I was drunk and high, but also because I was really sick of his fucking attitude. “You’re my problem. In fact, you’ve been my only problem since I moved to this city.”
Kyran’s eyes narrowed, and he began to crowd me a little. “Well, maybe if you would just stay away from me, we wouldn’t be having so many issues.”
Closing my eyes, I sucked in a deep breath, channeling every ounce of chill and Zen and whatever other namaste shit I had left. When I reopened them, he was still standing there glaring at me, which proves once and for all that prayers don’t do shit.
“You came over to me, Kyran,” I grumbled. “I was perfectly content forgetting who you are, just like I’ve been doing for months now.”
Micah started tugging on my sleeve. “Um… Avi? How do you know the Eagles quarterback? And why are you arguing with him…?”
We both ignored Micah as Kyran’s jaw started doing that visible tick thing I’ve seen way more times than I’d like to. “I came over here to tell you to fuck off.”
An incredulous laugh bubbled from my throat. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard! You came over here to start shit because you’re bored. What’s wrong, superstar?? Got no one to pick on now that we aren’t living together anymore?”
His lips parted like he was going to argue, but in my drunken surge of foolish confidence, I squared up to him and kept running my mouth.
“News flash, Ky… I don’t want to be near you any more than you want me near you. So if you could hop down from your egotistical high horse and take that giant studded stick out of your ass for long enough to enjoy a party, I’m sure you’d be doing everyone who knows you a huge favor.”
I knew right away that I’d fucked up when I saw how red his face was getting. I could actually feel the flames of searing hatred he was shooting at me through his eyes, like those laser beams Atreyu has to avoid in The Never Ending Story.
The Southern Oracle. Deep cut.
I’d never seen him so irate. I’m talking big, bulging vein in his forehead, muscles in his neck straining like a prize-winning stead… the works.
But it wasn’t until Micah whispered, “Holy fuck, you about to die,” and stepped away from me—out of possible beat-down range—that I noticed everyone else in the party was staring at us, too. Which was a very bad thing for me… Because it meant an artsy emo nerd had just stood up to the quarterback of the football team, something that doesn’t happen without retribution.
“Get the fuck outside now,” Kyran snarled. “I’m gonna beat the living shit out of you, Avi. Seriously, it’s been a long time coming. Get. The. Fuck. Outside.” His tone was so frighteningly calm, I couldn’t help how hard I was shaking in my Chucks.
But I stood my ground. I forced myself to stand still and hold his wrathful gaze.
“No,” I muttered, hoping like hell he hadn’t caught the tremor in my voice. “If you want to kick my ass, you’re gonna have to do it right here.” My eyes shifted left, then right before I whispered, “In front of all these witnesses.”
Kyran stepped in even closer to me, his warm breath hitting my face. I could practically taste it… Like mint and some kind of booze. It gave me chills, pumping my heart and rattling my bones.
“You must be… the stupidest stoner prick on the face of the earth,” he growled in my face. And I felt how tense he was, even though we weren’t touching. It was like the heat of rage in his muscles was transferring onto my body.
I thought I saw his arm move, and I couldn’t help flinching. I’ve never been a fighter. Sure, I’ve got balls and I like to talk shit, but that’s the beginning and end of it. I’m positive Kyran Harbor could easily waste me if he wanted to.
But I think the flinch saved me. Because his lips quirked in a very subtle smirk, as if he was pleased by how afraid of him I was. Then he fell back, just a couple of inches, and slapped his heavy hand down on my shoulder. Naturally, I flinched again, and his grin widened.
“Fine. You can have one more drink,” he rumbled. “But then you should leave, if you know what’s good for you.” He cocked his head. “After all, I’ll be seeing you at home tomorrow… bro.”
He turned and casually strutted away from me, rejoining his friends, the other spawns of Satan, in the fiery pits of Hell known as this party.
I let out the longest breath ever while all the onlookers resumed their partying, of course giggling and talking shit about me… The loser who just got his ass chewed out by the Eagles QB.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…” Micah murmured, having returned to my side. “That was downright terrifying. Why does that dude hate you so much?”
Irate glare fixed in Kyran’s direction, I watched him laugh and fuck around with his jock pals like nothing had happened. And I muttered, “He’s my stepbrother.”
So there you have it. That was my last actual encounter with Kyran, save for us continuing to avoid each other at home. We haven’t spoken a word since, and for the most part, it hasn’t been an issue… But that’s only because I haven’t shown up at another party he’s been at, and he can’t outright attack me at home, being clearly afraid of his father and all. It’s a lucky thing too, because I’ve been attending my fair share of parties, just not on his side of campus.
Ugh. I hate thinking about it as his side. It’s so fucking stupid. I haven’t done shit to the kid, but apparently, my mere existence is enough to piss him off.
Outside of Lyons, the three of us stop before heading inside.
“Come on, hurry up,” Frankie snaps her fingers at Zeb.
He takes a long drag from his vape, blowing a giant cloud of cotton candy-scented smoke in her face. “Take a chill pill, mama. We have a few minutes.”
She gives him a look, but then concedes and pulls out her own vape. “Alright, fine.”
I just chuckle, tugging my phone out of my pocket and standing next to the two of them while they fill the area with puffs of vapor.
“Where are you off to?” Zeb asks me in between drags.
“I have photography class,” I tell them while scrolling Instagram. “Then I’m gonna go smoke until I forget that I just barely passed my biology midterm.”
Zeb laughs. “Tell me about it. Thank God freshman year is over. All of the most heinous core classes are pretty much done.”
“Speak for yourself,” Frankie huffs. “The social work curriculum is insane. I’m already regretting this major.”
Their voices are fading out with my eyes set on my phone screen.
A picture of Kyran just popped up on my feed. It was posted by this girl Lexi Erikson. She’s a cheerleader, and your typical blonde bombshell, so of course she’s Kyran’s type. The picture looks like it was taken at a party. Kyran has his arm slung around Lexi’s shoulder and she’s nestling herself into his chest, making a kissy face up at him.
And the caption reads:
Love spending time with the sexiest QB in Eagles history! Can’t wait for training camp this summer! #BCEagles #Eaglesfootball #BCcheer #GoEagles #number9
I scoff and roll my eyes. It makes perfect sense that Kyran would get here and immediately cozy up to another cheerleader, just like he did in high school. It’s totally his MO. Not to mention, the dude is an all-star football player already.
Superstar Stepbrother. Why am I not surprised?
“Hey, check this out!” Frankie’s voice tugs my attention away from the picture that’s rumbling my gut, and I glance up. She’s pointing at a flyer pinned on one of the Job Listings boards. “They’re looking for someone to be the football team’s mascot!”
She rips the sheet off, and Zeb peers over her shoulder to read. “Oh my God!” He cackles. “Baldwin the Eagle. That’s hilarious.” His face snaps in my direction. “You should totally do it!”
I stare at him for a solid three seconds in baffled silence before a burst of laughter flies from my lips. “Yea… Good one.”
“No, seriously!” Zeb slaps his hands together. “It would be so cute! Avi the Eagle.”
I shake my head. “You’re certifiable.”
“He has a point!” Frankie says animatedly. And now I’m growing even more horrified. “Then you could come to games with us!”
“Okay, I’m starting to think you’re not joking… and it’s worrying me.” I give them my most bewildered look.
“I’m not joking.” Zeb grins deviously.
“Neither am I,” Frankie adds, stepping over and shoving the paper in my face. “I’m sure it would be so much fun. And you’d practically be part of the team.”
“I don’t want to be part of the team,” I grumble, eyeing her like she’s lost her marbles.
She cocks her head. “Why… Because of Kyran?”
“No,” I scoff, then chew on my lower lip for a moment. “Not only because of him. I just don’t want to waste my Friday nights prancing around dressed like an eagle. I didn’t think I’d need to explain that to you, but apparently, you guys don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”
They both laugh. “Come on, Avi!” Zeb sighs. “You should consider doing something other than fucking off in class and smoking weed.”
“Hey, that’s not fair!” I frown. “I also like to get drunk.” He shakes his head. “And I draw. That’s what I do in my free time, and I like it that way.” Frankie and Zeb share a look, to which I roll my eyes. “And I just don’t think I should willfully invite another reason for Kyran to start shit with me. He hates me enough as it is…”
Frankie rubs my arm. “Don’t let your evil stepbrother stand in the way of your happiness, Av.”
Another laugh trickles. “You think wearing an eagle costume at football games is happiness??”
“I’m just saying…” She giggles. “It would be something new and fun for you to do.”
Looking over the flyer, I grin at the picture of Baldwin the Eagle. It’s fully ridiculous. But I can’t deny that its goofiness is sort of endearing.
“And… just think of how much more you could mess with Kyran…” Frankie sings in my ear.
“Yea!” Zeb cheers, still wearing his wicked smirk. “Superstar quarterback boy needs to be taken down a peg.”
My eyes flit up to his, and my lips curl.
He has a point.
It’s our last night in the dorms before summer break.
Freshman year at BC is officially in the books, and I’m excited to report that I survived. Dare I say, I even enjoyed myself.
We’re all hanging out in Frankie’s dorm room, smoking some kush, sipping some Rosé, and helping her pack up the last of her stuff. When I first got here, I thought I’d be anxious as hell to get home for summer break, to see Mom and get away from all the schooling and whatnot. But now that the time has come, I’m actually kind of bummed. I’m gonna miss living here, with all my awesome new friends. Being able to see them whenever I want, shooting the shit in between classes, having lunch together every day.
I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait for fall so I can get back here.
“Ohhh, snap!” Zeb shouts, jumping up onto the table. “Roomie alert!”
He’s holding his phone up and pointing to Micah.
Mic’s face lights up. “No way! Really? We got it??”
“Yea, baby!” Zeb is shimmying around while Micah stands up and starts doing the robot. “We’re in Welch. Third floor.”
“Ooh, that’s a good floor,” Bea chimes in while stuffing a bunch of books into a box. “I made out with two redheads on that floor. A girl and a guy.”
“At the same time?” I ask through a grin, and she winks at me.
Bea is a super chill girl. She’s Frankie’s roommate, and totally gorgeous. Fair skin, dark hair that’s long and curly and always smells incredible. We made out once when we first met. We were drunk, and it was fun, but we both agreed not to do it again because we didn’t want to make things weird. At this point, I’m trying to keep my dick away from people inside my friend group.
“Avi! Will you help me, please?” Frankie shouts from inside her bedroom.
Getting up, I’m laughing at Zeb and Micah, who are still dancing in celebration of the news that they get to room together next semester, while I walk around the corner into Frankie’s room.
“Aw, man! You already packed up the Mothman picture I drew for you,” I whine and pout at the empty space on her wall.
Frankie laughs. “Duh. It’s one of my most prized possessions. Here, grab this and wrap it in some bubble wrap for me, please.” She hands me a ring light.
“Why do you have so much filming equipment?” I ask, trying to be as careful as possible wrapping her expensive stuff.
Frankie gives me a look, full lips painted with bright purple lipstick sloping into a smirk. “I can’t tell you my secrets, Vega. You might think differently of me.”
I cackle out loud. “Right. Clearly you don’t know who you’re talking to…”
She stops what she’s doing and picks up her phone. Messing around on the screen, she taps and taps as she struts over to me. Then she hands it to me.
My brows knit together as I take it, eyes sliding over the screen. It’s an OnlyFans account. And the profile picture shows a girl that’s obviously her wearing a mask, with the username, FrankieSaysRelax.
“Oh my God, is this you?!” My mouth hangs open while I scroll through the account.
It’s not a subscriber’s account… She’s a creator.
My eyes bug out of my skull. “Holy smokes, you’re naked!”
She belts a laugh, snatching the phone from me. “Alright, Pervy McCreeperson. Calm down.”
I clear my throat. “Yea, I think I need to check out more of that stellar content.” I reach for her phone again, but she pulls it away, chuckling.
“You gotta pay to play,” she hums and wiggles her eyebrows. “Just for shorty bang bang to look your way.”
“Backstreet.” I grin. “Nice.
“Thanks.”
“Okay… what?!” I gasp, then lower my voice, quickly peeking at the doorway to make sure no one’s listening. “You have an OnlyFans??”
Frankie nods. “Hell yea. The money is on point.”
My eyebrow jumps. “Really?”
“Ohhh yeaaa,” she sighs. “I just started it this year, and I already almost have enough to get my own place off campus!”
“What?!” I shout again, and her eyes widen.
“Shhh! Be cool, baby. Damn.” She looks to the doorway. “No one knows. Except Bea.”
My mind is reeling. I can’t believe what she’s telling me. My friend, darling little Frances Dumonte, has been showing her naked body online for money?!
I’m actually not all that surprised. If anyone I know was going to do it, it’d be her. She’s sort of a wild child.
“Wow…” My eyes slide up and down her. I can’t help looking at her differently now, saucy little minx that she is. “That’s awesome. So… do you only do solo videos, or do you ever invite… guests?”
Her smile goes wide. “Are you asking to make a cameo, Vega?”
I can’t help how much heat is rushing to my face. My eyes fall to my feet. “Me?? No way. I don’t think I could pull that off…”
“You’d be surprised,” she croons, then taps me on the butt. “Okay, playtime is over. Back to work.”
Shaking off all this new information, I go back to helping her pack up the rest of her stuff. But the whole time, my mind is stuck on Frankie’s side hustle, wondering what she does, and how much she makes.
It’s pretty interesting. Subscription services for content creators is a rapidly growing business, and porn… Well, porn will always be a massive enterprise. I’ve personally never subscribed to any OnlyFans accounts, but I’ve certainly seen people promoting them… on the dark side of Twitter. And in clips on PornHub.
My thoughts are swirling as we finish up the packing, then order pizza. And just as Zeb is lighting up our farewell joint, my phone chimes in my pocket.
Pulling it out, I tap the screen to find an email from BC Housing.
“Oh shit… It’s here,” I whisper, opening the email while saying a silent prayer that I’ll be near my friends.
“Fingers crossed for Welch!” Micah chirps.
“Or Roncalli!” Bea adds.
“Yea, and hopefully you get to room with someone a little more fun than Finn.” Zeb smirks.
“Hey, at least my roommate is quiet, and clean. Unlike yours.” I peek at him, and he rolls his eyes.
Zeb couldn’t get away from his current roommate, Evan, fast enough. He’s a preppy jock, just like Kyran. Only he’s also a slob and a half who blasts country music every morning at six a.m.
“If I hear ‘Save a Horse, Ride A Cowboy’ one more time, I’ll stand behind said horse and let it kick me in the face,” Zeb mutters, and we all laugh. “But still… only slightly worse than your roomie, who I honest to God think might be a serial killer.”
