Luka’s eyes widened at the photo of Reno, half in the lap of the lead singer from Hearts n Hell. They were both pink in the cheeks and smiling. Almost out of frame, Luka could make out the back half of Zana’s head, his bleached blond hair wavy where it had come undone from its braids. Reno was blue-eyed, smiling widely and throwing up matching devil horns with Christoph. Who, quite frankly, looked particularly too comfortable having Reno nearly in his lap.
Not that Luka would mind being in his position.
He got it. It looked comfortable. He did not blame Christoph in the slightest.
[Unknown Number]
Do you text everyone like this?
I'm not complaining, btw
No! T-yan has been making fun of my phone time. I'm usually not on it. Is it ok I sent you some picture?
Yes, that's okay.
More than okay, actually. But Luka didn’t want to come off as obsessed. Someone coughed and he realized he had just been standing in the middle of the aisle without moving, blocking the way with his cart.
“Sorry," he said to the lady behind him, who scanned him up and down through her false eyelashes before giving him a dirty look and passing by. “Or, not.” Luka rolled his eyes.
[Unknown Number]
Were you talking about me to Christoph?
Even the concept of Reno talking to another famous musician about him was daunting, so before he could get a response, he tucked his phone into his pocket and moved to check out from the store, grabbing a drink from the fridge when he did. He cringed at the cost of everything before lugging the bags to the car and driving home.
“Hey, need a hand?” August pulled into the driveway at the same time as him and rushed over to his car to take the milk and toilet paperbefore leading the way inside. “You would not believe how rude everyone was to me today. I mean, me, littlest guy on the planet, and yet somehow I’m at fault for not having the shipment of powder blue one hundred and ten pound cardstock on the shelves. We told the guy that he just ordered it yesterday, things don’t shipthatfast! And what does he do?” August set the milk on the counter a bit too forcefully. “He pointed at the only white man working in the art store and went, ‘hey you! Tell your employee to stop giving me sass’.”
“Ouch," Luka said, putting the bag of pretzels into the basket on the counter.
“Sass? What year is it, nineteen ninety-nine? Eighteen ninety-nine? Can’t a white guy bemyemployee?”
“He’s not, though.”
“Well, no! But it’s the principle of it. Why assume just because I look like a woman, I’m not in charge?”
“I think it’s because you look fourteen.” Luka shrugged then dodged the roll of toilet paper August hurled at him.
“Don’t you start, mister five foot six, can’t grow facial hair.”
“You’re so mean to me.” Luka picked up the toilet paper and handed it back to them. “I am five foot six and a half, thank you.”
“That half inch isn’t doing you any favors.”
“That’s not what he said.”
“Horrible. I know you don’t top a damn soul.” August stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Luka laughing alone.
“You don’t know my life!” he called after them and heard the bathroom door slam. He leaned his elbows onto the kitchen island and pulled out his phone again, only to find four texts from Reno, three of which were photos.
He craned his neck to peer down the hallway, but August was busy doing something in the bathroom, so he opened the first one, tilting the phone away from the hallway slightly, just in case.
It was a selfie, Reno’s startling blue contacts staring right into the camera and his sleek blond hair feathered perfectly over one side of his face. Luka zoomed in a little; one of the contacts was askew, and the imperfection only added to the charm of it all—a little flaw in Reno’s otherwise perfect photo.
He saved the selfie to his phone.
The second was everyone else at the table. Clearly, Reno had just turned the camera around and told everyone to smoosh together. King and two other people had to crowd in over the booth, standing up while the members of Hearts n Hell and Voltage, minus Reno, crammed together to fit in the frame. They looked like they were having fun and Luka had to wonder if they always had this good of a time.
The last picture was another selfie, but it was blurry and someone’s arms were wrapping around Reno. He was laughing, eyes creased shut, and Luka noticed his bottom teeth were slightly crooked. He pressed his tongue ring against the permanent retainer they put on his bottom teeth after his bracescame off in middle school and felt for a moment that it was dangerously intimate for a photo like this one to end up in Luka’s inbox. He was seeing sides of Reno that weren’t shown to the public. Things that were probably private. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Reno do more than smirk in press release images. Why in the world was this happening to him?
