real? Which Day was the real one? Were any of them real? Jackson walked into the kitchen and poured himself a finger of whiskey, gulping it straight down. Three days in and Day was twisting Jackson into knots. What would a lifetime feel like?
Jackson’s stomach burned, but he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the thought of a lifetime with Day.
Day managed to keep his steps smooth and his glide across the living room to the stairs slow and steady. He gripped the banister on either side to keep his hands from shaking. It was just a scene. It was just a scene. The camera lens between them was supposed to keep some distance. If the camera was on them then this was all for show. A way to bring a new audience, to make some money. That’s all he needed. Money. Enough money to get out of Los Angeles for good, his promise be damned.
It wasn’t like Day hadn’t tried. He had. But he wasn’t smart or talented like Sarah. When she was on stage, people couldn’t take their eyes off of her. Day was pretty enough, and with Sarah around to help him memorize his scripts, he’d even gotten a couple of bit parts and walk-on roles, but it wasn’t enough to keep food on their table…or get Sarah the medications she needed.
Day blinked back tears and forced the thought of Sarah from his head. He couldn’t let himself think about her. She’d just have to understand that Los Angeles had been her dream, not his. He was her people, she’d been the star. He transferred the video to his laptop. Uploading the video was muscle memory at this point, but he still needed his voice to text options to create a caption that would hopefully get him more tips. He took a deep breath as the video began to upload. Get him more tips and potentially antagonize a stalker, who Jackson thought was willing to kill for him.
Jackson. What was Day supposed to do about him? Jackson was big and strong and just so rock steady. Whenever Day was near him, everything just felt…safe. Day felt safe—safe from the constant turmoil that rocked him almost daily. Did he have food, and if he had food, did he have rent, and if he made rent, could he still pay for the internet and bus fare? Those things still existed. He still needed money to pay his bills, but, somehow, Jackson made all the noise in Day’s head go quiet for a little bit, and it was such a good feeling, Day had slipped. He’d stayed on his knees, the concrete balcony floor pushing tiny microscopic grains into his flesh, just to rest his head on Jackson’s thigh, just to feel his fingers push through his hair, like somebody gave a fuck about him. Like Jackson gave a fuck about him.
Why couldn’t Jackson see that he was tying Day in knots with his strong hands and soft lips and dirty talk that liquified Day’s insides? Jackson was perfect. A walking fantasy. Gorgeous, funny, successful. The perfect Daddy. Day’s perfect Daddy. Which was why he needed to pull it together. The wall he’d built wasn’t nearly high enough for somebody like Jackson. He was too steady, too persistent. He’d patiently erode Day’s walls, like water beating against rock, day after day. He could feel that. Jackson looked at Day like he was worthy of somebody like Jackson, but it just wasn’t true. Jackson needed somebody who could match his success, who could be his equal. Somebody who could read past a third grade level and not stutter anytime he was overwhelmed.
If Day was braver, he’d just say so. But he wasn’t. Instead, he’d hide in his room and work on building better walls. But, in the deepest parts of his core, he knew it didn’t matter. If Jackson wanted something from Day, he’d try to give it to him. At least, physically. He’d just come so hard, he was sure his heart was going to explode, but if Jackson walked in there and ordered Day onto his knees again, he wouldn’t refuse. If Jackson wanted any part of Day, he’d give it to him. Day could give Jackson his body, even if it broke him in the end. It would be worth it. Something Jackson could tuck away and pull out, like a photograph or souvenir. A tether to something he had almost had.
When the video finally loaded,