Ever since Colin moved, Julien has missed the feeling of a man’s fingers near his skin. The heat of proximity. The allure of bodies pressed together. But he knows that’s not what this is. Greg is helping him put clotheson, not take themoff. Greg isn’t even interested in him. He’s interested in guys like Braydon and the pilot. Confident guys. Guys with more game than Julien could ever have.
Julien severely needs to find his chill.
Greg comes around the front and fixes Julien’s collar. “There. Just don’t turn around, and we’ll be all good.”
“Thanks.” Julien grabs back any errant lust that might still be floating around in the air.
“I wrote up some ideas for us. Let me text them to you.”
Julien’s phone lights up with a message. “These are all great.” Clearly Greg has put a lot of effort into this, and he admires that. He knows nothing about going viral or setting trends or whatever else happens on these apps.
“Cool. Thanks. So we’ll just start with the first one and see how it goes?”
It takes a while for Julien to warm up. He’s nervous, obviously. It’s not like they’ve gone live or anything, but he still wants these to be good. That pressure makes his hands shake while pouring wine, causing little spills and retakes.
Greg, however, is patient with him. Never pushing. Never looking for perfection. “People like the little slipups. Makes this highly produced content feel off-the-cuff, ya know?”
Julien did know. He had fallen for Greg’s content previously. He had imagined the real kitchen and the haphazard camera placement and the little jokes he thought Greg came up with on the spot. Turns out, it was all fabricated for optimal views. It was genius.
Gregwas a genius.
From the way he adjusted the camera to enhance the angle and downloaded a teleprompter app on his tablet for Julien to read off of when he couldn’t remember his lines, it was all so professional and straightforward. Greg’s creative competence sparked off his every move.
And over the next hour, Greg gives Julien a crash course in charisma. Julien seriously thinks he should be paying for this level of expertise. It’s like he takes each tip and applies it through sheer will, and perhaps osmosis?
Just as Julien is about to finish a perfect line delivery, his phone chimes with a notification that ruins the take and the congenial vibe they were finally starting to settle into.
Eleven
GREG
Greg happens to be closer to the bed when Julien’s phone goes off. It lights up on the floral patchwork quilt Rufus dug out of a mostly disused linen closet the day Greg arrived. Weirdly, he’s grown to like it even if it’s ratty.
Greg didn’t think twice before reaching for the device. He isn’t concerned about the TikTok. They’ll just refilm. He is, however, concerned about how embarrassed Julien looks when he says, “Grindr, huh?”
He didn’t mean for the question to come out judgmentally. Just because he doesn’t use that particular app, doesn’t mean he holds some moral high ground.
Julien angles away to swipe at the notification. “Surprised you even knew what that was.” He’s back to being prickly.
Crap.Greg was really starting to settle into their easy interactions as they filmed the videos—playful and comfortable. But, of course, he had to go and open his big mouth.
“What kind of rock would I have to live under not to know what Grindr is?” Greg tries to defuse the newfound tension in his room by deploying a joking tone, but Julien’s shoulders only ride up farther.
“I mean, you’re you. You don’t need the apps like the rest of us plebs.”
Greg doesn’t play dumb. He knows Julien’s referring to his looks, and not in a very nice way. “I don’t see how me being conventionally attractive excludes me from using a hookup app...”
Julien goes silent for a second. Maybe he wasn’t expecting Greg to call it out for what it was so simply. Greg finds that whenever somebody boils his essence down tohimboit is better to address the matter than let it slide.
“It doesn’t,” Julien rebuffs. “I’m just saying you have no trouble picking up guys at work.”
Greg is completely taken aback by this, becoming too hot under the lights. “I haven’t picked up any guys at work.”
Julien puts his phone away and shoots Greg a quizzical look. “I saw you driving Braydon home that first night, and that Yelp review was about you slipping that pilot your number.”
Greg has been questioning how connected istooconnected with the patrons at Martin’s Place. He’s not an idiot. He had somewhat of a playboy reputation in New York. How could he not? He was dating fellow underwear-shot-posting influencer Stryker Storm.
But he’s been lonely since moving out here, and with his anxiety disorder it’s often hard to tell if someone is looking for friendship or something more. With the pilot, Greg saw the wedding ring. He thought he was safe from advances, from jealous spouses, from Julien’s accusations. But maybe his instructors at the academy were right: he is too gullible and trusting, too willing to see the good in all people he crosses paths with.
