The morning after, Parker was alone.

His head hurt. He was coated in an uncomfortable sheen of sweat - half from the feeling of raging sunlight against his skin, and half from laying all night on the couch. There was a distinct, rhythmic pounding within his mind; a headache he couldn't shake away in fear of it worsening.

When Parker opened his eyes, he shut them again. It was bright. Too bright - like he'd forgotten to brace himself for the sunlight's impact. If he weren't so out of it, he would've made a joke about being a Vampire.

But to who?

Tendrils of light shone through the blinds - they were open now, but he didn't know why. He hadn't opened them; he liked things dark. After all, he was a bit of a nocturnal being... the eye-bags hanging black beneath his eyelids proved such. It was hard for him to get to bed in a productive hour.

He sat up - that made his head churn, and his stomach swirl. He'd never been a fan of an early breakfast, but now—

He stopped.

Parker brought a hand to his forehead. In-between the way his head span, he felt himself lose his sense of time. It was a common happenstance due to his totally screwed sleep schedule, but today - out of all days - he felt worse. He knew the taste of beer rolling out of his mouth and intoxicating his breath. He was used to it. He recognised it.

He rubbed his eyes.

There was a buzz from the coffee table. He didn't remember putting his phone there.

Despite feeling so sick, Parker turned and reached his hand towards his phone; he leaned forward just enough to see the time and not double over with the urge to vomit.

3:03 PM.

Parker's eyes widened at the sight of four missed calls and six messages all from the same person. Burns, his coworker. Why would she be messaging him this much?

He felt worse than before - a queasy uneasiness set out within him, spreading like roots. He read from the bottom.

9:37 AM : 'Hey' , followed by a 9:40 AM : 'U there?'

"No, Burns." He thought it more to himself than anybody in the room - it was deep, croaky, and sleepy. He'd be crazy to wake up that early.

10:05 AM : 'Are we shooting the video today?'

Parker furrowed his eyebrows. Confusion set in.

10:31 AM : 'Hello ? You replied to my email last night. Where are you??'

Email?

He tried to think, looking to his laptop. Email, email, email. He got lots of emails.

His laptop wasn't on the kitchen table - instead, it was on a chair, right by the fireplace to his left. He didn't remember putting it there.

12:00 PM : 'Come to set. Almost 1.'

12:27 PM : 'Chester isn't here. Where are you?'

He thought of the name. Chester, his best friend. Chester.

Fuck.

He dropped his phone against the drawer. His headache somehow moved its way upwards; giving his brain a heavy feeling. His stomach did the opposite. It lurched in denial. Dismissing everything, telling him 'No, No, No'.

What happened the night before loomed over his mind in the form of a simple sentence.

What have I done?

He reached for his phone. His hands shook lightly as he picked it up with both hands, holding it with a force repelled by his own regret. Regret, or something similar, like nausea. The headache returning alongside his queasiness forced him to sit down.

Anxiously, he scoured his notifications, searching, but not hoping, for a familiar contact. He waited for Chester's name to pop up, and he waited for his reprimand. But there was nothing. No messages aside from Burns'.

Somehow, that made his sudden nausea worsen.

He'd become familiar with the feeling of danger on his fingertips - something he taunted himself with by quickly touching a candle and pulling away from the fire. Last night, he'd embraced it; he'd become apart of the flame, and in turn, burned away.

The fact that Chester hadn't once texted him, or called, meant that he screwed up.

He had to fix this.

Parker put in his passcode with shaky hands. He hovered over the green Messenger icon before pressing it with his finger. It wasn't hard to find the contact he needed to speak to.

'Chester,' he began to write absentmindedly. His brain tried to force something out of him. A plead for forgiveness, or some sort of apology. All he could write was his best friend's name. It was all he could think about.

Chester...

He brought a hand to his head as the migraine worsened. It spread within him like he could feel it; roots splitting across his brain, infecting him with a terrible, terrible pain. He felt like shit.

But if there was anything he was good at, it was being stubborn. He wouldn't let himself go if he didn't at least try to talk to Chester.

'Chester,' he wrote again. He blinked, and then he let himself go.

'I'm sorry. Idk what I was thinking last night. We were supposed to be working. We were both drunk and I don't want you to think badly of me because of what happened. I hope we can just move on from it.' 

He lingered over the last sentence. He thought about how sorry he was, and he couldn't stop thinking.

When he pressed send, he dropped his phone on the drawer again, and headed to the bathroom.

...

Parker stepped into a hot shower before leaving his house.

He'd set up his phone nearby, playing music he'd listened to enough to consider something he liked. He never really had a preference; he just let it play, because nothing was worse than silence.

In the shower, he was silent.

Beads of water fell against him, slithering down, and off onto the ground. He could feel the steam rising from the top - the heat came in pulses, as did his headache. It was rhythmic, but refused to be tranquil.

He tried not to think about Chester.

Chester, who was his best friend.

Chester, who he savoured so much.

Chester, who he'd made out with last night.

His head fell to his hands. He backed against the shower's wall. He let the music soak in, because the water wasn't enough to ease his migraine.

Each chord was a way to escape; he loved danger, but he was afraid to face the consequences. The music helped him go away. Just for a moment.

His mind flashed back to everything. Everything he could remember, at least.

Flashing illuminance from the headlights outside. The fireplace. Fire, and danger, pulling him in. The feeling of Chester. His lips. His...

Parker turned the knobs of the shower handles sideways, and the water stopped.

He waited there, just for a moment.

Because he was not ready to face what he'd done.

...

"Look who finally picked up."

Burns' voice came out loud and angered over the speaker of his phone. He was on the road, now - he was driving to his set, despite what waited for him.

"Slept in again." Parker replied, simply.

"I know you did. That's why I stopped texting after one."

He stifled a laugh, but he knew it could be heard from his obvious chuckle.

"Well, I'm on my way now."

"The only thing you're on the way to is a punch in the face."

She sounded serious.

"Cool."

But he knew better than to take it that way.

"Seriously, though, I'm on my way."

He heard shuffling — presumably footsteps — on the other line.

"We've waited long enough." He knew it was Burns moving, but a part of him wondered if it were Chester. Chester listening in, not saying a word. Angry or otherwise.

He wanted to act like feeling Chester's presence there was something he was excited about.

There was silence - well, silence if it were the beeps of traffic - and Parker thought to himself. The longer he delayed the inevitable, the more time he'd have to hide from it.

His head turned as he came to a red light. His eyes scoured the bustling downtown area for a distraction.

"If I... went and bought you food, would you still wanna punch me?"

Silence again. Traffic silence.

"Would you buy me food?" Burns seemed intrigued.

"Yeah." Parker looked closer. The logo to a well-known fast food company hit him right in his vision. 

"Uhh..." He knew he had won before she even said anything, but he let her go on for the satisfaction of hearing it himself. "Then yeah. I'd leave your face alone. But it's not like me giving you a black eye would make a difference, your eyebags already make it look like-"

"Awesome. See you in a bit." He hung up.

For a moment, he felt normal.

Parker wanted to let the normal seep in. He wanted to run far away, escaping the danger. For now, he knew he could.

He could focus on the past, but that was yesterday. He could focus on the future, but that would be later. Maximising the present was the only way he could keep himself from a complete self-destruction.

Parker ended up reading the email he was supposed to. Burns offered a new video idea - she normally handled the management side of things. He was thankful for that. She seemed to have already paid an actor and an actress for their video; she made it clear that it was more of a demand than a request that they film it. Somehow, he was thankful for that too. He was in that mindset while he drove.

He just hoped he could stay that way for the hours to come.

...

Parker spent the rest of his day anxious. His attempts at prying into normalcy only lasted so long - he knew that it would end quickly, but it still felt worse than he'd expected. He spent the first hour with Burns, avoiding the obvious explanation he owed her for his absence. He spent the next getting the feel of the rented-out house he'd have to film in. The hours came in quick blips, each passing faster than the next, and he couldn't shake the feeling of dread from his figure. The more time he spent not knowing why Chester hadn't shown up, the more he felt like he'd ruined everything.

At some point, Burns tried to catch up to him - he would never stay in a room too long, and would never converse with anyone longer than he had to. Parker was stubborn, and he normally had a lot to say. It just didn't feel right.

"You alright?" She leaned against the doorframe.

Parker stopped his obsessive pacing to look up at her. 

"Yeah." He obviously wasn't, but the last thing he wanted to do was tell anyone how his day had gone. More importantly, how his day was going.

"Chester isn't here." Burns pointed out the obvious. Her tone was knowing, like somehow - without having to ask - she knew Parker had something to do with it.

"I know." He felt the need to fill the silence that came afterwards. "I didn't see him this morning."

Burns' hair seemed lighter than it was normally. Burgundy, but in the tint, a lighter brown. "He's the one that replied to my email, though, right?"

"What?"

"About the filming today. He wrote back and said he'd be here, but he's not. He didn't say anything about you, but I just assumed..." She trailed off as Parker's face became more distraught in expression.

"Have you tried calling him?"

"Yes, multiple times." Her eyebrows furrowed. "Have you?"

Parker couldn't bring himself to respond. His mouth hung agape - just slightly - and that was all Burns needed.

"What's going on? You're, like..." Burns squinted her eyes, "Pale." She leaned off the doorframe, keeping her arms crossed, "Paler than usual."

"I'm fine."

"Are you gonna be able to film today?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

She didn't give up. "We can schedule it for some other day."

"Burns."

"I mean, Chester isn't even here."

"Burns."

She didn't give up, but she didn't want to continue, either.

"Okay... well," She sighed, swerving on her heel to face the opposite direction, "Just give Chester a call. Let me know where he's at and we'll reschedule."

He opened his mouth to talk as she walked away. He started to say something, but he felt his pocket vibrate. His phone buzzed.

He stopped himself to take it in. Parker had wanted to make contact with Chester all day, but now, he hoped to God that the buzz was anything other but a message from him.

But, like his headache, Chester must've known that it was the perfect time to jab at him.

'Hey it's ok. Barely even remember last night. All G'

Parker hovered over the message with his finger. It was from Chester, of course, but it wasn't the answer he'd expected.

He'd expected a reprimand - a declaration of the end of their friendship, or some sort of 'fuck you'. He hadn't expected to be completely blown off.

No, no, no.

If Parker had remembered that much, Chester had to as well. It didn't make sense. Why would he even treat that night like it was forgettable?

Perhaps it was the way Chester worded it. Maybe it was the lack of wording entirely. Something about the message made his stomach churn - more than it had before. There was no questioning to his apologies, despite his claim to not remember.

He tried to write another message.

'Oh, okay.', 'Fuck you.', and finally, 'It's not fair.' All things be typed out, but was too scared to send. Things quickly coursing through his mind — his, for some reason, angered mind — the headache messed with him more and more as waves of agitated heat washed over him.

He didn't understand why he felt the way he did - why he wrote what he did, and why he didn't send it... as far as he was concerned, he would've preferred Chester remembered nothing. The night before was an embarrassment. A mistake. Something that ruined what they had.

But it hadn't, because now he was staring at his phone, forced to act like that night didn't matter.

He paused. He took a breath. Maybe he was overreacting.

But if Chester truly didn't care at all about the events of the night before, why did Parker care so much?

...

Parker knew he wasn't the best person. In all aspects.

He knew that better than anyone, because he spent copious amounts of his alone time beating himself up for the downsides... he truly believed every right in him had a wrong; like an unfinished character made by a person who wanted to demonise him.

Also, because he was Parker. He was kind of supposed to know himself.

He was selfish. Stubborn. Strong-willed, and very opinionated. Those who opposed him would go down with an iron-fisted-fight.

But he could also be confident. He knew when and when not to laugh, which may not sound like much of a positive, but could come in handy. He also was surprisingly good at driving a situation. A natural leader. Powerful.

He could do big things for his friends because he had that power - he had that money, and showed his affection through presents. When his mind became too foggy to speak, he put his message into a gift.

Most of the time, the gifts were money, but Parker knew that wasn't a bad thing.

He wasn't the only one guilty of the reckless spending he masked as kindness - Chester was similar, especially because he had much less to say. There was an obvious difference in their dynamic; Parker spoke up, and Chester didn't.

One, the hare, and the other, the tortoise. Completely different wavelengths. Somehow, they had the exact same love language.

Mainly because they both shared the money they gained.

Parker smiled. A part of him really enjoyed the domestic aspects of their relationship. As much as he liked solitude, coming home to a familiar face was the best part of his day. When things were bad, there was always a shoulder to cry on, because he didn't have to worry about saying goodbye. No trips that ended in the month coming and no sad departures. Just Chester, and Parker, as two peas in a pod.

The fact that Parker was alone, still, even after the day he spent with Burns, seemed like it were directly aimed to flick the back of his head. A sort of 'Told you so', Without ever knowing what he was told.

The night's blackness cooled everything down. He felt more at home that way; the moon's illuminance fuelled him like crazy energy even he couldn't explain. Now that he wasn't as sick, he could think. Finally.

Throughout his day, his patience was tested - everything that happened always seemed a little too out of balance; like the feeling of accidentally blasting music in the middle of the night, or letting a bath drain loudly while everyone else sleeps. Always on edge, wondering what might happen if the mistake is acknowledged.

When he'd grown tired of being on edge, he thought about Chester. Memories they shared, because he always felt better knowing someone was there to stick it out with him.

He remembered the time Chester went above and beyond for one of their videos. A gift - a prank, or surprise, just for Parker. He'd gone out and bought a whole pig. He wore his sunglasses the entire drive - and when he came home, he fed the pig slop in Parker's brand new tesla.

A dick move, but definitely one Parker laughed at for hours. After the angry part, of course.

He remembered watching the video over and over again just to see his own reaction at the end.

Angry when he opened the door. Angry when he looked back to Chester. Much less angry when he'd learned the pig's name, and unable to hide his smile when he came face-to-face with it.

He remembered Chester's stupid overalls and straw hat - holding the pig in his arms with a smile. The stupidest thing he'd done in a long time.

He remembered the even stupider banter between them.

'We don't need a pig,' Parker said. 'He's so cute, though.' Chester replied.

'He's a new member of the family,' Chester said. 'We already have a dog.' Parker replied.

Parker grinned. They were a family - they both acknowledged it, and it didn't seem weird when they mentioned it. It was an unspoken domesticity the both of them enjoyed.

The sound of a car in the distance honking flickered the present back into his field of vision.

He was on his sofa - black, linen, with just enough leg room for him to lay down. He had his with his phone out; his grip had meaning, like he was scrolling through something before he'd absentmindedly pulled himself into his daydream.

He looked over to the windows; through the blinds, night shone in dark purples and blues.

Chester used to complain that the windows in the house showed too much. For some reason, blinds were a must, and no matter where they were the topic would always be brought up.

'When are we getting the blinds', 'Why haven't we bought blinds yet', like it was always going to happen, even when Parker said it wouldn't. Chester had that kind of power over him; to get him to lean and bend to everything he wanted, because he just couldn't bring himself to say no.

He always wanted to be the puppeteer, but Chester truly knew how to pull the strings.

It wasn't a bad thing; it was just the fact that Chester knew him well enough to silently communicate what he wanted, so it baffled him that some nights he'd bring home takeaway despite not wanting to the hours before.

But that was okay, because it was a playful sort of knowing. A type that made him smile when he thought about it; a fond 'Dang, he really made me do that', and a sweet savour.

Parker savoured Chester for everything he did. Everything was about him. Always Chester. Chester, Chester, Chester. Sometimes, Chester was all he thought about.

So to not have Chester there, again, at the house they shared, was the indicator that it was time to atone.

Obviously, Parker didn't get to film in the hours before the present. He spent them with Burns and the actresses. Small talk, laughs, but nervous glances around the room. A look to the door every now and then, because Parker wanted to catch Chester walking in. The last thing he needed was to be caught off guard.

He spent hours doing that. Talking, laughing, then looking back to the front door. Every creak or knock startled him. He expected it to be Chester every time, even when he was told specifically it was someone else.

It was never Chester. Chester didn't show up. Didn't respond to Burns' many 'Where are you's, or 'Get over here's, blowing up his phone.

She made sure to call him at least ten times.

Parker didn't call, or message.

He ended up not telling anyone that Chester had responded to him before, even when everyone was begging him to figure out if he was awake.

He was going to say something in the moment, but he had the lingering feeling that someone might ask to see what he sent. He knew that was selfish.

But he wasn't ready - he didn't want to risk it. He didn't want anyone to know what had happened.

A part of him also needed Chester's attention all to himself, because he was selfish, and he was so obsessed with the two of them being closer than anyone else that sometimes he convinced himself he wasn't.

But even while he had Chester's attention, he didn't write back.

The two texts from 'Today, 3:14 PM' and 'Today, 5:48 PM' were all he stared at for a long time.

He was too scared to write back. He didn't want to write something he'd regret, but he still wanted to write.

But he couldn't. Maybe he was a bad person for that.

He switched back to the present for a moment, and shook his head. No.

He wasn't the best person, but he wanted to believe he could be good when he wanted to be. He could atone. He had to believe that penance was achievable.

The more he sat alone, moonlight eating away at his pores, he felt the cold sheen of loneliness set in. Normally, Chester would be there to fill that void. It was a big house for a reason.

Parker wanted Chester to come home. He didn't like being alone.

But if he wanted it so badly, why was it that hard to call him?

Parker sighed.

Because he was scared.

Acknowledging it was one thing; atoning was another.

Parker's nerves tensed within him. He thought about how the call between them might go; awkward, and mean, and perhaps an ending of friendships. He could feel the lurching nausea eating away at him again.

Anxiety spread inside him like roots, spelling 'Chester' with every pulse of edge.

Chester. Chester. Chester.

He'd been thinking all this time about fixing what he'd done, but he hadn't even acted on it. He just kept sitting there.

The urge to move and the urge to stay put fought for imbalance.

Parker picked up his phone. His hands where shaky again. He tried to fight the need to run to his bathroom and vomit his feelings away.

He brought himself to the messages app again. The first contact was Chester. He stared at it. Chester. Chester. Chester.

His finger hovered over it, but he was scared.

Parker clicked on the contact below. Burns.

His fingers shook, but he pressed the 'Call' button with haste.

He waited.

"Parker?"

"Hey." The voice inside his head had sounded so different. The chords that came out of his mouth were the mask of his own fear. He had to stay calm.

"It's late. What?" She asked it bluntly, but seemed more concerned with anything.

"Can't we just talk?" He let out a shaky, breathy laugh.

Everything would be okay the longer he pretended like there was nothing to make him feel like it wasn't.

"Well, I guess so, but-" He could hear her sigh in confusion, "I'm not going to edit any videos. No sending cash, either. You have enough."

Parker took a deep breath in. He knew Burns couldn't see him, but he smiled, trying to convince himself of the happy facade. "Do you really think that low of me?"

"Sorry," She seemed to have bought it, "Just not used to you calling all that much. Especially at this time."

"It's only nine."

"Yeah, well, I assumed you'd be doing anything but calling people on the phone." He heard her scoff - she'd thought of something, but became hesitant to say it, "Like cuddling with Chester."

She was joking, but his heart skipped a beat.

"Dick." He shook his head, too; masked everything like he was filming a video.

"So what's up?"

"Nothing."

She sighed quickly and resumed, "Why are you... calling me? You've got other friends." She seemed to be doing something on the other end. He heard pots and pans clashing against each other lightly.

"Is it that hard to believe I called just to chat with you?"

"Uh..." He heard another clang, "A little, yeah."

Parker became curious. "What're you doing?"

"Cooking."

"At this hour?" He grinned, imitating her words from before.

Burns calmed him down. She kept him grounded. They understood each other, but they weren't opposites like him and Chester.

"You literally called me just then. No different." Another clang.

For a moment, he thought about telling her what happened.

"Disappointing, Burns." He made a 'tisk' noise with his mouth, audible enough for Burns to hear on the other end. He thought about telling her again.

Parker decided against it out of fear.

"Hanging up."

"No, wait, don't-" He let out another breathy laugh, "I'm sorry. What's for dinner?"

There was a pause. "Spaghetti Bolognese."

"Yum." He raised himself from the couch, peeking over to stare at his fridge. "Now I'm hungry."

"Did you not make dinner?"

"Uh," He stood up, "No. Forgot to." His feet propelled him to the fridge and he opened it. The sound of rattling drinks filled his ears.

"At least you had some food today..." She normally let him make his down decisions; she wasn't overbearing, but she definitely cared.

He'd expected her to yell at him... but Burns would never really be angry at him.

She acted in one of his videos, once. It was the first time they'd properly had a chance to become friends. After the post, she took on a higher position in their jobs. He preferred that. She was good.

"What about Chester?"

He paused, "Huh?"

"Has he had dinner?"

Every time he'd forget about Chester, he'd be reminded of him. Unintentionally, obviously, but it still made him stop in his tracks.

"He's... not home." 

"Still?"

"Yeah, I dunno." He decided to grab something light and closed the fridge. "I haven't seen him since last night."

"Well, you spoke to him, right?"

Another pause. He almost spilled.

"Parker. Dude..."

"I'll call him. I will." His fingers tensed around the snack he held, "I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry to me," She seemed more concerned than he did. "Did anything happen? He wasn't replying to me, or anyone, really."

"He kinda just left this morning before I woke up. I texted him about it and he said not to worry." It was a lie, but he preferred that Burns didn't get worked up over his disappearance. Maybe he was selfish for not wanting her to be involved.

In the silence between their conversation, he thought to himself again. Chester's not like that just because he wants to be.

There's no way he doesn't remember.

"I still think you should call him." He heard sizzling on the other line, "Yeah, actually, definitely call him. Right now."

"I'm not sure if he's awake," Parker tried to keep his composure.

"He's definitely awake. He's got your sleep schedule."

He furrowed his eyebrows in desperation.

"Ha-ha." He tried to sound like he was still smiling. He didn't want a reason to call him.

"I'm serious." Burns continued.

"Well, I'm calling you right now, so..."

He wasn't ready.

"If that's the case, then okay. Call him, please, byeeeee-"

Her voice cut off. She hung up.

For a moment, Parker's finger hovered over the 'call' button again. Everything would be okay if he just called back and made a shitty excuse.

But for some reason, he clicked out of her contact, and moved to Chester's.

Everything would be okay if he ignored what he had to do, but he didn't want to ignore it anymore.

He wasn't ready, but time didn't wait for people to be ready. It kept passing.

If he spent all this time loathing himself instead of doing what he needed to, time would leave him behind. He'd be the bad guy he thought himself to be.

He wasn't the best person, but he could be good. He would be good.

Parker pressed the 'Call' button and waited.

He could feel his entire figure shift. A warning signal flashed like strobe lights within him.

There was a lingering thought at the back of his mind; nagging at him, and spreading like roots. The reason for his agitation he pushed to the dumps because it seemed way too unlikely.

He couldn't even bring himself to say it out loud, so he didn't. He kept it back there, in his mind, while he waited. Shoved it into his field of doubts and pretended it was the same.

Calling his best friend was the declaration that brought danger into everything he'd ever done, and this time, he was scared of the flame.

"Hi, this is Chester."

His heart raced. He didn't say anything.

"I'm not there right now, so leave me a message if it's important. Thanks."

Voicemail.

Rising tensions descended like rain. He sighed into the beep, and inhaled into the silence.

"Hey, bro." He began, "You haven't been home all day, so... just give me a call and let me know if you're okay."

He felt so stupid saying that. He was never good with words; partly because he barely used them, especially to explain how he felt. Everything was easier with just a look.

"Hit me up when you can."

He fought the urge to bring up last night.

"Okay. Bye." He moved his hand to press the red button blaring in his face, but he paused. He opened his mouth to say something more... and stopped himself.

Instead, he ended the call.

He brought another hand to his hair, spreading his fingers into it. Everything inside him screamed 'Yeesh'. He understood now why it was always easier to speak with gifts; he was great at sarcasm, but terrible at seriousness.

He stood there, by his counter, for what seemed like minutes. He heard the familiar sound of cars rushing by. The lights of the outside shone in through his blinds.

Parker wanted more than anything than to shut his mind up - to stop himself from contradicting every little thing he deemed good - so he waited in silence. He let the buzz of not thinking consume him. Every light was off. Even his phone screen, now, was-

9:57 PM. A message. His screen lit up, and Chester's name shone in bold.

'Can't call rn'

The silence was impossible, but he couldn't bring himself to move. The screen went black again as the phone turned off. Chester couldn't call, but he was there.

He had been there the entire time and only now had Parker taken any god damn initiative.

Another message lit up the phone screen again.

'Staying the night at my Mom's,'

Parker waited again. For some reason, his heart raced.

'Sorry'

He could leave it. He could forget they spoke, and wait till the morning. Try again later, but not really, because he'd be scared.

Parker opened the app and typed back quickly.

'Can you text?'

His mind was screaming 'Idiot', but he didn't care.

'Sure'

Chester was dry in text. That further cemented their almost inability to communicate seriously.

There was a barrier between them they refused to acknowledge; sure, they were two peas in a pod, but the pod was all they thought about. Everything had to be laughs, and happiness, and positivity - when it wasn't, they never knew what to say. Their differences clashed so infrequently that it made it hard for them not to fight. Disagreements was one thing, but conflict was another.

Parker ignored his shaky hands. '

How come you didn't show up today?'

The question burning on his mind received an answer quicker than he'd anticipated:

'I've been at my Mom's since this morning.'

Parker's eyebrows furrowed.

Despite the words and phrases and sentences skimming through his brain, he typed out something logical.

'Didn't you agree to coming to film today on the email though?'

He didn't want to think about the realisation looming at the back of his mind. The thought that maybe Chester hadn't showed up because of him - the excuses he'd made were fake, and Parker had ruined everything. He wanted to believe everything was still okay.

'I don't even remember'

That made him even more confused.

'What do you mean?'

Chester responded quickly, and Parker's figure shifted from the counter to the sofa again.

'I kinda have a hangover. I don't really remember everything from last night.'

Parker sighed with annoyance.

'But Burns spammed you lol.'

'Oh I've had my phone on do not disturb only ur messages come through'

Parker felt a tiny burst of warmth within him. Chester's phone settings only allowed Parker's messages to come through when his phone was on silent.

Everything would be easier if they could just talk to each other. Everything would be easier if Chester was just there, in front of him, so they didn't have to send half-assed messages and act like the night before was something forgettable.

Unless it was something forgettable, and Parker just couldn't let it go.

He wanted to ask Chester everything he was thinking, but he couldn't bring himself to write it down.

Parker thought about how he felt when he woke up that morning. He'd been so distraught - so scared - and afraid of what Chester might think of him. He hadn't even stopped to think about how Chester might have felt, too.

They were opposites, but they shared the same love language... maybe Chester was making excuses because he was just as scared as Parker.

If it truly didn't matter, then Parker wouldn't make a big deal out of it. If Chester didn't, he didn't have to. He didn't have to atone.

No work had to be done if he just pretended like everything was okay.

'That's alright then. How's your Mom?'

That's right. Everything is okay.

Parker set his phone down for a moment to eat. The kitchen was still dark, but his eyes had grown much more used to that sort of lighting. It was easy to see now that he'd adjusted to the night.

Everything's okay.

'She's fine. The reason I'm here is because of my Grandma actually,' The phone lit up again as Chester continued, 'She's been getting sicker than usual and my Mom needed me here just in case y'know?'

Everything's okay.

Parker wrote back, 'That's not good. Sorry about that.'

The reason he wasn't responding was because of something personal. Not everything needed to be shared with him. Everything was, and is, okay.

'It's Ok, my Grandma ended up being alright tho. I'll be back tomorrow so we can try filming again'

For some reason, Parker nodded - like someone would be there to see him agree. He was used to someone being there.

'Awesome. I'll tell Burns and we can meet up at set if you want. I'm glad your Grandma's okay now.'

Chester responded quickly.

'Ok cool. I'll see you tmo then?'

Parker gulped.

 'Yea'

See you tomorrow.

...