“You're not gonna throw up in my car right?" Mateo teased—trying to cover up his actual worry—as they got into his car. "Last time you were here you seemed pretty intent to.” 

“No promises," Emilio smirked, sliding into the passenger side, this all felt unsettlingly familiar to him. "Though, I could just buy you a new car if I did.” 

"Hey, no, Lucy's a whole nother story," Mateo said, as he started the car up. "She you can't replace."

"Lucy?" Emilio grinned, always happy when he talked with other people who also named their cars. "What makes Lucy so special?"

"She holds a lot of memories," Mateo said, patting the dashboard before pulling out of the parking lot.

"What's your favorite word?" Emilio asked as they drove to his place.

Mateo looked at him.

"You're a writer, you must have a favorite word," Emilio said.

"I'm a journalist." Mateo corrected.

"Journalists write," Emilio answered. 

"Yeah, but I don't tell people I'm a writer, I tell them I'm a journalist."

"Toe-may-toe tow-ma-tow,” Emilio said. 

Then he added, “do you tell people you're an artist? Cause you're really good at that too! I mean, from what I was able to see for the POINT 3 seconds before you snatched away your artbook." 

"Teach you some manners," Mateo mumbled loudly, smirking at Emilio. "And, no." 

"Why are you a journalist?"

"Why do you work in technology?" 

"No, I already answered that in your interview. Your turn."

Mateo nodded, taking a moment to think before answering. 

"I'm a journalist because I want to help people share their stories. I want to help bring more knowledge and wisdom and hope into the world. I wanna share and explore narratives that aren't always given the time of day they deserve. I want to make a difference in the world..." 

He glanced at Emilio, who was grinning and had a look in his eyes that Mateo could have easily lost himself in— had he not been driving. 

Mateo cleared his throat as he focused on the road again.

"Course, I'm not really doing much of that right now," he said. "So far I've mostly racked up a lot of reviews and listicles. I'm slowly moving up though, I’ve gotten to write some op-ed pieces and editorials. My interview with you is the biggest thing I've ever done.”

“Okay, well... here you are Emilio, Everhart Mansion,” Mateo said, pointing out the obvious since they'd pulled up to the driveway several minutes ago.

They had been deep in conversation when they’d arrived, and now Emilio wasn’t showing the slightest bit of acknowledgment to where they were.

“Are you kicking me out Mateo?” Emilio teased, raising his brows.

“No! It’s just- I…” Mateo stuttered, not knowing what to say, unsure of what the usual etiquette was when driving billionaires home to their mansions after a blackout drunk night at yours. 

“I’m just kidding,” Emilio laughed, unable to control himself. There was something exhilarating about the way he was able to make the tall guy next to him all flustered and red.

"Right," Mateo said.

“Hey," Emilio said, voice growing sincere and serious. “I really appreciate you not going to your paper with… everything. Not many people would do that, keep it to themselves. Especially with my home address. Even if I slept with them they’d probably— which I know we didn’t!” He added, seeing Mateo's cheeks go pink once again. 

“Just, really," he continued, "thank you, it means a lot to me. I’m sure that there were a lot of things that happened last night that would've been perfect for a front page story. So, I... I can't even begin to- Thanks, honestly.” Emilio said, feeling like his inadequate thank you was only just scratching the surface of how grateful he felt for all Mateo had done.

Mateo nodded, not sure what to say other than, "it's what any decent person would have done."

"I doubt that," Emilio said, voice sounding heavy, as if speaking from experience. 

Then, Mateo understood that Emilio was speaking from experience, his mind supplying him with all the leaked stories and photos that Emilio had faced since childhood, most sourced from "close acquaintances". 

None of those came close to what he’d learned last night.

“Hey-” Mateo said suddenly, grabbing Emilio by the arm as he opened the door to get out.

Emilio looked at him expectantly.

“Just for the record, you aren’t a bad spongebob.” Mateo said, finally working up the nerve to tell Emilio what he’d wanted to the night before. "You're trying really hard to be a good Spongebob and I think that’s really all that matters.” 

He just wanted to let Emilio know he wasn’t the selfish guy he thought he was. That he wasn’t responsible for the weight of the world, the weight of everything he’d been carrying.

That, of course, backfired.

Emilio just stared at Mateo like he’d suddenly grown a unicorn horn.

“What? Why are you comparing me to a cartoon character?” Emilio asked, settling back into his seat. “Are you-" a smile formed on his face as he teased Mateo. "You’re sleep deprived aren’t you? You’re going delirious. Should I call a driver to get you home?”

“N-no it’s- I- I meant- yesterday- I’m fine! Nevermind, it was stupid. Forget I said anything.” Mateo said, pulling his hand away from Emilio, refusing to meet his eyes.

“O-kay?" Emilio said after a beat of silence, trying to let Mateo further explain his comment.

Mateo said nothing.

"Well, okay, I’m gonna go now,” Emilio said, reaching for the door handle. 

Before stepping out of the car he turned back to Mateo.

“Can you call me when you get to your apartment?” He said, eyes fixed firmly on Mateo. “So that I know you made it home safe and weren't in like a car accident or anything, yeah?” 

Mateo nodded.

“Thanks,” Emilio said. He gave Mateo one last look before stepping out of the car and closing the door behind him. 

Mateo waved goodbye at him through the windshield, keeping a grin on his face. 

As soon as Emilio made it through the doors of his mansion, Mateo let his head fall onto his steering wheel.