I saw Jem in pictures. Photoshoots with dark backgrounds, colourful lights, sweat dripping from his hair. A pure look of joy spread throughout his face in that one. 

He said he played at a few bars. Now he's preparing for a concert. He's come so far and felt the need to hide everything from me because of some dumb rules we made at 14.

"So all these nights you've been up late at absurd hours texting me, it was because of music?" I ask into my phone, watching Jem as he fidgets at his desk. 

We've been talking for nearly 2 hours and have steered far off track so many times now.

"Maybe." He responds, a sheepish smile adorning his lips. 

"You texted me a lot about being stressed. That was why too," I pause in thought. It was my idea to keep secrets from each other. He vented to me so often yet couldn't get it all out, I couldn't help him. "I'm sorry." 

"What, why are you sorry?" He sits up, face transforming from shy to concerned.

"You had to keep all these secrets because of me."

"No, I could've asked to share more. But I didn't. Also shut up saying sorry, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry for getting you doxed." His eyes are wide, concerned. He's messing with the sleeve of his jumper, pulling it over his fingers and twisting it. 

Is he really a rising star? He seems incredibly anxious just to have a conversation with me: one of his closest friends.

"I told you it's okay, I'm not that worried about it." That might be a lie, but if it calms Jem down then it's alright.

I don't care about online strangers trying to find things through links. There's nothing I really do online. The scariest idea, though, is people around me seeing it. My classmates putting the name to me, whispering when I walk by, distancing themselves more than they already have.

And what if they give away where I live now? What if they take pictures of me to share online? I don't think I could handle that. 

Connor showed me the article when I got back from my morning class. I read it and silently shut myself in my room. It didn't take me long to see the previous article and the theories, the made up stories. 

Without meaning to, I found Jem's account. Pictures of his musical adventures filled his feed, text posts addressing his fans and talking about new music coming up.

Some were the most random sentences, whatever weird things crossed his mind. I found myself smiling at those. Those ones were so completely Jem.

A new post popped up, a video captioned with an orange heart. I played it, listened to his voice. Seeing him for the first time and hearing the sweet, soft melody from his throat sent goosebumps rippling down my arms.

Then I felt bad for snooping around without him knowing.

"Hey, what with that song you posted recently?" I ask, pushing the hood from my head. 

"What s- Oh. Oh no, why did you see that!" He cringes. 

I can't help the smile forming, "It was good, makes me excited for your album. What's the theme, oxymorons?"

"I didn't want to post that. My company thinks it's a good idea to make vague lovey posts so my fans can connect the dots to your contact. I think it's a dumb idea but apparently it'll help." He struggles to look at me as he talks, the soft silver of his eyes dimming as he fixes his gaze on the table below. 

But that's okay, this is an incredibly weird situation. 

"I get it. Though you look sad in the video."

"You don't think I look focused and in love?" He settles a bit, making a serious and questionable 'alluring' expression. 

"Pfft, no."

He laughs. "Yeah I was kinda having a crisis about you being doxed!" He glares at me, trying to make me feel threatened. But the happiness he clearly feels ruins any aggression he tried to mask himself with. It leaves him looking like an annoyed puppy.

"I told you, I don't-" 

"Okay, what about your family?" He cuts me off, the puppy fades away as an unsettling seriousness overcomes him.

I stay quiet, wishing we weren't on a video call anymore. I'm not concerned about my family, they can handle themselves. 

I let out a breath of courage before responding. "I um.. Don't want to talk about them right now." Jem softens, taken aback just a little. Once again, I feel bad. "Sorry, this is just one secret I don't want to share yet."

He pauses, thinking for a moment. Similar things have happened through text, he'd take a while longer to respond and sometimes click the message bar just so I knew he was still there.

But it's strange seeing him go through this. Seeing how his neat eyebrows bend slightly in thought, the dimples in his cheeks appear ever so faintly on either end of his pursed lips. A few strands of his dark brown – or red – hair swirl over his forehead, tickling the tired skin beneath his eye.

"It's okay, take your time. I don't want to stress you out anymore than this whole thing has." He finally says. Guilt attacks him still, despite my reassurances. I feel both bad and happy about it. He cares for me. Too much. 

"Thank you."

~~~

The sun drops low on the horizon, it’s barely even 4PM. A dull orange glow is cast on the flat clouds, reflecting off windows and outlining trees. I shut my laptop, finishing my research for the day and shuffling to the kitchen to get fuel.

Our apartment is small, only 4 of us taking shelter from the long Uni days here. Connor is in the kitchen, the only one of the 3 I’ve really gotten to know. He’s chatty and curious and seemed really excited when he first met me.

“Hey Izzy,” I cringe at the nickname and he notices right away, “I’m not gonna stop calling you that until you beg me to.” He grins, his nose tightening around his septum ring.

“I’ll lock you out one day. One day when the girls aren’t in.” I threaten while I open the fridge, scanning each shelf for some food of mine. It’s easy to forget who's who's when only Anna labels her things.

“I got better at remembering my keys, actually.”

“So it has nothing to do with the chain you started wearing?” I gesture to his waist where a curved chain leads out of his pocket and up to a belt loop on his side.

He looks down to it before pulling his jacket to hide it. “No! That’s for fashion!” I smile at his flustered expression. He mutters a few things but I ignore it and heat up some leftovers.

“How are you doing? You know, with everything happening.” He asks after calming down.

I turn to look at him, his tall figure slumped sideways, resting his weight on the counter. We’ve only known each other for 2 months now but I’m glad to have him. He looks out for me. “Still kinda. Terrified.” I admit.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

I hum and nod, “Yeah. Had a video call last night. That was weird, and he knows what I look like now.”

Connor smiles, wide, and that doesn’t surprise me. He’s been a fan of Jem since I met him, though only recently am I registering the songs he’s been playing. “Can I join you next time?” His eyes grow round, a puppy expression rushing over his golden features.

“No.”

“Yes! C’mon!” He continues to plead. 

“You just wanna tell him he’s hot and that you sleep with his poster watching you.”

“No! He doesn’t have official posters, so I wouldn’t tell him that in case that counts as image theft or whatever. Besides, he isn’t my favourite singer.”

“I know. I hate your room.” I shudder at the idea sleeping with so many posters of people watching over me. He has at least 5.

“My room has personality. Unlike someones-” His insult gets cut off by short beeping.

Thank the heavens for microwaves, I am starving. I grab a fork and retreat to the cosy living room, switching the TV on where it stands on a low cabinet propped up higher with a collection of textbooks none of us can bear to look through – plus the one or two someone bought before they could realise they don't need it. Pretty sure there's a thesaurus in there.

I hear the front door open and click shut, followed by the shuffling of someone unzipping their boots. “Anna help me, Connor won’t leave me alone.” I call out and go back to eating.

Connor throws his hands up, exasperated. “Wow, one request and suddenly you’re a villain!”

“No, you’re dramatic.”

“Guys!” Anna cuts in, her sweet tone taking the form of an irritated mother, “Both of you shut up. I am not cleaning up the battlefield of another nerf war.” She joins us in the living room, sliding into the chair by the corner.

“But they’re the best way to settle an argument.” Connor states, leaning his back to me and dropping his head to my shoulder lazily.

“I’m not cleaning.” Anna warns, all while I quietly finish my food.

I listen to them bicker until they end up on a very different topic, seemingly without realising it. I take in their voices, not paying much attention to their words, and let myself relax for a while. It’s nice having people around me. Sometimes chaotic and noisy, but I still enjoy it.

After more hours of sitting in the lounge together, we find ourselves quietly absorbed in a movie, like some toddlers experiencing the world for the first time.

Connor sits up in the dark room, his messy hair illuminated by quick flashes from the TV. He leans closer to me and keeps his voice to a hushed whisper, "If anything more happens you know you can talk to me, right?" He asks with a sincere expression. 

I nod and whisper back, "same goes for you."

He blinks, somehow taken aback. Then a smile cracks his lips, tilting the corners up. "Hell yeah, ranting buddies." He falls back against me. 

Not only is my best friend a freaking rockstar or something, I now have a ranting buddy. I never thought my life would take this turn. It's scary, I don't know what to do, but I think that's okay. As long as Jem doesn't ditch me. As long as I have him to help me through it.