Pt. 2
Nico

Nico stepped outside into the cold afternoon air. The nausea hit immediately. He blinked against the light, stepping aside before someone knocked into him. His legs moved on autopilot, carrying him toward a quiet patch of sidewalk where he could breathe, sort of. His insides lurched, his palms wouldn’t dry, and for a second he genuinely considered hurling the signed book into traffic. What was he even expecting? A moment? A hug? A restraining order felt more likely.

He walked faster. Then faster still. As if he could outrun the weight in his chest. By the time he boarded the train, his legs ached. The ride home felt longer than it was. 

By the time he got home, Nico had already decided Jordan wasn’t going to call. 

The apartment was quiet, his mom’s shoes weren’t by the door and the kitchen light was off. He didn’t bother turning on any lights. Just kicked off his shoes, headed straight for his room, and dropped the book on his desk. 

He collapsed onto the bed, barely bothering to pull the covers back. His phone was still in his hand, gripped a little too tightly, screen dark and stubborn. He buried his face in the pillow, trying to suffocate the embarrassment out of his body. He really wasn’t expecting a call, but that didn’t stop him from checking the screen every few minutes, just in case.

The hours dragged by. Three, then four, maybe five. The sky outside had darkened from gray to navy, then slipped quietly into black. Nico hadn’t moved from the bed. Just lay there, staring at the ceiling, his phone resting on his chest like a stone. He’d stopped checking it after the first hour. 

Then, without warning, it buzzed to life. Nico jolted upright. He didn’t breathe as he looked at the screen.

Unknown number.

He answered a little too fast. “Hello?” he said, voice pitched higher than he meant it to be. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hello.” 

A faint crackle came through the line, like someone adjusting their grip on the phone.

“Hi.”

There was a beat where Nico wasn’t sure if that was it. Just hi? Was he supposed to carry the rest of the conversation now? 

He sat up straighter, hanging onto the phone like it might bolt from his hand.

“Hi,” he echoed. He opened his mouth to say something else, anything, but his brain blanked. He realized then that he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to talk to Jordan so much as he just wanted to hear his voice again. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “That was super creepy. I shouldn’t have shown up like that.”

A quiet moment passed on the other end. Nico could hear the faint clink of glass, like someone setting a bottle down on a hard surface. 

“A little creepy, yeah. But I’ve seen worse.”

“So... not gold medal creepy? Cool.” Nico let out a breathy laugh, one hand dragging down his face. It wasn’t quite relief, but it was enough to keep him from curling into the mattress like a worm at least. 

“I heard your performance on the radio.” Jordan said. “You’re better on piano than guitar. It suits you.”

Nico exhaled through his nose. “Thanks. That’s the nicest way anyone’s ever told me I suck at guitar.”

He tried to keep his voice light, but the words stuck with him. Jordan had listened. Not stumbled on it, listened. It shouldn’t have meant so much, but it did. Just knowing Jordan had been on the other end of the airwaves, even for a few minutes, sent a pulse through him he didn’t know what to do with.

Jordan laughed softly. “You know you don’t.” 

Nico grinned despite himself. “Yeah. I don’t actually.” 

He waited, but when nothing came from the other end, the need to explain clawed its way out. “I wasn’t trying to chase you or anything. I’m not… making this a thing. I just—” He let out a breath. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to understand what I did wrong, maybe?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Nico hesitated, already cringing at how this would sound. “After that night, you didn’t... You didn’t say anything. I figured if you wanted to see me again, you would’ve.”

“I told you,” Jordan said, “I like to keep things uncomplicated.”

“I’m not trying to be complicated.”

“I’m sure you’re not.” Jordan’s tone shifted, just enough to sound less like a dismissal and more like a test. “Then tell me, what is it you want?”  

Nico didn’t know how to answer that without sounding pathetic. “I don’t know. I guess I just… wanted to see you again. I’m not expecting anything. I just wanted to say hi. Kind of.”

“Just a hi?”

“Well—maybe not just a hi. But nothing big, either. Just…” He trailed off. “I just wanted to see you. That’s all.”

Jordan didn’t speak. Nico shifted on the bed, the phone pressed tight to his ear. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No. Just surprised.” 

Nico didn’t know what to say to that. ‘Surprised’ could mean a hundred things. None of them felt especially good. He shifted the phone to his other ear, about to make another attempt to explain himself. But Jordan’s voice cut in first. 

“Do you want to come over?”

Nico didn’t think he heard him right. “What?” 

“My driver can pick you up, if you want.” 

Nico went still, like the room had tilted and he needed a second to recalibrate. When his mouth moved, nothing useful followed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to say yes, it was that the yes got tangled somewhere between his ribs and throat.

“No?” Jordan asked. 

“Yes, ” Nico said too quickly. 

“Good, pack light. He'll be there in an hour.”

The line went dead. 

Nico stared at the screen. Then at the wall. Then back at the screen, as if it might change its mind and take it all back. 

He had no idea what to bring. No idea what to expect. 

But he was already up on his feet.