Damien knocked nightly, and he always came with a question on his lips. Can we get coffee? Can we get ice cream? Can we listen to my record? Can we hang out? Can we go to the park? Can we had become a phrase that sent Aiden’s heart racing. 

Aiden’s simple, boring life became exponentially more chaotic the second he’d return home from class or work. The new neighbor had stolen Mrs. K’s heart and impressed Mr. K enough that he was asked to regularly assist with shipments, and Damien had been beaming with pride when he’d gotten an envelope full of small bills for his work. They’d celebrated on Tuesday night with pizza and watched some anime while Aiden sat and sketched out some rough concepts for the character for his school project.

Every evening after that pizza night, Damien ended up in his apartment, sitting on his floor, watching his TV, and Aiden didn’t mind.

On Saturday evening, Damien knocked again. It had seemingly become a habit because Aiden was literally still in the hall trying to find his keycard and there had been no reason for him to knock. They were standing next to each other. Damien smiled the entire time. 

“Just being polite!” he said. It was stupidly endearing.

Aiden nervously unlocked his door.

“Guess what?” Damien asked as they both walked inside.

“What?” Aiden asked as he slid his backpack off. He walked to the kitchenette to get a drink.

“I started reading your comic.”

Aiden about died right there by the fridge. What a horrible place to breathe his last.

“O-oh, did you?”

“Yes, its really good! I like your pen name, too. The art is different from that character you were working on a few nights ago.”

“That’s because they’re by two different people.”

Damien blinked a few times, obviously confused.

“Ramen?” Aiden asked with a nervous chuckle.

“What do you mean, two different people?” Damien inquired. “And yes, obviously.”

“The me that does comics is a completely different person than the me that does animation. Nobody… well, you are the only person who knows I’m CyberCascade. Not even Margo knows that’s what I do for work,” Aiden explained.

“Why?”

“It’s… awkward. It’s embarrassing and it’s… my thing. I didn’t want my friends to be weird about it, or make a big deal of it. It’s why I have a pen name and I use my character as my profile pic. I’m not really ready for people to know, so promise me you won’t mention it to anyone, please?”

“Sure. I think it’s cool and a big deal. I mean that, but I promise I won’t say anything. Not like I know anyone around here other than you on a level I’d really share something like that with, anyway. But even if I did you can rest assured I’ll stay quiet.” Damien smiled.

Aiden nodded and whispered his thanks as he started preparing the ramen. He hadn’t really thought about the why before—it had always been something he wanted to keep a secret—but it felt nice to have someone know. Perhaps it was because Damien was new, and he knew right off the bat that the whole comic thing was a major part of his life, so it didn’t really impact something that had existed for a while. He’d worked hard to get the three friends he had, and even though they were all artists with dreams, he didn’t feel like his dream matched theirs. He didn’t want to be labeled weirder than he already was, or have them thinking that he was an overachiever. Or risk having people start asking him for commissions. Or accuse him of generating the art instead of doing it himself since he was quick and the styles didn’t match. He was simply a dedicated worker with auDHD that could zone out and work tirelessly for hours without needing to meet a social quota. He kept a tight schedule for a reason and had carefully crafted styles that worked for each of his needs. It was easier to keep it separate than try to explain it, or try and—

“Hey,” Damien said quietly.

Lost in his thoughts, Aiden flinched. “Y-yeah?”

“I won’t read anymore if you don’t want me to.”

“N-no, no! I actually want you to, I do. I want to talk to someone about it but it’s weird. I guess I just don’t want to feel uncomfortable over it. Like… my comic taking off is not normal. It’s hard to make it in this industry, and the fact that I’m making a living off of it is… I feel bad, I guess. I figured I’d always be a starving artist, not paying my rent with a silly space adventure.”

“So you feel bad because you’re successful?”

“I guess.”

Damien leaned on the counter and looked at him. “I don’t get it, but I guess I don’t have to. I do really like your story. I lied when I said I wouldn’t read anymore because I already finished what you had available and I desperately need to know what comes next, but it’s the thought that counts!”

Aiden let out a small laugh. He filled his pot with water, feeling like going old school tonight instead of letting the comforts of a styrofoam cup take over. He turned on his countertop induction range—something he most definitely wasn’t supposed to have but hid quite well—and set the pot on top so it could warm.

“Who… who is your favorite character?” Aiden asked.

“Is it silly to say Damianos?” Damien asked.

“No, everyone says that.” Aiden laughed. “He’s mine too. Might be kind of obvious with how much effort I put into drawing him.”

“So obvious, but for a good reason. He’s badass and sympathetic, and he really does have so many abs. I’m not sure it’s safe to be that unclothed in deep space but I don’t mind it,” Damien said with a chuckle.

Aiden’s heart skipped. Was that him admitting he was queer? Was he into men? Did he have a chance—

“Makes you wonder if people—uh, characters like that can actually be more than their tropes. Be more than the things we first perceive them as, more than what their born into,” Damien said, tone shifting to something softer.

Aiden shot him a curious look but didn’t quite know what to say in response. So, he did what he did best and changed the subject.

“Uh, if you want, that binder with the flowers on it—over on that shelf—has some of my concept sketches and early draft notes for the comic,” Aiden said gently.

Damien lit up like he was looking at a celebrity. “Really? Can I look?”

“I mean, that’s why I’m offering.”

Damien ran over to the bookshelf with an excited ‘woohoo’ leaving his lips. Aiden smiled and went back to prepping their dinner. He was kind of excited for the new experience of sharing his passion project with someone face-to-face instead of hiding behind a screen. Talking with someone about it in person sounded fun.

When his new neighbor returned with the binder and a million questions on his lips, Aiden couldn’t help but feel some pride swell in his chest over his work. He started answering everything Damien wanted to know as he popped open the fridge to grab some leftover chicken to warm up with their meal. Eventually, the binder was set on the countertop as Aiden explained who the scrapped characters were, the locations that he’d never gotten around to using, the progression of his heroine and her design. The more he talked, the closer Damien seemed to get. When Damien set his chin on Aiden’s shoulder, the artist’s breath caught in his throat.

It’s just because the kitchen is cramped, that’s all, Aiden told himself—completely ignoring the fact that it was an open floor plan apartment and it was, in fact, not cramped at all.

“Your character art has really grown a lot,” Damien noted.

“You think?” Aiden asked.

“Yeah, they’re more expressive. Not that they weren’t before, but they feel lifelike and… I don’t know, easier to connect to. It’s probably all of your animation experience.”

“I hadn’t considered that.”

“Thanks for letting me into this part of your world, Aiden. It’s neat to see the creative process, and it’s been fun to watch you work this past week even if I know you’re falling behind cause I’m in your space non-stop. I’m really excited to see what you do next,” Damien said as he finally lifted his head from Aiden’s shoulder. “I like the pink haired guy you teased in the new episode, by the way. He’s a good looking dude.”

Heat flooded Aiden’s cheeks as Damien started to chuckle, excusing himself to their usual spot on the floor so he could find something for them to watch. It should have bothered Aiden that Damien had basically taken over his free time, that he’d welcomed himself to the TV remote and his ginger ale cans, his time and attention. But it didn’t. Aiden liked it, and he worried he’d become addicted to the slight chaos that swept in whenever Damien stood in his doorway. It was the most exciting thing he’d experienced in a long while. Maybe the last time was the first rent he’d paid entirely with his comic income. Or when readers had started to really connect with his story and made it all feel worthwhile. That had been a long time ago.

“Hey,” Aiden said quietly as he tossed the noodles into the water.

“Yeah?” Damien asked.

“D’you want to see a movie tomorrow?”

“Yes! I would!”

Yeah. Suddenly his life had become pretty exciting, and he liked it.