20. Savion

TWENTY

SAVION

Sitting in the break room, I absently turn the pages of my book on the Cretaceous Period. My thoughts keep going back to Declan. It's been days since we decided to be together, and each one is better than the day before. Dash is like a dream. He's kind, attentive, protective… and ridiculously sexy. I'm glad he's cool with taking things slowly, because as much as I want to climb him like a tree—and as much as Kelly keeps telling me to do exactly that—after everything I've been through, I'm too scared to fully let go. If anyone knows how fragile my heart is, it's me.

But Declan looks at me like I'm something precious, something worth fighting for. I see it in the way he glares at anyone who stares too long at my scars. Sometimes I'm terrified he's going to confront someone, make a scene, but he holds back—probably knowing it would mortify me. Still, it's a nice feeling to know that, for once, there's someone besides my family and best friend who's got my back.

The murmurs around me start to grow louder, tugging me out of my thoughts. I glance up, noticing the way my co-workers are all glued to their phones, sneaking glances at me.

My stomach twists. "Do I have something on my face?" I ask, brushing my hand across my mouth, thinking maybe I've missed a spot from lunch.

Dina snickers, looking at me with a raised brow. "You haven't seen it, have you?"

"Seen what?" I frown, the unease creeping up my spine like an itch I can't scratch.

She lifts her phone and waves it at me. "You're all over the internet, Savion. Like, everywhere. You're famous!"

The world feels like it screeches to a halt. "What are you talking about?" My voice is tight, the words catching in my throat.

Dina flips her phone toward me. I stare at it in disbelief, and a familiar dread curls in the pit of my stomach. There, on her screen, is a photo of me and Declan. We're on one of our hikes, and he's standing beside me, his arm loosely slung over my shoulder as he leans in close. We're both laughing—unabashed, carefree—under the California sun, and the way we're looking at each other leaves no room for misinterpretation. It's clear we're together. His affection is all over his face, and mine probably is too.

But it's the scarred side of my face that's in full view.

"I—what the hell?" I whisper, feeling like the ground's been ripped from beneath my feet. Memories of the courthouse flood back, memories of my face plastered across TV stations and news articles, and all the judgmental looks that followed. I wanted to crawl into a hole then, and looking at this photo makes me feel the exact same way.

"Oh, honey, it's not so bad," Dina says, completely oblivious to the tidal wave crashing inside me. "I mean, at least it's a cute photo, right? You and Declan Mercer… who knew? I didn't even think you were, you know—" She trails off, waving her hand like she doesn't need to finish the sentence. "But hey, a rockstar boyfriend? That's gotta count for something."

I stiffen, my stomach lurching. "I didn't— I thought— I didn't see anyone with a camera," I manage to choke out.

"You're never really alone, Savion. Not when you're dating someone like Declan," one of the newer employees chimes in. I can't remember his name, but his face is pinched in that way people look when they're talking about something juicy. "I mean, you do realize what kind of guy he is, right? You should've expected this."

My heart sinks. "I'm not a celebrity," I say quietly, not even trying to hide the frustration in my voice. "Why would anyone care about me?"

Dina rolls her eyes. "You're dating Declan fucking Mercer. That means you're both public property now. Haven't you seen how they stalk celebrities around here?"

Another co-worker pipes up, grinning like this is some inside joke. "Yeah, man, I saw the picture this morning. Didn't even know you were gay."

"I didn't either," Dina adds, giggling like it's the most hilarious revelation. "But I guess rockstars can make people do crazy shit, huh?"

The room erupts in a ripple of laughter, but I don't feel the humor. All I feel is a suffocating weight settling on my chest. This isn't what I wanted. This isn't supposed to be happening.

I grab my phone, my hands shaking as I scroll through the news feed. The photo is everywhere—blogs, entertainment sites, even X. Every version of my face, my scars, Declan's gaze on mine—broadcasted for the world to see.

"Didn't think you were the type to land someone like Declan," a voice says from across the room. It's Todd, the guy who's worked here forever and somehow always says the wrong thing. "No offense, but you don't really look like the type that'd catch a guy like that."

"Jesus, Todd," Dina mutters, elbowing him. "Insensitive much?"

As if she wasn't insensitive a second ago.

I swallow hard, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. I want to scream, to yell at them to stop, but the words are lodged in my throat. My pulse pounds in my ears, and I can barely hear the noise around me anymore. I reach for my messenger bag, fumbling with the strap, desperate to get out of here, to escape this.

Just then, the door to the break room swings open, and my boss Emmett strides in. His gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the scene—Dina, Todd, and the others still clustered around, none of them moving. His eyes narrow as he looks at them, then flicks to me, and I can see the concern written all over his face.

He glances at his watch, then back at them. "Break ended ten minutes ago, people."

Dina opens her mouth as if to protest, but one sharp look from Emmett shuts her up. Slowly, reluctantly, they start gathering their things, grumbling under their breath. Todd gives me one last look, something smug and mean in his eyes, but Emmett steps closer, his presence solid, a protective shield between me and them.

As my coworkers file out, Emmett turns to me, his expression softening. "Take the time you need, Savion. Compose yourself. Don't rush back."

I swallow the lump in my throat and nod, grateful beyond words. "Thanks," I manage, my voice hoarse.

Emmett gives me a small, reassuring smile before stepping out, leaving me alone in the now blessedly quiet break room. I exhale a shaky breath, my heart still racing, but the knot in my chest loosens slightly.

Finally, I have a moment to breathe.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I see Declan's name flash across the screen. Relief floods through me, and without thinking, I press the answer button and slip out of the room, my heart racing. "Declan," I breathe, my voice shaking. "Everyone's seen the pho?—"

"I know," Declan says, his voice tight with anger. "I saw it too. Fucking vultures. Whoever sold that picture is dead to me."

"I didn't even see a camera," I murmur, my voice small.

"I'm so sorry, Savion." His tone softens, and I can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I know you didn't want this. I know how much you hate being the center of attention."

"I just… I didn't expect it to happen like this. People know who I am now. It feels like I'm being exposed all over again."

Declan's sigh crackles through the phone, heavy with guilt. "I'm sorry, so sorry, baby. I should've prepared you for this better. It's my fault."

"It's not your fault," I say quickly. "I… I don't want people at work to start treating me differently. Some of them already are." My throat tightens, thinking about the cruel comments from Todd.

"They can go to hell," Declan growls. "Look, Skye and Lennon invited us to dinner tonight. Skye's been through this. She knows what it's like to suddenly have your life plastered all over the tabloids. I think it might help if you talk to her."

I nod, even though he can't see me. "Yeah, maybe. I just… need to breathe for a second."

"I'll pick you up after work, okay? We'll get through this, Savvy. I promise." His voice is like a balm to my raw nerves, soothing the storm inside me.

"Okay," I say softly. "I'll see you then."

As soon as the call with Declan ends, I let out a shaky breath, my mind still spinning. My phone vibrates again, and this time it's Kelly. The second I see her name on the screen, a flood of relief washes over me.

I swipe to answer, my voice still unsteady. "Kells... hey."

"Hey, Sav." Her voice is soft. "I saw the photo. Are you okay?"

I close my eyes, leaning back in my chair as I try to find the words. "I don't know. I... I guess I should've expected something like this, but it still feels like I wasn't ready, you know?"

"Yeah, that sucks. I hate that for you," she says, her voice filled with sympathy. "It's unfair that you and Declan didn't get to decide this on your own terms."

I swallow hard, grateful for her understanding. "It feels like my entire life just got dumped out there for everyone to pick apart. I hadn't even decided if or when I would come out at work, and now... now the choice was taken away from me."

There's a beat of silence, and I can practically hear her thinking before she speaks again. "I get it, Sav. But you don't owe anyone an explanation, least of all your colleagues. This is your life. And if any of them give you a hard time about it, well... tell them to go fuck themselves."

Her bluntness cuts through the tension in my chest, and I laugh softly, the sound shaky but real. "Yeah, I'll not do that, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Kelly chuckles too, the sound like a balm to my frazzled nerves. "They don't get a say in who you are, okay? No one does."

"Thanks," I murmur, feeling a little lighter. "I mean, I knew this day would come, but I didn't think it'd happen like this. Declan's been amazing though."

"Of course he has," she says with certainty. "Declan's a good one."

The rest of the day drags as I hide in my office, head buried in research papers, but the second I'm done, which was an hour earlier than expected, I scurry home. It was only when Declan called me to let me know he was in the parking lot at work that I remembered he'd said he was going to pick me up and we were meeting up with Lennon and Skye.

After I take a shower, I pull on a pair of jeans, a white turtleneck, and my trusty white Converse. Casual but clean. Declan likes me this way—comfortable, me. But that photo… it keeps popping up in my mind. How do people see us? Declan, a star, and me? Do they think I've stumbled into this fairy tale, this life that's too good for someone like me?

Shaking the thought off, I glance at my phone—still no messages, no nasty comments—but I know better than to check social media.

The soft rumble of an engine outside pulls me from the thought spiral, and I rush out the door. Declan steps out of the car with that easy smile of his, and suddenly, everything feels lighter. When he reaches me, he wraps his strong arms around me.

"Are you okay?" His voice is gentle, but there's an edge of concern behind it.

I nod, the familiar scent of him grounding me. "Yeah… I'm fine, really." My voice isn't convincing, not to me anyway.

Declan presses a kiss to my temple, his lips warm against my skin. His fingers find mine, and the comfort of his touch makes my heart settle. "Let's get out of here."

Once in the car, I place my hand on his thigh, needing the contact, the reassurance. He covers it with his own, his thumb brushing my knuckles absentmindedly as he drives. Silence stretches between us, but it's the good kind, the kind that speaks of comfort and understanding.

The city lights blur past, and I let myself sink into the moment. But something nags at the back of my mind, a question I've never thought to ask. "Declan…" I start hesitantly.

"Yeah?" He glances at me, his blue eyes soft.

"Your bandmates… did they know about us before now? Before today?" I don't know why it's suddenly important, but it is. Have they known this whole time? Were they just waiting for me to catch up?

Declan's grip on my hand tightens slightly. "They knew. All of them." He doesn't hesitate, doesn't flinch. "None of them care that I'm bi, and only discovered that I was at the grand old age of forty-two when I met the sweetest person I know." A soft smile pulls at his lips. "Honestly, they figured out how I felt about you before I even knew it myself."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Really?" The idea that they've been watching me, us, this whole time makes my chest tighten, but not in a bad way. It's more… relief.

"Yeah," he says with a chuckle. "They've been giving me shit about it for a while. And now, they're just glad I've finally pulled my head out of my ass."

I laugh softly. "Kells figured it out before I did, too." Her sly comments and knowing looks come to mind. "She told me she saw it long before I did. Guess we're both slow."

"Smart woman," Declan says, his grin wide.

"I told my parents too," I admit, feeling a little sheepish. "After the initial shock, they were cool about it. My mom even promised to scour every bookstore for books on parenting queer kids. Said she and Dad want to make sure they know how to be the best parents for their son. I told her not to bother because I'm grown but she wanted to do it anyway."

Declan squeezes my hand. "They sound like good people."

"They are," I say quietly, a warmth spreading through me. The kind of warmth that comes from knowing that no matter what, I've got people in my corner.

We arrive at the restaurant where we're meeting Skye and Lennon, and I glance up, surprised by how upscale it looks. The building is sleek, with dark windows that reflect the city lights. A simple sign above the entrance gives the place an understated elegance. Potted plants line the walkway, and the doors are large and polished, giving off an air of exclusivity without being too flashy.

I shift nervously, feeling a little out of place, underdressed. Declan's hand at my back steadies me, his touch reassuring as he guides me inside.

"Why didn't you tell me we were in for fine dining?"

He grins, that easy, devil-may-care grin I've come to love. "You could wear a sackcloth and you'd still be perfect. Besides, look at me—jeans and a t-shirt, almost like you. And I bet Lennon and Skye are dressed the same."

Sure enough, when we walk in, Skye and Lennon are waving us over from one of the tables. They're dressed casually, just like Declan said. Relief floods me, and I relax into Declan's touch.

As we approach the table, Skye stands, pulling me into a warm hug. "Savion! Great to see you again."

"Good to see you too." I return her embrace, feeling a genuine connection. There's no pretense with Skye. "Thanks for inviting us."

"Anytime," she says with a grin. "I love Chicago, but I miss hanging out with the band. It's always a good time when we're all together."

As we settle in, the conversation flows easily. Declan's hand rests on my thigh under the table, a subtle reassurance that doesn't go unnoticed. Every time he gives me a quick squeeze, it's like he's telling me, I'm right here. And it helps. It's not only affection—it's the way he seems to know exactly when I need a little extra support. His confidence in our relationship radiates through every touch, every glance, and I find myself relaxing into the night.

Skye looks over at me as we're finishing our steaks. "So, we saw that picture of you and Dec," she says, her tone shifting to something more empathetic. "I remember the first time that happened to me and Lennon—it felt like such a violation. Did you feel that way too?"

I nod, the word violation resonating with me more than I expected. "Yeah, exactly. It's weird, having something so private turned into… that. It feels wrong."

Her face softens in understanding. "It does suck. But you just have to rise above it, y'know? You've got a hell of a man by your side"—she gestures toward Declan, who's pretending not to be flattered—"so lean on him when it gets tough. And for the love of God, don't Google yourself or look at X. Trust me, it's not worth it."

I laugh, but there's a seriousness in her words that I know I need to take to heart. "Noted. No Googling myself. Got it."

Lennon grins, tossing in, "Trust me, it's not pretty down that rabbit hole. People online get creative in all the wrong ways."

"I still get haunted by ‘trout face,'" Skye adds with a laugh, and I can't help but chuckle too. It's ridiculous, but it's also oddly comforting to know they've been through it too. The fame, the pressure—it's not just me.

Declan squeezes my hand again, and when I look at him, his eyes are soft, full of something that makes my heart skip. It's not a grand gesture or anything overtly romantic—just the way he looks at me like there's no one else in the room. I feel my pulse quicken, but this time it's not nerves. It's the quiet knowledge that this—what we have—it's real. No matter what the world thinks.

"Enough of the serious stuff," Declan says, calling for the waiter. "Let's celebrate."

Lennon raises an eyebrow. "Celebrate what, exactly?"

"My best friends are here, I've got the most amazing man by my side, and for the first time in a long time, life is good." He glances at me, eyes sparkling with that easy, confident affection that makes me feel like the luckiest guy in the world.