20

Winston goes to bed with his phone in hand, sitting on the bed as he scrolls through his message history with Jason. It's dark; the blinds are open but not pulled up and the lights from the city casts striped shadows onto him. Winston's in an oversized shirt that nearly falls over his shoulder, and he pulls it up with an annoyed twitch of his lips. Flexing the muscles in his legs as he minutely adjust his crossed legs, he hunches over his phone with the light blaring his face into view.

His stomach flutters as a new message from Jason arrives, a continuing of the conversation they had prior to Winston brushing his teeth in preparation for bedtime. Winston smiles, unable to stop it and not wanting to anyway, and he sends a reply "but i bet you loved it anyway"

Jason sends one of those laughing emojis that are also crying, and Winston's smile grows, a puff of laughter leaving his lips. A new message from Jason arrives almost seconds after, "i love it but it can it get so frustrating when the newbies blow off training in favor of parties and bashes and whatnot. they're wasting so much time..."

"you don't go to college parties?" Winston asks with a questioning emoji.

"nope" another emoji that's laughing and crying at the same time accompanies the message, and a new one comes right after, "i like partying with my friends but not those big college parties that everyone can go to. it's a little too many people for me, and all the conversations and the loud music gives me a headache."

"speaking of headaches, don't you get them when you're playing games? even if training's not loud, during the proper games it must be," Winston points out, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth and pressing down lightly.

"i have no idea, i don't hear a thing from off court when i'm playing games," Jason replies, one more laughing emoji that's also crying with it. This time it's at least correctly used. Winston still laughs at it, though. Amusement makes his eyes glitter almost as much as the billboard across the street, and he lets his lip go in favor of typing a reply with full concentration.

"when you play, are you aware of the audience at all?" Winston asks, a yawn slipping past his carefully crafted defenses.

They've been talking for a while already, even just tonight. Winston doesn't entirely understand where the constant communication is coming from; he's not known for making friends easily. He doesn't even know the people who's got lockers next to his, or know the names of those he's sitting next to in his classes. Making friends has always kind of been a mysterious thing to him; how does one even start a conversation with a stranger? How many conversations does it take to go from stranger to acquaintance and from acquaintance to friend?

How many conversations does it take to go from dating to boyfriends?

Winston doesn't intrinsically understand this, as he suspects the rest of the world does. And he tries not to think about it too much, because it's not like that will change the outcome. The understanding won't magically beam itself into his head if he just angst about it enough.

His phone buzzes and Winston smiles, ignoring his drooping eyelids. He falls back though, landing on the thin pillow and turning on his side, holding the phone up to his face with both hands. Reads the message; "not really," Jason responds, sending a emoji scratching (or possibly patting, it's hard to tell) it's yellow head. It's quickly followed by another message, reading, "i zone out a lot when i'm playing and only really maintain awareness of the court. coach stewart thinks i'm a genius and an anime protagonist."

Winston blinks. "your coach watches anime?"

"apparently he's been following Two Peace (?) sends it started airing???" Jason seems just as confused. Winston lets out a startled laugh, the sound bouncing off the wall and echoing throughout the tiny apartment. He presses a hand to his mouth soon enough, waiting for silence to descend once more. Stays still, as if there is somebody else here.

There is not, of course. There is only ever him, here.

But Winston's mind doesn't always recognize that.

Drawing his legs up higher, answering with a "two peace is legendary, i see why he'd watch it. have you seen it?"

"nope,"

"wanna do a marathon sometime?" Winston bites his lip as soon as he's hit send, the butterflies in his stomach utterly uncontrollable. His cheeks are flushed despite the late hour, and with every message from Jason his stomach clenches, his heart thudding and honestly it's—kind of ridiculous. This excitement of a simple text message; he hasn't felt like this since... well, not since Gary. And even that didn't involve so many butterflies in his stomach.

Jason's reply is an emoji with heart-eyes and text that reads; "oh i would love that. then i can dazzle coach stewart with my knowledge! did you know he took a whole week off to go to some kind of convention? he showed the team his costume and he looked really cool, i was kind of jealous. do you think i'd look cool with a long purple hair??"

Winston instantly images Jason with long purple. His heart goes dokidoki, and he shivers. "you'd look amazing," he replies, yawning. For night is an eternal enemy, a threat to all people awake, and even he—amazing as he is—is not immune.

Another yawn, and he sends a sad, "i've got to go to sleep" to Jason, accompanied by two crying emojis. Jason sends crying emojis in return, and then of course Winston has to send even more and then Jason sends some more and in the end there are about 11 straight messages that are just crying emojis. Winston doesn't entirely know how they got there, but he feels—like his chest is full of air. Like his heart is made of air.

Light.

He feels light.

...It's kind of weird.

With no new messages forthcoming, Winston puts the phone away on the coffee-table, moved around to make room for the couch's pullout bed, and settles back down with his head on the pillow. Stares up at the ceiling and watches the light from the window above moving over him. He shuts his eyes are a moment.

Silence surrounds him. And eventually, he sleeps.

[move below section to next chapter???]

It's routine, the next morning. Time moves both at a crawl and so quickly he doesn't even have time to think; Winston's toast is too toasted, the coffee is bland, and the ceiling light is flickering again but he can't make himself change the lamp.

The mornings are getting colder, too, frost covering the grass more days then not now. Winston watches it on the way to the bus, his hands in his pocket and his thoughts a million miles away. And it's as he's waiting for the bus that Winston's phone buzzes.

Pulling it out of his bag—the strap finally fixed thanks to Gary's mom—he smiles for the first time that day as he sees Gary gushing about the latest episode of a crime drama. Winston boards the bus with his head in his phone, typing a reply with both hands and using momentum to swing himself onto his seat without touching anything. The fresh air of the bus air-conditioner hits him right in the face as the bus rolls off.

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A/N: there are so many chapters to copy-paste. why did i do this to myself?

...i've gotta start writing longer chapters, hmph.