IT WAS A rule universally acknowledged that Saturdays had been created for sleeping in. (A non-negotiable one, in fact.)

Wyatt's personal philosophy was that anyone who interrupted the fulfilment of this rule deserved whatever they had coming to them in a scorched earth meets Old Testament God kind of way, and naturally, he felt righteously pissed as the incessant ringing of his phone pulled him out of a much needed beauty sleep marathon around―a glance at the wall clock confirmed―ten in the morning.

He wasn't about to get in the way of tradition, and so he let the device carry on until it disconnected before burrowing even further into his duvet to carry on where he'd left off. He was on the verge of falling into a light doze when it started ringing again, and unable to stop himself this time, Wyatt swore, rejecting the call without taking even a peek at the caller ID.

To be safe he set his phone to Silent Mode, and just as he was beginning to marvel at the wonders of the 21st century the vibrating started. Immediately, his mood wilted.

"What do you want?" he snapped, and without missing a beat his sister burst into her best Mariah Carey imitation, belting out the chorus to Emotions directly into his ear, at full lung capacity.

She was good but, honestly, fuck that, Wyatt thought as he hung up with a wince, and almost immediately the phone started up its muffled buzzing again.

Was this how serial killers were made?

He posed the question to Viv as soon as he picked up the second time.

"Possibly," she answered, and Wyatt made a low noise of contemplation.

"Did you know that, statistically, women are much more likely to be killed by someone close to them?"

"I'm telling mom."

"That, what, I told you about a UN statistic?" Wyatt replied smoothly. "Please, be my guest."

The line went silent at this point, and for a short time neither of them tried to fill it.

"You know," Viv said finally. He could hear the sounds her sheets made as she shifted to a more comfortable position. "It's never a good one with you until you try to gaslight me."

Wyatt let out a hollow laugh, pretending as if the words hadn't hit far too close to home, making him want to recoil even though he knew it was just normal sibling banter.

In fact, They'd said worse to each other which was why he didn't hang up, and for the next minute they made small talk until, tired of beating around the bush, he asked her pointblank what it was that she wanted.

"Can't I just call because I want to hear your voice?" she said in a syrupy sweet tone, faking a gasp that made Wyatt shake his head.

"Yeah, no."

Still on the line he got up from his bed and out of his room, padding to the bathroom in the hallway, where he started to take a piss.

"Please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing."

"Cleaning out the magic wand?"

She sighed in defeat. "And you did not just call your penis a magic wand.".

"Wingardium leviosa," Wyatt replied, stifling a laugh at the sound of disgust his sister let out as he flushed.

"God, you're disgusting."

"You act like you've never seen a dick before."

"I haven't, now repeat after me," his sister intoned. "Between my sister and I, I am the sluttier sibling."

Wyatt acquiesced. "Like that was ever up for debate―St. Vivian, patron of the chastity belt."

"You're one to talk," Viv said, "St. Wyatt, patron of the bottoms."

"That sounds like a slur."

He padded back to his room, taking in how messy his living quarters were from the vantage point of his door: closet open, cloths strewn everywhere, etc. Wyatt groaned at the amount of work he would have to put into cleaning it.

On the bright side, the constant pit of dread in his stomach whenever he thought of AP. Lit had disappeared, now replaced with the anxiety of what his final grade would be.

"So I need to ask a favour―"

"Called it," Wyatt interrupted, bending down to retrieve the clothes that littered his floor. Viv exhaled.

"Anyway," she continued, "We'll need to FaceTime."

"You called to ask for permission to get me on FaceTime?" He was smiling. "Well, I knew I was the Beyoncé of the family but even this is a bit too much, don't you think."

"You idiot, I'll need to FaceTime you as part of the favour."

Wyatt sniffed, choosing to let the insult slide.

"I'm listening," he murmured.

His sister began. "So there is a boy―"

"I like where this is going."

"―who I met at band practice" Viv continued like he hadn't spoken at all. "He's the other violin player. I think I told you about him."

A memory immediately surfaced.

"The talented but creepy, intense senior?"

"Yes, him," she said, and Wyatt's eyes narrowed at how soft her voice had gone. "So my school has this voluntary mentorship program going on, and we got paired up. We've hung out a couple of times, but now he's asking if I want to hang out."

He felt a sudden surge of protectiveness. Or jealousy.

"Well, obviously he wants to steal your first chair spot." He snapped his fingers. "Doesn't band season start up in a couple of weeks?"

"You see, I thought so too," Viv murmured, "but he's one of those really stuck up snubs who never talks to anyone. I mean, he lived in Singapore up until high school. He probably thinks that everything is better there."

"Can you blame him, though? I mean, what the fuck is going on in America." Then Wyatt paused to think. "But don't they, like, arrest people for being gay over there though?"

"I think so. I'll look it up later. Anyway," Viv dragged this last part out. "He's kind of a loner and, like, crazy popular at my school."

"I mean, you said he lived abroad." Wyatt's tone dripped with unintentional condescension. "Probably the most exciting thing to ever happen at your school."

"I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at," his sister said, sounding wary, and he shook his head, told her to forget he'd said anything and asked if she would be heading over to the guy's place.

"God no. He could be a creep with blowup sex dolls at his house for all I know."

"True," Wyatt agreed. "So, how do I fit into any of this?"

His sibling went quiet for a bit, exhaling deeply before admitting that she'd asked the boy to come over.

"Damn girl." Wyatt whistled. "Take him out to dinner first, at least."

"Shut up," Viv growled and it sounded like she'd buried her face into a pillow. Moments like this always caught him off guard, because he realized his sister was younger than him and that could be unsettling.

"I mean," she continued once he'd finished teasing her to his hearts content. "He's really nice to me, kinda goofy too, and I think I might like him."

This last part was whispered, and Wyatt grinned as he asked her to come again, that he hadn't heard.

"But," Viv said, ignoring him. "I don't have a lot of experience with these kinds of things. So I'm going to need you for a bit of sibling reconnaissance. Do you have time?"

"To see who he is and how this plays out? Definitely."

He'd picked up all the clothes strewn on the floor, and now his eyes landed on the trash can beside his writing table, overflowing with bits of crumpled paper.

"What time do you have in mine?"

"How's one-ish for you?" his sister asked, and a glance at his wall clock had his eyes bulging.

"That's less than two hours away," Wyatt spluttered in outrage.

"Good, I'm glad we're agreed."

Viv disconnected as he geared himself up for a protest, and he was left with his phone in one hand and the trash can in another, mouth agape. The audacity.

Then again she'd learned from the best, he thought smiling ruefully, and with a disbelieving shake of his head Wyatt set to work.

For Wyatt, an hour and a half meant time to: watch an episode from his favorite true crime YouTube channel. Put his clothes up in the wash. Clean his room. Reply a couple of texts over Snapchat while he sat with his school books spread out in front of him, dusting off crumbs of toast from the pages as he chewed—all this while wearing an activated charcoal and honey facemask. Take a shower.

By the time he received a series of texts from Viv, informing him that 'the target was in position' and she would 'FaceTime in ten to fifteen minutes'―Wyatt had finished most of what he'd set out to do.

His hair was semi-wet, and drops of water flew everywhere as he ruthlessly attacked it with a towel when the others followed.

VIV: FIVE MINUTES ☺

He was struggling into a pair of jeans he suspected of being one size too small. Eventually, they proved no match for his determination, though his balls cramped uncomfortably agaist the zipper when he finally managed to wriggle into them.

At least they made his butt look cute.

VIV: READY?

WYATT: seeing you type in all caps spikes my anxiety ngl

Three dots appeared on Viv's side of their text thread briefly, but then suddenly they disappeared and in the next moment his phone started ringing.

Wyatt took a deep breath to steady himself before answering, and the first thing to pop up on his phone screen was his sister's face, anxious and unsmiling as she mouthed the words be cool.

Then she angled the camera to capture the person beside her, an Asian boy with long, black hair so sleek it looked like it must have been unreal. The rest of his features were also something along those lines: rosebud lips, high cheekbones and a patrician nose―delicate in their own right, but incongruously so on a boy's face.

The overall result lent an air of mystery, further compounded by a set of dark eyes that brought Canyon to mind, and Wyatt thought that his sister's potential new beau looked pretty, ethereal almost.

His heart squeezed.

The other boy also stared at him with his head cocked at an angle, like he'd stumbled on a puzzle that he couldn't quite get the full picture of. It was a look he was used to being on the receiving end of.

"So," Viv said obliviously, "Sebastian this is my brother, Wyatt. Wyatt, this is Sebastian from band who I told you about."

Very Walt Disney of his parents, Wyatt found himself thinking meanly as he fixed on his most brilliant smile, giving a little wave.

"Hello," Sebastian offered. "It's nice to meet you."

His voice was soft, almost tender, and he spoke with a New England boarding prep school accent that screamed money far more effectively than a neon sign could've.

Of course, it made sense that he was popular at school.

"Hi, yes, same here," he heard himself say breathlessly. Turning to Viv, he conceded: "Why am I just finding out that your archenemy is a Caravaggio painting?"

His sister groaned and Sebastian to his credit smiled graciously, though it would've looked more natural if it were a wince. The tips of his ears had turned bright red.

"Ignore him, he can't help himself," Viv apologized once she finished groaning. "My brother is a whore."

"If by whore"―he made air quotes―"she means that I simply appreciate the finer things of life." Wyatt raised a hand up in mock surrender.

"Then I am guilty as charged."

Sebastian laughed. It was a hearty sound that carried louder than his natural speaking voice―at odds with the aura of calm he had about himself. Wyatt could see where the goofiness Viv had mentioned earlier could come in, just as he could see the way the boy's shortsleeves wrapped snugly around his biceps.

"You're staring," Viv pointed out in a tond edged with steel.

"Appreciating the finer things of life," Wyatt corrected smoothly, though he felt a little embarrassed. "As you should be doing."

If his sister thought that she could catch him off-guard in front of a stranger, then she was in for the shock of her life. For his part, Sebastian cleared his throat loudly as two spots of bright color stained his cheeks.

God, he was adorable.

Their conversations turned to minutiae, which Wyatt always found a bit stifling, though that wasn't the case in this situation. Sebastian was interesting to talk to―cultured (quote unquote) was the word, but Wyatt got a sense that he was a little bit lonely too. It would explain why he'd so readily hung out with his mentee.

To an extent Wyatt could relate, but at least he had his sister, and Tobi and Martha to talk to―and lately even Moira, who struck up conversations with him whenever she could.

And there was Claire too.

They'd had only two physical sessions, with the second seeing only a slight improvement on their first. He'd been too excited to hold back on much, telling her about how his presentation had gone. Opening up had not been easier the second time, but he had partially managed to and chose to think of it as a small victory.

At the end when he mentioned Grace's suggestion, she'd told him she thought it would be a good idea―along with joining Mayfield's LGBTQ+ alliance (to get out of his comfort zone), Wyatt could open a YouTube channel/TikTok or start a blog.

But he imagined he would get sick of watching and editing video recordings or skits of himself in no time, nitpicking every bad angle until the whole thing crumbled. Also, he'd never been much of a writer so the whole thing was still up in the air.

An Instagram notification appeared on his screen and he tapped it, murmuring a quick reply to a question that Sebastian had asked. He was taken to the app, and blinked slowly, thinking that he must have been looking at a fan account until he tapped on the username to find a verification tick.

harlandidntdoit started following you. 45 secs ago.

And apparently, he had also viewed his story,
Dazed, Wyatt clicked out of the app after taking screenshots and returned to the FaceTime call, where he remained silent for the first full minute before finally losing his chill.

Without warning, he let out an excited squeal, cutting Viv short in the middle of something she was saying. When he eventually regained a measure of composure, he found the two of them gawking at him.

"What's going on?" his sister asked, eyebrows drawing together, and Wyatt realized that while he'd sent her a text with highlights on everything that happened at Harlan's party on the ride home, between school work and other extracurriculars he never got around to doing that.

He threw a glance at their guest, but figured that now was as good a time as any to spill so he began.

"Remember that party I told you about?"

His sister nodded. "The assembly of trust fund babies―how could I forget?"

Sebastian looked between the siblings with uncertainty, clearly interested in what they were saying but too polite to ask to be included. With a nod of consent from Wyatt, Viv filled him in―adding the occasional personal touch.

(Exhibit: "They snorted, like, a pound of coke. Can you believe that?")

The other boy took her words in stride, and Wyatt used the opportunity to study the pleasant symmetry of Sebastian's face. He looked like an idol.

"―then he hooked up with Harlan, and after, almost stole his watch," Viv finished, and Wyatt felt a telltale flush creep across his cheeks as the last part of her sentence registered.

He denied it, and luckily Viv didn't push. Instead she turned to him and asked if that was everything, and Wyatt's embarrassment vanished as a relaxed smile crossed his face.

"Well," he said, deliberately tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Harlan just followed me on Instagram."

His words received no immediate reaction, and then Viv's eyes bulged.

"Shut. Up."

She clapped both hands over her mouth. Sebastian on the other hand smiled, but looked only mildly impressed, and because of this Wyatt decided he would not send the screenshots he'd taken.

Instead, he simpered.

"It's all in a day's work, I guess."

"So what's the plan?" Viv asked, and at Wyatt's shrug she confided in Sebastian. "My brother has the worst luck when it comes to relationships."

To further buttress this, she launched into a detailed account of two of his failed relationships, and as the minutes ticked past Wyatt could feel his mouth slacken in disbelief.

He would be the first to admit how insensitive his sister could be, but even for her this was a little extreme. It was like she'd flipped a switch and become another person entirely―the kind who turned some of his most painful memories into gimmicks just so her crush would laugh.

To make matters worse, it worked. Sebastian was laughing his goofy, out of place laugh by the end of the first one.

It mattered very little that the stories Viv shared were ones they had joked about several times before. Wyatt felt betrayed, and his fingers pricked with the need to hang up without explanation and block his sister.

Halfway through the third story (Heartbreak Four: Henry Cavill) the other two noticed that Wyatt had remained silent through the exchange, and slowly their mirth died down to just a few chuckles, and then silence.

Slowly, a sheepish look made its way onto his sister's face. But he was too worked up to care.

"All things considered, you're pretty comfortable with Sebastian," Wyatt said, keeping his tone casual, almost friendly even. "I mean, you did say he was trying to steal your first chair spot."

Almost as soon as he had spoken Viv's face turned an aggressive shade of red, and Wyatt wished he could take his statement back―though a tiny, mean part of him remained unrepentant.

Either way, the damage had already been done.

"Viv wait," he began, "I―"

"I need to use the bathroom," his sister blurted, and without waiting to catch his reaction she got off the bed and padded out of the room, leaving the two boys to stare awkwardly at each other.

"I should be going," Sebastian said after some time had passed. His easy demeanor had vanished to be replaced with something brittle, and out of nowhere a couple of lines Dispatches came to mind.

But before any of these / Before we turned into the type / Of people who'd treat heartbreak / Like observing a self-portrait on / The wall rather than a feeling we'd / Desperately need to articulate.   

"I'm sorry," he said, not entirely sure he knew why he was apologizing. Just that he had to. "I―I didn't mean any of that."

The other boy considered him through thick-lashed eyes, and Wyatt watched the tension flow out of his frame slowly.

Trying to explain why he'd flared up the way he did would've been too complicated, and so he let his apology sit between them until, finally, Sebastian let out a sigh.

"Look man," he began. "I'm not trying to steal your sister's spot. Even if I wanted to, I don't think I could. Your sister is talented, yes, but she's got this―this dedication to music that's almost scary to watch."

His expression could only have been described as soft and wistful as he spoke of Viv.

"I've always admired that about her, so when this volunteer program at our school started up and we paired up I was pretty excited." Sebastian swallowed. "She always had her guard up around me when we spoke before, but now it's―"

He fidgeted, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"It's good, really good. Better than I expected. And I'm not trying to ruin that. So I'll shut up now because, God, this is embarrassing."

Let's start with you, who trails / After, struck dumb, in love, just / To see where I work. You, who I / Find waiting outside when my / Shift ends. You, feet shuffling as / You ask for my number.

"And about your love life," Sebastian began, calling him back to the present moment. Wyatt tensed. "It's pretty bizarre. Not in a bad way. It's just the kind of stuff you would expect to see on TV. Does that make sense?"

Cautiously, Wyatt gave a nod; and at that moment he heard the footsteps of his sister approaching.
She appeared on the call seconds later, and when she saw the look of contrition on his face she simply shook her head in a gesture of acknowledgment―that they'd both messed up, felt sorry, and now they were going to move past it.

"Hey, Carter," Sebastian said, and when both siblings looked in his direction he bashfully specified. "I meant her."

"Of course you meant me," Viv pointed out smugly, and Wyatt sniffed in mock affront.

The other boy, amusedly taking in their antics, gave an indulgent smile before continuing, and Wyatt mused that if this was what feeling included felt like, it was intoxicating.

"What's the name of the app everyone at school is crazy about, the podcast one?"

"Podster," Viv supplied easily. Then her eyes lit up. "Oh my God, Wyatt, I can't believe we haven't talked about Podster yet. You know about it, right?"

He gave her a blank stare, and once she realized that he was being serious she blanched.

"You must be joking."

"I wish I was," Wyatt replied in monotone.

A beat passed. "I feel like you're being sarcastic."

But of course, that did not stop Viv from launching into an entire spiel on what she described as the Podcast equivalent of YouTube.

"I was thinking your brother should open an account there," Sebastian advised when she finally wound down, and his sister's demeanor turned pensive, like she was mulling over the thought.

"You know, I don't completely hate the idea," she said some time, and before he could put up an objection she had started to nod. "Actually, I could see a group of people getting invested. Seb, you're a genius."

She reached over to pull him into a spontaneous hug and Wyatt saw when the import of her actions hit her because her body froze and after sometime, with more care than the situation required, she slowly extricated herself from him with a nervous laugh.

"Sorry about that," Viv managed with a nervous titter. (He'd never known his sister could titter.) "I got a little carried away."

She spoke without meeting his eyes, and the pleased flush that slowly crept up Sebastian's neck and face was so ridiculously well-timed it made Wyatt want to barf out of jealousy.