Cruella had asked Axel what he was going to do now that he was 30, flirty, and thriving in New Orleans on his birthday. What did Eddie do? Spend her morning sending paragraphs upon paragraphs to everyone Giovanni decided to take down with her in his smear campaign article and hope they hadn't blocked her before she could apologize, of course. Money moves for her new decade.

It was one thing for Giovanni to come after Eddie on any given day, it was another for him to drag her friends into it. It was another thing entirely for him to decide to be biphobic and for a company to allow him to publish that article where he'd get paid per view. Even hate views to read it to yell at him—those, too. The world was a shitty, terrible place and somehow Giovanni always found a way to outdo his shittiness. (Eddie didn't know how to tell Axel that she'd smoked three cigarettes before breakfast when she'd read Giovanni's article.) (Then promptly threw up said breakfast and smoked two more cigarettes.) (Look at her go, unable to quit the vices as soon as things got terrible again.)

She had Cruella's number but she hadn't had the chance to text her since New Orleans. Maybe that was her mistake. Opening a conversation with an apology that Giovanni Perez existed at the same time as them was not the way Eddie wanted to make new friends. If they ever were friends after his smear campaign. Eddie wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to speak to her again—she wasn't sure she wanted to talk to anyone ever again once her apologies were sent.

Cruella replied before Eddie could put her phone on do not disturb and burrow into her blankets for the rest of eternity. It was short and sweet, more than Eddie deserved after dragging her friends into her bullshit. Maybe she should've agreed to talk to Giovanni on his podcast—none of the other shit would've happened. Fuck.

Oh, babe, it's okay. I've heard a lot worse in headlines. That man is nothing more than a bully using a smear campaign to cater to a group of people who will likely never accept him for who he is either. Are you okay? Shitty way to celebrate 30. Happy birthday, I hope you get to do something fun to forget about this.

Yeah, take her dog for a walk and hope nobody recognized her. Ring a ding ding.

laying low. Eddie wrote. i'm still sorry he dragged you into this. that's not fair.

(Stevie sent her a bunch of heart emojis and a quiet happy birthday.) (She didn't owe Eddie anything of the sort.)

I can deal with bullies. Cruella replied. And I can deal with biphobia. It's not your fault. You shouldn't have to apologize for men's bad behaviour.

But it was. Eddie knew it was. She pulled her blankets up a little higher. Up to her ears. Tried to ignore that her pillow was wet from tears all morning. Writing apologies was not her strong suit.

i hope you have a good day despite the shitty men of the world, Eddie said.

Can I ask you a question before you go do something fun? (And I need you to promise me you'll do something fun.)

you can ask me a question, Eddie said. i can't make promises right now, though.

Do you have a picture of Axel's kitchen? I have a delivery that needs to arrive soon but I don't know what it looks like. Also, his address would be great too.

Eddie didn't have it in her to bug her about how cryptically weird that was. Then again, Cruella Queen was a mirage of a person at any given time. She sent her a picture of Peter sitting in the kitchen a week prior; the nicotine patch night. Axel had held up a piece of rotisserie chicken behind Eddie so Peter looked like he was smiling in his photo. The messy kitchen behind him was merely the misé-en-scene of Axel Canterbury. She typed his address a little too quickly.

Perfect. Thank you very much! Drinks on me next time we see each other—I owe you one for that and your birthday.

you literally owe me nothing.

If I owe you nothing, babe, you owe me nothing. Cruella said. Go celebrate!

Eddie put her phone in do not disturb, threw it into a pile of dirty laundry, and pulled her blanket over her head. It didn't take long to fall asleep when she did so, frequent crying and vomiting will do that to a person. She knew that all too well. What she wished she didn't know as well was the sound of Rush entering her apartment, loudly singing Happy Birthday like it wasn't the worst, most invalidating days of her life since she'd been cut out of her mother's stomach and rushed to NICU.

"Go away." Eddie groaned. Tightened her grip on the blanket for the inevitable—

Rush jumped onto the bed beside her. "—Birthday to yoooooou."

"If I blow out that candle and wish for you to leave, will it work?" It was no secret that Rush gave her a cupcake every birthday they'd been friends.

"Not when you just told me your wish."

"You fuckin' pisshead, you almost made the blanket catch on fire."

Eddie's eyes widened. Only one person—in her life, at least—pronounced the letter R that way. "Did you bring Axel with you?"

"We actually met outside," Rush said. "Great timing for your birthday."

"Uh huh," Axel said. Wholly unenthusiastically. "Birthday friends. Whoo."

"Didn't help me out on the singing, though," Rush said. "Dick. You're the one who's the fucking singer."

"Where's your son?" Eddie asked. "Shouldn't you be with him? Not being a potty mouth?"

"There's this really cool new thing called school. The kids go to it on weekdays and learn new things," Rush said. "Wish they'd had it when I was a kid. Maybe I would've gotten into less trouble."

"You wouldn't have Laki if you got into less trouble," Eddie said.

"Thank you, teenage sex police," Rush said. A moment's pause. "Hey, I'm noticing that you're not trying to kick Axel out."

Eddie wasn't sure if she was even allowed to. Him being her so-called rumoured beau was probably too much for one person to handle. She'd understand if he'd been there to scream at her. If Rush hadn't seen the article, he was bound to at some point. Every time she'd opened any of her social medias that morning, she'd had thousands of notifications. No part of her wanted to read any of them.

"And he didn't even bring you a cupcake."

"I didn't almost commit arson."

"Almost is the important word—"

"Can both of you get out of my room?"

"Not until you blow out your candle—" Rush started.

"Go blow each other—" Eddie grumbled.

"Someone's enjoying being 30," Rush said.

"Leave me alone." Eddie held her blanket tighter in her fist when she felt someone tug on it trying to get it off her. She assumed it was Rush and was willing to fight him for her right to stay in bed and feel like shit about herself.

"Yamaguchi," Axel said. A hand landed on her hip in a way that only someone who knew every curve of her body knew how to do. A gentle rub without too much pressure.

"Now you have to get out of bed—" Rush said. "You're like an inch from death, man."

Eddie might've felt that way if his hands and mouth hadn't been all over her. Point to Rush for knowing her in every other circumstance except the ones that involved Axel Canterbury.

The hand on her hip put a little more pressure as a slap rang out. Evidently, Axel didn't want to hear Rush's critiques on how he got Eddie's attention. He leaned back again, the pressure on her hip released. Voice a little closer. "Want to go get wicked trashed?"

Eddie might've kissed him if Rush hadn't been there.

She elected to poke her head out of the blanket and blow out the terrible 3 and 0 candles Rush had placed in the cupcake, dangerously close to falling out and lighting her bedsheets on fire. Speaking of. Eddie had to do her best to ignore that Axel had brought a bouquet of pink lilies. God. She'd already done enough.

"Get the fuck out of my room so I can get dressed."

Rush gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Maybe shower too."

"I hate you."

"Deodorant only works too," Axel said. "And works faster."

"Come on flower boy," Rush said. "Let's get those in water."

*

A terrible quirk about not going out in public with Axel was that Eddie didn't know that when he was drunk, he tended to casually rest his arm on the back of the seat beside him. Which happened to be Eddie's seat. And she was trying to be cool about it. Just like she was being cool about the fact that his knee kept hitting hers because he sat with his legs spread. It was hardly fair he seemed unaffected by the contact and Eddie felt like she needed to excuse herself—she wasn't sure whether the fingers would be down her throat to vomit or somewhere a little lower and a lot more embarrassing for a public washroom.

The nice thing about Rush being an early riser was that they were in a bar in broad daylight and seemingly nobody else was going to show up any time soon. It felt safe in four walls, as uncomfortable as Eddie was away from her blanket cocoon.

The bad thing about Rush being an early riser was that it was even more obvious that he couldn't sing in a karaoke bar where nobody else was going to show up any time soon. In fact, he probably drove people away the moment they came within earshot and his never-ending rendition of female popstars' discographies.

Eddie looked around for a moment. "Did you invite Maverick to this? He'd probably have the time of his life singing to an empty building."

"Mav's, uh—" Axel scratched his jaw for a second. Took a long drink from his old-fashioned. "—Maverick isn't joining us for this."

Eddie's stomach dropped.

Axel tried to recover quickly. "He says it's not because of Giovanni Pisshead."

Eddie closed her eyes. "Did you read the article too? Because there's really only one way Mav would miss out on karaoke."

Axel stayed quiet.

She looked at him. "Axel."

"Come on." Axel gave a weak little scoff. "No comment about how you didn't think I could read? It's your birthday, I'll give it to you for free."

"I'm really not in the mood."

Axel gulped. "That article should've never been published."

"But it was," Eddie said. "And I dragged everyone down with me."

"You didn't do anything."

"Maybe that's the problem." Eddie finished her drink.

"Eds—"

"I don't apologize and this happens," Eddie said. "It's literally nobody's fault except mine."

"You didn't write the article—"

"But I'm the reason it was written."

"It was written because Giovanni is a fuckin' baby," Axel said. He looked more upset than Eddie felt. "I looked him up, that's the only reason he has a platform. He just shits on people until he finds the next person to shit on. It's his whole thing. And you know what? He's from fuckin' Rhode Island. That's so fuckin' embarrassing. How can you be that much of a shithead and you're from a blue state? Get fuckin' real."

"I—"

"And then I found out he's gay? How can you be part of the fucking community you're talking shit about?" Axel looked dumbfounded and Eddie didn't have the heart to tell him it took a certain breed of asshole to do so, but it was far from unheard of. "How can one person be such a dick?"

"I'm sorry you were—"

"Shut up."

"Pardon?" Eddie frowned at him, though it didn't feel like she earned it.

"I already saw your text," Axel said. "Didn't reply to that because you didn't owe me an apology."

"Can't believe you left me on read on my birthday," Eddie said. "Bitch."

Axel laughed lightly. "I was on my way to see if you were okay when I got it. Met Rush at the door and he seemed in his usual good mood, so I just said it was for your birthday. Sorry I didn't beat him here, I didn't even think that he would be—"

He put his hand on her leg and Eddie moved it away. Tried to ignore how hurt Axel looked by it, but he quickly wiped the expression off his face when he thought about it a little harder. He folded his hands in his lap and kept them to himself.

"I mean—I guess I should've assumed people would come see you for your birthday—" Axel continued and Eddie drank the rest of her cup. "But—I don't know—I. Um."

"I didn't know," Eddie said.

"Didn't know what?"

"He..." Eddie sighed. "In New Orleans, Giovanni told me that he had photos. Of me and... and partners. And, I don't know. Told me he was going to spread them around—"

Axel wiped her cheek with his thumb and Eddie should've stopped herself from turning away.

"I thought it was an empty threat. And—and I know that kissing isn't explicit—" Eddie stopped herself before her voice shook. Took a deep breath. "I think it's his step one and—and I'm sorry I—"

"Jesus, Eddie, stop saying you're sorry."

"What else am I supposed to say?"

"Go fuckin' yell at him or sue him but stop apologizing for things you don't need to apologize for."

"If he releases something else—"

"You have more evidence to sue him for being a piece of shit—"

"Relax, Elle Woods, fuck almighty."

Axel looked over at Rush, still singing like there wasn't a care in the world. Stared at him a little longer than someone merely glancing in a direction. Like his brain was working overtime and couldn't multitask to turn back to Eddie. "Mav specifically requested someone sing—" He frowned, pulled his phone out and quickly checked his text messages. Looked up from his lap at her. "—Pink Pony Club?"

"You're telling me you don't know what song that is?" To say Eddie was appalled was to put it lightly. A mixture of Cruella Queen and Chappell Roan was all she needed on a playlist for working out by herself, truthfully. Angry bisexual and upbeat lesbian pop.

"Should I?"

Eddie swatted a hand in his direction and grabbed her drink, taking a quick sip. "You're insane."

"Guess that means you're singing it."

She let out a laugh, head tilted back and everything. "Oh, baby, I don't sing."

Axel made a face that Eddie couldn't quite read. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he wiped the expression clean before she could decipher it. Instead, the corner of his mouth twitched like it was fighting a smile. "Consider yourself lucky you didn't say that to me before I finished my album."

Eddie punched him in the shoulder. Always violent even when she was happy for someone. That was low on her list of things to fix about herself when so much else was more fucked up than that. "You finished your album and you didn't tell me?"

"Ow." Axel rubbed the spot. Hunched away from her. "Yes. I was gonna tell you before Samoan Taylor Swift showed up when I was trying to come see you."

"You can't blame him for not telling me your album is done."

"Good fuckin' thing I signed up for Carly Simon, huh?"

"Don't threaten me."

"Does that mean you looked her up?"

Eddie scoffed. On the contrary. Her time on the internet was spent reading shitty articles about herself because she was a masochist. "Why would I do that?"

"Because she's amazing."

"When's the release date?"

"For Carly Simon—"

"For your album, you fucking—" Eddie groaned. "Jesus."

"I'm fucking Jesus—"

"Shut up."

"May third." Axel rolled his eyes. "Mav refused to let me release it on Star Wars day when he said we were going to fast track it and I think he's a little bitchy for that."

"Dare I ask why—"

"Ewan McGregor and Solo are titles of songs," Axel said. He crossed his arms. "I mean—What other day would be a release day? It's not May the Third be with you, Mav's a dick."

"I wouldn't go that far."

Axel threw his hand up. "Says releasing on a Saturday would be wrong if we're releasing it soon. Fridays are where it's at, usually."

Eddie didn't see a single thing wrong with Maverick's logic. Which was a rare, yet not unheard of, event. "Releasing it on a Saturday is weird."

"A Saturday with a purpose. God."

"Do I get to listen to it first?"

Axel looked at her. "Why? Scared of what I sang about you?"

"So, you're admitting it?"

Axel's eyes widened a little. "No."

"You're not admitting it but it's true?"

A scoff. "You know, I was trying to cheer you up. This interrogation isn't very nice."

Eddie raised an eyebrow at his waggling finger in her face, circling the air like he was trying to collect her good point. "Thank you for coming to see me. Congratulations on finishing your album. I look forward to listening."

Axel smiled a little shyly for someone who had brought her to the recording studio with him. Took a long sip from his drink to keep from saying anything. Almost bashful. It was an emotion Eddie didn't often see from him. The man who would drink hot dog soda to ensure people liked him, acting like he didn't attract the attention of the room whether he tried to or not. That he wasn't the human embodiment of gravitational pull. (In a way, that's probably why he and Cruella got along as well as they did.) (They both unintentionally made themselves the centre of the universe—New Orleans was an implosion in far too many ways.)

Eddie liked a shy Axel Canterbury because it was like he was actually human. Like he didn't have everything figured out. Like he wasn't only crafted out of clay to forgive Eddie for her shitty behaviour in the calmest way possible. Like he could feel something other than serenity that balanced out her agitation.

Maybe they both deserved a breather. Or some peace.

Eddie clinked her glass against his and drank silently.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Eddie nodded. Drank a little quicker. "Don't worry about me."

*

"Are you actually sure you're okay?" Axel had somehow convinced Rush he was sober enough to not get kicked off public transit despite the fact that he'd performed You're So Vain—Eddie didn't missed the irony that the song was about her—and when he'd come to sit down at their table after his song, he'd completely missed his chair.

That being said, Rush had less time to sober up than the two childless adults who didn't need to pick a kid up from school. So, in reality, it didn't take much convincing. And maybe Eddie was selfish because in spite of Giovanni's article invading her privacy, she enjoyed the look of Axel's arm as he held the bar above her head on the cable car. Sue her. It had been a rough morning and she shouldn't have drank in her sorrows and she had sunglasses on so nobody could tell where she was looking anyway.

(No, her hitting her head on his bicep when the car stopped abruptly was not because she was staring at his arm.)

(She didn't have it in her to stop Axel from holding her steady in the cable car for the rest of the trip and he didn't have it in him not to stifle his snorts at her falling over herself.) (Call her weak.)

"I'll be fine." Eddie's momentary weakness of letting him hold her was overcome the moment they stepped off the car. That photo was behind her eyes every time she blinked. She was going to have to lay low, despite everything she wanted.

"He's just an asshole, Yamaguchi."

"Yeah," Eddie said. "But this was personal."

"Believe me when I say it's not the slightest bit insulting to be your—" Axel cleared his throat. "—rumour."

Eddie stared at him for only a split second. From now on, she wasn't allowed to stare at him longer. Eyes darted behind him, gazed over his shoulders. Made sure there were no cameras trying to seep their way into her moments. That photo was their moment, it was supposed to be for them. The world wasn't allowed in their moments. And so, maybe there couldn't be anymore moments. Nobody got hurt if Eddie had no moments. Nobody could set her on fire with their magnifying glass under the hot San Francisco sun if Eddie never stepped foot outside of where she belonged.

"I appreciate that," Eddie said. Scratched her nails down the itchy patch of eczema on her arm. Contemplated doing so until it bled so she could feel anything. She had a feeling Axel wouldn't let her and she couldn't let him touch her after her stupid cable car behaviour. "I really do. But this isn't really... about you."

Axel's face softened a little. "No, I know—"

"I mean. Thank you. And—and all. But." Eddie pulled her phone out and looked at it quickly. A phantom buzz in her pocket that she wanted to convince herself was a reply from the only person who hadn't texted her back after her wordy apologies that would never have enough words. Still nothing. Like there had been all day. "He hurt my friends. And he dragged you into this. Because of me. It's hard to be okay with that."

"It's not—"

"I know there's nothing I could've done," Eddie said. "But it's still on me. I still have to live with that. If I don't deal with it, he's going to find a way to turn you away from me too. It's a matter of time."

"He can't—" Axel pulled out a bar napkin from his pocket and held it out to her. Fucking embarrassing she was crying in the middle of a sidewalk. Even worse was that she refused to take it from him.

Axel looked like she'd told him she never wanted to see him again. She wasn't sure that's not what she was saying. It was a shame Eddie only considered herself a casualty in trying to save Axel from Giovanni's death ray. Some sort of hero. Axel was staring at her like she'd pulled her mask off to reveal she was the villain all along.

"Eddie." Axel stepped forward, leaned in a little. Eddie knew that face, because it was supposed to be their moment. She took a step back to keep his distance from her. The look on his face when he realized it made her want to take it back. Made her want to kiss him in public and made her want to find out where Giovanni lived and kiss Axel on his porch to show that it didn't matter to her what he did. Except it did matter. And it hurt. And she was going to hurt herself more than she needed to to make up for it.

"I don't need you more involved with this than you already were," Eddie said, shaking her head.

Axel looked like he wanted to take her hand off where her nails were still scratching. Raw. Exposed. Harmful. Those hazel doe eyes begged her to let him in. To let him be there with her through this.

Eddie couldn't do that. Hell. She couldn't even stop herself from looking around him again. Scared someone was catching them. Invading them. Taking them for what they weren't. "I'm sorry."

Axel nodded. There was a determination in his eyes that his mouth betrayed. "Okay."

"I'm—"

"Eddie." Axel smiled a little. "It's okay."

"I need some time to figure this out," Eddie said. "I'm not—"

"I get it."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to keep saying that."

The lack of texts from Maverick said otherwise. Eddie felt sick to her stomach and wrapped her arms around her waist. At least that gave her hands something better to do than threaten to tear her skin off.

"Um. This is going to be zero pressure," Axel said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Typing quickly. A buzz in Eddie's pocket. Not from the person she needed to text her back, even if it was that he never wanted to speak to her again. (Eddie was good at having a flair for the dramatic, evidently.) "That's my therapist's number. He's great. He's helped me a lot. If you don't want to—If you can't talk to me, or Rush, or—or whatever. He's paid to listen."

Eddie nodded. Stared across the street when she saw a small flash of something. Tried to ignore the heartbeat in her ears. It was a mirror on a bike hitting the sun at the wrong angle. Eddie earned a glance at Axel for that one—tried to ignore he looked like he wanted to puke too. "Thank you."

Axel nodded back at her. Tucked his hands into his pockets. Eddie tried to ignore the paragraph on his t-shirt she hadn't noticed until that moment. (yes, i'm drunk. but you're beautiful. and tomorrow, i'll be sober, but you'll still be beautiful.)

"Happy birthday, Yamaguchi."