"You're gorgeous."

Everleigh tried not to smile as she ran her hand through her hair. Newly cut and back to her natural brown. She kind of missed the blonde—the fact Maverick liked it was reassuring. "Are you wearing zit cream to make me feel better about meeting your mother? Or do you actually need it?"

"The correct response is, Kingston, you're gorgeous as well." Sure he was, Everleigh wasn't denying that. But that didn't make it false that across his chin was several dots of white zit cream that popped out from his brown skin.

"You've got a shit English accent."

Maverick laughed. "You're impossible."

Everleigh smiled. Even in the tiny screen on her laptop, Maverick could make her smile. If the closest they could get was a blurry video call, she'd take it. She reached past her laptop screen, finding a tube of her zit cream. Unscrewing the cap, Everleigh looked in the mirror above her desk, pressing a couple dots of cream on her cheek where there were spots beginning to form. She screwed the cap back on and tossed the tube of cream back on her desk. "You're gorgeous as well, Kingston."

"I'm absolutely wearing zit cream because I need it," Maverick said, laughing in a way that wasn't at her. "This new album is stressing me out."

Everleigh sat a little more upright. (Her from six months ago would be so embarrassed—Juno was right.) "New album?"

Maverick put a hand on his chest. "Everleigh Meadowlark? Interested in my new album? I'm honoured."

Everleigh rolled her eyes. "Forget I asked."

"I can't tell you anything," Maverick said.

"Can't or don't want to?"

"I..." Maverick narrowed his eyes. "I want to see your reaction."

"Keeping secrets is not the way to start a relationship," Everleigh teased.

"Begging for new music when I just released an EP for you—"

"For Her."

Maverick snorted. "You can say me. You're the only one who can."

"How do I know it's about me?" Everleigh asked. "You never said my name."

"I said ever leave, that's the closest I could get," Maverick said. "I did try."

"I—" Everleigh thought about this. She'd never realized it, but he was absolutely right. He definitely had alluded to her name. "Huh."

"And suddenly she's at a loss for words." Maverick grinned. "Imagine that."

Everleigh held her middle finger up at him.

Maverick laughed and reached past his laptop. When he looked back at her, he grinned. Holding a notebook in front of his chest, Maverick opened to a random page. "If you can decipher that, that's your one hint from me."

Everleigh took a screenshot without question. "Fine."

Maverick closed his notebook and laughed. "I can't believe you actually did it."

"Don't make losing bets." Everleigh shrugged.

"Not a losing bet when I know my handwriting is shit."

"Why the new notebook?"

"Realized I had a new muse." Maverick waved his notebook around. "She's already half full."

"I'll get over it, but you know Stevie's going to kill you when she finds out you filled half a notebook in a month and not told her the contents of it, right?"

Maverick moved his hand so Everleigh could see the London sticker he'd placed across the front cover. Where his old notebook had been leather, bound by a string holding everything inside, this one was more hardcovered plastic with rubber bands acting as ties. He'd likely bought it at the pound store one of the days he'd had Everleigh's car. She'd place a hard bet that he had his boarding passes tucked inside. "I'm hoping the contents convince her that I shouldn't be killed."

"A whole album of Paper Planes?"

"Is that your song of choice from Revive?"

"If it's not yours, you're nuts."

"Must be nuts." Maverick pushed his glasses up his nose with a single finger.

Everleigh waved her hand like she was attempting to get the first violins in an orchestra to crescendo. "And...?"

"I like Back to Life, but I haven't seen many people say that. They're with you on Paper Planes."

Everleigh felt something heat up her chest. "How does that make you feel?"

Maverick shrugged. "I'm glad they found something they enjoyed. It's not up to me to dictate which songs people like and dislike."

"I don't dislike Back to Life," Everleigh said.

Quite the opposite. It had one of his best melodies. Some of his best lyrics. It wasn't a single, though. They hardly played it on the radio. Everleigh had to memorize the lyrics by listening to it from her phone in her cupholder acting as a speaker.

(Spent so long in the ups and downs / every smile I gave met, shut up! and frowns / Saw the message, missed your call and / didn't think you'd be on the line bawling / Come as fast as I can, fly me away, Peter Pan / Knocked on every fuckin' hotel door / 'Til you opened up, a sight for sore / eyes; rest your head on me, I'm your man / Lost in thoughts like the boys / Shot out like cannons, ships destroyed / Darling, darling, take a breath / My night is yours, to have and hold / You've got me, I'm sold / promise you're not out of my depth.) (How could Everleigh not have fallen in love?)

"It's fine if you do," Maverick said. "I wasn't trying to imply anything about you specifically. Just fans in general. Sometimes they like the more experimental ones, sometimes they don't. That's okay."

Everleigh didn't like not having a way to make him feel better. Song writing wasn't like nursing. There wasn't a prescription. No answer that was right every time. Art was hard. One had to keep recreating themselves to stay relevant and sometimes even that wasn't enough. Everleigh wouldn't have known how to feel if she'd put her heart into something about her own life and people simply decided they didn't like it. Who were they to dictate whether poetry about oneself was good or not? What defined good or bad when it was entirely too subjective to start with?

"Every radio DJ I've heard has liked the entire EP," Everleigh tried. Lamely. "For what that's worth."

"I'm not upset," Maverick said. "You asked what my favourite song was from the EP."

"I just..." Everleigh frowned. "I want you to know it's good."

Maverick smiled.

"What?"

"You..." Maverick chuckled. Pretended his hand wasn't offscreen scribbling something in his notebook. A lazy gaze tossed to the side as he filled another page.

"I what?"

"You, uh... You wrinkle your nose when you frown," Maverick said. "It's cute."

Everleigh brushed the side of her knuckle down the bridge of her nose. "Shut up."

"I don't think so." Maverick shook his head.

"If you're working on a new album," Everleigh started, "does that mean you're going to stay in Windsor for a while?"

Maverick pressed his lips together, pulling them to the side. "I... also can't tell you much about this," he started, "but any chance you could make it to LA in early June?"

Everleigh moved her finger on the touchpad, opening her desktop calendar. "Can I bring homework?"

"I'm sure you would anyway," Maverick teased.

"Depending on the day, I might have to come straight from Moscow." Everleigh closed the calendar.

"I'll get you a date for sure," Maverick said. "Can I text it to you?"

Everleigh nodded. "Sure. I'll try my best."

"I'll try to make it to London after LA," Maverick said. "Properly. With paperwork and less panic. I'll plan it. I promise."

"I'm honoured."

Maverick smiled. "For now, I hope watching movies together works. I've got my hands tied trying to figure out which of these songs is album worthy."

"I'm sure they all are."

"Everleigh," Maverick said. "This is a 300 page notebook."

"You've written 150 songs in a month?"

"I've written 150 pages of shit that needs sorted through, yeah," Maverick said with a small laugh. "Kind of why I'm stuck here. You're distracting."

"I'm so sorry." Everleigh laughed.

"Don't be." Maverick smiled. "Ever."

Everleigh pinched the air with her fingers. "I'm a little sorry."

"How dare you be so entirely distracting?"

"It's a gift."

Maverick laughed. "Will you continue being distracting so this movie is less scary?"

"If this scares you as bad as the last one, I think all hope may be lost."

"It's a horror movie."

"It's really not that bad."

"Says the woman who's seen it."

"I don't think I've ever jumped that much," Everleigh said, laughing. "I'll have to get you to toss an item of clothing every time you jump. It's that bad. You'll be stripped by the time the first act is done."

Maverick stared at Everleigh. Eyes narrowed, head cocked. Brow only slightly pinched together.

"You're not actually considering this?" Everleigh laughed.

"I think I can make it through."

"If you make it through 20 minute increments without jumping—"

"Which I can."

"Which you absolutely cannot—" Everleigh continued, "I'll strip something off."

Maverick poked his tongue in his cheek. "20 minutes is a long time."

"Already doubting yourself?"

"20 minutes is a lot in a horror movie."

"Fine. Ten."

"You really don't think I can't jump for ten minutes?"

"I really don't," Everleigh said. "So much so that I'll give you a head start and I'll still win."

Maverick raised his eyebrows. "And by head start you mean—"

Everleigh wasn't sure where her confidence had come from. It wasn't even that she wasn't wearing anything under her jumper; just that she was wearing a vest. A little sleeveless shirt that, really, wasn't showing anything. Maverick wasn't even in the room and Everleigh felt naked, even while fully clothed. She tossed the jumper to the side before she could change her mind. "There."

Maverick looked at her like she was the world and that made her want to crawl into a hole and die. "All right," he managed. "Game on."

"You're not seriously distracted by my shoulders like one of those daft teenagers they make dress codes for in secondary school, are you?" Everleigh crossed her arms. Likely not helping with the way she was sat forward.

"More, just... you. In general."

Everleigh muffled a snort laugh with her hand. "Big words from the man who's about to lose his trousers."

"I'm going to win this," Maverick said.

"I'm ready to restart the clock every time you jump."

"Not gonna happen, Meadowlark."

*

Everleigh laughed harder during Scream 2 than she thought she ever had in the past. "Kingston—" Everleigh said, wiping tears from her eyes as the credits began rolling. "I specifically told you not to take losing bets."

"I'm freezing." Maverick walked to his bed, only his boxers on as he grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. He'd opted to lose his glasses over his underwear, which only made Everleigh laugh hard enough she nearly fell out of her chair. "You realize I live in Ontario, right? It's fucking cold."

"Babes, I live in London—" Everleigh laughed. Snorted. Laughed harder. Sure, Everleigh was missing her socks and the jumper she'd taken off before the movie started. But she was still miles ahead of Maverick, down to his last article of clothing and shred of dignity. "We're closer to the Arctic than you are."

"If I'm remembering right," Maverick said as he sat back down in front of his computer, "You needed my jacket in Vegas."

"Minor details." Everleigh waved her hand at him dismissively as she fought more laughter. Her stomach ached from two hours of it.

A loud noise from the credits made Maverick jump once again. "Fucking shit on a stick."

Everleigh snorted when she laughed, pressed her forehead to her desk. Thankful she didn't have a mouthful of tea. "I'll give you a pass on that one."

"You're so considerate." Maverick pulled his blanket up a little more, allowing it to act as a hood over his head. Curls poked out from the edge of the blanket, peeking out to say hello. Everleigh wanted to kiss his cheeks.

"I try," Everleigh said.

"Is it weird to like that one better than the first one?" Maverick asked. "'Cause I... kind of did."

"Are you just saying that because you know it's my favourite movie?" Everleigh's eyes widened. If Maverick had been in the same room as her, he'd be getting tackled into bed that very moment. Holy fuck.

"I... I don't think I knew it was your favourite movie."

"Are you being serious or are you joking?"

"I'm being serious. I didn't know it was your favourite but I do think it was better than the first one."

"Kingston, I'm moments away from buying a plane ticket just to kiss you," Everleigh said. "You better not be fucking with me."

"I'm—are you serious?" That stupid fucking blanket framed his face a little too perfectly, allowing every etching of shock that dressed it to shine through on the pixelized video call.

"I've never been more serious," Everleigh said. "No one has ever told me that they like Scream 2 better than Scream."

Maverick smiled. "I legitimately think it's better. It was funnier. Dewey was cuter. The reveal was interesting. I liked the sequel rules."

"You really need to stop, I have class in a matter of days and now I'm looking at flights." Everleigh's finger scrolled a little too quickly, eyes scanning as she compared prices for flights from London Gatwick to Windsor International.

Maverick laughed. "Can you last a month without it?"

"Not when you're talking about this. It's making me want to do impulsive things."

"Are you... is this turning you on?"

"I'm not saying no but you won't hear me admit the other word."

"The Y word?"

"Shut it, Kingston."

"I can't believe this does it for you."

"It's my favourite movie."

Maverick laughed harder. Which was bold for someone sitting in his boxers wrapped in a quilt who likely couldn't see because he'd been forced to remove his glasses. "I wrote six songs and I'm working on a new album about you—"

"How sweet." Everleigh mockingly put the back of her hand to her chin, like she was posing for a photo. She pursed her lips like she was puckering up; which, really, she was ready and willing to kiss every inch of his face and more if he'd been in her flat with her. It wasn't too far off.

"—And me saying I enjoyed Scream 2 is what gets you going?"

"I'm not denying that."

"You're a dork."

"And you're a spoon. Are we stating the obvious?" Everleigh's feigned venom was less likely to sting with how hot her face felt as Maverick grinned at her. She refused to look in her camera or at the mirror above her desk to see how red her face was. Leaving that up to her imagination was the best possible self care she could think of. Look at her go. Progress.

Maverick dug something out of a drawer as he left Everleigh to stew in her blush. Ripping open a package hardly the size of his palm. Tossing a couple into his mouth, Maverick looked back at her.

"Are you eating fruit snacks?"

"Gushers. Yeah." Maverick nodded.

"I'm sorry?" Everleigh frowned.

"A Fruit Gusher?" Maverick stared back at Everleigh like she'd grown another head. "You don't have Fruit Gushers?"

"I haven't the faintest what that is."

"It's a fruit snack with, like, juice in the middle?" Maverick said, more like it was a question. "And then when you bite into it, it... you know..." Maverick coughed into his fist. "It gushes."

"And you... just have those in your desk?"

"Yeah."

"You can forget about whatever Scream 2 was doing to me because that is the worst explanation and justification for eating something in the history of the world."

Maverick snorted. "I'm going to send you an entire box of these and you'll be sorry you dissed them."

"I really don't think I will."

"Your loss, Meadowlark."

"I'll take the loss."

Maverick tossed another couple fruit snacks into his mouth as he laughed. "Stubborn."

"Perhaps I've got a palette higher than a six year old."

"Stevie told me that you enjoy beans on toast."

"Snitch."

Maverick laughed. "She breaks NDAs for fun, you know. You can't trust her not to snitch about beans on toast."

Everleigh laughed with him. "Couple of jerks."

"I can't believe you dyed your hair."

"Do you hate it?"

"I don't," Maverick said, "but does it matter if I did?"

"Kind of?" Everleigh said. "You have to look at it."

"It suits you."

"Did you hate the blonde?"

"No—I—Everleigh, what?"

"I'm making sure." Everleigh scratched the back of her neck.

"You're like the moon," Maverick said.

"What?"

"Look, everyone always says that people are like the sun," Maverick said. "But nobody likes looking at the sun. It burns and it causes damage and, of course we need it, but nobody enjoys staring at the sun. You're not supposed to. But the moon? Everyone loves the moon. It's the one thing people want to take photos of. Everyone sings about the moon and her light and it brings the best features out in anyone you're looking at. The poets write about the moon and how she shines and how spending hours on a starry night looking at her is one of the best ways to waste time."

"Technically the moon doesn't have its own light."

"Everleigh."

"It's the sun's light reflecting off the moon."

"You're the worst."

"I get what you mean, though," Everleigh said. "Thank you."

"Feel better?"

"A little."

"Take the science out of it, you fucking dork."

"I'll try."

"That was the most painful response to a compliment I think I've ever had."

"I'm sorry." Everleigh let out a weak laugh.

"It's fine," Maverick said, brushing the apology away with his hand as the smile grew on his face. "Noted for next time that you like scientifically correct compliments."

"Thank you," Everleigh said.

"It's what I'm here for."

"No," Everleigh said. "I really mean it."

Maverick looked at her for a long moment. The kind that had he actually been in the room, she would've felt naked and bare and like he could see every single flaw she had. "I'm here whenever you need. Don't let your head get the best of you."

Everleigh gave him a small smile. Tried not to let him see she'd pressed her hand to the screen, imagining she could run her thumb along his cheekbone.