CHAPTER THREE

"Now suddenly you're asking for it back. Could you tell me, where'd you get the nerve? Yeah, you could say you miss all that we had, but I don't really care how bad it hurts, when you broke me first."
~Tate McRae, 'you broke me first'

~~~

From the top of the roof, the singing of crickets floats through the air, being carried by the midnight wind. Mountainous trees shroud the lights from the street lamps below, although the moon betrays the shadow's confidence as it shines down. The moonlight reflects off August's tear-soaked cheeks, making his skin glow.

The rooftop creaks, causing August to flinch and look behind him. Griffin, with his long hair pulled back to showcase the genuine concern on his face, crawls through his bedroom window and onto the roof.

The dark-haired boy scoots forward until he's hip-to-hip with his best friend. August pulls his knees to his chest, tightly wrapping his arms around himself.

Griffin doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. The entire neighborhood probably heard the things August's dad had yelled at him, leading to the blonde running out of the house and going to the one place he knows he's safe: with Griffin.

Digging into his sweatshirt pocket, Griffin pulls out his iPod, unwrapping the wired earbuds. August doesn't even blink when Griffin places one of the earbuds in his left ear; he simply closes his eyes and takes in the music that begins to play.

Music has always been just one of those things for them. In times of crisis, or times of rejoicing, music is what carries the boys through it all.

The roof creaks when August shifts, resting his head on his best friend's shoulder. Neither of them say anything, letting the quiet atmosphere be occupied by music and crickets.

***

"Hello?" Griffin waves his hand in August's stunned face. "Earth to August? Guau, you're really pale. Well, paler than usual."

That snaps August out of his shocked daze. "I'm sorry, I hallucinated for a second there. What did you just say?"

"That you're pale? I know you burn easily but you should still try to get some more sunshine—"

"Not that," August interjects. "The thing you said before."

Griffin's expression softens. "I meant what I said. I want to fix things between us, if I can."

"If you can," August repeats blankly. "And... that's something you think you're capable of doing? Really? You?"

Shrugging, Griffin says, "I think so. We've been friends for... geez, just under two decades. Friendships like ours don't just end that easily. You were like a brother to me."

Yeah, a brother that you used to screw around with when no one was looking, August wants to say.

"We were friends for two decades," August says instead. "But we haven't been for three years. My life has moved on without you in it. I have enough friends — friends who were actually there for me when my mom died."

The expression on Griffin's face darkens, and he takes a step closer to August. Swallowing thickly, August forces himself to not take a step backwards, but being this close to Griffin is making his head spin a little.

"That is not fair," Griffin says lowly. His dark eyes pierce into August's green ones. "You know I wanted to be there. June was like a second mom to me, but I knew you were still pissed at me and did need the added stress of having me hanging around. I kept my distance for your sake. Not mine."

August inhales deeply, letting the oxygen fill his lungs and squash these arising complicated feelings.

"I want to make things up to you," Griffin continues slowly, punching each word. "I want my best friend back."

For a moment, August almost falls for it. The look of sincerity in Griffin's eyes, it places August right back on the rooftop they used to sit upon as children, and he itches to crawl back into that familiar comfort once more.

Until August hears the memory of Griffin's voice ringing in his head, delivering a hard slap of reality.

"August! I'm talking about August. About how he's in love with me or some shit. Can you believe that? August thought we could date or something. Stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard... Oh, I see. Now that I'm out of the picture, you get to be his best friend, huh? What, you gonna fuck him, too?"

Right. That's the kind of person Griffin is now. Griffin isn't his best friend from the rooftop anymore, and August isn't the kid who needed to lean on Griffin for support.

Mentally scolding himself for his temporary moment of weakness, August straightens his spine and faces Griffin head-on. Keeping their gazes locked together, August takes another step forward until they're only inches apart. August thinks he hears Griffin's breath hitch, but he ignores it.

"You know what I want?" August questions rhetorically. "I want you to fuck. Off."

August's shoulder knocks against Griffin's as he brushes past. His chest feels lighter somehow; glad that he was able to hold his ground and not cave into a simple apology.

"Who's Off?" Griffin shouts after him. Even without turning around, August can hear the smile in his voice. "And when can I meet him?"

The only response August offers as he walks down the street is his middle finger, high in the air.

***

With his laptop propped on his bed, August paces his room, biting the nail of his thumb. The tension in his gut builds with each second that passes as the video call attempts to connect. The video continues to ring for nearly a whole minute. August glances at the clock and winces. It's only five o'clock in the morning in Bosnia.

"Babe?" Myles's voice comes through the speakers, although a bit staticky. "August, can you hear me?"

Even though the video lags and the sound isn't clear, August is immensely relieved when he finally sees his boyfriend. Laying on his bed, Myles has his toned armed folded under his head; his thick hair pulled into a bun. He instantly greets August with a warm smile, helping the blonde relax.

"Yeah, I can hear you," August says, suppressing a sigh. "Did I wake you? Sorry, I didn't think about the time before calling. I just... I really needed to hear your voice."

There's some shuffling on the other end as Myles readjusts his position until his sitting up in bed. "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

August nearly melts, but the weight on his mind keeps him sober. "You won't believe the night I had."

Myles listens intently as August rants about this disastrous evening. Griffin's surprise appearance. Griffin's announcement that he's staying. Griffin's request to start over with August. Griffin, Griffin, Griffin. The entire night was ruined by one common factor.

"I mean, you should have seen him tonight!" August fumes. "Smiling and joking around, as if what happened three years ago wasn't a big deal! Can you believe the nerve— the gall— the fucking audacity of this guy?!"

"Breathe, babe. Breathe," Myles interjects calmly. August hadn't realized that he was holding his breath until Myles said that. He inhales, greedily filling his lungs with the air he lost while ranting.

"Thanks," August breathes out. "I'm just— Jesus, I don't even have the words to describe how angry I am."

"I'm sorry that hap—"

"Oh! I forgot to tell you what Elliot said. Apparently, while I was healing from a broken heart — on top of dealing with losing my mom — Griffin was doing just fine." August laughs, throwing his hands up. "Can you believe that? He was fine. I thought he would've been a bit torn up over losing his best friend, but nope! He was completely fine. Just fine."

"He didn't seem bothered at all when he saw you tonight?"

August thinks about that for a moment. "Not at first. He was acting like nothing happened. Like he just went on some long trip, and that I would be waiting for him when he got back. He clearly doesn't think that what he did was a big deal to me."

"You said he wants to fix things, right?" Myles asks. "Maybe he is sorry for what happened. He wouldn't be talking about fixing things unless he knew something was broken."

"I guess, but!" August groans, rubbing both hands over his face. "Myles, if you saw him tonight, you'd know exactly what I mean when I say he did not seem remorseful. Yeah, he was saying he wants to fix things, but that doesn't change the fact that he seemed completely unaffected by seeing me. It's like he doesn't understand just how badly he hurt me."

"Maybe he doesn't," Myles suggests. "I'm sure if he understood the pain he caused you, things would've been different tonight."

The pacing in August's room stops. The wheels turn in his head as he processes what Myles just said, and a lightbulb goes off.

"Myles," August says, a smile slowly growing. "You're a freakin' genius."

Myles laughs nervously. "Thanks? But, uh... what did I say that makes me a genius?"

"Griffin is acting so laid-back because he doesn't understand how badly he hurt me," August explains hurriedly. "I need to make him understand!"

"How exactly do you plan to do that?"

"Well, he made fun of me for falling in love with him, so that's what I'll do! But, you know, in reverse."

"Woah, woah," Myles says, shaking his head. "August, you can't make him fall in love with you."

August furrows his brows. "Why not? Sure, I didn't major in acting, but I can probably act like I like him enough for it to work."

"I'm not comfortable with my boyfriend seducing another man," Myles says sternly. Over the low-quality screen, August can see Myles's muscles tensing up.

"I'm not going to seduce him," August assures him. "Trust me, I don't think I could stomach so much as hugging the guy, let alone being... intimate with him. There are more than one ways to make someone love you. I'll just remind him of how great our friendship was, and throw in some extra charm." That should be enough, right?"

"I don't know," Myles grumbles, crossing his arms. "I still don't like it."

"Babe," August says extra-sweetly. "I'm not going to cheat on you. Promise."

"This whole thing just feels weird. You used to be in love with Griffin. How am I supposed to know that you won't fall in love with him again?"

August's voice softens. "Myles, do you trust me?"

His boyfriend sighs. "I do, but—"

"This is something I need to do. I'm not going to have the closure I've been looking for until I know Griffin is truly sorry. And you said it yourself, he won't be truly sorry until he understands my pain."

"Babe..."

"I hate him," August says firmly. "I hate him more than I've ever hated anyone in my life. If I could run him over with my Corolla without getting charged with attempted murder, I would."

That manages to make Myles crack a smile. "Please don't get yourself arrested. Being away from you in Bosnia is hard enough, and I'm not sure the prison guards would let me video chat with you every day."

August pretends to pout. "Are you saying you wouldn't come home, even if I was in jail? That's heartless."

"The world of filmmaking doesn't stop just for you, La'u Pe'u," Myles teases, tacking on the nickname he knows makes August melt.

August's heart flutters in his chest at the term of endearment. Whenever Myles says anything in Samoan to him, it turns August into a puddle of overly-affectionate goop. A blush rises up to the tip of August's ears.

"I miss you," August murmurs, sinking down onto his bed. Rolling onto his side, August faces the screen and gives his boyfriend a small pout.

"Oh, sweetheart, I miss you too," Myles sighs. "Only two more months. Nine weeks, tops. Then I'll be back and you'll have my undivided attention."

"Can't wait," August says with a grin. "Sorry that I've been monopolizing the conversation. I didn't even ask how filming went yesterday."

"Yesterday was fine. We've been having issues with one of our actresses demanding more money, but we're handling it."

"Why would she suddenly ask for more pay? You've already been shooting for three months."

"Who knows?" Myles shrugs. "It could be that she's unhappy with how long the project is taking. The original plan was to be wrapping up this week, but it's been taking a lot longer than we thought to make this film. We didn't really account for a lot of things, like bad weather, staff illness, budget issues. It's not as straightforward as I anticipated."

"Well, are you going to do it? Give her more money, I mean."

Myles sighs again, which August notices he's been doing a lot of since the start of their video call.

"I don't know," Myles responds honestly. "Truth is, I'm not sure how much more we'd even be able to offer her. We're already running on a pretty tight budget. But it's not like we can hire a different actress at this point, not when we've already shot so much footage of her."

"I'm sorry, babe. Is there anything I can do to help? Not saying I can send money over or anything, but maybe I could help in other ways?"

Myles grins coyly. "You can help relieve some stress."

"Oh?" August quirks an eyebrow. His lips turn up in a smile, already knowing where this is going by the mischievous look in Myles's eyes.

"They say sex is a great stress-reliever."

"Do they now?" August hums, sitting up on his knees. Myles's green and blue eyes track his every movement.

"They do," Myles says, not taking his eyes off the screen for even a second. His heart rate picks up as August's fingers teasingly trace the waistband of his own pants before popping open the front button.

~~~