Ray's exhaustion from the concert put him to bed at a decent hour, and woke him up at the semi-reasonable hour of ten in the morning. Sora was already awake, and when Ray stepped out into the open, Sora wouldn't have noticed were it not for the fact that Ray was wearing the sweatpants Sora had suggested he buy at Forever 21.

    Sora turned away with a roll of his eyes, thinking, Damn, I know this guy's whole wardrobe now, and decided that it was annoying.

    They left for Aldi's before both of them could be consumed by homework. Ray manned the cart while Sora wandered aimlessly through the aisles, disappeared, and reappeared only to drop something off in the cart. Each time, Sora found Ray in the produce section fondling fruits and vegetables.

    "Dude, are you gonna spend an hour poking mangos? Get a move on," Sora said.

    "It's serious stuff!" Ray insisted. He noted the egg carton Sora put in the cart and asked, "Did you check to see if the eggs are cracked?"

    Sora stilled, cursed, and reluctantly went to the carton. He flipped it open, judged from the surface, and shut the carton. "They're fine. Just get the damn mango, dude. We don't have all day."

    Ray shrugged and said, "Geez, alright, I'm getting the mango."

    Ray stocked up on cooking supplies and large vegetables that took up an obnoxious amount of space in the cart. He obtained the largest bag of corn tortillas imaginable on top of rice and pinto beans, which Sora eyed suspiciously as they stacked their items onto the conveyer belt to the cash register.

    True to his word, Ray paid for half of Sora's groceries, which Sora found hilarious in the sense that the twenty he gave Ray was now being used to pay for the other half of his own groceries.

    They kept to themselves during the trip, for the most part, which meant that the drive was quiet and contemplative. Sora spent the entire time inadvertently assessing Ray's driving skills, which resembled an elderly lady who was not only cautious, but also spoke to herself. The idiot wouldn't shut up during the entire drive, and it was all narration of events that Sora found mediocre at best. "No, after you, good sir. This is a four-way stop and you stopped first so after you."

    Sora was more than ready to eat a fuck ton of bread once they got back to the apartment, but before he could do that, he became aware that Ray was actually going to cook.

    And low-key... Sora wanted in on that.

    It started with Ray pulling out a pot the size of Chewbacca, which Sora had seen in the pantry and wondered what the hell could be cooked in that aside from a full grown toddler. Sora stood near his bedroom door, a slice of bread in his mouth, and his free arm folded over his stomach as he watched Ray whistle to himself as he filled the pot with water and poured an entire bag of pinto beans into it.

    Sora tipped his head to the side as Ray then poured a bag of pinto beans into a bowl of water. When Ray glanced back at Sora's room, though, Sora had disappeared behind his bedroom door.

    Sora gathered his books for class and took them with him to the living room. By then, Ray had all of the spices he had just bought out on the counter and could now be found peeling the protective covers off of each and every one of them whilst singing Don't Go Breaking My Heart under his breath, fully thinking Sora was still in his bedroom.

    Sora sat at the kotatsu with his back to the windows so the overcast could illuminate the pages of his text book. He propped it silently up on the table, his legs crossed beneath the comforter. He glanced up to where Ray was now dumping a smattering of spices into the pot.

    Ray took out the packaged meat from the fridge along with a cutting board from the cabinet next to the microwave. Sora grimaced a little. He hated the texture of raw meat and therefore never considered cooking with it, which meant that he didn't generally eat it. But there Ray was, slapping it onto the cutting board like it was no big deal.

    The previous semester, Sora had a dining hall pass, and before that, he had a professional chef to cook for him at the Ikeda estate. And now, on his own, he couldn't even make boxed mac 'n' cheese on his own without second guessing every move.

    It was fascinating to see someone his age cook like he'd been making his own meals since he was three.

    Ray knew just how to cut the meat, how to season it, and how to treat the pan before grilling it. Soon, the aroma spread through the apartment and Sora found himself oozing with it, his unsatiated hunger yearning for whatever it was Ray was sizzling on the stove. Sora slumped, breathing it in with closed eyes until the exact moment he sensed Ray looking back at him.

    Sora went back to his textbook in an instant.

    "Do you eat meat?" Ray asked.

    Sora snorted, flipping the page. "Is this a bi joke or...?"

    Ray rolled his eyes and glanced back at Sora, saying, "No, I'm just wondering if you're vegetarian."

    "Then the answer's no, I'm not vegetarian," Sora said, but that didn't mean he went out of his way to eat meat. The same sentiment applied to his love life.

    Sometime in the afternoon, a plate was pushed across the table to where Sora's books were.

    Sora looked up from it and to Ray's cheeky smile. Sora reached hesitantly for the fork and said, "Thank you..."

    "No problem," Ray said, and went back to the stove.

    He put his back to Sora, and while he wasn't looking, Sora speared a bit of chicken. He looked up and froze upon catching Ray glancing at him from over his shoulder. Ray turned away, grinning to himself. Sora popped the food into his mouth and, Jesus Christ on a ten speed bike, that shit was fire.

    Monday came quickly and by morning, Ray's meal prepping was complete and organized within a multitude of stacked containers in the fridge. Sora opened the fridge that morning not expecting there to be a brick wall of containers on the second shelf.

    Ray pranced out of the bathroom, his shower having dampened his hair's gravity-defying tricks. Sora glanced back at him before reaching to the box on his shelf—the first shelf—where Ray had put a sticky note on top with Sora's name on it. Ray disappeared into his bedroom to change and when he came back to pack up for the day, Sora was already gone, and as was Sora's share of Ray's food. It was his proudest moment in San Francisco, by far.

    Ray hurried on, grabbing his backpack, jacket, and shoes on the way out. He slipped his sneakers on in the hallway, locked the door, and was on his way to lecture where he found Huey and Leo already chatting in the middle seats of the lecture hall.

    Ray hurried up and down the aisle where he dropped down beside Leo and declared, "We need to go back to Bandaids."

    Leo opened his mouth to argue, but Huey was already saying, "Agreed."

    Leo threw his hands down in frustration. "Both of you—We don't have the time or the money to be going to strip clubs every weekend."

    Ray groaned, slumping dramatically in his seat. He couldn't stop thinking about the dancer he and spent all night staring at. Not only that, but he couldn't stop dreaming about getting a lap dance ever since Sora declared that twenty could get him as much.

    "But we'd be able to interact with the dancers if we went on a night there isn't a concert," Huey explained to Leo, but Leo's wallet wasn't hearing any of it.

    Ray grumbled to himself and thought about everything else that frustrated him, like the fact that Sora had scored a date. Ray wanted a date. He came to San Francisco with the ideal image of a bachelor pad in his head. The very least he could do was score a date.

    Ray threw his head back and groaned. "I just want a boyfriend. Leo—help me," he whined, flopping a hand onto Leo's arm, desperate for contact.

    "You both are such high maintenance," Leo chastised. He gestured wildly and said, "And clearly, the way to get a boyfriend is to get Tinder."

    "Cripes! Why didn't I think of that!" Ray cried, his brain suddenly on fire. He needed to make a Tinder profile immediately. The state of his love life depended on it. It was such an obvious solution, Ray wanted to hit himself for not considering it sooner.

    Huey reached across Leo to start slapping Ray in the leg, saying, "Download the app! Download the app!" to which Ray replied in a frenzy, "I'm doing it! I'm doing it!"

    He weaseled his phone out of his coat pocket and, upon downloading the app, became the center of attention in his small friend group. Huey leant obnoxiously over Leo's lap as Leo propped his head on Ray's shoulder and watched him type in his email to create a new account.

    As they waited for the professor to show up, they populated Ray's dating profile with a prime selection of photos from Seattle Pride, a photo from his old community college—before shit hit the fan, so he looked fine—, and a photo from when he and Aunt Natalia visited San Francisco when touring colleges. They put the Pride photo up first.

    After polishing up his preferences, Ray's profile was ready for the masses. He brimmed with eager energy, toes curling with excitement, and hands jittery like he just consumed an espresso.

    The first profile dropped onto his plate, and Ray thought he might have a heart attack. It constantly blew his mind that there was an app out there that could connect him to people as beautiful as this.

    Ray slapped a hand over his heart and said, "I need to swipe right. I need to."

    "It's your first guy!" Leo cried, alarmed. "There's plenty of fish in this sea, dude."

    "I'm swiping right," Ray whispered, breathless, as he swiped right. He was shot in the heart again when the next person proved to be just as handsome as the last. Ray slid in his seat, fake-swooning.

    Leo turned to Huey. "He's hopeless."

    "He's got game," Huey insisted.

    "He hasn't even matched yet—" Leo said, just as Ray got a notification that he had, in fact, matched with his first pick. As Ray opened up their DMs, Leo murmured, "Well shit."

    Ray tapped in a "Hey" accompanied by a smiley face. He sent it before Leo had a chance to object. Leo put his head in his hands and reiterated the fact that Ray was hopeless.

    Luckily, the guy texted back. Leo popped up. At that same moment, however, the professor walked in, and he could only watch in horror as Ray conducted his first ever Tinder conversation in silence in the middle of the goddamn lecture hall. The entire time, Ray had a cheeky smile on his face because holy shit, someone matched with him!

    They scheduled to meet that following day. When Ray brought this up to Leo and Huey after class, Huey said, "Nice, dude!" while Leo put his forehead to the brick wall and groaned, "That isn't how Tinder works..."

    Ray put his hands on his hips. "Well, it's easier to get to know someone in person! And texting kinda makes me nervous anyway. Face-to-face is my kind of deal."

    "Yeah, that's great and all, but what if this guy's a serial killer?" Leo said. "You'd see the flags in a text conversation."

    Huey hummed. "To be fair: You'd also see them in person."

    "Yeah, when the guy takes a knife to your throat," Leo seethed, jabbing at Huey, who leapt out of the way and directly into Barry.

    "Whoa, hey, what'd I miss?" Barry said.

    Ray jolted when Leo grabbed him forcefully by the shoulders and shook him with emphasis, foaming at the mouth as he cried, "This man right here just scored a date and I don't know how to feel about it—!" He cut off into a scream that reverberated down the hallway and startled a few very alarmed students leaving the lecture hall—including... Sora Ikeda.

    They all froze.

    Sora rubbed at his ear and kept walking without making eye contact. Leo's entire face became the color of a fire hydrant, his hands still clinging to Ray to keep him from fainting out of pure humiliation.

    Ray felt as though he might throw up. Emphasis on might.

    When Sora left the building, Leo put his head to Ray's shoulders and whispered, "Kill me now, I beg you."

    "I gotta admit—that was pret-ty hilarious," Barry said, which earned him a punch from Huey, who said, "Tone it down, dude. Our buddy is suffering here."

    Barry put his hands up in surrender. Leo fake-sobbed into Ray's arms and Ray gave him a hesitant pat on the back for comfort's sake.

    The instant Sora left the building, he let out a breath of relief. So far, it seemed, no one had detected the truth behind his association with de Lucía, but that was difficult when de Lucía had essentially befriend the three friendliest people in the class. Everyone knew Leo, Huey, and the track star Barry and, by association, they now knew de Lucía. Sora didn't need that spotlight on him when he already had one on stage.

    However, because Ray was now effectively integrated into their major, it meant that Sora heard his name every now and then in the second semester courses that Ray had yet to be enrolled in.

    Sora glanced back at the door with a scoff and thought, Sounds like that nerd has a date. Everything that had to do with dating had Sora's brain navigating back towards fashion. He wondered what outfit Ray would decide to wear for his date.

    Or if he'd ask Sora for help deciding.

    Sora shook the thought from his head and passed a hand through his hair. He glanced down the road where, at the bus stop, that blonde journalist bitch was staring at him. She tensed, eyes wide, and offered a meager wave when she realized that Sora was, in fact, watching her.

    Everyone seems to think I've got a significant other after she spread that picture around, Sora thought. He was grateful Charlie had the fashion sense of Marceline the Vampire Queen—a perfect disguise, but still, he couldn't risk people following him to Charlie's car on a day Charlie decided not to dress like a celebrity in public.

    He started towards Alice. She blushed as he approached, and it took only a few seconds for the red in her ears to flush through her entire face.

    "S-Sora, hey," she said.

    He considered asking her to delete the photo, but the damage was already done. Asking her to stop following him just suggested that he had an end destination he didn't want her to know. Fuck, there weren't many options that didn't seem suspicious or tantalizing to a journalist like her.

    "Are... you waiting for the bus too?" she asked, and Sora realized that he had been standing in silence for a second too long.

    Sora licked his lips and looked away. "No. I just wanted to ask you to stop taking pictures of me without my consent," he said.

    She barely missed a beat. Barely. "They're just photos."

    They were just photos, but it wasn't like Sora could suddenly make the argument that he made money off of his body, and pictures counted in that.

    "Yeah, well, I just don't like thinking about people getting off to them," he said. He would give an arm and a leg to not be so awkward outside of the club, but there he was, grimacing in disgust like a prude.

    Alice blinked, stammered, and floundered for a proper response. She scratched at the back of her head, cheeks still bright pink. "I see you think... pretty highly of yourself."

    "You must too, if you're taking pictures of me."

    "Th-Those weren't for me!" she cried, waving a hand quickly. Sora rose an eyebrow. Her hands slumped to her sides. "You know how it is, being a creator and all. I write about what people want to read. If I didn't do that, I wouldn't have a readership."

    "Then I would politely like to ask you to stop depending on me for your readership," he said.

    Alice swallowed hard. Speechless, she nodded, and Sora let out a sigh of relief. He muttered his thanks, and it came out gruff and sarcastic as he walked off in the direction of his bus stop several blocks down. It was Monday and he wasn't on the schedule to clean the club, so it was a precious night off for him to relax at the apartment. And, as it turned out, the stages were filled the following day so Tuesday was another Bandaid-free night.

    Before that could be set in stone, however, Sora's phone rang as he waited for his bus. He pulled it from his coat pocket, shuddering against the Pacific wind, and squinted at Charlie's name on the screen.

    He answered it.

    "Hey—"

    "An early slot opened up tomorrow night."

    Sora rolled his eyes. "Is this your passive-aggressive way of saying you're bailing tomorrow night."

    "Of course not. When have I ever done that."

    Sora laughed. "Right now, for example." He leant over, peering around the block. Alice was still waiting at the other stop a block down, and it relieved him that she managed to listen to him. "But yeah, I'm in. I need the cash, anyway."

    "Perfect. I'll let Satan know," he said, and hung up.

    Even though Tuesday was no longer a night off, today was. Because of this, when Ray returned home, Sora was already locked away in his room catching up on sleep. Ray padded slightly through the fading light in the living room and, in his own room, was reminded of how pleased he was that he had a place of his own.

    Despite having a roommate, Ray felt pride swell in his chest. He was a step closer to being an adult. He felt more accomplished than he had in years, and as he melted into the covers on the mattress he bought, he fell asleep with a smile on his face and his phone in hand.

    The content on his phone remained on the tip of Ray's brain from that moment and on through the morning. He woke up grinning like an idiot and all but pranced across the apartment to the bathroom where he twirled inside and shut the door.

    It was hard to miss Ray's makeshift ballet display, especially when Sora was sitting right there at the kitchen table. After catching wind of the muffled sound of the shower head, Sora picked up the telltale sound of Ray singing in Spanish to himself behind the closed bathroom door.

    Weird, Sora thought, pulling a foot up onto the chair. He hugged his arm around it and went back to finishing off his abysmal breakfast.

    When Ray finished up in the bathroom, Sora was busy cleaning dishes in the kitchen. He glanced over his shoulder and startled at the sight of Ray in nothing but a towel.

    Ray let out a high-pitched shriek. "Don't look! Don'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlook!" he cried, and Sora would laugh if Ray wasn't so mortified. He put his blinders on (his hand) and turned back to the sink. Shortly after shutting himself up in his room, Ray emerged again saying, "Okay, now you can look."

    "I swear to God, if you're naked now—"

    "This isn't a rated R film, Sora! I need help deciding if this is... a good outfit."

    Internally, Sora gave himself a highfive for predicting this moment nearly twenty-four hours in advance. He reached for the dish towel and dried his hands as he tipped back against the countertop and checked out Ray's outfit for the day.

    Ray was stiff and awkward and blushing up on the platform that separated their bedrooms from the living space. He was wearing a pair of grey, plaid slacks with one of his old black graphic rock tees tucked into the waistband. He tucked his hands behind him, fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for the consensus.

    "Yeah, that works," Sora said, and Ray let out a sigh of relief. Before he could convince himself to prompt Ray into mentioning the date, Ray was already bringing it up as a cheeky smile donned his lips and he twirled down the steps.

    Ray skipped to the refrigerator and, grasping the door handle, sort of swooned against it. "The reason I ask is... because... I sort of have a date tonight?"

    Sora took a sip of his coffee and said, "Oh."

    "Yeah..." Ray sighed, dreamily. He fetched a container from his meal prep stash and shut the refrigerator door. He leant against it as he said, "He's really cute."

    Sora looked away and raised an eyebrow. "Oh really."

    "I met him on Tinder—here, I'll show you his profile," Ray said, suddenly eager to show off his date like a trophy. Sora entertained it because he found Ray's attitude hilarious. The guy reeked with Freshmen Energy and he couldn't help but laugh internally about it.

    Ray leant over, holding his phone up, and Sora took his sweet time sliding his eyes over as Ray flipped through several pictures of—

    Sora's heart plummeted. It shot straight through his stomach and out his ass where it melted the kitchen tiles like acid on its way to Hell. He wouldn't survive much longer, not when Ray was throwing him curveballs like this that felt like a sucker punch to the chest.

    "C-Charlie," Sora whispered, and to his dismay, Ray was a lovesick fool.

    "I know. I love the name Charlie..." he sighed, dreamily.

    Sora stared at him in horror, but Ray was too busy fawning over that rat bastard's Tinder profile.