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Chapter Text

The warm bite of smoke filled his lungs, and he felt the same relief the cigarettes always seemed to give him. He closed his eyes and repeated the same mantra he had learned a long while back. Just as warm images of the past started to fill his mind, he shut that shit down and opened his eyes.

Okay

Just another day of this.

And it wasn’t like he was new to this shit. Oh no he had been doing this for a while.

His hands found their way to his shirt from under his jacket to set it right. A smile unintentionally found its way to his face when he remembered watching James Bond with his dad. His dad who had held him in his lap when watching the fight sequence. And his papa who had later told him his type was not “taken”. At the age of 4, Lance hadn’t even known what it meant but it seemed to have stuck a cord with his papa, so he didn’t say it again.

He still pulled the shirt under the jacket though.

He settled in the back of the car as he put his earphones in. He would’ve loved to have his noise cancelling headphones, but he was under strict instruction from his stylist to quote “not fuck with his hair”. As if. He knew better than to do it though.

Instrumental music filled his head and that helped too. It was all about finding what helped. He tuned into the music as the variety of noises and vibrations from all around him made a play in his head. The vibration of the car from his hand on the door of the car and his own breathing mixed in with the subtle hum of the city and the music. He needed the calm to make do for what he was about to do.

What had his publicist said?

Just breathe and be yourself.

Right, because they apparently liked that he was a cunt.

“We are near the location sir, five minutes now.”

“Thanks”

He was used to being driven around. And just as he remembered the warmth of the face that loved to drive, he knew he had to get out of the car. Right on time he shoved the plugs outside his ear and the door opened.

“Good evening, sir, this is Gwen, welcome to the premier. I am going to be coordinating your walk from here on now.”

Lance just nodded in the direction of the voice and set about fiddling with his buttons of his jacket. He didn’t like it when people m tried to touch him trying to help him. He was fine thank you very much. He had been doing this for a while.

He smiled towards the camera where he could hear the shutters going off. He just had to stand like he wasn’t bothered. He put his hands in his pockets because fuck what his public told him or the weeklong course he had to take on how to stand.

Emma to her credit was the peak of professionalism. She guided him on where to stand without having her voice be filled with pity. They were both just doing their job and he had no intention of making it harder on her than he needed to. Gwen was all he had at these events.

The camera people keep trying to get his attention and he turned with his signature smirk. Even though it was too over stimulating. Even though he had pulled at the shirt under the jacket and it didn’t seem to sit right. Even though he could only hear his own heart trying to beat out of his chest. He was a star actor for a reason.

And just like that he was led to his seat, and he could relax a little. People came to his seat to congratulate him, and he tried smiling and being courteous to the people. They really needed to remember to introduce themselves first because who the fuck remembers everyone but expects him to.

At last, the movie started, and he was allowed to be not have a tight grip on his face and hands. He knew what the movie was. He was the lead actor on it. And his agent; thank fuck for Uncle Jackson was a beast. So, he had already seen it with Uncle Jackson describing what happened on the screen. He hadn’t realised then, but Uncle Jackson had also passed the comments he made to the director for consideration. What did he say? Beast like that. He should probably tell that to him. He would, if he wasn’t so close to.

Lance was used to relying on his ears more than anything else anyway. He tried to focus on the sounds of the movie but also the sound of the hall full of people. For a movie that he was the star of. The hush that followed when Lorenzo comes on the screen. The gasps when he talked back to the teacher. The winces when he gets punched in his face. The pity and pity and pity.

It was still weird to hear his own voice coming out of the speakers. Lance still sometimes likes to pretend it wasn’t his. That it was just a good story. A good story that he wasn’t a part of. Just sitting on the side line listening.

Sometimes he wished that he could do that to his own life too.

And just like that the film comes to an end. The applause catches him off guard. He knows it’s a good story that so many people have poured so much love into. He feels the warmth of the light on his skin, and he knows its his cue to stand.

Gwen is next to him and describing to him where to walk to and which stair not to trip on. Only Jennifer Lawrence can pull of that.

He is with the director and his co actors on the stage.

He gets to take a bow and listen to everyone tell how much fun they had putting this movie together. He finds his own rehearsed lines come forward on cue. He smiles on cue and politely ducks his head on cue.

Everything he did was on cue.

People start to finally filter out of the hall and he knew he was supposed to stay back and mingle. Some had handed him a flute of champagne, and he held it like the lifeline it was. People came and talked to him. He had pictures taken.

He felt his phone vibrate and he politely tried to excuse himself from whoever he was speaking to. Gwen was behind him.

“Gwen”

“Yes sir?”

“I need to take this call.”

“Right this way sir”

He picked up the call. The voice of his brother filtered through.

“Heyy, how was the premier.” Arthur asked in his soft voice as though afraid to ask.

“Still here.”

“Isn’t it like 3 am now? Lance, you need to sleep, you can’t keep doing this.” Arthur had talked about this before, they had done this song and dance many times before.

“Yeah yeah, I am heading home soon.” He said with his face looking down and shuffling his feet. He never knew what to do with all the love and concern his family seemed to have for him. Best to change the topic.

“But the actual movie went well. People seemed to like it enough, but we can only know when people not paid to watch it watch it.”

“You know its going to be amazing and everyone will love it.” Arthur said with the exasperation and adoration only his brother was capable of. Even though Lance was right.

“Yeah, let’s see.” He paused.

“Are you going to watch the movie?” His voice seemed to have grown quieter. He knew how Arthur struggled with all that came with Lance being who he was.

“Of course, you silly goose. I already have my tickets. Harry is coming with me on Sunday. I am really excited. I have an outfit planned and everything”

The image brought a smile to his face. Arthur was meant to be dressing up for things he liked doing. He should be dressing in whatever he wanted for whatever he wanted.

What had the media called him?

Prince of darkness

He wasn’t a prince. Arthur was the prince between them.

“Tell me what you think of it?”

“I will” Arthur said softly. Like the man he inherited his voice from.

And just as Lance was going to tell the boy bye, Arthur piped up.

“You know I am really proud of you right? It is really amazing all that you are doing on your own in New York. I am really proud of you”

Well fuck the asshole for making his throat tight.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks AJ” He pushed out.

“You should go to work now.” It was after all close to 9 in the day for him.

“I am on the way; I will give Genevieve and Oscar your love. Kiss kiss”

Geneviene and Oscar were obviously the rabbit and guinea pig that had come in the shelter. Arthur had sent him their pictures a few days ago.

“And for the love of Beyonce, go to bed soon.” Arthur said in lieu of a bye.

Lance chucked as he put his phone down. He looked over his shoulder and called out for Gwen.

And she was there like always.

“Let’s go home, shall we?”

He said his goodnights and declined invitations to stay longer or one request to be in his room for the night and when he felt Gwen and him settle in the car back home, the anxiety he had carried all evening bled out of him.

Gwen held his hand. Lance always needed someone to hold him in such moments. Gwen was the only one who he trusted.

“Hey, you wanna grab a milkshake before going back to the hotel?” He could shed his vail of professionalism and just be her friend now.

“I could do with a milkshake.” She squeezed his hand and told the driver the change of plans.

She let go of his hand when he removed his jacket and opened the top buttons that were threating to choke him away. He put on the hoodie he had put in the car before the premier. He didn’t have to run his fingers on it to know the rolling stones logo on top of it. The grey colour was as close of a colour he needed for his personal wardrobe thank you very much. He remembered a time when the hoodie used to be big on him. It was a bit snug now. Snug but comfortable. He put his hat on and felt the car stop.

He waited for Gwen to come to his side to open his door. He avoided holding Gwen’s hand in public because he didn’t need her life ruined by his life, but it was comforting being able to hold it to guide him when a million people weren’t looking at him.

He got settled in the booth. It seemed like Gwen had found a diner.

Nice.

“Hello, my name is Theia and what can I get for you today?”

Lance had been grown up around beautiful voices. He had just come from a premier with the voices of from what he had heard beautiful women, but the warmth of the voice that asked that question made him look up.

Chapter Text

The thing was Lance didn’t know why he picked a profession that meant he was always in a place he had never been before when he needed familiarity to get around. He liked being able to go places on his own even though his definition of going places on his own had meant being chauffeured around. He always had to rely on people around him to be so he didn’t know why he ended up in a profession that meant he would always be in places where he couldn’t have people he relied on. He was grateful for Gwen but even she was going to eventually want to move on with her life.

He didn’t know what lucky stars he had prayed on to have Gwen in his life, but she was a constant in his life. They had grown up together. And now that Lance was trying this whole actor thing out, she had decided to keep following him around. He knew he relied on her and he knew he was in New York because dad trusted her too.

He really needed her to tell him about the beautiful voice who was talking to him right now though.

He hadn’t heard the voice place anything on the table as he had settled and neither had Gwen slid anything away from him so it the menu was the walls somewhere.
Noted.

He looked at the rough direction the voice was coming from heard a quiet gasp.

Sometimes the French genetics pulled through, thank fuck

“What would you recommend?” He sounded like a normal person trying to interact with another person without having to be paid for it, see he was capable of it. Never mind that he wanted to know what did the pretty voice find attractive? Should he be smirking? Should he be smiling! Someone needed to give him the script because God he didn’t want to be a cunt right now.

“Umm so it kinda depends on what you usually like. We are a pretty standard American diner so you can get some pancakes, waffles, toast etc. We have coffee as well.”

“Oh, breakfast for dinner kinda thing then?” Dad probably would love something like this. He wondered if his dad used to visit places like this when he was his age. Probably not so late though. The man has always woken up at ass crack of dawn.

“Considering its almost 4, I’d say it’s basically breakfast now”

“How early do you get up for that to be your breakfast?”

She had a breathy chuckle. Was she indulging hm as a customer? Was he funny? Wait funny wasn’t his strength. Fuck he couldn’t be a cunt though.

“We would like a milkshake please, vanilla.” Gwen pipped up.

He turned to Gwen’s voice instinctively. He knew Gwen only really intervened when she thought he wanted the other person gone, which to be fair to her was almost always.

Was his I want the person to keep talking to me forever face and I want this person gone face the same???

Dammit Gwen

Just as he heard the pretty voice scrawl that on what sounded like a notepad, he asked

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name”

Because she hasn’t given them her name. Right? If his hearing was also going to go then he might as well give up in life now.

“Oh, sorry its Theia. I will have the milkshake brought in shortly. “And after she hesitated for half a second “One straw or two?”

“Two please.” He rushed out before Gwen answered.

“Okay, coming right up.” She moved away quite quickly after that.

There was silence at the table because when you grow up with someone and spend most of the whole day with them, you don’t actually have much to talk about.

But this wasn’t it and he needed to know more about the pretty voice.

He put his elbows on the table, fuck Albert and leaned close to Gwen. He knew she had also leaned in.

“What does she look like”

Look he was blind, not stupid.

Gwen chuckled lightly. It was different than the chuckle he had drawn from Theia. It was familiar and irritating as fuck now because come on Gwen.

“She is tall almost 170 cm. Dark curly hair and brown eyes.”

“Pretty?”

“Extremely”

“Vibe?”

“Struggling to decide so quickly.” Gwen said a little exasperated which you know fair.

Lance stayed quiet for a bit, and the silence was a little more comfortable now. The thing about Gwen was she let him stew in his own thoughts rather than draw thoughts out of him. Lance tried to not think about the reason that was so because he was grateful for it in moments like this.

“Do you want me to find out more about her?” Gwen asked quietly.

He could lie. He could be invasive. He could be the cunt he thinks he is. But something stopped him. What would anything like that get him anyway?

“Nah, all good”

His hands were on the table and Gwen squeezed his hand before he slowly drew them back in his lap. He was just here to have a milkshake for old times sake.

Something cold was pushed towards him and he could lie, and the soundlessness of her arrival startled him. Was Theia a cat? Having grown up with Arthur you would think he would be used to soundless people moving about but strangely no.

“Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you” He hasn’t looked up this time.

“Are you from around here by any chance? You sound quite ….distinctive.”

The question brought a smirk to his face. He had taken dialect coaches to train the French out of his voice He could sound like whatever she wanted him to sounds like.

“What makes you say that?” He sounded more American now.

“Oh um, you just don’t look like from around here.” Good save Theia.

“My dad is from here, but I was raised in France.”

Did he just talk about his family? What was this woman doing to him? This needed to be aborted now.

“Oh that’s amazing, what’re you doing in our neck of the woods then?”

“Visiting family.”

It was technically true. He was visiting his grandparents tomorrow, actually today in a few hours.

His hands were itching to do something, hold something. He didn’t have his stress ball because of the premier. He couldn’t very well pull his cigarettes out, He just flexed them and held them out in front of him. No need to fidget in front of the pretty girl.

“Are you from around here?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Yeah, I am studying at Columbia.”

Smart and pretty?

And what was he? Just a movie actor, who didn’t even go to university. He tried not to think of the applications he had filled in.

“That’s really amazing.” In an alternate universe, he would ask her what she studied. In an alternate universe he would ask for her number and text her and ask her out. In another universe he would make the pretty girl happy but when had life been nice to Lance like that? He didn’t need more people who saw him when he couldn’t.

He was going to be polite for once and let her get back.

He felt the cold glass against his hand and slowly traced the glass to get the feel of it.

It felt like a vintagey milkshake glass.

The kind that papa would’ve probably shared with dad when they were being disgustingly in love.

He put the straw between his fingers and took a sip.

He looked straight ahead and let the milkshake flood his mouth.

Gwen said thank you to Theia and he and she both knew it was a dismissal as much as a curtsey.

The milkshake was okay but not as good as papa made. But most things weren’t.

He passed the milkshake to Gwen.

“Number?”

She took a second letting herself taste the milkshake. He loved that she always seemed to take a minute to consider before saying anything.

“6.9”

“Not bad for a diner. Next time we can try another flavour”

“You wanna come back for another, sir?” How he wishes Gwen would stop calling him sir. But it was so much better than master.

He just shrugged because he was a glutton for punishment as well.

“If we are the area, why not?”

She just hummed as though agreeing.

“Number for you?” she asked back.

“7.3, they used big ice cubes that have crushed weirdly.”

He imagined Gwen probably rolled her eyes or shaked her head. That’s what people did in books. As much as he knew about Gwen, he was never going to know what she looked like when he did something stupid, when he said something she liked. He was never going to know what papa looked like when he cried or when dad looked defeated either. Small mercies he supposed.

He needed to get out of here now.

“Could you settle the bill, and can we leave now?”

He felt Gwen get up. He knew they could’ve waited for Theia to bring the bill out but he didn’t want to put himself thought that. His chest starting to get heavy again. He needed to leave. Like now.

He waited for Gwen to be back, and they got settled in the car back.

Tomorrow he could go back to Gwen driving him around than the driver that was mandatory for the event.

Just as the thought settled him, he felt Gwen press something in his hand. It felt like a piece of paper. He turned to his side in confusion.

“The girl wanted you to have it. It has her number on it.”

Oh.

Chapter Text

Lance dreamed in colour. He always knew when he was dreaming because his dreams had the sheen of everything to them. He knew he was dreaming right now because he could feel his papa’s hands. He was looking at himself.

He could feel the brush running through his hair. He could smell the vanilla when his hands moved.

Memories morphed together till they became lucid. Arthur sitting in the chair and papa spending time untangling and styling Arthurs curly hair. How he had giggled when daddy had made him wash his hair in the sink. Touching daddy’s braids. Letting the texture run through his fingers, wanting to know why papa held them with that face, that face when he made when he say daddy, in love face, reverence, touching his hair, wanting to have long hair like daddy, wanting papa to love him like that too, sitting in front of a mirror, the light being turned off in his room after he was given his stories and song, darkness, daddy,

Daddy? He wanted to see Daddy

Daddy? Daddy?

He was trying to call out, he knew he was screaming, he could feel it on his vocal cord, he had felt that when papa had let him touch it when he spoke, he wanted to know what it felt like.

He was screaming

And something was shaking him away

“Breathe for me Lance”

Where was he? Panic gripped his heart, and he tried to know where he was.

Someone was holding a hand over his heart. Someone was touching him, something wet was on his face.

“Breathe with me Lance, come on baby, deep breathe in.”

He forced the air in.

He didn’t know what to do, someone was touching him. The air was too much in his lungs.

“Breathe out”

He let the air out. He felt hollow. Something was touching his shoulder now. Something was holding him up. Where was he?

“One more baby”

His lungs complied. His mind was everywhere.

Too much. His chest was too tight.

“Breathe out”

Another breath in and out.

His heart calmed down.

The hands kept holding him. The hands kept him grounded. They never moved from his heart or his shoulder.

He shuddered a last one out.

He was at his grandparents’ house.

What had he learned?

Name the facts.

His name was Lance Lightwood-Bane. He has a brother. He is in New York. He lived in France. He is at his grandparents right now.

His grandparents who just witnessed his breakdown.

Nightmare.

Whatever it was.

His grandparents who were probably just trying to have a normal Sunday.

He was really a nuisance everywhere he went wasn’t he.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I am okay now.” He needed to apologise; they needed to get out of his room. They can’t tell this to their son. They couldn’t tell this to papa. He can’t keep doing this to Arthur.

He was on the verge of another panic attack, when the hand on his shoulder squeezed.

It made him look up.

“Did you have a bad dream buddy?” his grand père asked.

He wanted to cry.

It wasn’t a bad dream, was it?

It was him that was the problem. He knew how adults acted when he said stuff like this though.

“Yeah, sorry”

Gentle hands wiped the tears on his face.

Sandalwood.

Not Vanilla.

But familiar.

“Its okay, we all have bad dreams sometimes.” Said his poppy in his usual calm voice.

It was something about his voice that made it easier to breathe a little.

He shook his head as though agreeing with it.

“Do you have them often?” Poppy asked.

“Nah, its just new place so I probably just got overstimulated.”

He was a liar. Because the best lies were halfway truths.

He was also an actor so if he could remember that now it would be great.

Such an attention whore sometimes.

A cliché.

“Would you like a hug? Or maybe a hot chocolate?” Poppy asked.

He wanted someone to sleep next to him to keep the dreams away, he wanted someone to brush his hair till he slipped into dreamless rest, he wanted to be held so tight the tightness in his chest would be okay for a minute. He couldn’t ask for all that could he?

“What about a cigarette instead?”

“You are not getting a cigarette” grand père said in incredulous tone.

“Do your parents know you smoke young man?” Poppy exclaimed loudly.

Poppy was no longer touching him. Grand père’s hand was still on his shoulder.

What were they going to do anyway? Tell his dad?

“Do you have any idea how bad they are for your lungs Lance? I am going to make you sit through a presentation of that tonight. This is not acceptable behaviour.” Poppy was on a role.

He felt a little shitty for scaring the man.

Not shitty enough to go back to the topic of his dreams.

“I was just kidding.” He whined. A yawn escaped him.

“What time is it anyway?” Lance wiped his face across his face. He sounded tired. His hands had started to search for his phone. Everyone needed to move on from this.

“It’s almost 4 pm.” Grand Pere replied. His stomach grumbled as though on cue.

4 pm meant he slept for like 5 hours. Not bad for sleeping in the day. Or sleeping at all.

What was the last time he had eaten.

This living on your own sucks. How was he supposed to keep a track of when he had last eaten AND what he wanted to eat next? How was everyone doing this?

He tried to wipe the sleep off his face.

“Darling why don’t you come outside and we can eat something.” Poppy asked.

He had eaten what Poppy cooked. He knew he didn’t want that experience, thank you very much.

“Can we order a pizza?” Lance asked.

Till he remembered what he was supposed to eat. He wasn’t allowed carbs, which after living in France felt like a hate crime. What was he supposed to eat if not potatoes or butter?

It was a rock or a hard place. He could work off the extra carbs tomorrow.

“No need for that, I have made a bake just for you.” Poppy pulled his cheek and replied.

“And I am sure Lance would never want to waste the food you make, right Lance?” He knew when he didn’t have a choice. This is where dad got his nauseating behaviour from btw. This was very much his inherited trait.

He didn’t want to offend the men obviously. At least like this he wouldn’t be breaking his diet? No way he was going to have a lot of whatever Poppy cooked up.

“Of course, not” His voice sugary sweet replied. He made sure to smile the fakest smile known to anyone.

“Great, why don’t you meet us outside and I will set it up. It is magnesium rich. Good for you.” Poppy said while getting up.

Both men finally shuffled out of his room, well dad’s room. He hadn’t spent much time exploring the room, hadn’t had the time.

When the door swished close, he laid back down on his back.

He wanted to scream and he wanted to cry.

He wished he knew why.

He needed his phone. He had messages from papa that he couldn’t get into now. He had already talked to dad in the morning. His publicist had dropped a few voice calls. He wasn’t going to check his messages on his day off, but he did make a mental note to respond to him tomorrow first thing. Gwen had reached out to check on him as well. Considering it was her day off as well, she should have been out living her life, not worrying about him.
He opened his pictures app and found his way to the videos folder. He played the video.

The sound of laughter played from his phone. Of his dad and him from when they were kids. It was a beach day.

He switched the phone off.

He needed to get out there and face the music.

He hadn’t properly talked to his grandparents in the morning when he had come in because apparently Poppy was not going to wake up before 10 am on Sunday and grand père had just returned from his morning run and found him lounging in their living room half asleep after which he was sent to dad’s room to sleep it off.

He took a deep breath and got up from the bed to face his fate and whatever his Poppy had invented now.

Chapter Text

“Baby what is this?” Grand père asked in a tone that seemed to signify a great deal of restraint on his part. A faint smell was in the air. Something a bit.. peppery? If Lance had to guess.

“Gravy” Poppy replied like it was the most obvious thing in whole world.

“With a bake?” Grand Pere really was trying his best wasn’t he. He didn’t sound judgemental just really trying to make sense of what he was looking at.

“It goes well with thanksgiving food” so Poppy di know what grand père was asking.

It made Lance wondered what did they have on Thanksgiving? He himself didn’t really celebrate it much growing up but he couldn’t imagine it being very fun with his father’s father and Arthur being vegan.

“Baby a bake is not thanksgiving food.”

“I know that Alexander, but we had cauliflower at last thanksgiving” Lance could imagine the man standing with his hands on his hips.

“We had cauliflower steak baby” Grand Pere replied. Is that what married people talked about? The whole time? Why was everyone so into the idea of marriage?

“Which was baked” Poppy relied as though he had just won the discussion. Wasn’t grand père supposed to be a lawyer? But what lawyer was discussing this?

“Which was baked you’re right” His voice was lower and more muffled. They were probably kissing or hugging or something.

“So, are we having that again today? I thought the kids didn’t have that bake or steak even at thanksgiving.” Ah they had thanksgiving with his uncle and his family.
That makes sense. That’s what families did together right?

“Which is why they need to be fed these more often” They were still discussing this. Why did grand père let Poppy cook so often. He hadn’t heard the best things from the casual mentions by daddy.

“Cauliflower?” Yeah, grand père wasn’t great at this waiting for Poppy to realise how stupid his dish or argument was.

“Culinary delicacies” A snicker got out before he could stop. Poppy did sound really endearing when he talked like this though.

“I would have your culinary delicacies every day” And this was his cue to get in the room. He really could not stomach whatever Poppy had made on top of them making out.

He didn’t know how grand père had been keeping alive if he had been eating what poppy had been eating for as long as it looked like it.

It was kind of insane how long they had been together.

But it was such a normal kitchen that he was walking in. Maybe that is just how every happy couples sounded together.

“Lance over here” Poppy probably saw his first because he called out to him. It was nice to hear someone be so excited to have him there.

They were sitting in the kitchen. His stick hit the edge of the door. His feet caught on the bump the kitchen had.

He got caught on it as always.

Fuck this honestly.

“Careful” Both of them shouted at the same time frantically as he stumbled.

A hand caught him by his shoulder.

He immediately hated it. He hated how he was touched to right himself. He hated needing and needing to exist in the world.

He shrugged it off instinctively and then immediately felt bad. They were just trying to help. Asshole.

“So, what’s for dinner?” He tried to sound as casual as possible as he tried to feel for the table. His hands touched what felt like a chair. He pulled it out.

“Cauliflower and spinach bake with gravy”

His phone buzzed in his pocket again. He just let it be.

“Sounds great Poppy, shame I won’t be able to eat a lot of it because of my next role.” The perks of his career choice did surprise him sometimes.

“It’s gluten free Lance” Poppy sounded so sad. Maybe he got it why Pere had been having his good all these years.

“Yeah, I am not allowed a lot of carbs right now is all.” Which was true. Had he mentioned how much it sucked to not be able to have potatoes? Which had been his primary food for most of his life.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before Lance, maybe I can make you something quickly.” Poppy sounded a little frustrated and more frantic.

“No, no I am not that hungry anyway”. His stomach really needed to get on his level because what is with all the growling that it was getting on.

“You sure buddy? Because your stomach might disagree” Grand Pere replied.

“Yeah, I don’t eat much anyway.”

Which was a blatant lie but what did they know? Of all the luxuries he grew up with, he had at least 3 dishes at every meal, something about Albert being an asshole and papa liking to cook, he had enough choices always.

“You can have a little”

He heard someone on his left get up and pick something off the table. The He felt for the cutlery on the side, Poppy had put a napkin under it. Nice.

He set the napkin on his lap and tried to have a go ahead.

“So, Lance, how long are you planning to be in New York?” Poppy asked like he was already planning something.

“I actually don’t know yet. But it will be good for my career anyway.” He gave the same answer that he had been giving everyone.

His phone buzzed again on the table. He really needed to check who wanted to get a hold of him so bad. After the meal.

They didn’t know he was planning to be here for a while. There was nothing back in France for him.

“Maybe we can hold a weekly movie thing with Rafaels kids then” Poppy said in a tone that betrayed that it definitely wasn’t a random thought he had just had.

He didn’t know much about his cousins, and he really didn’t need to know them. He was at his grandparent’s house also only because they had asked. He had no intention to make it a regular thing.

A hiss came from his left. So, they were supposed to ease him into this conversation. The action made him smile a little. Poppy really was bad at easing into conversations.

“I don’t know how free they would be considering their college schedule” This whole thing needed to be shut down before this idea actually took home in Poppy’s mind.

He ignored the usual flutter in his heart when he thought about his cousins attending cousins. Like everyone did after high school got over.

“We can reach out for you.” Poppy was cut off with Lance’s phone ringing again. Maybe he needed to take the call and see what was up honestly.

“I actually don’t know my schedule as well” He replied which was also true.

“Do you have anything lined up now?” Grand père asked.

“No not yet, I was just settling in right now, but I did have a few auditions recently.” He replied trying to be as vague as possible. No need to give the old man ammo.
“Oh, all this glitz reminds of when I was a model in university” Poppy said sounding nostalgic.

Did Arthur and Poppy look the same with their doppy eyes when they talked? Did Arthur inherit this?

What had Lance inherited?

No that’s stupid, they didn’t share the same blood.

“What? When were you a model?” Grand Pere sounded scandalised. It was a little funny.

“I was just helping Rafael out for his art class” He imagined Poppy just waved his hand like he was dismissing the whole thing. Like everyone modelled in their life. Such a cutie pie honestly.

“You were a model in an art class, and you never thought to mention this before” It wasn’t a question. Grand père asked in a stunned incredulous tone.

The phone kept vibrating.

“Yes, for anatomy study”

“Magnus, were you naked in front of a bunch of students.” He really forgot how gay Grand Pere was sometimes.

“I was semi naked in front of a bunch of students.” Poppy continued like their grandson wasn’t on the table with them. The man really was something else.

“How naked” They really needed to remember their grand son was on the table with them.

Lance cleared his throat to remind them.

“Alexander it was a long time ago”

“Yeah sure” Grand père scoffed like the idea of his husband for however many years being naked for anyone still made him feel possessive of him. Lance heard his père settle in his chair before leaning ahead again.

“Do you have names of the students” He asked in a conspiratory tone.

Yeah, he needed to get out of here. He didn’t know how many people had seen his poppy semi naked or what his grand père wanted to do to them.

His phone buzzed again. Thank God.

“I’m just going to take this actually guys” He quickly got out of his chair and picked the call without checking already headed towards the door, this time being careful of the damned ledge.

“Lance, my prince of darkness, how are you?” Great, his publicist. Lance rolled his eyes.

“Enjoying my day off till now.” He said in the most monotone voice he could.

He was allowed to be annoyed okay considering his recent schedule.

“Yeah, sorry about that. But I have got an opportunity for you that could be your next big break.” Did all marketing people get taught from the same douchebag? Why were they all always talking like they were trying to sell him something.

“I just had my big break, Jerry.”

“Yes, and you need to build on its success Lance, or do you just want to be another one hit disabled lead?” Okay so it was fear followed by whatever that selling thing was.

At least they were consistent.

And right as much as he hated to admit that Jerry could be right.

“Yeah, what’s the pitch?” Jerry for as much of an asshole he was, was a decent publicist.

“The studio is making a documentary on Richard H Berstein to represent his journey to becoming the first blind justice in the state. Super hardworking guy and given your recent success and disability you would be the guy to play the role.”

Lance logically knew that he was going to be pigeonholed in this industry. He also knew he needed to be grateful.

“I don’t know much about him.” Not that he knew much about many of the blind people in the world. Or the disability icons. Despite being one. Because being disabled while in the public eye made you an advocate by default.

“That’s the best part, you would be able to learn more about being a law student right here in New York before we start shooting. I have some connections in Columbia, and you would be able to sit in a few of the classes as research.”

He would be able to sit in on university classes.

At Columbia.

Didnt Theia say she went to Columbia.

He would be able to attend classes in New York at Columbia where Theia also went.

“Could you send over the script and I'll think about it?” He wasn’t going to sound desperate, okay?

“Great, the audition is this Thursday. Ill send over the script.”

“Thanks.”

He cut the call and took a deep breath.

Universe really did like to play with him, didn’t it?