Hello and Happy Holidays! Would love to see an Alternate POV from Monty or Miller for "though it's always pricking me."
Original fic here!
When Monty heard that Dropship was going to be in town over the summer, he was not expecting that he, personally, would have much interaction with them. Everyone knows why they’re coming back, knows how Aurora Blake is doing (not well) and how much Bellamy cares about his family (a lot). The whole town is abuzz with the news in the way only small towns can be, and people who know that Bellamy was in school with Monty are definitely eager to hear all about him, but Monty knows he’s not going to be at the top of Bellamy’s list of people to see, nor should he be. If not for the band, Monty probably would have largely forgotten Bellamy existed. Bellamy might not have ever known Monty existed. Monty wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.
Still, the whole thing is kind of exciting, in a silly way. Everyone at school who knows where he lives now also knows that he’s going to be in the same geographic location as Dropship, and odds aren’t bad that he’ll run into at least one of them. If it’s Bellamy, he’ll maybe have a conversation, and then he can ride that wave of coolness for at least a week and possibly longer.
It would be a pretty great way to start off senior year, and he sees no reason to set his expectations higher than that. Even that’s pretty optimistic.
Jasper, of course, is more optimistic.
“He’s going to be bored! You know he wants to hang out with us. We’re very lovable.”
“Speak for yourself,” Monroe says, and Monty frowns.
“Sorry, are you saying you’re not lovable? Are you negging yourself?”
She pauses, frowns at her beer. “Yeah, that didn’t really work. I’m just saying, the odds of Bellamy Blake even getting a Facebook invite, let alone responding to one, seem really low. Does he even have his own Facebook? Isn’t it just one of those celebrity profiles?”
“It probably couldn’t hurt,” Wells says, the voice of reason as always. “But if you send it and he doesn’t respond and doesn’t show up, you’ll never know if he saw it and decided not to come or never saw it or saw it and hates you and–”
Jasper holds up his hand. “Okay, okay. I get it. I will not invite Bellamy Blake to our weekly drinks, and none of us will ever be discovered as secret rock geniuses–”
“You definitely wouldn’t be,” Monty puts in.
“Just let the record show that I tried to make us rich and famous, and you guys were like, fuck that.”
“That’s exactly what happened,” says Harper, dry.
“It’s on the record,” Clarke adds. She’s been quiet, but she definitely had a crush on Bellamy back in high school, so she’s probably stressing more than the rest of them. If Monty’s high-school crush had disappeared off the face of the earth and then reemerged as the lead singer of a hit band, he’d also probably feel kind of weird about it. “This is the only bar in town, if they want to drink, this is it.”
Jasper raises his own glass. “Here’s hoping.”
Clarke smiles a small, private smile. “Yeah, here’s hoping.”
*
“Wouldn’t it make more sense if I didn’t come to this?” Nate asks. He’s not actually that opposed to going to the bar–Arcadia is not an exciting place, and anything that breaks up the monotony is good by him–but if he doesn’t put in at least a token protest, they’ll just assume he always wants to be sociable, and he’s got a reputation to maintain. If people start thinking he just enjoys doing things, he’s going to be on the hook to do things all the time.
“Why, because you suddenly don’t like drinking?” Bellamy asks. He’s been doing minute adjustments to his hairstyle for what feels like an hour, and Nate can admit he is curious about that one. Bellamy with an actual crush is new and different.
Or old and different, really. Apparently Bellamy’s been nursing this one for a long time.
“I can drink here, I don’t have to go to your shitty hometown bar.”
“You get to go to his shitty hometown bar,” Raven says. “How do you not see this for the opportunity it is? All of Bellamy’s high-school friends telling m us all the dirt they can remember? You know you want in on that.”
Nate sighs theatrically. “Fine. But if it sucks, I’m taking a taxi back and leaving you assholes.”
“You say that every time we go anywhere,” Bellamy says, finally finishing with his hair. “And you’ve never actually left us.”
“So far. There’s a first time for everything.”
The bar itself is nothing special, larger than their usual hangout in the city but otherwise unremarkable. Standard bar stuff, as far as Nate is concerned. It’s decently busy for a Friday night, but not packed, and it feels a little like a scene in a Western, when the outlaw walks into the saloon and and everyone stops talking and the piano stops playing. He doesn’t think everyone looks at them, but he feels conspicuous even before some scrawny white kid in goggles starts to call Bellamy.
Another kid, Asian and cute with short black hair and a stoner vibe, shuts him up before he gets it out, and Bellamy snorts, shakes his head.
“More friends?” Raven murmurs.
“Monty and Jasper. They’re probably about your speed, Miller.”
“Where’s your girl?”
“She’s not my–” Bellamy protests, but Raven takes over. “Cute blonde at the bar,” she says. “The one pretending not to look at us.”
“Cool.” He gives Bellamy a thump on the shoulder. “Good luck with that.”
The goggles kid–either Jasper or Monty–has calmed down by the time Nate makes it over to his table, and he manages a friendly, pretty normal smile. “Hi! We have a pitcher, want beer?”
The other kid, the cute stoner, adds, “It’s very shitty beer.”
“How old are you guys?” he asks, frowning. “There’s no way you get away with a fake ID in a town this small.”
“Oh ye of little faith,” says the goggles kid. “We’ve been successfully buying illegal booze since high school.”
“We’re twenty-one,” the other one supplies. He seems to be the straight man to his friend’s goofball, a dynamic Nate is used to. He doesn’t know a lot of goofballs, but for a gay guy he makes a pretty great straight man. “Two grades lower than Bellamy in high school. I’m Monty, and this is Jasper.”
“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Nate.”
Jasper frowns. “Everyone always calls you Miller.”
“Yeah, but it’s weird introducing yourself by last name.”
“Fair enough. You want our cheap beer or not?”
“Love some, thanks.” Monty pours and slides him one, and Nate takes a drink, making a face. “You weren’t kidding.”
“Of course we weren’t. Who lies about buying cheap beer?” Monty asks. “It’s Bud Lite, there’s a special for pitchers, and not all of us are famous rock stars. But if you want to get something better for the next round, we won’t say no.”
“How generous of you.” He takes a chug of the beer; the faster he drinks it, the less he has to taste. “So you’re in college, right?”
They are, rising seniors–Jasper at Oberlin and Monty at Cornell, which actually throws him a little. He knows most people don’t go to college with their high school friends, but something about how the two of them are together made him think they were always this joined at the hip.
“We’re planning to go to the same place once we graduate,” Jasper says, so at least there’s that. “Maybe move in together.”
“Jasper is hoping he’s going to have a serious girlfriend by then and he can move in with her instead of me.”
“The power of positive thinking, Monty! If I believe, it will happen. You should try it, you could get a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend!”
The addition comes in a hurried way that makes Nate assume it’s new and still not totally natural, but without any kind of judgement. Monty is newly out as queer and Jasper is still updating his perceptions, but he’s trying. That’s always nice.
And, well, interesting. Monty started off cute and keeps getting cuter.
“I think I’d have to do more than just believe to find a significant other,” Monty says, dry. “I’ve heard that it requires some bare minimum of effort.”
“Yeah, but believing is easy and it can’t hurt to try.” He turns his attention back to Nate, his gaze surprisingly sharp for how drunk he seems. “How’s dating as a celebrity? Weird?”
“I dont date much, but it probably would be weird. It’s always kind of–” He pauses, trying to figure out the right words. “I had a boyfriend when the band got big, and we tried to stay together, but it was just too complicated, you know? He was always kind of worried I was cheating on him when I was out of town.”
“That sucks,” says Monty.
“Were you cheating on him?” Jasper asks, and Monty elbows him. “What, I’m curious! He can tell us, we don’t know his ex.”
“If you cheated on your ex would you want to tell two random strangers in a bar?”
“It sounds better than telling friends or family.”
Nate has to smile. “I didn’t cheat on him. Bellamy’s really paranoid about this stuff, it rubs off. Not that I was ever tempted, but even after we broke up, he got in my head about people I slept with bragging to the Internet or something.”
“So you’re a rock star who doesn’t get laid?” Jasper asks, in the tones of a kid who just learned Santa isn’t real.
“I don’t usually hook up with civilians. Industry people, the ones who are more used to the lifestyle, that’s usually easier.” He shrugs. “I don’t worry they’re just doing it for a story to tell.”
“So you aren’t interested in sleeping with Jasper,” Monty supplies.
Nate snorts into his beer. “I didn’t think I was the uninterested party there.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m interested, but I’d definitely do it just so I could say I fucked a famous person. Honestly, I’d probably be over there trying to flirt with your drummer except that Wells already is and I’d feel like a terrible person.”
“You could go for Bellamy.”
“I don’t ever want to get on Clarke’s bad side. Wells I’d feel guilty, but Clarke would actually destroy my life.”
No wonder Bellamy likes her so much. “So I’m at the bottom of your Dropship hookup chart?” he asks Jasper. “Dude, come on.”
“Just practically speaking. I’m pretty straight, so Raven’s first, and I figure Bellamy and I have history, so–”
Monty snorts. “You barely talked to him in high school. Also I remember you in high school, I don’t think that’s really working in your favor. Jasper didn’t start developing muscle mass until college,” he adds, to Nate.
“This is Jasper with muscle mass?”
For a second, he’s worried he went too far, that the thoughtless quip actually hurt Jasper’s feelings and there will be a “Nathan Miller was super mean to me in a small-town dive bar” post doing the rounds on social media tomorrow, but then they both crack up.
“I’m secretly ripped!”
“You’re secretly less scrawny than you look,” says Monty. “Which is definitely an accomplishment, but less of one.”
“Screw you both,” he says, cheerful. His phone buzzes, and he checks it. “Literally screw you both, I’m leaving.”
“Did that girl text you back?”
“The power of positive thinking!”
“You’re going to miss out on the fancy beer Miller’s buying us,” says Monty.
“You can drink mine and tell me about it later.” He flashes Nate a smile. “Nice to meet you, hope we see you again, sorry not sorry I’m going on a date.”
Nate can’t argue with that. “Fair enough, have fun.”
“Thanks, you too!” He salutes, and then he’s gone, and Nate and Monty look at each other for an awkward second.
Nate breaks it. “So, next round. Is there an expensive beer you like?”
Monty’s face relaxes into a smile. “I think I can come up with something.”
*
I can’t believe you left me ALONE with NATHAN MILLER.
Monty sends the text while Miller–Nate, he can call Nathan Miller Nate–is in the bathroom, about an hour after Jasper leaves. Clarke is still talking to Bellamy and Wells is still talking to Raven, and it makes Monty feel weirdly paired off, even though he wasn’t trying and was definitely not prepared. He didn’t even do shots with Wells to get ready. He’s a little stoned and a little buzzed, but not enough of either and paranoid about getting worse. If he was drunk, he wouldn’t be thinking about it at all, but since he’s not drunk enough yet, he’s self-conscious about getting sloppy. It’s the actual worst.
yes it is amazing how good a friend I am, Jasper texts back. have fun!!!
If Monty had thought it was unlikely he’d see Bellamy, he had been unable to even comprehend seeing Nathan Miller. It was so outside of the realm of possibility that it wasn’t even worth thinking about, beyond unrealistic. If he had seen Miller, he’d thought that was all it would be, just admiring him from afar. He wasn’t supposed to be talking to him, getting a drink with him, hanging out with him like a normal person. Like those pictures of him in a mesh vest from some weird photoshoot last year hadn’t been the final straw that tipped Monty into identifying as bisexual.
The good news is that it’s not going that badly, but that’s bad news, at the same time. If he was an asshole who wasn’t giving Monty the time of day, it would be easy, one of those never-meet-your-heroes moments. Even if he’d just been friendly, it might not have been that bad. He could have been a perfectly nice guy with whom Monty had nothing in common, and they would have spent the evening making slightly stilted conversation before parting ways.
Instead, they’d gotten another round of drinks and Miller had asked if he was into video games and that was it. Monty had hesitantly offered that he was really into Fire Emblem right now, and Miller had apparently been playing it on the tour bus, and from there they branched out into favorite games, first gaming systems, upcoming releases they’re excited about. If Miller was just a guy he’d met here by chance–deeply unrealistic, as Monty is not the kind of person who meets new people at bars–he’d say they were hitting it off. He might be trying to flirt.
But Miller is Nate is Nathan Miller. He’s been profiled in Rolling Stone. He’s not quite a household name–that’s Bellamy, as the band’s front man–but if he said “I had drinks with the bass player for Dropship,” everyone would know what he was talking about, even his coding professor, who brags about not having learned anything about pop culture since 1989. People hear about Dropship just by being alive, and Monty doesn’t care that much about prestige, but this is going to be one hell of a what I did over the summer.
Assuming he tells anyone. Does bragging about getting drinks and talking about video games count as scuzzy? He doesn’t want to be one of those guys who takes advantage, who makes Miller feel like he can’t talk to civilians.
So when he gets back, Monty just asks. “So, can I tell my friends about this?”
“About what, exactly?”
“How Nathan Miller likes video games and drinks pretentious local IPAs.”
He snorts. “I talk about video games in like all my interviews, it’s not exactly a scoop.”
“You know what I mean.” But he raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t, forcing Monty to clarify, “I don’t want to be one of those people who just brags about–talking to you.”
It’s slightly awkward, both because it feels like he’s using “talking” as a euphemism and because he feels like he’s always slightly awkward, especially without Jasper, who tends to give him easy things to play off of. It had worried him, when he went off to college, that he’d never survive on his own, and he’s fine, has made plenty of friends, but then he’ll be back with Jasper and remember how much easier it feels, to be social with him.
Miller doesn’t seem to notice; he just smirks. “Nah, I love when people brag about talking to me. We can take some selfies if you want.”
“So when does it cross the line into bothering you?”
He drums his fingers on the table. “Good question. I think it’s more–just a vibe. It’s not hard to figure out the people who are just sucking up. Most people–even most super fans–are fine. Kind of nervous at first, but they just want to talk. I never mind people saying they met me. Except that it’s fucking surreal.”
Monty has to laugh. “Yeah, I bet.”
“You didn’t really seem that excited,” he observes, casual.
“I never seem like I’m showing that much emotion compared to Jasper. It’s kind of nice. Takes the pressure off.”
“You always get to be the cool one.”
“Or at least the calm one. It is pretty exciting,” he adds. “Meeting a celebrity.”
“You know Bellamy.”
“Not that well, like I said. And it’s not–” He glances towards the bar, Bellamy leaning into Clarke, the two of them in a world of their own, just like the old days. “I didn’t get to vote on his senior superlatives, but I would have said he was most likely to make it in show business. He’s got charisma. So it’s cool, but not much of a surprise.”
Nate nods. “Yeah, I remember when I first met him. I knew he was going to take me places.”
“You’re twenty-three, right?” he asks. “His age?”
“Yeah.”
He shakes his head. “I feel like you’re too young to be famous. I’m still worried about having a real job, and you’ve been making a living for years.”
“We got lucky,” says Nate. “Shit, so fucking lucky. We only had a few months of shitty gigs before someone decided we were the real deal. And it still took time for us to be able to quit our day jobs.”
“So your life is weird.”
“So weird.”
“Is it better or worse being way out here?”
He shrugs. “It’s different. Our profile is a lot higher. In New York, if someone sees me, they’re not sure it’s me. But everyone knows we’re here, everyone knows Bellamy, so there’s no question. But you’re also really paranoid about coming off weirdly, so–”
“So everyone’s like me.”
That makes him think. “Nah, not everyone is as cool as you are.”
The bar’s lighting is low enough that Monty doesn’t think the flush will be obvious. At least his voice is steady. “I didn’t think cool for rock stars involved playing a ton of video games.”
“You play good video games, so yeah. You’re cool.” He considers. “You said you didn’t have a PS4 yet, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You should stop by sometime and play,” he says. “Bellamy’s too bad at video games and Raven’s too good.”
Monty’s jaw doesn’t drop, but it’s close. “You want to play video games with me?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Because you must have better people to play video games with?”
“What’s wrong with you?” He clucks his tongue. “Full disclosure? You’re cute and chill and I want to hang out with you more. You want to tell all your friends that you spent part of your summer vacation playing games and flirting with a guy in a band, I’m cool with that.”
The words come out easily, somehow. It doesn’t even make sense, he’s never smooth, but talking to Miller–to Nate, to this guy, who’s chill and down-to-earth and nice–is natural. They get along. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he says. “So if you ever want me to keep quiet, all you have to do is kiss me.”
Nate laughs. “Yeah? That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“I hope it’s not.”
“I hope so too. So, what are you doing tomorrow?”
Jasper is going to be the worst possible combination of smug and jealous, but he’ll live. He’s flirting with a cute boy who likes video games; it’s awesome. “Nothing so far.”
“Cool. I’ll figure out when my asshole bandmates aren’t around and give you a call.”
“You don’t have my number.”
“Not yet. But we’re not even done with our drinks. I’m not going anywhere yet.”
They have two more rounds and take the same taxi back. Nate gets dropped off first, takes a minute to study Monty’s face, lingering on his lips, before he says, “I’m not kissing you tonight.”
“No?”
“I want you to have a couple stories you can share.” But he does peck him on the cheek. “Night, Monty.”
He texts Jasper immediately. You’re never going to believe what happened.
The response takes a little longer; hopefully his night was good too. I’m the best friend in the entire universe?????
Honestly, Monty replies, smiling in the dark of the backseat, you just might be.
*
“So, it sounds like both your bandmates did pretty well for themselves in Arcadia,” the interviewer tells Nate, like he doesn’t know Bellamy and Raven have significant others now. He found out way before the media did. “Are you jealous?”
“Jealous of what, exactly?” he asks, with a shrug. “Wells isn’t my type. Clarke is even less my type. And don’t even start with Bellamy being my type.”
She laughs, apparently genuinely amused, which makes Nate like her more. Most of the questions reporters ask aren’t really their own fault, especially for shit like this. They’re doing rapid-fire press for a new single and everyone only has a few minutes. This website likes gossip, so the interviewer wants gossip. Nate doesn’t blame her.
“Trust me, even I’m getting tired of asking if you and Bellamy are secretly sleeping together. I was relieved I could stop asking about Bellamy and Raven. But is it tough? Being the last single member of the band? Does it get lonely?”
On the surface, the question is absurd. Bellamy and Raven are dating people, not off to war. He’s not alone. He’s not even single, although he hasn’t told anyone about Monty yet, not even his bandmates. They were fairly casual over the summer in Arcadia, didn’t even hook up very much. It was like having a friend with benefits, except the benefit rarely went farther than kissing. Nate didn’t mind, he liked the closeness of it, the intimacy, like getting close to Monty, but the last few months have been a weird sort of limbo, Monty at school, applying for jobs, figuring things out.
He is lonely, but not because he’s single and his friends aren’t. And Monty’s graduating next month, already has an apartment lined up in the city. Him and Jasper together, despite Monty having a boyfriend–they agreed they can work on cohabitation once they’ve been in the same place a little longer.
“I guess that’s not how it is for me. I don’t feel worse about being single when my friends aren’t? Maybe I will, I get why people do. But I like Clarke and Wells, so mostly I’ve got more friends. And they help out keeping an eye on Bellamy’s sister when we’re busy. Not to get too sappy, but mostly being in Arcadia means my family grew. Hard to be lonely when that happens.”
She looks dubious, for which Nate can’t blame her. If he didn’t have Monty, he doesn’t know what he’d say, but as it is, it’s pretty easy. Arcadia was good to him too, and his life is about to get better. Maybe he’ll do another interview with her, when everything is said and done and he and Monty have decided to go public. Let her know how he was really feeling.
For now, though, it’s just for him. Him and Monty, Jasper, the rest of the band. All the people who really matter.
“So, nothing big to report? No one special in your life?”
“Everyone in my life is special,” he says, with a shit-eating grin, and she laughs again.
“Of course, sorry. Anything else you’d like our readers to know?”
“I’m good,” he says, meaning it. “Great, even. No one has to worry about me.”
Once he’s out, he texts Monty: Ngl, I’m looking forward to telling people I’m kissing you.
I’m ready to brag whenever, Monty shoots back. Can’t wait to get all those dating a rockstar points. Finally, I’ll be cool.
Nate smiles. You’re the coolest, he says, and puts his phone in his pocket as he waits for Bellamy and Raven to finish up so they can leave. It’s not exactly the life he was expecting, not this time last year, not when he was in high school, not when he was a kid, deciding what he wanted to be when he grew up.
He never thought it could be this good, and in another month, it will be even better.
He’s got no complaints.