where truth and fiction meet // buckin

twelve

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Chris' POV
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I woke up to Jonny not beside me. I felt like a mess, and only could imagine how Jon must've felt as well. The bedroom door was open though, and the smell of the usual breakfast meal soon filled my nose. Bacon, pancakes, sausage, etc.

I sat up in bed, stretched, and yawned. I had a relaxing night's sleep, because of how much stress was relieved since we did it. Last night, was fucking amazing. It was the best night I've had in years; if not my whole life.

I got out of bed and pulled my pajama pants on. Walking to the delicious smelling kitchen of mine, I saw Jonny in front of the stove preparing the meal. I walked up behind him, kissing his neck. "I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too," He blushed, flipping the slices of bacon on the pan.

"Last night was really good,"

"It really was. I decided to make breakfast because I'm starved. I got up at like six in the morning to go get the supplies, because God knows you haven't any food in the fridge. You might have left overs from 1998," he laughed out at me, causing me to join.

"I always cook frozen meals or eat out. If not those, I usually eat at one of your guys' houses." I explain, and he knew what I meant. He still likes to joke anyways. I would've too.

"I made bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, and you an omelet. I know you like 'em."

"Thanks, babe," I told him, kissing his cheek. He turned around and pecked at my lips, getting a better angle. It was a short one, though, because he had to keep watch on the pancakes that looked like they were done any second now.

*

While we ate the very good meal Jonny prepared for the two of us, we spoke on different aspects of our lives. He even brought up the fact that we tell our personal families, but I told him there was no way to do that right now. I told him that we should tell them when they start to question us. He agreed, but not entirely. It was okay though; it wasn't anything to argue over.

I was now in the bathroom brushing my teeth. He was changing clothes, but didn't have a shirt to wear.

"Just go out like that, Jay," I smirked, and he rolled his eyes in a jokingly manner.

"I need to wear one of yours." he demanded, since there was no other option. I didn't care; he is my boyfriend after all.

"Go ahead," I inform. When my teeth were done being brushed, I then got dressed alongside Jon. He was trying to decide on which jacket of mine to wear.

"Wear the navy blue one." I suggested to him, and he sighed. "I guess. Where are we going today?"

"I was thinking maybe to Will's house for a few and then tomorrow maybe go to the park or something. We gotta be careful though. It's going to suck, since it'd be really nice to just like—hold your hand as we stroll on by," I say, and he blushed to the ground. I imagined in my head this perfect world where others who are dating the same sex don't get looked at differently. But we do, sadly, and me and Jonny weren't ready for that yet. As much as I would love to kiss him on that old tree by the swings, I can't. It really hurts.

"Okay. And then, can we go to the Bakery to play some old Parachutes songs?" I nodded, and smiled at his request. "Yes. I'd actually love to."

*

The day at Will's was humorous. He knows how to make everyone feel better. I think everyone gets a sense of security while with him. But alas, the day ended.

After we stayed the night, he was going to go watch some movie that he'd been bragging about for months now. We understood, and decided to go to the old park together like we had planned.

We were just walking around it, when suddenly I spotted a couple familiar paparazzi. "Oh my god. Look who it is," I scoffed in disgust.

"Ignore them, Chris," he tries to reassure me. I just couldn't. It's like my life is just entertainment to them, to do as they want with it. I spotted the negative headlines now: Chris Martin and Jonny Buckland from Coldplay: Gay!!? tOGETHER!!??1! OMG!1!!!11

I was mortified by just thinking about it. "We have to leave, Jon."

"Okay," he says, his voice sounding like he had a false sense of hope.

I didn't want to let him down. But it would be horrific if they got pictures of us constantly hanging out together, they would start to gain suspicion.

We walked the other way, and Jonny playfully pushed me. I wasn't in the mood.

"Stop," I mumbled, annoyed that he's not listening. I sounded really harsh, but he had to stop it. I was doing this to avoid the confusion everyone would obtain.

"I was just pl—"

"Jon—we're not going to 'play' around together in public like this unless we're the with group. I mean really? Act your age."

My rude words spoken to him left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Are you kidding me? I'm not going anywhere with you. Fuck you, Chris." he exclaimed, brushing past my right shoulder. I turned around, and was in shock.

I felt like I ruined everything, and it's all because the paparazzi keep it up. They constantly follow us. It feels like I'm trapped sometimes.

I shouldn't have said that to Jonny though. It hurt to know I've upset my one and only love, all because I was being crushed by so many thoughts of what could've happened. I could've just played back, a little.

I chased after him, but he ignored me.

"Baby," I whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm just so fucking over my head right now."

"You're in over your head all because of those fucking paps. They aren't even looking at us. They don't even care. Just leave me alone," he said back, turning to signal a taxi to pick him up.

"I didn't mean it, Jay!"

"I said leave me alone."

He got in the taxicab, leaving me behind in the wind. And it's all because of me.