Fifty Million Followers [BOYXBOY]

43.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

"How do you know about this place?"

"I didn't know about it. I just wandered the streets until I found something like it."

"Stop dicking around and tell me, mate."

Parker wraps his red fingers around his coffee cup. I can almost hear the hissing and see the steam coming off of them when they both come into contact.

"My mom took me here once and I just remember it. It's in an alley, there aren't many people around and hey, you're not being accosted."

I nod. "True."

Parker and I are sat in this little cafe just off one of the main roads. New York City is another word for jungle. I'm surprised that no one presses their faces against the window to see us, or that other patrons don't turn around to get a good look at us, or hear what we're talking about. It's weird being in public, being completely exposed. Even with a body guard stood outside the door, eyeing up everyone who comes inside, I still feel like I'm stood naked for everyone to see.

Every time the door swings open, an icy breeze slices through my skin. I've chosen to keep at least one layer on despite the heaters blaring and the coffee burning down my throat.

I never liked coffee before, now I need it to get out of bed.

Parker stares at me, takes my hand. "Why are you so cold? Is your skin made of wafer?" His hand is like fucking volcano, it warms the whole of me; even my face which I know is turning red. He laughs at that, and I do too, my nose going a daft sort of beetroot.

"Do you have lava instead of blood?"

He cups my nose into his hands so that it can warm, and then covers my ears, then I feel his leg snake around mine under the table.

"I'm gonna have to be your travelling heater this Christmas, aren't I?"

"Trust me. It's like this in Manchester all the time, I'm used to it. That's me telling you to fuck off."

He grins, and my phone goes off. The day this fucking phone stops ringing is the day it collides with a wall. A text from Oliver reads;

Gettin real cold waitin for you and your bf. Pick me up a frap while you're there?

Parker does this magic thing where he can read your text from leaning over and reading upside down.

"A frappuccino? So gaaaaayyy!" He says it loud enough that a few people turn around in their seats. I grab my coat.

"Come on dickhead. Let's go before Westboro Baptist Church pops up from behind the percolator."

The cold hits me like a slap when we step outside. Down here there are no flashes or screaming, just the distant sound of someone playing Christmas songs and the crunching of snow beneath our feet and cars speeding through New York City.

Our bodyguard, Colin, walks nearby, never out of sight or mind, but doesn't draw attention by being too close. I feel the cold snake up to my ears and I know they've gone red because Parker bursts out laughing.

"You look like Rudolph!"

"He had a red nose you twat." I shove him away, and he comes colliding back over to me that he nearly knocks me over. We start fighting, but not really, the kind that could very well feel like tickling. One or two people pass, but no one gives a shit about two boys roughhousing down a back road.