Not the same

After what happened with Alexis Ren's account, Grayson stops answering casual interview or collab questions on who his celebrity crush is. The flood of negative twelve year old's comments on all pictures of the undoubtedly sexy but completely stranger model beauty was enough to make a mental note for the future. Ethan, on the other hand, continues with his Nicki Minaj worship shtick, the brand not faltering a bit. Because Nicki can take whatever.

At least that's one explanation for why Grayson avoids the topic.

**

"You gotta stop that", mutters Ethan. He's irritated and obviously on edge. Grayson looks him over. When it first happened, this irritation thing, he was not sure what it was about, which was surprising, because Grayson always reads his twin like a book that was never closed in the first place.

Now, though, he knows it all too well.

"E", he sighs.

"I can't, I just - can't".

Grayson wishes he could be mad at Ethan right now. But he can't be truly mad at him. Roots of what Ethan is, to him, are grown too deep under his skin. He comprehends Ethan's emotion, this irritation, mixed with fear and anger, comprehends like his own, and this is why he can't be mad about it back. Because he feels it like his own. He deals with it like he would deal with his own.

But it's not his own, and that's the problem. He, himself, is actually calm at the moment. And kind of sad.

"Maybe that's how people go crazy", he thinks.

Apparently, Ethan can't take much of his silence - he never could.

"You were staring".

"At what?"

He doesn't know exactly, but they've been over talks like this at least a dozen times for the past couple months. So he can guess.

Was it someone's ass or something? On the street? In the mall? Did he leave something open on his phone? He's about to find out.

But no, this time, Ethan doesn't want to elaborate.

"Forget it. I'll go play".

Grayson sighs again. Ethan spends most of the day glued to his Fortnite world lately. If it's not an escape from reality route, than Trump is the best thing to ever happen to America.

"I'll go make dinner" , Grayson says, "Do you want anything?"

"Just order something".

He can't win these days.

**

They have always been physical. Very in touch with the way their bodies work. Spent half of their life wrestling, playing hockey, swimming, skiing, just running around until their lungs screamed for mercy. Started growing muscles around the age of twelve, when everybody else in their class were scrawny and small. Fooled girls over eighteen with their profile pictures on the social media and dating apps. Had no idea what to do with them, anyway.

So much energy was flowing through their veins, that they would have teared the house apart, so their Dad introduced them to sports very early on. But sports weren't even half of it.

They were fearless. Jumping from rocks and roofs no matter the height, diving into unknown bodies of water without checking the depth, rolling from hills, climbing trees, and occasionally breaking bones, which never turned out to be the end of the world, because their young bodies just regenerated and allowed for more, more, more. And they always had each other, a hand that would pull you up if you fell, and a foot to kick you in the ass if you hesitated before falling.