It was a few days later, and Emma had gone home, surrendering to her sickness. She was taking antibiotics and Grayson was force feeding her vitamin C every other day. She had been completely MIA on all social media for a while. It didn't seem like that long, but when you make all of your money off of social media, it seems detrimental. In addition, the smoke from the wildfires had infiltrated several parts of LA, and Twitter was in an uproar. Mostly being overdramatic, but you know, that was our job. Grayson's dumbass thought they were clouds and posted early in the morning before I was awake, and I had to inform him that it was smoke.
"What?" he had exclaimed, face going beet red immediately.
"Take it down, stupid. And tweet or something." I coached him, annoyed at his lack of knowledge. 2018 has not been his year, I thought, cradling my head in my hands at the kitchen table. I made my own Snapchat, trying to digress the backlash Grayson was receiving, especially after Logan Paul made his own jab. James had texted me in a frenzy of anger, going on and on about how he had no right to go after Grayson like that.
It was ironic, how he had won the 'who's smarter' video, and crushed me in an IQ test, but turned around and did that. It was an honest mistake, but you can never get away with those mistakes as an influencer.
The next morning, I was awoken by retching from Grayson's room. I ran in, finding him in the bathroom, leaning over a toilet.
"Oh, bud..." I mumbled, getting him a glass of water. His hair was disheveled, eyes red and watering, and his cheeks seemed sunken.
"I think I'm sick." he groaned.
"You think?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Is it the smoke?"
"I think so," Grayson replied. His lungs had always been sensitive, compounded by asthma, of course he was reacting badly.
"We need to leave," I said.
"No, I'm really fine." Grayson insisted.
"Clearly not." I shot back. "We're leaving as soon as you stop throwing up." I got up, not wanting to hear his argument. I noticed outside, and the smoke was definitely closing in on us. I called James.
"Are you leaving?" I asked him, just after he picked up.
"Yes, Ian and I are booking flights home now," James said.
"You're going all the way home?" I questioned.
"Might as well. Fires are going to take most of California, at least the air quality." James reasoned.
"They're all contained in NorCal." I insisted. "I was thinking of just going to San Francisco and booking a hotel."
"Do what you want Ethan, we've already booked flights," James said, exasperated. "Are you getting Emma?"
"Yeah, probably. Be safe." I said.
"You too," James replied before I hung up. I called Emma next.
"Are you leaving?" she asked me immediately.
"Yeah, Gray is sick because of the smoke," I explained.
"Really? I'm surprised you're not sick yet," she observed.
"Where are you going?" I asked her.
"My dad wants me to come to Maine, where he is, but I think I'm just going to go home with my mom."
"We were thinking of booking a hotel in San Francisco," I told her.
"Just stay with us. I've met your parents, now you can meet one of mine." Emma suggested.
"Are you sure? Gray and I kind of take up a lot of space." I informed her.
"It's fine, Ethan. I'll call my mom right now." Emma assured me. "When are we leaving?"
"As soon as Grayson is done puking," I said in disgust. "We'll pick you up."
"Okay," she said quietly. "I'm nervous."
"I know. We'll be fine, Emma" I assured her, "Bye."
I hung up and checked on Grayson in the bathroom. He was lying on the tile, unmoving.
"We're leaving for San Francisco this afternoon," I told him. "Will you be good?"
"Yeah." he groaned, getting up.
And that afternoon, as we stood in the backyard, watching the smoke billow, I filmed a Snapchat to update everyone.
"We have to get Emma." Grayson reminded me lowly. I stopped recording.
"Great, now I have to retake this because you said that," I mumbled, holding the phone to my ear to check if you could hear him.
"Give it up, everyone knows you're dating," Grayson said, rolling his eyes.
"Unofficially." I reminded him.
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