Andrew stares blankly at the piece of paper in front of him, a pen lying right next to it. It was Renee’s suggestion. Of course Renee’s. She meant that he should write a letter to him. Let out his feelings. But you can’t send a letter to the dead and you can’t let out feelings when you only feel nothing.

Nothing.

Andrew remembers when the nothing turned into a this, when a shared room ended in a shared apartment with cats.

He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, but fails. He hates this.

With a grim mien he takes the pen, spins it in his hand, stares at the blank page again.

He was never good with words; they are merely just letters in random orders. They are on the tip of his tongue and he feels like they are choking him.

In the end, he just writes down nine words. The only words that matter. He crumbles the letter and throws it in the trash bin before leaving the room to smoke.


He wrote:


Neil Abram Josten,


thank you. You were amazing.


Andrew

1st part // 2nd part // here’s the 3rd part. just so y'all undestand a bit more where i’m coming from: when neil lived with his uncle, he went to high school without having the weight of running away from his father on his shoulders. of course he didn’t have a “normal” life, but it was calmer.. so he could pay more attention to people & explore a bit more some aspects about himself. huge thanks to @tangy_tangible_tangelos and @myblessedeyes for being kind enough to help me out!! uh, that’s it.

● andrew wanted to take neil to eden’s twilight and lick the smoke and liquor out of his mouth, while the heavy bass disguised the way his whole body would tremble at neil’s touch.

● he wanted to dress neil up, get rid of his unflattering clothes and dress him up real nice. black heavy boots, ripped skinny jeans - oh, his thighs would look so nice - a cool oversized tshirt, etc. andrew maaaybe (just maybe) fantasized about how hot neil would look with a nostril piercing.

● andrew wanted to map his body like neil’s skin was the sea, and his own hands were ships, and his lips were the wind. andrew’s mission was conquering; he wanted to devour, to dig trenches with his teeth in the muscle of neil’s neck, make that territory his when he reached land. he wanted to explore the scars and burns. he wanted to discover if there were, perhaps, any more to find between all those layers of secondhand rags.

● andrew was touch-starved and terrified.

● he wanted so much. his body was a traitorous trap he couldn’t get away from. he yearned for more. he was afraid of himself, of what he wanted, of what he could do with that lithe body between his fingers. he feared destruction. he feared devastation. it was like the aftermath of drug-induced haze.

● one time, during one of their smoke breaks, neil bitched about how his roomate was getting pissed at him for smoking in the dorm, and stinking up their living room. “fox tower’s roof” andrew said unimpressed “is isolated enough. you get get in pretty easily, nobody really gives a shit who comes and goes. but if you dare to show up when i’m there, i’m going to throttle you” oh god, how did andrew wish neil would just fucking show up one night.

● they still didn’t talk much. neil would make snark little criticisms about the foxes’ prior games, and andrew would roll his eyes and tell that idiot to ‘shut the fuck up about exy’, and neil would frown and give him the finger. one day when nicky called in the middle of another one of their smoke breaks, andrew told him to fuck off in german. neil watched silently and then said in a perfect german accent “your politeness trespasses any language barrier” before he gave him a sly smirk on his way back into the building.

● andrew was becoming intrigued. the fact that his body already was, wasn’t something surprising, but andrew felt a strangeness when the numb feeling in his chest gave space to something close to curiosity and interest. who was that british fuck who spoke a foreign language flawlessly, never talked to anyone, and had his skin marked and torn by so much rage?

● one tuesday before a classic lit exam, andrew bumped into neil in the library. neil was swimming in a sea of books. “i guess we’re having a study session right now” andrew stated and sat down. “why” neil asked blankly. “i’m joining you because i’m failing and i think shakespeare was a fucking asshole” lies, lies, lies… andrew needed to know more about him before taking him to eden’s. before asking what he wanted to ask of neil.

● what andrew found out about neil was predictable, but not at all boring. lies, lies, lies - white lies, dark lies. neil lied like he did almost anything else recklessly yet calculatedly. andrew also confirmed to himself that neil josten was indeed annoying. orphan of both parents, he went to live with his uncle in london for a few years. he was obsessed with exy. andrew could smell the lies, but he couldn’t detect any maliciousness in the way neil moved or spoke. neil was more afraid of people than he was, and that was enough for that moment.

● “you are coming to columbia with me on friday night” he stated after neil stopped drawling about hamlet. “what” neil asked tense and surprised. “are you seriously that fucking slow?” andrew wondered out loud. neil wasn’t straight, andrew knew that for a fact, because neil was a male fox fan who didn’t talk about allison’s boobs once since they met.

● “i’ll have clothes ready for you by 9pm, so be ready” he said, trying his best to stay in control. bossing neil around was easier than flirting. flirting was useless and boring. andrew was not saying that because he had no idea how to fucking flirt with someone. he was not.

● neil lifted up his eyebrows, and twisted his lips up like he finally understood some difficult math equation “don’t you like what i’m wearing?” he propped his chin between his hands. “you look like a fucking hobo, josten. and don’t fucking try me” andrew sneered, wanting to punch him and kiss him at the same time. “is this your way of flirting with me?” neil smiled, and that made andrew growl low in his throat. “is this your way of making me hate you even more?”.

● that friday night, andrew would ask neil. he’d give him ice cream from sweeties, and shots from eden’s, and he’d take him outside to smoke, and he’d ask him… for an arrangement. for lips against sweaty skin. for freckled hands swimming in his hair. for consent. for the rawest kind of trust he could give a 'stranger’.

When I’m sad I just think about the fact that Kevin Day is happy and healthy and living his best life and Riko is dead in the ground somewhere, and suddenly I feel a lot better.

okay but imagine a fan being seated next to andrew on a flight

(andrew is on his way to visit neil, theyre playing for different teams across the country, and he has only a few days off so he wont waste his precious time by driving) (hes basically being the self destructive troll he is) (also he would never admit this but he feels slightly better about planes since that one time neil comforted him about plane accidents being not that common) (slightly, i repeat)

anyways hes seated next to this fan and after the flight they share the whole thing on their twitter (feel free to imagine yourself as this person at this point because thats basically what im doing rn)

it goes like this:

  • GUYS
  • GUYS YOU WONT BELIEVE WHO I WAS SEATED NEXT TO DURING MY FLIGHT
  • *a picture of the fan holding their thumbs up, smiling crazy happy, andrew is sitting next to them and looking at the camera with his best blank face*
  • ANDREW FUCKING MINYARD!!!!!!
  • it was the most uncomfortable 3 hours of my life i L O V E D it!!! lmao
  • okay but seriously it was the best flight ive ever had
  • like at first i didnt even realize it was him, i had some problems finding my seat and i was kinda exhausted&pissed off
  • so i wasnt paying attention to who i was sitting next to
  • but then when i settled i turned around and 
  • i was sitting!!! next to!!! andrew!! freaking!!! minyARD!!
  • so i was like “oh my god youre andrew minyard!”
  • and he just said “apparently”
  • i died ok
  • guys hes as intimidating irl as he looks on the court but bOY he is smol
  • like i made sure to check it when we stood up to leave he is t i n y af
  • and as you can see on the pic he was wearing glasses ashdgash
  • A BLESSING OK
  • speak of the pic i had to bribe almost all of my sweets just to get that pic with him
  • like B O I
  • and omg he puts 7 PACKS OF SUGAR IN HIS HOT CHOCOLATE LIKE WTF 
  • SEVEN
  • where do all those carbs go??? not to his height apparently
  • jk andrew ily
  • okay but seriously
  • I wasseated next to the best goalkeeper of exy history and it was the best day of my life
  • oh
  • OH
  • ALSO NOW THAT IM SAFELY AT HOME AND OUT OF HIS REACH I CAN FINALLY SAY
  • HE HAS NEIL JOSTEN AS HIS PHONE BACKGROUND GUYS SJDNHASJFHAKSJFA BRB DYING

the whole thing goes viral

neil loves it

then andrew simply tweets:

  • Funny how you think your house is safe.