Water On Fire [MileApo | mxm]

13

Everything was going too well. It was only a matter of time before things started to fall apart. There are rumors about Build and his girlfriend and writer, Poi, that have serious repercussions for their careers, KinnPorsche, and BOC. It's even caused Mile and Apo to fight. Mile has been taught to always believe women. Apo has had bad experiences with women stabbing him in the back after he rejected them; he was automatically defensive of Build.

What BOC has could've changed the game, if not for this scandal. Mile knows that if BOC doesn't disassociate with Build, it will never recover. Mile is unfeeling when it comes to business; he has Build fired from the company in cold blood.

Meanwhile, Jeff is talking about wanting to move on to bigger things. Pain throws Mile's heart to the ground. On an intellectual level, he knows he isn't responsible for all of this. It has nothing to do with him. But it is in his nature to blame himself. He should have been paying more attention; instead, he was distracted by Apo.

Mile is venting about it all to the only person who could ever understand it all, when Apo hands him a book.

"I got this for you."

"A cat encyclopedia." Mile smiles, accepting the proffered gift. "Thanks, Po."

Apo twists his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his toes.

"You'd better read it."

"Absolutely." Mile is used to doing things he has no interest in doing for Apo's sake. Mile always lets Apo win at rock-paper-scissors. Apo picks scissors; Mile picks paper. Apo looks so gorgeous and sexy when he wins; it's hard not to give in. And, yes, Mile reads wrist-thick encyclopedias about animals he's not crazy about - for Apo.

"But not now. Try my cocktail."

"Is it ready?"

Apo takes a sip, and purses his lips.

"What is that taste? Did the lime go bad?"

Mile would like to kiss that pout. "Needs a little something extra. Can't remember what I used to add in New York..." He adds a touch of this and a touch of that and finally seems to be satisfied with the result. He gives some to Mile to try.

"Very good, my American," Mile praises. "Make me another one."

Mile used to listen to rain sounds and ambient music to fall asleep. Now he lies in bed with a sleep mask on and listens to Apo wander around the apartment, to the little sound effects that come out of his mouth, to his sweet singing voice and his childish laugh as he talks to himself in the mirror, playing dress-up. Mile could listen to him forever.

Mile is in the middle of teaching Apo guitar when his PR team sends him a message that essentially equates to: we need to talk.

•••

"So here's what we have." His PR manager spreads her hands across the table. "Long calls involving the color of your underwear and romantic confessions in low voices. Serenading with romantic songs. Brazen, unabashed flirting on social media. A plethora of, uh, phallic jokes. You called him baby on stage, outside the act. You...share...beds? Unnecessarily?"

She removes her glasses slowly. "All of this is now public domain." A crease appears between her brows. "Are you interested in men, Mile?" She cocks her head. "Is that what this is? If your intention is to pronounce yourselves married, we can talk about that angle. Just let your team know. But otherwise..." She spreads her hands, palms up. "Help us out here, Mile."

Mile, sitting opposite her, stares stonily ahead without responding. He knows he hasn't made their jobs easy. But he doesn't want to live a life where he can't be his authentic self, shackled by rules and obligations.