Tank looms over Bradley, who suddenly seems anxious.

What the hell is going on?

"Tank," Bradley says cheerfully. His tone is obviously fake, but Tank doesn't seem to mind. Actually, he grins and ruffles Bradley's hair.

"I was just... checking on Bradley. Word on the street was that he's been staying here." Tanks eyes roves over me as he says this, on guard for some reason.

Bradley steps in front of me. "Sorry, Tank, but we're kind of busy right now."

Tank pushes him aside roughly and enters the dorm. "No need to be like that, Bradley, baby."

I look between them curiously, Bradley being clearly distressed at Tank's presence. The brick wall of a man sits on the small couch in the corner of the room, and I swear I can hear the wobbly legs of the furniture begging for the sweet release of death. Bradley walks over to him, and I follow closely behind.

"Get out," Bradley says menacingly to Tank, his arm outstretched to keep me from coming around to his side.

"Remember," Tank says as he stands up and towers over the brunet. "I know all your secrets... Elton John."

"Elton John?" I repeat, confused. "Excuse you-"

Bradley looks back at me with fire in his eyes. "Don't talk... please."

Tank cuts in with an annoying smirk. "Oh, he hasn't told you? I'm surprised. You guys are all buddy-buddy now."

"Shut up," Bradley says through gritted teeth.

Again, what the hell is going on?

The big man laughs and begins to pace around us in a circle. "Bradley here is something of an idealist- a romantic, if you will."

Bradley glares at him. "Tank..." 

"In fact, he's so amazing at relationships that he broke my heart. Did you know that, Goof? Did you know we used to date? He didn't want to tell anyone, of course. I mean, who knows what everyone would say if the prodigal son of the Uppercrusts turned out to be a gay freak-"

"Shut up!" Bradley yells, charging at him.

I gasp at the sudden action. "Bradley!"

Tank doesn't fall to the ground; instead, he stops Bradley with one hand and lifts his off the ground by his baby blue sweater. I watch in horror, my feet refusing to move. Bradley struggles against him, and I can see the strands of yarn stretching from the tension.

"I should make you pay your money this month up front," Tank growls, slamming Bradley back on his dresser.

Bradley groans, his voice sounding strangled. "I don't have the money."

Tank scoffs, his hand coming forward to tear the sweater a little. "You've got to pay somehow."

"I'll pay for him," I say abruptly, using my crutches to quickly get over to the two men. "I don't know and don't care what it's for, as long as it gets you out of here."

"Max," Bradley says softly, and Tank presses him firmer into the dresser.

I ignore the brunet's plead and pull out my wallet. "How much?"

Tanks lets go of Bradley, who steps behind me. "Five hundred, but... I'll just make you pay his due for next week- one hundred dollars."

I pull it out, despite Bradley's protests. Tanks snatches it from me and leaves, giving Bradley one last scowl. The door slams behind him, almost hard enough to make the knob come off. I feel the gust of wind as Bradley jumps at the sound, his breath exiting his body shakily.

Without any further words, he trudges over to his bed and flops down on it much like he did this afternoon. He groans into his pillow, punching it half-heartedly. Hesitantly, I walk over to him and sit on the edge of his bed.

"So," I say anxiously, "that just happened."

"Just throw all your insults at me already," he mutters into the pillow. "I get it if you can't be my roommate anymore."

I rub his arm soothingly, running my fingers through the frayed threads. "I'd be a dumbass to kick you out over something like this."

He turns to rest his head on its side and glances up at me for a second before speaking. "I hope this isn't weird, but... you have pretty eyes."

"Oh, thank you..." I look away, trying to ignore that fluttering in the bottom of my stomach.

"Yeah," he says quietly, his eyes shutting in a slow manner as he falls asleep in front of me.

I stare at him perfect features, the way his high cheekbones rest under his long-lashed eyes and the fullness of his lips that slightly parted as his face went lax. I've never noticed how flawless his facial structure is, and it hits me like a bus going seventy miles per hour. A strange feeling washes over me, and I'm mortified as my face heats up.

As I try to make sense of these weird, foreign emotions, I begin to think about the fight from minutes before and how Bradley had to have been injured by the brutalness of Tank's hold on him against the wooden dresser. My hand travels down to his back that rises and falls in a hypnotic way, and I shakily lift his blue sweater. On his lower back is a scrape that extends across the expanse of his skin, cutting almost deeply enough to the point of blood.

I get up and go to the bathroom, running a rag under hot water. I walk over to Bradley with the warm cloth, and his eyes flutter open as he senses me approaching. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his gaze travels to meet mine in a questioning look.

I speak to him, my voice soft. "Just... stay still."

He closes his eyes again as I lay the rag across his wound, his hand resting on my knee tiredly. I press against his back slightly, and he lets out a low hiss of pain. I mutter a quick apology as I search around for something else to soothe him.

"No," he says into his pillow.

I turn around, surprised at his outburst. "No?"

He pats the spot beside him, not bothering to unbury his face. "Stay."

"Okay."

~*~*~

I pull myself up on the pull-up bar, my arms shaking with exertion. I haven't been to the gym in a hot minute (give or take two weeks), and my body was refusing to cooperate as well as it had before. Lowering myself down, my leg doesn't give out or hurt when I touch the ground, and I'm happy to be reminded that my knee isn't giving me problems anymore.

Lindsay and Abby, the two athletic gossips of State College, enter the gym with the tell-tale smirks of knowing something nobody else knows. They sit next to each other on a wooden bench, setting down their towels and pink water bottles. I sneakily eavesdrop, as one does when you've got the world's biggest blabbermouths at your side.

"Did you hear Bradley found somewhere to stay?" Lindsay says with an annoying scoff.

I see Abby nod in my peripheral vision. "Yeah, I heard it was someone in the dorms."

Lindsay scoffs again. "What loser would let Bradley stay with them after all he's done?"

"Maybe you should mind your business," I blurt suddenly, my face flushing as I realize they heard me.

They scowl at me and go back to their conversation. I huff, turning my attention back to my exercise equipment but still keeping an ear out for anything they might say. Maybe they know something I don't.

Abby continues the toxic gossip train (😭). "Did you also hear about Bradley and Tank? Apparently, they dated for a while, and now Bradley is paying Tank off, for some reason."

I perk up at the mention of their names and situation. Would they know anything? Perhaps I could gain something from this conversation after all. 

Lindsay's voice floats through the room. "Tank told me something about that, but I'm not allowed to say."

"Spill," Abby says loudly, jumping up a bit in excitement.

The blonde grins at her friend's insistence. "So, you know how Tank and Bradley dated before the X games incident?"

Abby nods frantically. "Yes, yes, I do!"

"Apparently," Lindsay says with a smirk, "Bradley pays Tank not to tell his parents that he's gay."

My heart drops, and I fully turn to look at the girls. Well, that explains the story behind why he'd need to sell weed to pay Tank. Do his parents actually not know that he's gay? 

I grab my gym bag and stalk out of the room, ready to talk to Bradley about whatever is going on. As soon as I reach the dorm, Bradley opens the door, as if sensing I was approaching it. His face is pale, and I can see the visible nervousness across his features.

He steps back into the dorm, allowing me in. I drop my gym bag on the floor and turn to face him with a questioning expression. Sighing, he closes the door and leans up against it with a loud thump.

"So," I say awkwardly, "I found out from Lindsay why you're paying Tank."

He hums in response before speaking. "Sure does explain why I took the Brewtiful Day job, yeah?"

I nod, leaning up against the wall adjacent to him. "I'm sorry."

"I quit my job with Nico," he says, abrupt and flat.

I grin in relief, running a hand through my mullet. "Oh, thank goodness. It's about time-"

He cuts me off by slightly raising his hand. "I told Tank I wouldn't pay him anymore, so..."

"But then-"

Bradley interrupts me again. "I don't care about my parents. I'll handle them. The only thing I was thinking about when I informed Tank was your safety. I didn't want to pull you into this. I value you too much."

And that was it.

That was when I realized I've always been in love with Bradley Uppercrust the Third.