It's a blank canvas. Something I can make my own, personalize, turn into whatever I want it to be. There's no elaborate design telling me who to be or how to present myself. Just clean lines and possibility.
I hold it up to my face. It fits against my features like it was made for me.
Which it was.
"The rabbit ears," Jamie says, watching me with poorly concealed delight. "I noticed you wear that hoodie a lot in press pictures when I was looking for inspo. The one with the bunny ears? I thought it might be... I don't know. Your thing."
"Itismy thing," I admit with a dry laugh, setting the mask down carefully on the table. "Thank you. Seriously. This is incredible."
Jamie's whole face lights up like I just handed him a winning lottery ticket. "Orion helped with the structural work. He's better at engineering than me. I'm more of a... decorative flourishes kind of guy."
"Well, you both did an amazing job."
The server appears with perfect timing, setting down a lavender latte in front of Jamie and refilling my water. I notice Phoenix and Rafael in my peripheral vision, hunched over their drinks in the corner booth.
Rafael keeps checking his phone. Phoenix is staring at the menu like he's actually going to order something other than a burger.
Very subtle, guys.
"So," Jamie says once the server leaves, wrapping his hands around his mug. "How are things going with the band? Rex hasn't scared you off yet?"
"Not for lack of trying."
Jamie laughs. "He's not as scary as he wants people to think. Underneath all the..." He makes a vague gesture that somehow encompasses Rex's entire existence. "Menacing alpha energy, he's actually kind of a softie."
"Rex. Asoftie."
"I know, I know. But I've known him for years. Ever since he first came to me for masks." Jamie takes a sip of his latte, foam leaving a tiny mustache on his upper lip that he dabs away with his napkin. "The thing about trauma like that—visible trauma, the kind you can't hide—is that it becomes part of how you see yourself. Even when other people look at you and see someone worthy of love."
My throat tightens.
I think about Rex. About the glimpse I got in that tunnel, the horror in his voice when he realized I might have seen him. About the way he can't even have mirrors in his room.
"What if someone has made themselves completely unreachable?" I ask quietly. "What if they've closed themselves off so thoroughly that any attempt to get close just... bounces off?"
Jamie's warm brown eyes study me for a long moment. The sunshine in his expression dims just slightly.
"Can I be honest with you about something?"
"Please."
He sets down his latte, fingers tracing the rim of the mug. "Being with Orion is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I love him more than I knew it was possible to love another person. But it's also..." He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "It'shard, Bells. Harder than people think."
He's quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts.
"People who've been rejected enough times—really rejected, made to feel like they're fundamentallywrong—they learn to reject first. It's safer that way." Jamie's thumb runs along theedge of his mug. "Can't be abandoned if you push everyone away before they get the chance."
He's right, of course.
Rex's walls are so high and thick, even basic kindness seems to confuse him. He keeps showing up to protect me while simultaneously acting like I'm the enemy.
"The self-loathing doesn't just... go away," Jamie continues softly. "Orion and I have been together for years, and he still has days where he can't believe I actually want to be with him. Days where he's convinced I'm going to wake up and realize I made a mistake."
He shrugs sadly.
I file that away somewhere in the back of my mind. Not because I'm planning anything. I'm not. Rex and I are barely civil on a good day. Whatever's between us is complicated enough without adding romance to the equation.
But it's useful information.