Chapter Text
It all starts at the family reunion (doesn't it always?).
Halfway through the quote-unquote “game time” (the adults played charades while Virgil and his cousins, Remy and Percy, sit and scroll on their phones), one of his aunt’s boyfriend proposes.
Which is fine. It’s sweet, cute, even, but this particular aunt isn’t really big into parties or big events - hence the small gathering - and she decides, a week later, that the wedding will just be family and family friends in a nearby park over Virgil’s spring break.
Which is also fine! Virgil loves small gatherings because small = less people!
The only not-fine thing, however, is the invitation his aunt gives him.
Specifically the bolded “+1”
When he asks his mom about it, she tells him that he needs to bring a date - which is stupid, mind you, why should he have to bring someone? - but he shrugs it off and decides to bring his best friend and just chill during the ceremony. That’s fine. It’s all fine.
Until he calls up Patton and finds out he’s going up north with Logan over break.
So Virgil says, “Oh, cool, okay- uh, nevermind, then. Talk to you later, Pat.”
And promptly panics.
NOT ONLY is Patton going up north with his boyfriend and’ll be unavailable, but Virgil’s only other viable option is also going up north with his boyfriend, like a stupid adorable married couple- Virgil can only stuff his face in his pillow and groan.
Cut to school the next day - a.k.a. one week before the scheduled Doomsday, a.k.a. the supposed best day of his aunt’s life - and Virgil is kind of a mess.
His hair is even messier than usual, not to mention the fact that the purple dye is fading and he’s left with his natural black, but he can feel the bags under his eyes from a night full of panicking and zero sleep. He forgets concealer and doesn’t even realize until he catches his reflection in a window and sees his freckles bright and clear. Great.
He trudges through the halls all day, utterly exhausted and drained by the time he gets to his last-period chemistry class,,,
(the only issue there is his lab partner, always bursting with energy and chatter and crooked smiles and sparkly eyes- anD ANNOYING COMMENTS)
((….virgil has just a lil bit of a crush on him.))
(((just a little bit.)))
((((…a lotta bit.))))
He walks in and, sure enough, Roman Kingsley is chatting loudly with a few other theater kids who are all clustered around his and Virgil’s desk like Roman is a lighthouse for geeky kids who somehow use musicals and Shakespeare to be popular.
Virgil takes a deep breath, shuffles his way over, and shoulders quietly past the kids and takes his seat.
He has his earbuds in, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Roman wave at the kids as if he’s shooing them away before sitting down, and a second later, he feels a hand tap his shoulder.
He takes one earbud out and raises an eyebrow at a smiling Roman, ignoring the heat rushing to his face.
“What’s up with you today, Stormcloud?” Roman says, leaning his chin on the palm of his hand.
Virgil squints. “What do you mean?”
“You seem down-”
“I’m always down.”
Roman actually snickers at that, and Virgil feels a tiny smile twitch at his mouth before he smothers it. “I guess so. Nothing’s wrong, though?”
And Virgil swears he means to say something about Roman minding his own business, or ‘why do you care,’ or- something edgy or reclusive, dang it-
But what actually slips out of his mouth is “Just stressed out about my aunt’s wedding.”
Immediately, alarms blare in his head - TMI ABORT ABORT ABORT YOU FU-
Roman’s perfect eyebrows draw together. “Are you… planning it? Or something?”
What a fantastic idiot. “No,” Virgil says quietly, shifting the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands as he shrinks into his seat, “I just- I have to bring a date to my aunt’s wedding, and my best friend Patton is being a domestic geek with his boyfriend over break, so I can’t bring either of them, and I don’t talk to that many people, surprisingly enough-”
He’s cut off by Roman’s laugh, bright and rich and a lil bit dorky when his nose scrunches up, and Virgil’s eyes go wide.
“I’m sorry,” Roman breathes between laughs, “that’s bad, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at it- you’re just really funny, I’m-” His laughter dies out when Virgil blinks at him, though V kinda misses the sound as Roman clears his throat. “…sorry.”
“It’s fine. I don’t know what I’m gonna do, yknow?” They both go quiet for a moment - Virgil slowly turns back to his spot of the desk and mentally facepalms. Of course he doesn’t know, he’s frickin Roman Kingsley, you moron, but sure, go ahead and make every interaction with him as awkward as possible. Just stick to talking about ions next time.
“What day is it?”
He looks up, surprised, at Roman, who’s watching his expectantly. “Uh- next week. Next Friday.”
Roman perks up. “I’m free then! If you don’t have anyone else to take, I mean.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
Oh, sh!t- Roman- the wedding- and he- anyone else?! As if Virgil could find anyone else better than flippin-
“Virgil?” Roman’s posture shrinks, just a little bit, and Virgil realizes he hasn’t responded any more. “You don’t have to say yes, I just thought-”
“No!” Roman jerks back at his outburst, eyebrows raised- frickfrickfrick- “I mean, yes! Yea, you can come, that’d be cool!” He clears his throat, calms down. “Fine, I mean. That’d be fine. Yes.”
The smile that lights up Roman’s face makes Virgil’s heart race - he’s disappointed that the Chem teacher chooses right then to start class, but he heads home with a little more hope for this wedding.
Until he goes and messes it up.
His mom is in the kitchen baking when he gets home, hair in a messy ponytail and face bright with a smile when she sees her son walk in. “How was school?” she asks as Virge sits at the island.
“It was okay,” he says, grabbing a cookie as soon as she puts them on the counter. “I got a plus one for Aunt Patty’s wedding.”
His mom beams. “Is it Patton? I haven’t seen him in a while - you should invite him over!”
Virgil pauses chewing, setting the cookie down, still a little bit bitter despite himself. “No, Pat’s going to Vermont with Logan over the break.”
“Oh.” His mom slows as she starts washing dishes, gives him a sly look from the corner of her eye. “Who, then?”
“Roman Kingsley.” His mom raises an eyebrow. “From my chemistry class.”
“Ah…” She tilts her head at the tray she’s scrubbing and says, almost too quickly for Virgil to really process, “So, this is your… boyfriend, then?”
Emphasis on the too fast for him to process part.
Emphasis on the he’s an idiot subtext.
“Yeah?”
Emphasis on he’s a complete and bumbling moron.
His mom perks up, her smile brightening by actual megawatts as her hands still over the sink. “Really? Aw, I can’t wait to meet him, honey!”
wAIT NONONONONONO-
“Yeah,” he repeats lamely.
(nailed it.)
He’s very aware of his other option here. “No, he’s just nice and invited himself because I’m a loser whose only friends are already dating and leaving me to attend a wedding alone and be, once more for emphasis, a loser.”
Also known as telling the truth.
Except that his mom looks so happy.
…that’s kind of his only motivator in this situation.
She’d be so disappointed if he corrected her; he knows, from the worried glances and hushed conversations with his dad, that she worries about him and his struggling - i.e. nonexistent - social life. He really doesn’t want to see the light in her eyes dissipate because of him.
So he sticks with option one: he doesn’t correct her.
Also known as lying.
Also known as the magnum opus of his Stupidity.
Also known as having a lot to explain to Roman tomorrow.