masquerade ≠ ethan dolan

ten

Ethan let a moan fall from his lips, one hand resting on the shower wall, the other stroking himself, imagining it was Clover.

"Fuck," he gasps, hot water trailing down his skin as he finishes, not moving for a few minutes. He sighs as he turns off the water, climbing out of the shower to get dressed.

"E? We're supposed to film!" Grayson shouts.

"Gimme a minute," the older twin shouts back, annoyed. He pulls on the sweatshirt Clover bought him and some shorts before walking out to meet Grayson. "What're we filming again?"

"Dude..." Grayson sighs, placing a hand on his brothers arm. "What happened with her?"

Ethan crosses his arms, biting his tongue instead of answering. He just shrugs and walks toward the couch to film. Grayson isn't having it though-he turns off the camera.

"Seriously, what's up? It's been almost a week and you've been sulking the whole time. Are you okay, bro?" He obviously wasn't.

He'd barely taken the hoodie off, or left his bedroom at all. He'd just been sitting in bed in the dark as often as he could. Not crying, but just a bit empty and trying to figure out what to do with himself.

The incessant dreams and thoughts about Clover weren't helping either. Whether they were wet dreams or just sweet, they didn't make him feel any better. He still had the memory of their night in the hotel burned in his brain.

"E..." Grayson says softly. "Really, what did she do?"

"She didn't do anything," Ethan snaps. "Well-she did, but it's more about what she isn't doing. We just-it's whatever." It obviously wasn't 'whatever' though. And seeing the look on Grayson's face, Ethan couldn't help blurt, "we just had sex, alright? And when we got back to LA she told me to stop calling her, and now she won't fucking answer."

Ethan felt like he'd called a million times, every single one going to voicemail. Clover was doing a hell of a job ignoring him.

Granted, she said she would. He didn't think she meant it.

"Wait, did something happen? Why didn't she want you to call her?" Grayson's eyebrows furrowed. "Everything like... works, right? Everything went fine?"

"It's definitely not that," he huffs. Normally they might be able to laugh a little about that kind of comment, but Ethan was not in the mood. "And I'm just so fucking mad, but I can't even be mad at her because I get it. I just wish she would talk to me."

"Ethan, I'm gonna need you to elaborate," Grayson says, trying to refrain from rolling his eyes.

"Clover worked for Masquerade, okay? God!"

Ethan's shouting it before he can stop himself, tired of keeping the secret. But his eyes widen as he realizes what he's admitted to his brother.

Grayson coughs as he hears those words, his own eyes widening as well. He barely knew anything about the business, but pretty much every rich guy in LA had heard some whispers.

"Like the escort service?" He splutters.

Ethan bites his lip. "Technically, yeah. But they really don't like, have sex with clients! It's just like-escapism, I guess? I don't know. We just got like, dinner and listened to music and talked. We went to that art museum, and I really liked her! She wasn't supposed to sleep with me, Gray. Fuck, I screwed up bad."

"How much did you pay just to hangout with this girl?" His brother asks slowly.

It wasn't about the money. It was about her.

"I don't know, and I don't care! Gray, I swear she's the best girl I've ever met. And they really don't do anything illegal, most of the time she just talks to guys," Ethan whines, trying to make it make sense for him. "I just wanted to meet someone who didn't know who I was, and I met her. But... but then I fucked it up, because I brought her to New York. She's not allowed to sleep with clients, she could lose her job, so she isn't taking my calls an-"

"Woah, slow down," Grayson urges, shutting up his rambling brother. "I get you liked her but... I don't know. I wish I understood."

Ethan groaned. Grayson wasn't getting it, and he wasn't sure if he could get it through to him. It was a weird situation, one he had taken his time to grow used to.

But he tells him about how he felt after Brittany, about being used by another girl. And how he felt getting to know Clover.

Clover, who had no idea who he was. Who got to know him through him, and respected those boundaries.

"I'm sorry, man," Grayson says quietly. "It's... a little weird, but I think I get where your head was at. I wish I could help, I know you liked her."

Yeah, it was strange his brother had been hanging out with an escort lately. He had no problem with them, but found it odd Ethan would turn to one instead of friends and family-and it's not like he had trouble getting girls. But if she really wasn't doing anything illegal, and she really cared about Ethan, did it matter?

"I-I just wanna hear her voice, Gray."

"Why don't we postpone filming for a little bit?" Grayson offers. He didn't know what else he could do to help.

Ethan nodded, only now remembering what they were supposed to be doing. "Yeah, thanks. I think I'm gonna take a nap or something."

Grayson smiled sadly at his brother as he walked toward his room. He collapsed on his bed and let out a loud groan into his pillow before grabbing his phone.

Clicking on her contact again, he let it ring. Voicemail, again.

The fact that she hadn't even recorded one, so he couldn't even hear her voice that way, fucking hurt. He might even cry.

Clover glanced at her phone as it rang. She silenced it with a frown.

He'd called at least 5 times a day since she left him at the airport. He'd left a voicemail with every call, some more heartbreaking than others.

She zipped up her boots, getting ready to go to work, but pressed play on the new voicemail.

"God... Clover, please talk to me," Ethan pleaded, a bitter chuckle following. "I know you're getting these. Your voicemail isn't full so you've at least been deleting them. But I hope you've listened to some."

She sighed, at least happy to hear his voice, even if it sounded broken. She missed him.

Right now, Clover wanted nothing more than to crawl back to Ethan. She hated that she hurt him, but if she stayed seeing him, she could lose her job.

Masquerade was a job she liked. And sure, Ethan would probably offer to help her with anything she needed, but she didn't want to rely on him. She had money saved, but not enough to sustain herself forever. And she didn't want to get a real job. She'd tried those and she was fucking miserable. She wasn't ready to go back to that.

Clover already owned her condo. She could afford to pay electricity and everything for a while, but eventually she'd need more money.

"Just-come on. Please, I'm begging. Call me once. Just once. I'm so fucking sorry," his voice croaked.

Ethan didn't have anything to be apologizing for. He shouldn't feel the need to, it was the other way around, and hearing him apologize for nothing made her sick. Clover made him go from so, so happy to this.

"No," she whispered to herself. "I'm sorry, Ethan."

A/N

some classic angst

uploading the next chapter right after this one bc it's a littttttle short