idrismorcos1

570k followers

kingchrisss U fine asff

xnmlex I just realise you where still alive lmao

b.goldden marry me

zsazayngabor What a vampire

Idris goes to a Nylon #YoungHollywood party at Avenue, but he’s bored and thinking about that time he posted how he loves making people who already hate him hate him more and how transparent that was.

Greta is ghosting Idris because of #selfiestickgate, and it’s not like it’s the first time she’s ignored him: they’ve been hot and cold all year. Idris didn’t think things were going to last as long as they have between him and Greta, and he’s been waiting for it to all implode since they got together last summer. Idris’s dad is in real estate development but Idris won’t join the family empire. He’s busy burning bridges.

Idris watches Fortune in his element, posing for photos and telling fans that he doesn’t use a stylist. Fortune’s wearing a rainbow fleece from Jaded London and the shortest shorts ever. His legs are tanned and as shiny as his silver hair, which is up in a topknot. No one really knows anything about Fortune but there are so many rumors. He slept on the beach when he first came to L.A. He’s still homeless. But he’s such a social butterfly that he has a way of attracting luxury accommodation. He crashes on the couch in Idris’s room all the time.

What Idris likes most about Fortune is that he can always tell exactly what Idris is feeling. Like he knows Idris is literally suicidal right now and doesn’t want to be at this party, he’s bored and angsty AF and drinking too fast and he’ll probably need to take some pills if he’s going to get through the night. He’s not even hitting on any of the girls. Fortune knows that Idris is just in one of his moods where nothing is good enough; too much of everything is never good enough. And Fortune doesn’t make it worse by getting mad at Idris for ruining the vibes or whatever; he just adapts to Idris’s mood, and it’s chill. Fortune is soothing, sort of like a cat purring on Idris’s lap.

They ditch the party and drive to Idris’s house in Bel-Air in his classic 1956 Packard Four Hundred painted hot-pink with white and baby-blue stripes. At the house, they go up to Idris’s room and flop down on the couch. They’re lit up by the glow of the TV as they take bong rips and play Fortnite until the sun comes up and they finally fall asleep, Idris’s face buried deep in Fortune’s fleece.