Jay's Loelife - 10. Rebranded

chapter
ten
jay

I’ve always enjoyed the media. I’ve been good to them, giving them lots of quotable material and, in return, they’ve always been good to me. The downfall to having such a good rapport is that I’m sacrificed to the media after big losses. The organization knows that I represent well. Unlike some of my teammates who pout, grumble, or walk away from interviews all together, I make myself, general sportsmanship, and the team look good.

“What are your thoughts on the Almos’ taunting penalty?”

I intertwine my fingers and take a breath. This is the fifth question on the taunting call. “Was Marcus excited about his touchdown? Yes, absolutely. As he should be. It was a great play and one that would have clinched the game for us. Do I think he was taunting? No. I’ve never known him to do that. I think his excitement bubbled over. Taunting calls are hard. When they favor you, it’s victory. When they set you back, as this one did, it’s very frustrating and feels unfair.”

“What are you going to do now? Big plans for the off season?”

I smile to myself. Yes, big plans. Very, very big plans.

****

The plane ride is quiet.

It was a hard loss. Marcus hasn’t lifted his head since we left the locker room. We’ve mostly left him alone. There is nothing we can do but give him time. In a few days, we’ll swing by with a case of beer and some food.

I fidget with my phone. Instead of texting Loren, I unlock it and stare at his smile on my home screen. He didn’t make the game.

‘I don’t know shit about football. I’d rather watch it at home with the guys than take a seat from someone who waited their whole life to be at that stadium.’

I sigh like the lovesick fool I am. He’s so wonderful and generous. Who else would give up their spot at the Superbowl?

It’s been a long week apart and I miss him like crazy. I’m anxious to see him. The protective side of me was ready to tell the team to fuck off because I wasn’t leaving him a few short days after learning of his terrible horrible, awful past. There was still so much residual emotion and it felt like I was abandoning him. He rolled his eyes when I told him I wasn’t leaving him, that I wasn’t getting on the plane.

He was smiling when he dropped me off. He probably got off knowing it was killing me to leave him, but he sure didn’t have a problem calling Marcus and Garrett over to drag me away kicking and screaming.

The plane can’t land soon enough. I can’t wait to get back to him. The overwhelming need to know he’s okay is clawing me from the inside.

There is also the small detail that we’ll be having sex now that the season is over. That’s playing a big part, too.

The suit they make us wear while traveling feels constricting in a way it never has before. I can’t wait to get it off, or maybe have Loren take it off for me.

It’s all very conflicting.

****

Water drips onto my shoulder, leaving dark spots on my shirt. I press my palms on the counter and stare at my reflection. Loren is on his way. He’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. I take a deep breath. Am I under dressed? I don’t think I need a suit and tie but sleepwear is too casual, even if it is from Loren’s line. Jeans seem like a pain and khakis have very little give should we end up with our clothes on for a while.

Will we get straight to business or hangout for a bit?

Is he expecting me to have dinner ready? Because I don’t. I have a few prepped meals or I can have something delivered.

When he gets here, should I attack him? Rip his clothes off and ravage him? Or take it slow?

I slap my face. This is embarrassing. I haven’t over thought sex like this since I was in highschool.

I comb my hair then mess it up because I don’t want to look too eager. The bulge in my pants kind of gives that away. It wouldn’t be a terrible idea to rub one out real quick. It would only take a minute.

Ugh. But that would take away from the experience.

That’s enough, Jay!

I step back from the mirror and take a breath. It’s just sex.

I jump when the doorbell rings and my heart rate spikes through the damn roof. I head to the landing and exhale slowly. “It’s open,” I shout casually, like it’s no big deal. Maybe it’s the UPS man, maybe its Loren coming to have sex.

When the bell rings again, I jog down the stairs in case his hands are full, but Loren’s not holding anything at all, he’s just standing there looking like a fresh piece of meat with a fuck-me haircut, fitted jeans, and a tight jersey with my number on it.

He looks up at me and grins. “Ohmygod, it’s Jay Petermeyer.” He swoons, the back of his hand on his forehead and—southern accent? He bats his big, innocent brown eyes. “I am such a big fan.”

I try not to laugh. “What are you doing?”

“I hope it’s okay that I followed you home. I know it’s not exactly proper but I thought maybe I could come in and…” he flutters his lashes. I open the door and his hand grazes my chest as he breezes by. He looks around the house in awe. “Your home is sooo beautiful.” When he’s done looking, he turns to me and pouts and runs his hands over my chest. “You must be stressed after a hard loss like that. I bet I could find a way to help you out. If you’d like. I’m sure you get propositioned all the time but, don’t worry, I’m real discreet. You just relax now, no one will ever know.” His eyelashes flutter again, ridiculously over exaggerated this time

As dorky as he’s being, it’s doing it for me. Loren drops to his knees and pulls my pants down until my dick is freed. His tongue licks from the base to the tip, swirling the thick head like an oversized lollipop.

Loren, on his knees, in my jersey, sucking my dick. Fuuuuuck. I lose my damn mind.

I reach out and touch his hair, his neck, and run them across his shoulders. He squeezes my ass, forcing me deeper in his mouth. The jersey hugs his shoulders and biceps like a wet dream.

He looks at me and, with his lips stretched around my cock, he smiles. Then he bobs his head, swirling his tongue around me. I hold his head, feeling him move up and down.

“Oh damn,” I moan. “That feels good.”

Loren pulls off with a pop and frowns. “Just good?”

I breathe hard.

He pulls my pants all the way down and I step out of them. Then he stands up, running his hands up my body as he goes, catching the hem of my shirt and pulling off.

“If I suck you until you cum, can you get hard again?”

“I can stay hard,” I promise him, practically panting. “Won’t go soft.”

He pushes me back on the sectional, drops to his knees, and takes me back in his mouth. He’s on a mission and it’s one I very much approve of.

I watch with hooded eyes. “I like you like this, on your knees for me.”

He explores my abs while he takes me as deep as he can.

“Now that you have my dick in your mouth, are you going to drink it?” I ask. “Is that why you came here today? Because you want to taste me?”

He nods, his eyes dark with heat.

“If you keep going like that, looking like a slut for me, then you’re gonna get it in a minute.”

He takes the challenge. I feel the slow boil swirl deep in my belly, tightening my balls almost painfully. I grip his hair and cry as I cum in his mouth for the first time. Only then does he slow down, making sure he gets all of it.

He slides up my body and kisses me. “You’re still hard,” he says, pinning said hardness under his tummy.

“Impossible to go soft around you,” I say, pulling him tighter so I can kiss him properly.

He doesn’t get to have all the fun.

I make him stand and slide my hands under my jersey, pushing the fabric up and over his abs. He’s got every mouth-watering muscle a man could dream up. The jeans hug his ass perfectly. The waistband is a little loose, showing off just how fit he is. I move my fingers along the ridge of the fabric until they reach the fly. I pop it open.

His stomach clenches. I glance up. His eyes are closed and his breaths are short and labored. I open his pants up all the way and yank them down.

Perfection. Not that I expected anything less. Not with Loren.

My lips trail down his stomach, pelvis, to the base of his dick before taking him in my mouth and oh-so-slowly giving back what I was given.

Loren moans as I work him over. “As hot as it would be to have Jay Petermeyer swallow me, I was hoping to cum with your dick in my ass. If you’d be so willing,” he says with a fading southern accent.

I can work with that.

I slide my fingers between his cheeks and pause. I blink, at first not comprehending, then wide eyed as I look up.

He shrugs. “I was hopeful.”

I press the flat plastic end of the plug, eliciting a yummy sound from Loren. He means business, so, I get down to business. I give him the best blow job I can muster before dragging him upstairs to my room.

“Ohmygod, Jay Petermeyer is taking me upstairs. I wonder what we’re doing up here?”

I look back and laugh. “Stop.”

He doesn’t. “Ohmygod. It’s Jay Petermeyer’s bedroom.” His pants are still undone and wrapped around his thighs. He steps out of them and starts to take off the jersey.

I grab his hand. “Stop.” I spin him around and bend him over the bed so the only thing I see is his ass just below my jersey. I run my fingers down his back and over his cheeks. I land on the plug. “I like this.” I pull until it resists, then I pull some more. Loren spreads his legs and lowers himself to his shoulders.

“Holy shit,” I say. The plug is big. A lot fatter than I expected. “You weren’t messing around.”

Loren licks his lips. “I didn’t want to waste time on formalities.”

I remove the plug completely and set it on the nightstand. “I like the formalities.”

“Even still, you should go slow. It’s been a while since I’ve...and if you want to take me bare…”

We’ve both been tested a couple of times since our encounters with other people. Bareback has been implied but not explicitly detailed.

I slather the lube, line myself up, and press until the tip is in, then lean forward until my lips next to his ear. “How long?”

“Oh, you know,” he says casually but his voice cracks as I inch further. “A while. A couple of years.”

“How many years, exactly?” I start to feel some resistance so I ease up, back up, then press forward again.

Loren’s breath hitches and he drops his head forward. His arms are barely keeping him up. “Five, six? I don’t know. Maybe eight.”

I start to move inside him. It's everything and more. He’s hot and tight and made for me. He lets me lead for a while, thrusting in and out of him like a man abandoned before he makes me pull out.

“On your back,” he demands. He turns around and swings one leg over me and sinks down.

“I had a poster of you on my wall when I was in high school,” he says with an accent. “My number was 99 also.”

I laugh again at his little role play. “You played football?”

“For sure. Yeah.” He puts his palms on my chest and starts riding me. “Loved playing football.”

“What position?”

Loren cracks a smile. “You know, the position where they, erm, you know, the corner-thrower?”

“The corner-thrower?”

“Yeah, the corner-thrower lineblocker?”

“Wow, the corner-thrower lineblocker is a very important position. I bet you were scouted by all the colleges.”

To shut me up, Loren starts riding me harder. Sweat builds along his hairline. He’s close. Hell, I’m close. I reach between us and touch him.

“Oh shit,” he yells. “Oh shit. I’m gonna cum.” He moves erratically and frantically as he searches for his own pleasure on my dick. His ass is like a vice grip and I feel him spasm. Once he cums, I roll us over and thrust until I cum deep inside him.

I keep his legs hiked up around my waist and pepper his face with kisses. “I love you,” I say. “I love you so much. And thank you. I spent most of the day overthinking this.”

He rubs the back of my neck and smiles. “I knew you were. I’ve never done that for anyone and I felt like a fucking moron. So, you’re welcome.”

I reach down and squeeze his ass and kiss more of his neck. I can’t get enough of him. “You were so hot.”

“I knew you had a thing for cleat chasers.”

“No, but I clearly have a thing for you pretending to be a cleat chaser. I feel bad though, I planned for this to be a lot more romantic and less down and dirty.”

“Eh, that never works out anyways. You can’t take these things too seriously. The sex was good, was it not?” he asks.

“Mind blowing.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem.”

I frown when Loren tosses the jersey across the room, I quite like him in it, but smile when he turns and smothers me with his body. He smiles at me for a long moment before kissing me. We make out for a while, which inevitably leads to more. An hour later our heads are facing opposite ends of the bed and we’re panting.

****

We’re nowhere near twenty-five orgasms but we need to refuel anyway.

“I have an idea on how to officially announce us," he says with a small, seductive but gorgeous smile. He’s shirtless with boxers riding low. It could be all the sex clouding my judgement but Loren is the hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s unreal.

I lick my lips. Screw a late dinner, I’m ready to do my part in reaching twenty-five orgasms. “I thought people were already guessing.”

“They don’t know for sure. Anyway, back to my idea. It’s hard to explain. Basically—” Loren stands so we’re chest to chest and smiles when he feels just how ready I am. Ignoring what's pressed against his stomach, he moves one of my hands so it’s framing his ass. “I’ll be wearing your jersey. The other hand will grab the back so it rides up a little, showing a few inches of my lower back. I’ll—” he puts his arms around my neck and grins. “The shot will be facing you, so my back will be to the camera, showing off your jersey. Does that make sense?”

It makes total sense and I already know I want a giant one framed in the house.

“What if I wear that quilted quarter button you’re designing for your next drop? The one with your logo across the bicep?”

Loren’s eyes light up. “That’s perfect. I’ll be wearing your jersey and you’ll be wearing my sweater.”

He might’ve been slow to start off the line but this vision is far more than just a picture of us together. If he knows it or not, it’s a serious commitment. I find commitment very attractive…

“Jay.” Loren’s mouth drops and he presses his hand to his chest in shock. “Is that—”

I grab his legs, lift him onto the island, and tear his boxers off. He leans back, resting his arms behind him as he watches me go down on him. When I finish, he drags me back to the bedroom and returns the favor.

****

It’s dark, only the softest light is peaking over the mountain when Loren’s alarm goes off. I roll on top of him. He groans, not quite ready to get up. I like this new view. Sleepy Loren might be my favorite. I kiss his messy brown hair, sleepy forehead, his wrinkled cheek, and his warm neck. Hmm, smells good.

He smiles soft and sweet, loving the attention.

“Good morning,” I tell him, kissing and nibbling him to pieces.

“Mornin’.”

I nudge his legs apart and settle into a familiar position. He smiles again, still not opening his eyes. “Ready so soon?”

“Isn’t that why your alarm went off?”

He chuckles softly and pulls me against him so we’re cuddling. “I need to work out.”

I press against him, my erection sliding between his cheeks. “What I have in mind is definitely a workout.”

“You’ll let me film that? And post it online?”

I growl. That would happen over my dead body.

Loren laughs and runs his fingers through my hair. “I do have to workout though. It’s part of my schedule. Meet me at my house later and we can work on that picture.”

He pushes me off him and rolls out of bed.

I pout. “Less than twelve hours of being naked together and you’re already telling me no.”

He looks over his shoulder and winks then struts to the bathroom. I scramble out of bed and follow. It is now my job to make sure he is thoroughly clean from head to toe. A job I take very seriously.

Once he leaves for the gym, only a little later than he planned, I go to the headquarters. Might as well get everything signed off. I meet with the doctor, the coach, and the manager, then clean out my locker and head straight to Puyallup. I have a couple bags packed. My only plan for this offseason, besides some endorsements and a few other things my manager has set up, is to be available to Loren in whatever way he needs me.

****

Five or six cars line his driveway. No surprise, his house is busy. I wonder if his neighbors know what he does or if they think he’s a drug dealer. That thought amuses me.

The inside of his house is buzzing. Music blasting, cameras and lighting everywhere, a dozen people making sure things are just perfect. I love watching Loren work. I wasn’t able to see much of it during the season, only a peek here and there. Now I get to watch all the action. And apparently, be a part of the action.

Corey hands me a pile of clothes. “Put these on then go stand over there. Ruby will take care of the rest.”

I do as I’m told. Loren also changes, right in the middle of the room. In front of everyone. He slides into the finest jeans I’ve ever seen him wear and the same jersey he wore yesterday. Next thing I know, we’re in front of a white screen and my hands are all over his muscled backside. I’m gripping his ass and tugging on his jersey like I can’t get him close enough. Which is exactly how I feel. We only just started exploring each other so I don’t need much prompting or pretending.

“Jay, bite your lip,” the director orders. “Breath him in. Hooded eyes. Look at the camera. Look away. Bite his ear, good. Tug it with your teeth. Loren, tilt your—perfect.”

I laugh, of course Loren needs very little instruction.

When we look at the proofs, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that I’m turned on. I can’t look anyone in the eyes, but I can admit the photos are good.

Loren can’t take his eyes off of them.

After everyone leaves and the house is quiet, Loren is still holding the iPad and looking at the photos. There’s one in particular that he’s drawn to. Personally, I think I’m gripping his ass a little too hard but he says that’s a draw point. I also think I look a little too sexed up.

“My hair looks like we just fucked.” Truth be told, the way he’s gripping my hair with one hand and clawing my shoulder with the other, makes it look like we’re in the middle of fucking. It’s one of the hottest photos I’ve ever seen in my life. I just don’t want anyone else to see it.

Loren flips through the photos until he lands on one he’s favorited. It’s similar to the one he’d been staring at but less erotic. I think it was taken at the beginning of the shoot before we started mauling each other.

“I get it. You win.”

I get it. You win.

Yikes. Those could be construed as fighting words but he doesn’t seem angry or upset so really have no clue what’s going on. With Loren’s childhood revelation so fresh, I’m prepared for anything, including Loren picking fights over ‘nothing’ just to test me, to see if I will walk away. He can try all he wants, it won’t work.

I take a breath. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“What you said about being fully clothed out of respect for your future husband. I get it. I look at the other photo and I get…” His jaw ticks and I try not to smile. “You don’t have to be so smug about it.”

“Finish what you were saying. You get…?”

“Possessive, territorial, angry,” he lists. “I don’t want anyone to see you like that.”

“No one does but you.”

He frowns. “And that makes me feel guilty because you’ve been good. No one else gets to see you like this. Me on the other hand…” he picks up his phone and thumbs through his account. “I feel like I should delete everything I’ve ever posted online.”

I take the phone from him and set it down. “I don’t want you to do that. The past is an important part of everyone’s story. Just because you delete it doesn’t make it go away. You have eight-thousand memories there. You really want to erase all those?”

“Kind of,” he says with a little fire in his eyes. “What’s the point of keeping them if you won’t look at them because they upset you? If I can’t share my past with you, then why share it with anyone?”

I grab his phone and drag him to his room. I take my clothes off and tell him to do the same. In bed, I pull the blankets back and motion for him to join me. He watches suspiciously but crawls in anyway. Once we’re under the blankets, I hand him his phone. “Show me.”

The corner of his lip curls. “And we have to be naked for this?”

“Looking at half naked photos of you doing creative things is going to be a real turn on for me.” I run my hand down his body and cup his crotch. “It might help if I get to touch what other people can only see.”

Loren spreads his legs as he pulls the app up. “Should we start from the beginning or go backwards?”

****

Having full access to his body while he shows me things he’s done over the years really helps take the edge off. Sure, he’s gorgeous, but he’s also incredibly smart and talented. I’m beyond impressed by his accomplishments.

“What about this one?” I ask. I turn him over on his belly with a pillow under his hips. I settle between his delicious mounds, which are currently being shown off in a black and white photo and a jock strap. He’s standing in the doorway of his bedroom, looking over his shoulder at the camera.

Loren’s not even looking at the phone, his forehead is buried in the mattress. I turn his head to the side and show him the photo again.

He groans and presses back against me. “We can probably delete that one.”

I take a screenshot because yum, click the three dots, and delete. There’s been a few particularly racy photos with no real content that we’ve said goodbye to.

Loren presses back again, rubbing his thick ass against me. “Can you get the lube already?”

I rock against him but otherwise keep scrolling. He has a lot of photos. We’re not even halfway through. I know a lot of people think influencers are a waste of breath and maybe some of them are, but Loren’s one of the originals. All the way back when YouTube took off. From there it melted over to his blog, Instagram, Tumblr, etc. He’s humble about it, doesn’t talk much about the enormity of it all, but the man has a social empire.

“You’re the perfect man,” I tell him. Part of the process of building the empire the way he has—an empire that requires frequent adaptation—means he’s dabbled in everything. “In ten pictures you’ve shown your prowess in the gym, in the kitchen, under the hood of a truck, rock-climbing, cleaning, photography, videography, and fashion. Is there anything you don’t know how to do?”

“Um, I don’t know shit about football,” he growls. Loren’s still working hard to get me to penetrate him. It’s hot, feeling him so desperate under me. “Or getting you to fuck me, apparently.”

I take his earlobe between my teeth and run my tongue along it. “You’ve been wanting me to look at your stuff for months. Why the change of heart?”

A warning growl emanates from below me. “Did you see the series where I got wrestling lessons from Kyle Snyder? It wasn’t that long ago. I haven’t forgotten what he taught me.”

“I don’t know who that is but it sounds like a threat.”

It is.

Although I considered our position to be rather sexy, with him rutting back against me. It’s also a fairly common position in wrestling. I will say this, I may have seven inches and at least a hundred pounds on Loren, but not a single one of his muscles is for looks.

He moves like a cat and suddenly I’m flipped around and pinned on my back with one leg in the air. I actually feel dizzy. He has a knee on my shoulder, putting pressure on an old injury. He realizes it and quickly lets off. He lowers his face to mine and grins between heavy breaths. “Kyle Snyder is a freestyle wrestler. The youngest Olympic Gold medalist and World Champion.”

Have I mentioned how hot my boyfriend is?

I’m panting when he finally lets my leg down. I retaliate. Loren puts up a good fight, but in the end, I have him pinned in our original position. I’m not egotistical enough to think I won by my own accord. Not after the way he tossed me around. Loren’s pinned because he wants to be pinned.

I reach under the pillow and grab the bottle stashed there. “And you can kick my ass.” I purr as I slide my finger in him. “You really are the perfect man.”

He’s patient while I get him ready. Once I breach him, he goes a little crazy. It’s time to fuck. Plain and simple. Fifteen minutes later we’re laid out on the bed, panting like we had to run sprinting drills.

I turn and stretch on top of him, listening to the drumming of his heart. “When do you think you’ll post about us?”

“I thought we could talk about that tonight. I have an idea—”

“Another idea, huh?”

“You know this creative mind is always workin’,” he says. I feel him grin into the top of my head. “Remember when we talked about doing a vacation when the season ended?”

“It was less than two weeks ago. I remember.”

“I’m supposed to auction the trailer off in two weeks but I was thinking you and I could take it on a road trip first. I’d like to post some teasers before we drop the photo. Once it’s official, the road trip will be our first big thing as a couple.”

“Ahh. Our private, beach side vacation will now be a work-cation.”

“Even if we do a private-beach side situation, I’ll still be working. And I love camping. I do it every year. It’s something I’d like to do with you.”

I can’t say no to Loren, not when he’s wanting to share the things he loves with me. As nice as a relaxing vacation sounds, a road trip could be fun, too. In fact, at the moment, nothing sounds better.

Loren spends the next hour telling me his plan. Two weeks. He wants to drive south then loop around and head north, hit some of the national parks. A few places for rock-climbing. He even has a plan to include his followers; a few giveaways and a campout dinner hosted by us.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks. “If you really want a hideaway vacation…”

“Honestly? You wanting to include me in this part of your life is better than any private island vacation. I’m stoked for this.”

****

Loren posts one teaser photo each day leading up to our official announcement. It’s clever and the engagement from his followers is huge. The buildup to the reveal makes national news.

I don’t want to toot my own horn but I’m pretty creative, too. I suggest a photo of us playing Stratego. Surprise flashes in Loren’s eyes when I bring the box to the kitchen. It’s dirty and a little stained after finding it in the trash a few weeks ago.

He avoids eye contact.

I set the game up and Loren takes the picture. His game pieces are in focus but the background, including me from the neck down with my arms crossed, is blurred out.

The picture gets so much traction the game sells out on Amazon.

His favorite teaser post is the one just before the actual reveal. It’s of him in that stupid sweatshirt he and Matt wore during the championship game, the one that says I just hope both teams have fun. He’s wearing a Seahawks hat with a Steelers throw laying over his lap and he’s eating a bowl of popcorn.

My brothers play for the Steelers.

“I need to be neutral,” he says, which also happens to be the gist of the caption.

“No, you don’t need to be neutral. In fact, I must insist that you’re not. It’s already two against one. I need people on my side.”

By this point, I’m getting calls and so is my agent. Everyone knows it’s me. Regardless, when the official photo drops, it explodes. The caption says: Rebranded

imogene_arant: I told you @cynthiamd83!! I knew it when he went to the championship game.
84Mags: This is dope.
topnotch: I did not see this coming but I couldn’t be happier!!!!!
pickalane: Congrats!

There are some terrible comments, too. Trolls will troll regardless of your sexual orientation. Ruby deletes those as fast as possible. No one wants to give that kind of hate a platform.

For the most part, it’s nothing but love, some jealousy, and a lot of shock. Though I’ve had a couple semi serious relationships in the past, it’s been a while.

Loren, although open about his sexuality, has never once posted about another guy.

David stops by. It’s the first time he and Loren meet. They shake hands and David congratulates us but he’s here for business.

“I have a lot of interview requests. Lots of publications who would love to do a cover with both of you.”

Loren and I look at each other. We knew this would be part of the deal. Loren pulls out a card and gives it to David.

“This is Corey’s number. Maybe the four of us could schedule a sit down and go over the options.”

David takes the card and puts the contact info directly into his phone. “Sounds good.”

Before he leaves, I ask, “Who are some of the publications?”

“Several, but…” David looks at us and grins. “Sports Illustrated is one of them.”

That takes my breath away. I can’t breathe. I’ve done a lot of spreads and been on the cover of several magazines, but Sports Illustrated has never been one of them. They’ve done LGBTQ+ covers before but not on a couple. Putting Loren and I on the cover would be a big deal. A big fucking deal.