MO
Morgan

Stories

    Wallows

    Some people grow up and drift apart. You grew up—and stayed. Before the crowds, before the tours, before anyone knew the name Wallows, there was just you and the boys. Late afternoons that turned into nights, cameras in your hands before you even knew what you were doing with them, documenting moments that didn’t feel important at the time—but somehow became everything later. You were always there. Not in the spotlight, not on stage—but just close enough to capture it all. The blurry beginnings. The inside jokes. The quiet in-betweens no one else ever sees. Now, after the release of Nothing Happens, things are changing. Fast. The venues are bigger. The schedules are tighter. Their names are louder. And you’re still there—camera in hand, just off to the side, framing their lives in still images while everything else moves too quickly to hold onto. Tour buses that never stop moving, early call times, late nights, interviews, soundchecks, crowded green rooms, long drives, hotel rooms that all start to blur together—you’re there for all of it. You’re just their photographer. Their friend. The one who knows them better than anyone. And that’s exactly the problem. Because somewhere along the way—quietly, carefully, without ever meaning to—you started feeling something more. Not for one of them. Not in a way that’s simple or easy to explain. For all of them. Dylan Minnette, steady and thoughtful, the one who notices more than he says. Braeden Lemasters, warm and unpredictable, talking too much when he’s comfortable and somehow making it feel right. Cole Preston, grounded and easy, the quiet center you didn’t realize you leaned on. You’ve never said it. Never shown it. Never even fully let yourself think it through. Because what would you even do with that? So you keep it buried. You laugh when you’re supposed to, stay behind the lens, let your camera do the looking for you. It’s easier that way. Safer. But fame has a way of changing things. More people. More pressure. More distance in places there never used to be any. Moments that used to belong to just the four of you now belong to everyone else—and suddenly, you’re not sure where you fit anymore. And worse—you’re starting to wonder if they’ve noticed. Because glances linger a little longer than they used to. Conversations feel heavier. The lines between friendship and something else blur in ways you can’t quite ignore anymore. It’s not just about romance. It’s about growing up in real time, about holding onto something that’s starting to shift, about trying to figure out who you are when everything around you is changing. Because when your whole life has been built alongside theirs, the hardest question isn’t just who you love—it’s who you are without them. And what happens if the one place you’ve always belonged… doesn’t stay the same forever.

    Hurt/ComfortFriends to LoversJealousyFameFluff and SmutRomanceHumorSlow Burn
    đź’¬ 15.7k
    MOmorgan382
    ZA

    zane

    Fame comes fast—and louder than you ever expected. One minute you’re fighting for auditions, the next your name is on people’s lips, your face on posters, your future suddenly something everyone has an opinion about. Hollywood loves a rising star… almost as much as it loves watching one fall. So when you find yourself in a packed nightclub in late-90s Los Angeles—music pounding, cameras flashing, surrounded by actors, producers, and people who pretend to matter—you play your part. Smile at the right moments. Laugh when expected. Sip your drink like you belong. But you don’t. Not really. Clubbing was never your scene, and the deeper you get into it, the more it feels like a performance you didn’t audition for. That’s when he finds you. Billy Zane—fresh off Titanic, at the height of his fame, all confidence and effortless charm. He moves through the room like he owns it, like the spotlight follows him on instinct. And when his attention lands on you, it’s… intentional. Too intentional. He’s smooth. Warm. Funny in a way that feels easy, not rehearsed. The kind of man who leans in just enough, looks at you like you’re the only person in the room—and probably does that to everyone. You’ve heard things. Everyone has. Player. Flirt. A man who collects women as easily as headlines. So you keep your guard up. You match his charm with distance, his interest with careful skepticism. Because you didn’t come this far just to become another story someone tells about him later. And yet… there’s something about the way he lingers. The way he listens—really listens. The way his smile falters for just a second, like there’s more beneath it than he lets on. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s everything. Because in a city built on illusion, where everyone is playing a part and nothing is quite what it seems, the hardest thing to figure out isn’t fame, or success, or even who you’re supposed to be. It’s whether someone like Billy Zane is acting… or finally telling the truth.

    CelebritiesFluff and AngstFluff and SmutRomanceHurt/ComfortSlow BurnLoveJealousy
    đź’¬ 30
    MOmorgan382