Lucas’ POV
The doorbell wouldn’t stop ringing.
My head wouldn’t stop pounding.
I dragged myself off the couch to go open the door. August stood outside, his glasses catching the morning light.
“What are you doing here?” My voice came out rough.
“Finding you. Which isn’t hard, by the way.”
“How’d you even—”
“I know everywhere, Lucas. Don’t doubt my skills.”
I rubbed at my temple. “What do you want?”
“To remind you that you still have a job. And ghosting your messages isn’t the same thing as quitting.”
“Come in.”
“No need. Get dressed, we’re going to the academy.”
“Now,” he added, voice as sharp as glass.
I sighed. “Fine. Just come in before someone sees you.”
He stepped inside, eyes scanning the place, then grinned.
“Nice chest, by the way.”
I looked down, forgot I was shirtless. “Don’t make things weird.”
“You dragged me in. Weirdness is implied.”
I sighed again, turned towards the bedroom. “Give me five minutes.”
I ended up taking ten. He didn’t say anything until we were walking into the gates of the academy. The air was as sterile as ever.
August followed the trails I knew he would. But something was new.
We got to the library as expected. We passed the history section, then the engineering section, and after, two lefts then three rights.
And with the bend of a book on a shelf, a passage formed. A passage that led to a room too furnished to be a secret.
The room was already occupied. Ali, the twenty-fifth prince of Saudi; Jamal, the representative of Saudi; and Gerald, a royal in Denmark.
Gerald. Gerald was different from the other two who sat around the table. The room had an oval-ish table; it looked like a circle trying to be rectangular. It was deformed. Six chairs were around it, in-built.
Gerald rested on the wall like a guard watching his prisoners. His eyes weren’t open, but he had some sort of watchful presence.
August took his seat and said I should do the same. He had his signature look on—the one that meant he was about to unveil something only he could think up.
“The reason I brought you all here,” he started, “is to talk about my newest project: M3M0.”
Everyone in the room had their eyes on him.
“Anyone want a drink before we start?” August asked, then tapped on his phone. A hole formed in the table in front of each seat. Five cups came up, one for each hole.
“So M3M0?” Jamal asked.
“Oh yeah…” August continued, “built it myself. Every line, every wire. It took months.” Then he paused, sipped his drink, and scanned the room.
“Get to the point, would you?” I said.
“I’m getting there; this needs build-up.” He took another sip of his drink, which in turn made me taste mine. Maybe it had a little bit of alcohol. I missed my morning session, and hiding it was making my throat burn.
Unlucky for me, it was just carbonated.
“It’s simple,” he went on. “A platform where elites post what they know—secrets, evidence, anything worth trading. We verify. If it checks out, they earn points.”
“The rarer the truth, the higher the cost to access it.”
“And if anyone leaks outside the system?” Jamal asked.
August leaned forward. “The system leaks them. Small things first. Enough to make them remember who they are messing with.”
“Everyone has secrets; M3M0 just decides who keeps theirs.”
His gaze moved to me. “We need an event, a big one for the launch.” A small hum from Ali, then I said, “I don’t think I’m in a position to make that happen.”
“We need Romeo,” he said, like he was asking for permission.
“No, we don’t,” Gerald retorted.
I turned. His eyes were open, bloodshot, his face pale. His voice cracked when he spoke again. “We’ll work something out. Without him.”
“No, we won’t,” August said after, too sharp to be something he was saying for the first time. His whole tone always changed when it involved Gerald. “This is important, and Romeo will help. You can’t.”
“He’s the prince of fucking Norway,” Gerald shot back.
“He’s Romeo,” August said simply.
“And Romeo’s a prince who’ll bail the second he gets the chance,” Gerald went on.
August looked at me then, like he was asking me to reassure his chosen comrade.
“I’ll talk to him,” I said.
“Tch.” Gerald looked away.
“I’ll ask him about it after,” August added quietly.
And just like that, the meeting was over.
I said I’d talk to Romeo. That was practically the only reason August had me out.
I sighed as I started thinking up my options. Talk to Romeo, or get a drink? The drink pulled me in more, but I ended up deciding to face what I’d been avoiding, who I’d been avoiding.
The truth was, I couldn’t ignore Romeo forever. So I opened my phone. And went to our chats.
They were archived since the night on the island. I didn’t want to know the kind of messages he sent, but I knew he had already sent some.
Predictable little Romeo.
R: Hey Luc.
R: Uhm, can we talk?
R: Please.
R: I’m sorry about what I did.
R: But I want you to hear me out.
R: Can I at least know what you’re thinking?
R: Please reply or view.
And that was it.
All on different days.
L: Meet me by the lake at three.
And the fact that he did gave me all the answers I needed.
I got there a few minutes before three. He stood with his hands in his pockets, that changed the moment he noticed me.
“Hey… Lucas.” Lucas. Been a while since he called me that. He was thinking. Rare of Romeo, but a plus.
“Hey.” I wanted him to say something tangible first, so I’d know where to start from. Judging by the silence, he wanted the same.
“How’ve you been?” His hands scratching behind his head. He was always fidgety when he was nervous.
“I’ve been well.”
“That’s good,” he said, then he took his hand back down. “I’m really sorry about what I did.”
I looked at him, not really bothering to give him the benefit of the doubt. “How long ago did it start?”
“A few months back.”
“How many?”
“Four.”
Four months of lying. Four months of hiding. Four whole months, and I didn’t notice.
“Must have been nice.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—”
“But you chose it too.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Do you love her?”
He went silent.
“Yes, I do.”
“Then that’s that,” I said. “I took some time to think about it, and it’s not like she and I had anything going on. But if you two would, then it’s alright.”
He held his arm with his head down. “I’m very dumb and slow. I make a lot of mistakes, and you’re always there to help me, to fix them. I should have told you about it when it started. I should have told you how I felt, but I didn’t, and I can’t blame anyone but myself. I’m sorry, Lucas. I’m so sorry.”
“There’s no need to be sorry. It’s fine,” I said.
“It’s all good now.” I patted his shoulder.
“Don’t let guilt eat you up. We’re good.”
“I—Why?” he asked, like I was meant to hate him.
“Because you’re Romeo and I’m Lucas. And whatever you do, I’ll always be here.”
He looked around, eyes watering up, the same way it did when we were kids. “Thank you, Lucas.”
“Sure. What are friends for?”
Friends. We were friends.
I bid him farewell soon after, told him I had something else to do. The something else was what I’d been trying to get at since I woke up.
The edge I could only get from alcohol.
And with that edge came the whiteness from the roof of my condo and the blackness from falling asleep.
I woke up to the darkness of my own home not long after. Maybe long after. What was time to a drunk?
The day was long, longer than most, and after everything, all I could imagine was how different I would feel if Nicholas was there.
I didn’t know if I was dreaming, or if I had really good luck, because immediately after I let the thought settle, I heard the beep of the code being pressed in.
His scent was the first thing I noticed when he sat beside me. It was too strong, too him, to be a dream. I wanted to hold him close, maybe sniff him till I fell asleep again. But I didn’t move. I asked, “How’d you get in?” instead. I didn’t tell him the code.
“You showed me the code.” Or maybe I did when I was drunk.
I sat, my elbows on my thighs, my palms held to my forehead, facing down.
He did that thing he normally did when I got drunk. His hand on my nape, caressing it.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Does it look like something happened?”
My palms left my forehead and I sat almost up. His hand left my nape. I missed it immediately after.
“You’re drinking.”
“I drink every day.”
“Not like this. Are you okay?”
“I am, now that you’re here.” I smiled.
He guided me down slowly, my head on his thigh. He placed his hand above my forehead and put back some strands of my hair.
I placed my palm above his. I felt safe. I felt like I had something to hold onto. Someone to hold onto.
We stayed there in silence, silence I didn’t want to let go of.
So I did what calmed me to no end. I only thought about him. And he stayed with me; his warmth was there till I fell asleep again.
A sleep I hoped I wouldn’t wake up from.
ns216.73.216.141da2
and then Add to home screen.