It was unusual for Will to go off without his cell phone. The once in a blue moon, maybe when hell freezes over kind of unusual, but there it was. A simple flip phone resting forgotten on the kitchen counter next to a bunch of bananas that were still too green to eat. But he'd been in an awful rush. Something about an important meeting as he crammed a piece of slightly blackened toast into his mouth. He must have overlooked it in his hurry.
Christian stood near the counter, watching the mobile as though it might hop up and totter off after its absent-minded owner. It was sleek, all slim and black, unmarred. Stylish, professional. It gave off just the sort of air Will liked to project himself when in the presence of people who weren't familiar enough with him to know better.
Cautiously, Christian plucked it from the counter top. He turned it over in cool fingers. The digital read-out on the front display said that it was Thurs, July 23, 10:32 AM. Three hours since Will had gone out the front door. He opened the phone and was met with a colourful abstract background, mostly red. The kind of background that comes pre-programmed into the phone. Nothing personal. He pressed the button that would take him into the address book and began scrolling down. There were an awful lot of names. He recognized some of them, people that Will did business with on a regular basis. Others were foreign. He scrolled and scrolled, through Cs, Fs, Js, and Ls. All the way down to where the Ns began. He knew what he was looking for, but would it be there?
Nathan Carlisle. Nigel Waters. Noelle Bradley. And then, at the very end, right before Owen Michaels, was N. M. Not even a name, just letters, but Christian stopped. Highlighted them. Pressed the TALK button and held the phone to his ear with a far-off look on his face.
It was not his phone. It was not his number that would be showing up on the other end, but Will's. It would be a wonder if the call was even answered. But Christian's heart was thumping at a strange pace and his hands tingled and his stomach felt full of unpleasant fluttering. The last time they had seen one another...
Christian was suddenly aware of a man leaning against the counter beside him. He had seen this man before and didn't like him one bit. He talked too much about things Christian didn't care to hear. And the worst of it was that he didn't go away until he felt like it. Christian had so far been unable to discourage the man with any amount of persuasion, physical or otherwise. Too often, his hands went through the man instead of taking hold of him.
His unwanted guest was dressed in a pale green hospital gown and a brown bowler hat, and he smiled as Christian listened to the phone ring.
"If it he picks up, you know it's just because he thinks Will's on the other end," said the man. Christian said nothing, and the phone continued to ring.
"It's Will he wants these days. You know he's forgotten about you, right? Moved on to better things. People who can actually function in society," the man went on.
Christian looked at him, and there was a click at his ear as the other end was picked up. The voice was unhappy, irritated, but familiar.
"What do you want?" it demanded brusquely.
It was a good question. What did he want? He hadn't really thought about that before he'd called. He knew he wanted to hear the voice on the other end. He knew he wanted to see the man it belonged to. There was a sudden tightness in his chest, and the gown-clad man sighed pityingly.
"You don't matter to him now. Don't you think he would've come to see you by now if you meant anything? You were just a burden. He's washed his hands of you!"
Christian felt light-headed. He'd learned long ago not to listen to the man in the hat when he came calling, but there were an awful lot of strange feelings trying to seep out from his heart as he held that phone to his ear.
"Hello?" came the voice again. There was a bite to it. "This is childish, William."
No, not William. Christian, he wanted to say. You remember, he wanted to say. But his voice was comfortable in his throat, hoarding his words like a dragon greedily protects the gold it will never spend.
"I'm hanging up, William."
Christian stood near the counter, watching the mobile as though it might hop up and totter off after its absent-minded owner. It was sleek, all slim and black, unmarred. Stylish, professional. It gave off just the sort of air Will liked to project himself when in the presence of people who weren't familiar enough with him to know better.
Cautiously, Christian plucked it from the counter top. He turned it over in cool fingers. The digital read-out on the front display said that it was Thurs, July 23, 10:32 AM. Three hours since Will had gone out the front door. He opened the phone and was met with a colourful abstract background, mostly red. The kind of background that comes pre-programmed into the phone. Nothing personal. He pressed the button that would take him into the address book and began scrolling down. There were an awful lot of names. He recognized some of them, people that Will did business with on a regular basis. Others were foreign. He scrolled and scrolled, through Cs, Fs, Js, and Ls. All the way down to where the Ns began. He knew what he was looking for, but would it be there?
Nathan Carlisle. Nigel Waters. Noelle Bradley. And then, at the very end, right before Owen Michaels, was N. M. Not even a name, just letters, but Christian stopped. Highlighted them. Pressed the TALK button and held the phone to his ear with a far-off look on his face.
It was not his phone. It was not his number that would be showing up on the other end, but Will's. It would be a wonder if the call was even answered. But Christian's heart was thumping at a strange pace and his hands tingled and his stomach felt full of unpleasant fluttering. The last time they had seen one another...
Christian was suddenly aware of a man leaning against the counter beside him. He had seen this man before and didn't like him one bit. He talked too much about things Christian didn't care to hear. And the worst of it was that he didn't go away until he felt like it. Christian had so far been unable to discourage the man with any amount of persuasion, physical or otherwise. Too often, his hands went through the man instead of taking hold of him.
His unwanted guest was dressed in a pale green hospital gown and a brown bowler hat, and he smiled as Christian listened to the phone ring.
"If it he picks up, you know it's just because he thinks Will's on the other end," said the man. Christian said nothing, and the phone continued to ring.
"It's Will he wants these days. You know he's forgotten about you, right? Moved on to better things. People who can actually function in society," the man went on.
Christian looked at him, and there was a click at his ear as the other end was picked up. The voice was unhappy, irritated, but familiar.
"What do you want?" it demanded brusquely.
It was a good question. What did he want? He hadn't really thought about that before he'd called. He knew he wanted to hear the voice on the other end. He knew he wanted to see the man it belonged to. There was a sudden tightness in his chest, and the gown-clad man sighed pityingly.
"You don't matter to him now. Don't you think he would've come to see you by now if you meant anything? You were just a burden. He's washed his hands of you!"
Christian felt light-headed. He'd learned long ago not to listen to the man in the hat when he came calling, but there were an awful lot of strange feelings trying to seep out from his heart as he held that phone to his ear.
"Hello?" came the voice again. There was a bite to it. "This is childish, William."
No, not William. Christian, he wanted to say. You remember, he wanted to say. But his voice was comfortable in his throat, hoarding his words like a dragon greedily protects the gold it will never spend.
"I'm hanging up, William."
Click.
The man in the hat and the green gown was gone. There was silence on the line, but Christian kept the phone against his ear.
"I miss you," he said finally, and flipped the cell shut.
The man in the hat and the green gown was gone. There was silence on the line, but Christian kept the phone against his ear.
"I miss you," he said finally, and flipped the cell shut.
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