The rain was coming down heavily outside but unlike earlier, it was creating a soothing, melodious sound as it beat against the windows. Lucien always hated the rain, but right now it was an exception. It’s turning out to be the perfect evening.
His legs felt like jelly as Pyewacket held him close. He could feel his heart fluttering beneath the hand he held over his pulsating member, the thin fabric of his boxer shorts the only barrier between them.
He brought his head close, resting his forehead on Pyewacket’s. They could feel each other’s breath on their faces.
“Get on with it, Pye,” Lucien coaxed, his voice turning raspy.
Pyewacket’s chest rose and fell as he drew in a breath. Lucien gazed down at his bulge, spying the head of his engorged shaft peeking out the waistband of his boxers.
“God, Pye, you’re impossibly big.” He drew out a sheepish chuckle. The urge to touch and explore him was getting harder and harder to ignore. Slowly, he trailed his hand into Pyewacket’s boxers and gripped his member. He was already hard as steel. He then pulled his boxers down and started to massage him down there. The view of his underwear around his ankle was oddly sexy.
Pyewacket let his mouth fall open, taking sharp and shallow breaths as Lucien lightly caressed his hand up and down his shaft a few times. Every nerve in his body seemed electrified.
All of a sudden, it was too much. He didn’t want anything between them. It was a primitive desire more powerful than sensibility. He dug a hand inside Lucien’s boxer shorts and wrapped his penis tightly around his hand.
Lucien’s head fell back as he let out a soft moan.
“Please tell me if you don’t like it. I will stop right away,” Pyewacket muttered nervously, as he stroked his master with a feathery touch. With his index finger, he smoothed a drop of precum over the soft head of his penis, playfully circulating over the slit.
Lucien bowed his head, so Pyewacket couldn’t see whether or not he was gratified. But he told him in other ways. Lucien’s hand stopped stroking him, fingers clenching and then releasing. His body shuddered once, twice, and then he started pumping him again.
Pyewacket interlocked his fingers around Lucien’s shaft, placing the pad of his thumb on his frenulum. He must have hit a sweet spot because when he pressed firmly and massaged small circles onto it, Lucien’s hand moved against his member, shuddering down to his toes. Right then, as his body began to tense, Pyewacket’s hand understood and slowed itself down.
“F – Fuck, what was that? What did you do?” Lucien cried out, chills running over his body. ”Shit, that felt good.”
Pyewacket’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. Who else would know their way around a man’s body, than a man himself? He was more than willing to be complaisant.
He reached for Lucien’s hand and pressed it back onto his erection. Lucien’s fingers responded as they once again closed around his member, feeling the throbbing against his palm. He placed one hand at the base and gripped it firmly. And as he started to move that hand towards his head, he placed his other hand right on the base to follow it up. As the other hand reached the top, he started again, both hands constantly stroking Pyewacket.
This nearly drove Pyewacket up the wall. He gasped, his lips parted, but he didn’t take his eyes off what Lucien was doing to him. They moved as one, completely forgetting all their inhibitions. It was hard to keep their breaths under control. It was even harder to think at all.
Pyewacket began stroking Lucien harder and faster.
“Just like that. Don’t stop.” Lucien begged. “I’m close. So close.” He arched his back, sucked a deep breath through his teeth.
But his breaths were not the only thing that filled the room. Pyewacket’s breathing matched his own. His skin glistened from the sweat that built on his face and neck, tiny droplets slowly making their way down his chest and soaking into his shirt. As he gazed down, he could see Lucien’s orgasm as it rippled in his abdomen. He tightened his hold and worked Lucien’s throbbing member.
“F – Fuck!”
Just as Pyewacket settled his thumb around the head of his penis, Lucien ejaculated so intensely that it came in long arching lines over his chest and belly, and on Pyewacket’s hand.
Lucien went rigid as he put a hand over his mouth to hide his moans. He was so completely turned on but was too afraid to make sounds. He collapsed and slumped on the couch, trying to catch his breath.
After several seconds, Pyewacket’s ragged breathing suggested that he was close to coming. He could feel the pressure mounting, and his hand – moist from Lucien’s semen – moved rapidly up and down his shaft, squeezing as tightly as he could.
“I’m – I’m coming –!” he wheezed out hoarsely. He hunched over Lucien as he worked on his penis, bracing for a potent release. A series of shivers ripped through him as his member jerked and, a second later, he came, bursting against Lucien’s belly and his own skin. The pleasure was so intense, it spread up his spine and flowed out along his limbs, his fingers and toes tingling. Again and again, he released more of his essence until finally, his climax ebbed.
They were both breathing heavily when the tremors eased off.
“That… was amazing,” Lucien gushed, scarcely able to breathe. He spread out where he was, completely ignoring the wetness he had made on himself. “Pye, how in the world are you so…“ His voice trailed off when he noticed that Pyewacket was still leaning over him, motionless, staring down at him intently.
Lucien was stiff as a board. He lay uncomfortably underneath him. And judging from Pyewacket’s semi-erect member, he’s expecting more than just a hand job tonight.
This is what you get for playing with fire, you idiot. Lucien thought to himself.
For a moment, their eyes danced, the two studying each other raptly.
Slowly, Pyewacket leaned forward, and then hesitated before leaning forward again. But as he was about to kiss him, Lucien turned his head away.
Apparently, they were not on the same page.
“I’m… I’m not ready for this,” Lucien muttered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the rain.
Pyewacket instantly felt rejected and dejected.
Lucien lifted himself up off Pyewacket, who moved to the side and collapsed on his back. He picked up Pyewacket’s towel from the backrest and ran it over his chest, belly, and thighs. And then, he wiped Pyewacket’s hands.
“…I should probably go wash up,” Lucien said, his eyes downcast, avoiding his familiar’s gaze. He pulled up his boxer shorts. But as he was about to stand up, Pyewacket grabbed him by the wrist.
“Uh… What’s up?” Lucien shot him a probing look.
He immediately let go of his grip on Lucien’s hand. “I… was meaning to tell you something.”
Lucien gulped. Oh, god. Please. Don’t go all sappy on me now.
Pyewacket tried to bottle up his emotions before looking up at his master, and said, “Today, I saw Murphy Odenkirk entering the warehouse, just like you said.”
Something glinted in Lucien’s eyes. “Wait. You did?” He planted himself back on the couch. “When? How?”
The familiar let out an inaudible sigh as he lifted his hips and slowly pulled his boxers back up. “The truth is, I’ve already seen him on two separate occasions.”
“What?”
“The first time was two weeks ago. It was also on a Saturday.”
Lucien’s brows knitted. “Why are you telling me this just now?”
“I needed to make sure before I tell you. Otherwise, you probably would’ve just rushed there without a plan.”
Lucien closed his eyes and bit his lip before saying, “You saw how stressed out I was over the past few weeks. I told you to let me know right away if there’s anything on your end, remember? How hard can it be?” He took a long and deep breath, and then stood up. “Never mind. No use dwelling on it. Thanks for letting me know.”
Outside, the torrential rain finally let up, turning into a drizzle. A heavy silence sank down between them, except for the occasional growl of thunder and the soft pitter patter of raindrops.
“There will be a board meeting soon, since it’s the final week of the month,” Pyewacket broke the silence. “You mentioned something about the executives holding a monthly meeting, so he’ll most likely show up at the company next Saturday.”
‘Oh, right. Higgins mentioned something about a monthly meeting.’
“Would you like me to accompany you, then?” Pyewacket inquired, hands clasped together. Lucien had his eyes on him, but he was avoiding eye contact.
Lucien shook his head. “At this point, it’s much better if I deal with the matter alone. But it’s pointless asking for my permission, because you’d still follow me around either way. That’s your job, after all. Right?”
Pyewacket was at a loss for words. He lowered his head and huddled at one end of the couch as Lucien headed to the shower.
Fifteen minutes later as he stepped out of the bathroom, he saw that Pyewacket was still on the couch, his back to him, motionless like a statue. He decided it was best to leave him alone for now.
Admittedly, he felt guilty about emotionally abusing Pyewacket that night. But trying to console him would only rub salt into the wound.
They had just serviced each other. That was all. Best to save them both the embarrassment of dealing with any “post mutual masturbation” awkwardness.
He headed to his bedroom, leaving the door partly open.
The room across the hall used to be his work room but when Pyewacket started working as his secretary, he decided to lend the spare room to him – although the familiar did not require sleep at all. Still, every night he would go to the room and keep the lights on until midnight or when he is certain that Lucien is already asleep.
Lucien turned off the bedside lamp and slipped under the covers, eyes fixed on the door. He tried to fight off drowsiness as he waited for Pyewacket to stop by the door to check on him, like he always does. Minutes have passed and the last time he checked the clock on the nightstand, it was already past 1:00 AM. There was no sign of Pyewacket. Work starts early tomorrow.
Eyelids feeling heavy, he drifted off to sleep.
Lucien probably worried over nothing.
The following day, Pyewacket was back to his usual tolerant, nonchalant self. He prepared Lucien a light breakfast – omelet with mushroom and cheese. They spoke about tomorrow’s scheduled meetings. They talked idly about the weather. Yet there was a strained effort on Lucien’s part to have a normal conversation with him. He didn’t want silence, although an uncomfortable silence probably would have been much easier for him.
Yet here he is, keeping the conversation going, keeping it light, talking about easy things that would not upset them both. The way Pyewacket dealt with the aftermath made it unthinkable to talk about what happened last night. In fact, it was as if it never happened at all.
Good. Lucien thought. It’s much better this way.
When he finished breakfast, Pyewacket headed off to the warehouse. It was a Sunday. Although it already seemed pointless for him to spend the entire day surveying the area, Lucien had no qualms and agreed to let him go.
In the end, he was the one who was flustered. Things could have been extremely awkward had Pyewacket decided to stay home. It would have been unbearable.
The days that followed passed in the blink of an eye. Time was on Lucien’s side. Or maybe because Pyewacket had been especially helpful and diligent over the past few days, that things had been a whole lot easier for him at work.
That week, he did everything Lucien asked him to do with perfect accuracy and precision. He never once complained. Never snapped out careless retorts. Never contradicted him even when he knew his decision ought to be challenged.
This was not the usual Pyewacket, after all. Something had changed, and it did not sit well with Lucien.
Finally, it’s Saturday. The most awaited day has come.
For now, Lucien has more pressing matters to attend to, so Pyewacket’s bizarre mood swings had to be taken care of later.
“I’ll go with you,” Pyewacket said with firm conviction.
Lucien was taken aback. He grabbed a black cap from the rack and gave his familiar a stern look. “I thought we already agreed you’re not coming with me.”
“This week, I did everything you asked me to. Now it’s time to return the favor. Let me go with you.” Pyewacket never tore his eyes off Lucien.
Lucien’s lips curled, and his eyes turned into narrow slits.
Pyewacket backed him into a corner. This was his plan all along.
“Don’t be such a kid,” he snapped. “You don’t need a reward each time you do a good deed. Besides, I never once forced you to do something against your will. Those were all part of your job as my secretary.”
Pyewacket’s nostrils flared. “I’m not asking for a reward. What I’m asking for is a favor. Those are two different things.”
Lucien thrust his arms into his jacket sleeves and slapped the cap on his head. “Why do you always have to be so difficult? Do you think I’d drop dead if you take your eyes off me?”
It was Pyewacket’s turn to frown. “No, but it seems you want me to drop dead if Lord Mammon finds out I’ve taken my eyes off you!” This was the first time he raised his voice at his master.
Lucien did not know whether to be angry or disappointed. All this time, Pyewacket is just acting out of a sense of obligation.
Ultimately, he felt defeated.
“No point arguing with you right now. You’ve already made up your mind, anyway.” Lucien paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Don’t stall me. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Just stay in the car. You hear me? And you need to be in your canine form. That’s my condition.”
Without another word he strode off, knowing Pyewacket would follow.
The trip to the warehouse was quiet and tense. Neither of them wished to talk to the other. Pyewacket, now in his canine form, was harnessed at the front passenger seat. He rested his head against the car door, refusing to look at Lucien, who never tore his eyes off the road.
After several miles on the expressway, Lucien made an exit and drove slowly through the narrow alley leading to the warehouse. A couple of men were carrying a tractor tire towards the nearby the junkyard. He punched the horn to clear a path, and the men reluctantly moved to the side, giving them a nasty look. Slowly, the car inched forward as he stepped cautiously on the gas.
They reached the end of the alley, and Lucien decided to park west of the warehouse, far enough away to see if another car enters or exits, but too far away for anyone to notice them and arouse suspicion.
It was half past 10 in the morning. Lucien’s heartbeat hastened as he pulled into the driveway, wheels crunching on the gravel. He cut the engine, then looked at Pyewacket, who was now staring at him, seemingly waiting for his next move.
Back when their plan was nothing more than theoretical, Lucien had scarcely bothered to imagine how things would turn out once they arrive, for the first time, at the warehouse. In fact, he did not want to imagine it. But now that he’s about to see Murphy Odenkirk again, he found himself seized with an acute and irrational sense of fear and anxiety.
From time to time, he would check himself in the rearview mirror. His hair was good. He was glad he decided to shave that morning. He took off his glasses, put them back on, then took them off again.
From the mirror’s reflection, his eyes met Pyewacket’s, who was giving him a questioning look. He has this strange – often irksome – ability to sense his master’s apprehensions.
Lucien gazed down, face flushed as he realized he had been too perturbed and self-conscious. He put his glasses back on then turned to look at his familiar.
“What time did you say he usually comes over?” He finally broke the ice between them.
“He should’ve arrived hours ago,” replied Pyewacket as he turned to check their surroundings. “I saw some cars parked inside the warehouse earlier. I didn’t see his car. He’s probably running late.”
Lucien tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and then checked his watch. “How much longer should we wait?”
Pyewacket did not respond. It was his way of telling him to be patient and wait.
It’s been more than 30 minutes since they arrived at the warehouse. Lucien reined in his impatience by responding to work-related emails and playing Sudoku on his phone.
He glanced at Pyewacket, who sat motionless, eyes fixed on the dirt road. “Want me to take off your harness?” he asked.
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
Five more minutes have passed. Lucien opened the glove compartment and reached in, hoping to find a cigarette. He pulled out some pens, toll receipts, and a pack of chewing gum.
He should have eaten more earlier that morning. Now he’s feeling hungry. He unwrapped the gum and put a piece in his mouth, which temporarily chased away the hunger and his need for a smoke.
“He’s here,” Pyewacket announced.
Up ahead, they could hear a car approaching the warehouse, and then it came into view as a blue-colored Bentley sedan went through the front gate.
“Master, you need to go,” said Pyewacket, snapping Lucien out of his brief trance.
After a slight hesitation, he opened the car door and stepped out. For a moment, he stood unmoving, as a slew of possible scenarios ran through his head.
What if Murphy Odenkirk doesn’t remember me anymore? What if he gets angry and punches me? What if he fires me from my job on the spot?
Once again, it put him on edge.
“Master,” his familiar called out to him, “you can’t afford to get cold feet now. It’s too late for that.”
Lucien heaved out a sigh and spat out the gum. “I know, I know. I’m going. You need to stay put, no matter what happens. Okay?” Without waiting for Pyewacket’s response, he fixed his cap in place and strode toward the warehouse.
As he approached the front gate, he peered cautiously inside and saw a couple of suited men stepping out of the blue sedan. He noticed that one of them was carrying a firearm, with the butt of the gun poking out the top of his rear holster.
Lucien thought, Shit, these guys are pros.
And then, seconds later, another figure emerged from the car. When Lucien saw him standing in the slightly shadowed part of the parking space, his heart leapt.
It was Murphy Odenkirk.
He appeared to have lost a bit of weight. He could see his collarbone poking out from his midnight blue dress shirt, which was unbuttoned at the collar and tucked into his pressed light gray trousers. He wore a pair of nicely polished black shoes and he wore his black suit jacket as a cape, which was loosely draped over his broad shoulders.
A pair of oversized aviator sunglasses shielded his eyes. He appeared to have grown a slight stubble on his chin, which was probably left unshaved for a day or two. His long, brown hair flowed to his chest, with a lazy French-style side braid that framed his perfectly symmetrical face.
One thing Lucien had not noticed before was that Murphy has multiple piercings all over his right ear, where his hair was tucked. From where he stood, he could see four piercings. No, five. He wasn’t sure. Just how many more company rules will this man break?
Lucien swallowed hard. One thing’s for sure: This man looks incredibly imposing. It would be impossible to ignore that ethereal face, even in the middle of a crowd.
When Lucien turned his attention back toward the men in suits, he noticed that one of them was looking at his direction, pointing at him. His heart leapt into his throat and his mind raced. He quickly turned around and tried to blend in, but he was obviously poking his nose in a dangerous place, and his gut instinct told him he’s in trouble.
Before he could move, a booming voice shouted from behind him. “Hey! You there! Come here!” His stomach sunk. He turned around to see that the man with the handgun was calling out to him. Led by fear, he followed his orders.
“Master!” Pyewacket’s voice boomed in his head.
“Stay where you are, Pye,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “I’ll be fine. Just stay put.”
“This place is off-limits. What do you think you’re doing here?”
Before Lucien could protest, the man grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the parking lot.
“Wait, I just need to talk to him!” He pointed to Murphy, who was quickly being ushered into the warehouse by the other suited man.
“You must be one of the paparazzi. You bastards really have a death wish!”
“No, I just really need to have a word with Mr. Odenkirk over there! And who are you, anyways?! You shouldn’t treat me this way. I’m a managing director of Carmichael Tech!” Lucien stuttered, realizing that his arguments are futile. He dropped to his knees and placed his hands behind his head. His body shook, a tremble that grew more violent with every passing second.
“Hand me your ID!” the suited man demanded as he grabbed Lucien by the shoulder.
Lucien hurriedly pulled out his wallet from his pants pocket and threw it to the man. “There. You can check it all you want. I work for Carmichael Tech, okay?!” He took off his cap and looked over Murphy, who now has a look of surprise on his face.
“Lucien?” The tone in Murphy’s voice was a mix of surprise and concern.
The suited man looked up at Murphy, loosening his grip on Lucien’s shoulder. “Boss, do you know who this person is?”
Murphy slipped from his bodyguard’s grasp and walked towards Lucien. “What… What are you doing here? How’d you find this place?”
Lucien chuckled nervously as he lowered his hands. He still appeared shaken. “That’s rich, considering I work just over there.” With a shaky finger, he pointed towards Carmichael Tech’s main building.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Murphy told him as he helped him stand. Then, he took off his sunglasses, staring at Lucien with narrowed mahogany eyes. “Regular employees aren’t supposed to know about this place.” His voice was laced with worry.
“Listen. I won’t be long. I… I think I owe you an apology.” Lucien said contritely.
“Boss,” the armed man interrupted. Form his pocket he produced a walkie-talkie and held it to his ear. “I’m afraid I need to report this to Ms. Breslin so – “
“What?” Murphy and Lucien protested.
Murphy took a deep breath. “Jack, a word please,” he said as he motioned the armed man to follow him to the warehouse entrance, out of Lucien’s earshot. They talked among themselves, looking over their shoulders at Lucien from time to time. Murphy seemed to be trying to persuade them not to report the incident to the higher-ups.
It took a couple of minutes before the men finally conceded. They stood next to the blue sedan as Murphy went back to Lucien.
“Uhm, hey. Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” Murphy ran his hands over his shoulders and arms.
“I’m – I’m fine. Really.” Lucien took a step back.
Murphy lowered his arms, smiling at Lucien faintly as he studied his face. “How are you?”
Lucien was surprised. He did not seem angry at all. “I should be the one asking you that,” he said as he lowered his head. “I… I really didn’t mean to hurt you back then...”
First Murphy looked confused, then he started smiling. “Oh. Well actually, I got a few stitches,” he said as he placed a hand on his cheek where Lucien had punched him.
Lucien gasped. “What? I’m – I’m so sorry! God, what should I do to – “
Murphy laughed. “I’m just kidding. See? It’s all good. Just a little bit of cuts and bruises but it’s nothing serious.”
Lucien dropped his gaze and bit his lip.
A feeling of helplessness welled up inside Murphy as he gazed down at him. “Listen... I think you’re right when you said we shouldn’t see each other again.”
“What?” Lucien looked up at him, confused and somewhat disappointed. “I mean, okay, I understand why you’d hate me, but can I at least have a few minutes of your time? I feel like I owe you an explanation and… I mean, the way that night ended between the two of us… It’s just…”
“Boss,” the man named Jack cut in, “they need you at the meeting hall. Now.”
Murphy nodded then turned back at Lucien. He gave him an apologetic look. Yet somehow, there was a tinge of sadness in his eyes. “Listen. You’re forgiven. Okay? And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry if I offended you that night. You know, we were both just really drunk. We did and said things we eventually regretted. Let’s just… forget it ever happened.”
Lucien’s heart sank. Somehow, the worst-case scenario had come true. And without a contingency plan, he felt completely lost.
Feeling miserable, he silently watched as Murphy and his men disappeared into the shabby warehouse. One of the bodyguards had already warned him not to return to that area and to never disclose it to anyone in the company unless he wants to lose his job. The threat seemed real but honestly, he could not care less at this point.
Lucien returned to the car with an air of misery about him.
“How did it go?” Pyewacket asked, sounding concerned. But judging from Lucien’s demeanor, things have definitely gone south.
Lucien crouched to the ground and put his face between his knees. “Pye… I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m trying my best, but things just aren’t going my way.”
Pyewacket could not see his face from where he sat, but he could vaguely feel the depressing miasma surrounding his master. He was nearing his limit.
He fought the urge to shift back to his human form, run to his master, and comfort him. But Lucien would not like that. He hated being consoled. It makes him feel weak.
“Lucien!” A voice cried out from behind them.
Pyewacket let out a low growl. Hackles raised, he pulled himself to full height and bared his fangs to the stranger approaching them.
Lucien quickly rose to his feet when he recognized the voice.
“Tomorrow,” Murphy Odenkirk said breathlessly. “Tomorrow, are you free for lunch?”
Pyewacket could see the unmistakable gleam in his master’s eyes. His mouth curved into a smile and, almost without hesitation, he nodded and said, “Yes. I’m free all day.”
Murphy tried to catch his breath and, with a rakish smile, said, “Do you know where the Cibus Amans is? It’s a restaurant in Northeast Seventh Avenue.”
Lucien looked up, trying to remember where it is. He chuckled faintly while he shook his head. “But there’s Waze to show me the direction, right?”
“Right,” Murphy nodded as he dug a hand into his trouser pocket and rubbed the back of his neck with the other. “So uhm, does 12 PM sound good to you?”
Lucien could barely suppress his excitement. “Yes. Tomorrow at noontime, then. Cibus Amans, was it?”
Murphy nodded before turning away. “Yes, and oh – “ His eyes darted towards Pyewacket, who never tore his eyes off him. “ – you can bring your dog too, if you want.” He waved his hand in a hurried farewell and dashed back inside the warehouse.
Lucien was in high spirits when he stepped back inside the car.
“Wow… Who are you and what did you do to my master?” Pyewacket said wryly.
With his canine form, Lucien could not tell whether he was being sarcastic or simply wasn’t amused. “All is well that ends well, Pye,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as he put his cap back on.
“I really need to start getting used to this capricious attitude of yours,” Pyewacket said completely unironically. “I almost felt sorry for you back there. How deceptive.”
“Rude,” said Lucien as he started the engine and sped off down the dirt road. “Unsolicited criticisms aside, I have a really good feeling about tomorrow.”
Pyewacket scoffed. “I get nervous every time you say that. It almost sounds like an omen.”
The moment they reached home, Lucien strode to his bedroom and dug laboriously through the mess in his closet. He took a good look at his clothes and, for the first time, could not decide what to wear. He hardly had time to upgrade his wardrobe, and he barely mixed in casual clothing into his pile of suits, formal wear, and old shirts that are begging to be thrown out.
After ten minutes, he was able to find a pair of flared jeans and plaid track pants, and a dark green jersey-knit polo and split silk shirt. He stood in front of the full-length mirror as he tried them on.
Shortly after, Pyewacket appeared from the hallway and leaned against the bedroom door. He looked at him with intense scrutiny. “What are you doing?”
“How does this look?” Lucien asked as he showed off the split silk shirt and the plaid track pants.
Pyewacket grimaced. “It screams desperate.”
Lucien rolled his eyes as he got out of the clothes and put on his second ensemble. “And this?”
“You look like a hippie straight out of the sixties.”
“Wow, what do you even know about the hippie culture and the sixties, Mr. Pyewacket?”
“I read. Why are you doing this again, Master?”
Lucien took off the clothes, dumped them on the floor, and jumped into bed. “I Googled tomorrow’s restaurant. It’s not just some cheap diner at the block, Pye. I gotta’ dress to impress.”
Pyewacket raised an eyebrow. “Why? It’s not as if you’re going out on a date,” he reasoned.
Lucien stared up at the ceiling for a moment, as if something had dawned on him. And then, he raised his head to look at his familiar. “You’re right. It’s not a date. Why would you even think it’s a date? How stupid!”
Pyewacket shook his head as he headed to his bedroom, leaving Lucien to invade his closet once more.
The Cibus Amans is a quintessential Latin-inspired restaurant located at the Miami waterfront. Contrary to Lucien’s expectation, it was easy to find, especially when it’s just several blocks away from the apartment complex.
Ever since he arrived in Miami, he barely had the opportunity to explore the city. At most, he only goes out to buy groceries, medicine, and other essentials. He rarely goes out to dine and drink with colleagues either, and Pyewacket isn’t exactly the best person to accompany him on a local food trip.
The restaurant’s view is unbeatable. While the dining area is light and airy, Lucien was inexplicably drawn to the terrace overlooking the Biscayne Bay. He had the urge to tour the place and its neighboring areas right away.
But first, he must find Murphy Odenkirk.
His watch read 11:47 AM. Since it was nearing lunch time, the place was almost filled with guests. The terrace was even more packed, with several groups of people drinking and smoking. But the ambience was conversational, with light jazz music playing in the background.
Lucien turned to the left and then to the right, carefully looking around. It’s hard to miss Murphy, even in this crowd.
“Lucien, over here!” A familiar voice called out. Out on the terrace, Murphy was raising his hand to attract his attention.
He was wearing a pair of dark brown loafers and tan cropped drawstring trousers that exposed his ankles. The dark green button-down overshirt completed his smart-casual look. And unlike yesterday, his face was already cleanly shaven; his thick light-brown hair tied in a half-up man bun.
He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear as he slowly walked up to Lucien, beaming. “Was it difficult to find this place?”
For some reason, Lucien’s fingers started to tremble. “N – No. Not at all. In fact, it’s within walking distance from where I live.” He immediately regretted mentioning the last bit. “Anyway, should we go sit on the terrace? It’s a shame but I’ve actually never seen the bay up-close before.”
“Really? So you’re not from here.” Murphy said in a surprised tone. He motioned Lucien to follow him to the terrace where several outdoor tables, chairs, and couches were neatly lined up under white patio umbrellas.
Lucien smiled faintly and shook his head. “I’m from somewhere a whole lot colder.” He walked towards the edge of the terrace and took a long, deep breath. In front of him, the water shimmered and beckoned. He immediately regretted not coming to this place sooner.
He turned towards Murphy, who had already settled on one of the couches and was folding his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. A waiter approached him and handed the menu.
It was an especially hot and humid Sunday. Lucien waved his right hand through the air as if cooling himself with a fan. He was glad he decided to wear light clothing: A sky-blue polo shirt, a trusty pair of denims, and navy-blue suede shoes.
Nothing too desperate about that! He said to himself, remembering Pyewacket’s subtle mockery.
Speaking of Pyewacket, he was also glad his familiar decided to bail at the last minute.
“You really won’t tag along? You’re welcome to come with me, you know,” Lucien said to him earlier that day. Even he was unsure about his familiar’s sudden change of mind.
“I would’ve gone if he invited Philip Menendez. But he invited the dog.” Pyewacket barely took his eyes off the book he was reading.
“Touché.” Lucien replied, cocking an eyebrow. “But what happened to the I-can’t-let-you-go-alone-because-you-will-die commitment, hmm?”
Pyewacket paused for a moment before saying, “I never said such a thing. And anyway, it’s a Sunday. Even familiars need a break.”
That was the end of their discussion. Pyewacket’s mood swings are as unpredictable as the weather. And sometimes, it goes in Lucien’s favor.
“Lucien?” Murphy’s voice snapped him back to the present. “I ordered some oysters and ceviche. Would you like to add more?” He handed the menu over to Lucien, who planted himself in the couch opposite to him.
“Hmm…” Lucien rubbed his chin as he ran his eyes over the menu. He could not remember the last time he’d been to an upscale restaurant. And if it were up to him, he did not want to order anything too expensive.
“I don’t really know what I want.”
Murphy smiled as Lucien handed the menu back to him. “Okay, maybe I can help. The grilled lamb ribs are amazing, but I usually order one of the spicy grilled shrimps.”
Lucien wanted to say it was expensive. Everything is simply overpriced. “I’m… actually allergic to shrimp.” It was a lie. “But the ribs do look good. But I couldn’t possibly spend a hundred bucks for a steak...”
The waiter chuckled beside him. He let out a cough, completely forgetting they weren’t alone.
“It’s a good thing you told me you’re allergic. I was actually planning to order a full seafood platter. I don’t want to keep giving you horrible experiences.” Lucien flinched at his remark. He was clearly still troubled over their little ruse at the quinquennial party. “And don’t worry about the cost, okay? I want you to enjoy yourself and our lunch date.”
A lunch date? Did I hear that right? Lucien almost strained his ears. Murphy was trying to get him to relax, but it only made him more nervous.
“I… honestly don’t want you stretching your wallet for this,” Lucien said with finality. “Let’s go Dutch, okay? I’ll pay for the drinks.” He looked up at the waiter. “A bottle of your best red wine, please.”
When the waiter took their orders and left, Lucien began to feel the tension around them. He curled his fingers into the palm of his hand, not even feeling them dig in. Murphy leaned against the couch and crossed his legs, studying his face intently for a moment. He itched with discomfort.
“Lunch and drinks are on me today,” Murphy asserted. And to further prevent Lucien from objecting, he added, “I’m a bit hesitant to tell you this but, I actually own this restaurant.”
“Oh.” Lucien blinked, and then a blush crossed his face. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I said the food was too expensive. I didn’t mean to – “
“Hey, it’s okay. I actually think it’s a bit too overpriced. Thanks for the feedback.”
“But, well… if the food’s good, then it’s gonna’ be worth every penny.”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” Murphy replied as he let out a nervous chuckle.
For Lucien, it was extremely challenging to be charming and witty when his thoughts were in turmoil, even more so when he’s half-embarrassed to be associated with someone like Murphy Odenkirk. But this man managed to fill his every breath and pause with chatter. It was his way to make Lucien feel at ease, and it’s gradually working its magic on him. Indeed, this man is a people person. A smooth talker.
Of course, it was all small talk at first, and Lucien did not expect a deep conversation until their ordered dishes arrive. Thirty minutes later, their idle chatter was cut short with the arrival of their lunch. They started with the farm lettuce salad, with Murphy suggesting they take a two-bite break before resuming their conversation.
After taking slow mouthfuls of food, Murphy shot Lucien a sideways glance, smiled softly and said, “Dates make you nervous.”
Lucien nearly choked on his salad, and quickly washed it down with a glass of water. “I’m sorry, what?”
Murphy picked up a cucumber slice and popped it into his mouth. “I’m glad you are. Otherwise, it’s not worth your time.”
Lucien frowned. He wanted to say, First of all, we’re not on a date! But he fought against it. He put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Oh? How come?”
“Isn’t it better to go on a date and feel more at ease around that person?”
Murphy put down his own fork and looked at him square in the eyes. “You’ll eventually feel more comfortable with that person after the first date. It’s only natural to feel nervous on your first date,” he insisted.
“You’ve probably been on a lot of dates before, Mr. Odenkirk,” Lucien told him. “I’m not so experienced in that area.”
The waiter returned with a bottle of red wine. He poured a bit for Murphy to taste, before filling both glasses.
“I do go out on dates,” Murphy admitted with no intention of sugar-coating. “But I didn’t feel as nervous as I am now.”
Lucien looked up at him and studied his face intently. This man knows how to stir people up!
“So you go on a verbal diarrhea when you’re nervous?” he quipped as he took his glass in his hand and swirled the wine around gently.
“I guess I do,” replied Murphy as he lifted his glass. “To first dates.”
Lucien’s expression lightened with cautious relief. “First dates.”
They clinked glasses and drank. It was the best wine Lucien had tasted in years.
Once they had finished their lunch, they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, watching passing yachts and ships.
“I suppose you have something urgent to tell me,” Murphy said eventually, with a faint smile.
Lucien finished his second glass of wine. He surreptitiously studied his companion and tried to gauge his mood.
“I don’t think I’m in the right position to demand an explanation from you, Mr. Odenkirk –”
“Please, just call me Murphy.”
Lucien cleared his throat. “Actually, I just needed to apologize to you. I’ve been feeling really horrible about what I’ve done to you. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the past few weeks and, well, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.”
Murphy took a deep breath and let it out. He poured himself another glass of wine. “Is that all? But I’ve already forgiven you.”
Lucien dropped his gaze. He wanted to say a lot of things. He had so many questions. So many intentions. He just did not know where to get started, and he had to carefully think about what to say next.
Wine glass in hand, Murphy slipped into the couch beside Lucien. “Truth is, I really do owe you an explanation. And I want you to hear me out this time.”
Lucien’s whole body went stiff and unyielding. He could feel himself burning as Murphy’s gaze traveled over his face.
“I’m – I’m honestly going out on a limb here, but you really seem like an interesting person. I’ve known that since the first time we met. I… I’d love to get to know you better, but I have no idea what to do the first time.” Murphy gave him a sideways glance, his ears turning red. “Actually, I think we started off on the wrong foot.”
“You don’t say.” Lucien gave another nervous chuckle. “I think we skipped on a lot of important steps.”
They both laughed.
“Hey… About last time…” Murphy chewed on the inside of his left cheek and tapped anxiously on his wine glass. “I don’t regret a single thing I’ve done that night.”
Lucien studied him for a moment, trying to calm his heart. Perhaps Murphy Odenkirk was just being courteous. A sudden realization emerged from the turmoil in his mind. Doubt. Lurking in a shadowy recess.
This is no time to act like some sappy teenage girl being confessed to by her crush, he argued silently. Everything about this was too unsettling, too good to be true.
“Come on now, what would your girlfriend say if she hears that?” Lucien interjected, his voice subdued. “Or is it a boyfriend?”
“I’m single. I haven’t gone out with anyone for the past two years.” Murphy signaled the waiter for more wine.
When their glasses were refilled, Murphy toyed absently with the stem of his wine glass. “I admit I had several long-term partners. I lived for a while with two of them.” He grinned. “Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t live with both at the same time!”
Lucien smiled to acknowledge his joke. “Is one of them the person named ‘Storm’?”
“Uhm, no.” Murphy’s eyebrows arched. Somehow, his brown eyes were sparkling with good humor. “That’s what I wanted to explain to you. But Storm… she’s a complicated person.”
Lucien would rather keep the conversation going than to end it in an awkward light. “But if you’re not comfortable telling me,” he put in quickly, “it’s completely okay. Let’s save it for next time.”
Murphy refused to look at him. Of course, he also did not want to spoil the mood. “So there’ll be a next time?”
“…I don’t know,” Lucien shrugged. “I’m not exactly the type of person who goes on dates.”
“What does that mean?” Murphy considered, chortling. “Is there such a ‘type’ of person who goes on dates? I think people just naturally go on dates.”
Their conversation went smoothly as they discussed completely innocuous topics. They spent the next couple of hours talking, eating, drinking, and laughing in equal parts. For a time, it felt like they had known each other for quite a long time. Lucien’s fears slipped away.
The air around them was gradually beginning to cool off. Before they realized it, they were the only guests left in the terrace, apart from the staff.
Even so, Lucien did not think this was the right moment to ask about the warehouse and the secret passage. In fact, he figured it was too soon to delve deeper into the matter. He needed to know Murphy Odenkirk better. He needed more opportunities. More chances.
He needed to set aside any ulterior motive he could think of and focus on the intention of pushing his plans forward – and that is to meet Audra Breslin. Murphy Odenkirk was basically his only ticket to getting to know Carmichael Tech’s CEO.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked as Murphy emptied his glass. “What’s your relationship with Ms. Breslin? I mean, I saw you two leave the party together…”
Murphy smiled sheepishly. His cheeks felt flushed and hot. One more glass and the wine would surely go to his head. “We’ve known each other since we were young. You can say we’re childhood friends. Nothing more.” He said it in a reassuring way, as if it was both necessary and important for Lucien to know.
For some reason, Lucien felt relieved that he had told him straight out how things stood between the two of them. “She seems to care for you a lot.”
“We’ve known each other since forever. We’re practically siblings.”
Lucien put the glass to his lips, trying to conceal his smile. He was right about pursuing Murphy Odenkirk. He absolutely cannot afford to spoil this opportunity.
A few seconds later, he turned his attention to his phone on the table, as the screen glowed with an incoming call.
Pyewacket’s number. He picked up his phone and fingered the answer button thoughtfully for a moment.
“Not going to answer it?” Murphy asked with inquiring eyes.
The phone rang five times before Lucien decided to answer the call. Holding the phone against his chest, he stood up and excused himself from Murphy. He walked to the edge of the terrace and held the phone to his ear.
“Should I start worrying now?”
“No, Pye. I’m perfectly fine. I’ll be back home soon.”
There was a brief pause on Pyewacket’s end. “It’s definitely a date.”
“It’s called ‘building rapport’, Pye.”
“A date disguised as building rapport?”
Lucien sighed. “Why are you calling me again? I don’t have time for this right now.”
“Master, I think I should’ve gone with you. I couldn’t stay put and…”
Behind him, Lucien could hear a muffled shout and the sound of shoes clicking on the slick marble floor. He turned around and was shocked to see Audra Breslin – on the flesh, looking even more striking in person.
Suddenly, he was dazed, barely able to understand what Pyewacket was saying over the phone. She made quite an entrance with the long, body-hugging red dress she had on. She wore a pearl necklace around her slender neck and carried a small golden clutch bag studded with crystals to match her dress. She wore a sensible pair of beige shoes with broad two-inch heels that matched perfectly well with her overall crimson look.
She is a special kind of beauty. And the sight of her standing beside Murphy made them look like a match made in heaven.
“Uh, hey, what are you doing here?” Murphy’s voice shook as he looked at Audra and then toward Lucien.
Audra pecked him on the cheek and said, “I figured you’re here since that douchebag’s loitering outside again, waiting for you. You can’t keep ignoring him forever, you know.”
“Wait, who?”
“Forget it. You’ll see him later, anyway. And what are you doing here? Gavin said you’re out with Chris at the gym.”
“Hold that thought, Pye, I’ll talk to you later,” Lucien snapped as he hurriedly hung up the phone and cautiously walked up towards them. “Excuse me. Hi.”
Audra turned around to face him. At first, she gazed at him with a confused look. And then, her face tensed.
Lucien reached out to shake her hand. “Hello, Ms. Breslin. My name’s Lucien Salverson. I’m the Managing Director for – “
“Oh, I know who you are,” Audra Breslin cut him off, her voice sounding cold and accusatory. She shot Murphy a stern look. “Really, M? Do you really want to play it this way? You’ve seriously lost it!”
Lucien was in total confusion. “Uhh… Is everything okay?”
Murphy tilted his head, avoiding Lucien’s eyes. “Audra, come on, you’re being very rude…”
“You’re crazy. You never learn.” Audra said furiously, unable to keep the edge of bitterness from her voice. “Get real, M! He’s always going to be your downfall!” She glared at Lucien, brushed his hand away and stormed off, leaving him utterly confused and apprehensive.
It took a full minute for Lucien and Murphy to find their bearings.
“Not planning to go after her?”
Humiliation burned from inside Murphy. “I’m so sorry. She always has this tendency to cause a scene at the most horrible times.”
“Yes, but aren’t you going to talk to her?” Lucien felt vexed. “Did I do something to offend her?”
All of a sudden, the atmosphere had shifted. Murphy tried to think of a way to placate him but could not come up with anything. “No, that’s not it…”
“Was it because of what happened at the party?”
“No.”
“Then why? Why is she mad at me?” He tried to recall everything Audra Breslin had said. “Wait, does she think I’m dating you?”
Murphy rubbed his nape. “She always thinks I’m dating the person next to me. You might think it’s weird but, she thinks everyone else isn’t good for me.”
What an insufferable bitch! Lucien thought, trying to rein in his frustration. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you sure you two are just friends?” He returned to their table and gathered up his things. “She’s too overbearing and overprotective for you guys to just be friends. Or maybe she thinks you’re more than just that.”
“Wait, you’re leaving?”
Lucien headed into the dining hall and out to the parking lot. “We’re leaving. You need to go and straighten things out with Ms. Breslin.”
“This isn’t the first time she’s had an outburst like that,” Murphy reasoned, but Lucien wasn’t buying it.
“Well, it’s a first for me and honestly, I don’t think I deserve such a treatment, even if I’m just your subordinate.” He fished for his car keys inside his pants pocket, and then waved his hands in a flippant gesture. He figured it’s important to set a boundary as early as possible. “You know what, you and Ms. Breslin are practically my bosses. I respect you two. And I think we need to draw a line here.”
“What do you mean?” Murphy followed him down the steps toward his car.
“Mr. Odenkirk, I’m the type of person who doesn’t want to mix business with pleasure.” Lucien said firmly, every word laced with conviction. “If she thinks we’re dating, please set her mind at ease. Because we’re not anything more than colleagues.”
His words made Murphy’s heart twist in pain, but he did his best to ignore it. He was right, anyway. They’re not even remotely close to being friends. “Alright. I will. I’m so sorry things turned out this way.”
Lucien’s gaze held Murphy’s for a moment, and then his expression softened. “Other than the last bit, I enjoyed our…” He was meaning to say ‘date’, but quickly shrugged it off, “… lunch. The food was great. I’ll have to give your restaurant five stars on Yelp.” It was a futile way to lighten up the mood before they part ways. “It was a pleasure getting to know you, Mr. Odenkirk. I hope you enjoy the rest of your Sunday.”
As he was about to step into his car, Murphy grabbed him on one arm.
“Will I be seeing you again?”
When Lucien was about to open his mouth for a response, he realized that they were not alone anymore. A man was standing right behind Murphy, flailing his arms, trying to get their attention. Murphy didn’t seem to have noticed the stranger. At least not yet.
“Hey! Come on, if you want peace of mind, then you should hear me out! Aren’t you sick and tired of me? It’s been ages!” The stranger yelled, loud enough for everyone within the vicinity to hear him. He seemed to be addressing Murphy.
“… I honestly don’t know how to answer that, Mr. Odenkirk,” replied Lucien, avoiding eye contact with the stranger and trying his best to focus on Murphy, who seemed to be deliberately ignoring the other.
Could this guy be a paparazzi? An ex? A stalker? It’s best to leave soon and let them talk. Murphy sure has a lot of problematic people in his life!
“I’m hoping we could meet again…” Murphy said rather calmly.
“Seriously, you’re going to pretend you can’t hear me? Aren’t you tired of this game?” The man bellowed as he slowly approached them.
“Uhm…” Lucien could barely concentrate on the moment. Why is he ignoring this guy? He’s about to attract everyone’s attention! He almost wanted to dash; afraid he’d witness another embarrassing situation.
Murphy loosened his grasp on Lucien’s arm, then pulled out his wallet. He took out a business card and handed it to Lucien. “Call me if you need anything.”
Lucien accepted the card and nodded. “… I will.”
“Don’t push your luck, Casanova! He seems too good to just be dumped by you!” shouted the stranger, clearly trying to stir up Murphy.
This finally ticked Lucien. “Excuse me?” he retorted as he turned his attention toward the stranger. “Just what is your deal? Should I call the cops on you?”
At this, both Murphy and the stranger looked at him with a shocked expression.
“Well, would you look at that!” cried the stranger.
Murphy gripped his arm once more but this time, a look of worry was painted across his face. “You… You can actually…?”
The stranger ran up to Lucien’s car, smiling from ear to ear. He was a lean and tall man. Probably in his early forties. Surprisingly good-looking. But those looks were only put to waste by his eccentric – probably even dangerous – behavior.
“Hey, mister. This guy here’s been ignoring me for years. I don’t mean any harm. Seriously. I just need your help. Please, you’ve got to listen to me!” the man said, almost pleading.
“Stop it, Hunter. You better leave him alone. I’m warning you.” This was the first time Murphy acknowledged the man’s presence.
“Oh, wow. Wow! He finally decides to talk to me!” the stranger said, clapping his hands sardonically. “Well, no. I’ve had enough of you. I’ll talk to him instead!” He turned his attention back at Lucien.
“You better go, Lucien. I’ll handle it from here,” Murphy suggested as he blocked himself between Lucien and the stranger.
Lucien hurriedly started the engine. He didn’t want to witness any more of this uproar.
“See you later, friend!” the man shouted, waving at Lucien.
“Uhm, are you sure you’ll be okay?” Lucien asked frantically as he slowly backed up and turned his car around. “I’ll call 911 if you like –“
The man only responded with a laugh. “Call 911, he says. That’s rich. That’s really rich!”
Murphy tapped on the car door, signaling him to leave. “Go. I’ll be fine. Just call me if anything comes up, okay?”
Lucien nodded and sped off, leaving the two to talk. From his rearview mirror, he could make out that they were in a heated argument, Murphy’s arms moving in clearly angry motions. He quickly tore his eyes off them when the stranger looked over his direction. He made a sharp turn towards the next alley.
He took a deep breath and licked his lips. He could not remember the last time he’d felt so overwhelmed. He’s been through a lot of eventful and troubling moments the past few years, but this day definitely takes the cake!
Lucien decided to tell Pyewacket everything that had transpired that afternoon. The familiar seemed cool toward him for the next while, listening to him intently. But he could tell that he was trying to weigh in the validity of his story.
“But why would the CEO treat you that way?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “She couldn’t possibly treat you so harshly if you didn’t do anything, say… during the corporate event.”
The way Pyewacket said it with a suggestive grin pissed off Lucien. He was on the verge of yelling, “Okay, you want to know the real truth? Murphy Odenkirk gave me the best blow job of my life and you know what, I loved it to death! But he’s lying about not having a lover, which is why I punched him in the face! But that lover could be Audra fucking Breslin! And she's a crazy, manipulative bitch!"
But of course, his more sensible and rational side was still winning over the impulsive and ill-tempered Lucien.
He raked a hand through his loose hair. “Well, now that I’m in contact with Murphy Odenkirk, then it’ll be much easier to get to know Audra Breslin.” He smiled over the rim of his teacup before taking a swallow that emptied the cup. “Her bizarre behavior only piqued my interest, and I’m dead-set on getting to the bottom of it.”
But something else was bothering him, and Pyewacket could see it in the way he restlessly tapped his fingers on his teacup, although he kept trying to still himself. His eyes were overcast and tight around the edges.
“What’s wrong, Master?”
“Actually… something weird happened before I left,” Lucien groused, trying to downplay his anxiety in front of his familiar. “I left Murphy with some psycho back at the restaurant.”
“Hmm…” Pyewacket walked towards the open window and stood on the windowsill, looking outside. “And you’re worried about him?”
“What? Of course, I am. He’s my boss. And I’m the last person seen with him. Audra Breslin saw us, too. What if something awful happens to him? What if that guy’s his stalker all along? What if I become a suspect if Murphy suddenly disappears?”
Pyewacket pulled a face. “All these years of scheming and conspiring has turned you into a complete paranoid, Master. I would never have come up with that kind of grim assumption.”
“Audra Breslin will surely put the blame on me. She hates my guts!”
As Lucien continued his monologue, Pyewacket turned his attention towards a man who appeared from the corner of the dimly lighted street below them. The man looked around, and then stood under the streetlight directly across where they live. Hey, I haven’t seen this one around here before, thought Pyewacket. He sat sideways on the windowsill and decided to observe the stranger for a while longer.
“… and that creep even said I’ll be seeing him soon. I mean, what’s the deal? I’ve already got my hands full as it is. I don’t need some psycho stalker tailing me around!”
Pyewacket suddenly became aware that the man was looking at him. As their eyes met, the man straightened up, cupped his hands around his mouth, and started yelling something to him. The man crossed the street without looking both ways, head straight up, looking right at him.
“What does the man look like, Master?” he asked Lucien, eyes still fixed on the stranger who was shouting even louder.
“Why would it matter? I’m never gonna’ see that creep again, anyways.”
“Is he wearing gray cotton pants and red plaid shirt?”
“Huh? Well… Yeah, I think he was wearing something red.”
“Is he tall, with dark brown hair and a beard?”
Lucien frowned as he walked up towards Pyewacket. “What are you on about? How’d you – “ As he walked closer towards the window, he heard muffled shouting from below them. He stuck his head out to see who it was, and instantly regretted doing so. “What the fuck?!” He quickly ducked back inside.
“Mister! Mister, hello! I know you’re in there! Your car’s parked out here, see?! Please, I just need to talk to you! I need your help!” It was the same man who was hounding Murphy earlier that day.
Panic-stricken, Lucien tugged frantically at Pyewacket’s shirt. “Fuck, that’s him! What the hell, how’d he find me?!”
“Lucien! Your name’s Lucien!” exclaimed the stranger. “Hey, Lucien! Where are you? I need to have a word with you!”
Pyewacket rested his elbows on the windowsill and put his head in his hands. “Woah… Seems like you’ve brought home a lively one.”
Lucien was enraged by his familiar’s indifference. He pushed him aside as he stuck an arm out the window and pointed his middle finger straight up. “Fuck you, asshole! Get lost or I’ll call the cops on you! I’m serious!”
The stranger stood with his arms folded, a mocking smile touching his lips. “Go ahead. I dare you!”
Lucien clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth as he forced the angry words out. Just then, a couple of men were passing by the street. “You fucking psycho! Get the hell away from me or I’ll kill you myself!”
One of the men looked up at Lucien and spat. “What the fuck, dude? What’s your deal?”
Lucien turned to the other man and shot him a quick menacing look. “Not talking to you, dude. Now get out of my sight!” He waved a hand to shoo them away.
The two men looked around in confusion, then glared back at Lucien. One of them gestured with a raised middle finger. “Fucking psycho! Do us all a favor and check yourself into a loony bin, will ‘ya?!”
Lucien’s jaw dropped as the passersby strode off. “What the fuck! Now I’m the psycho?!”
“Can’t you see? Haven’t you realized it yet? You can’t get rid of me that easily, Lucien!” shouted the stranger, jumping and waving his arms around.
"Can’t the neighbors hear this shitshow?” Lucien poked his head out once more and looked around. “Hello?! Hello, someone's harassing me, can someone please call the police?!"
Pyewacket snorted beside him. “Man, I need a popcorn for this. This is just too funny.”
“Funny? You think this is fucking funny?!” Lucien yelled angrily as he nudged Pyewacket in the ribs. “This time, I’m really going to die. Otherwise, I’m gonna’ do the killing myself!”
“Come now, Master, don’t be so melodramatic,” sneered Pyewacket. “Do you even know who – or what – you’re talking with? I doubt it, though.”
"What the hell, Pye, have you suddenly gone blind? We're dealing with a psycho here!" He grabbed his phone and dialed a number. "That’s it, I'm calling the cops!"
"Master, I wouldn't do that if I were you – unless you really want to be treated like a real psycho." Pyewacket said coolly as he grabbed Lucien by the arm and snatched his phone. He shifted his gaze back towards the stranger then cocked his head, telling Lucien to do the same. "Look at him closely. Check his aura."
Lucien blinked. “Wait, what?” He looked back outside and strained his eyes to get a better look at the man. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even have an aura! He tilted his head, utterly perplexed and bewildered. “Well… that’s a first.” He turned to his familiar with a baffled look. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Master, can’t you tell? That man… he’s not from this world anymore.” Pyewacket gave him a look of open curiosity. “He’s a ghost.”
