Choose us (Wilmon FF)

19

(Four weeks until the third gala)
Simon

"I'm really sorry."

Simon just shook his head. "It's okay. If grandma and grandpa need you it's okay."
He had to admit that it did hurt a bit. After all, he hadn't seen his mother for several weeks. That's a difference when he usually saw her every weekend.

On the other side of the video call, Linda sighed. She had been feeling better for a while, but neither Simon nor she had time to do anything other than a little text exchange. "Still. It just didn't went the way I wanted to. Anyway. Where are you, by the way? I'm just seeing this now." Linda said, holding her phone closer to her face. Simon's shoulders immediately tightened. Fortunately, it was only the bathroom from the room. "Um, in the bathroom of my hotel room. My boss ordered me a bit further away from Stockholm." It's only half a lie, Simon thought to ease his conscience a bit. "Must be expensive," Linda said, and Simon tilted his head. "Well, it looks expensive for a hotel."
Simon laughed, "Yes, yes it does."

"Okay, honey, I have to get going. Mom and dad need me." Simon nodded. "Okay, love you. And hug them from me." He paled a kiss through his cell phone and Linda did the same. "I will and I love you too." With that, she hung up. That was when his phone vibrated again.

Wilhelm: Do you have time today?

Oh, how Simon wished he would have but he didn't. So thats what he texted Wille. And before Wilhelm texted it to Simon, Simon already knew that Wille would use every opportunity to text him randomly. And Simon wouldn't complain.

He took a deep breath before putting on his shoes and taking the laundry basket, full of his stuff, that was still standing around in his room. With it, he left the castle and went to his assigned car, that would drive him around.
"To the bank, please," Simon told his driver and the car started moving.

It wasn't long before they were at the bank and Simon went in as if he wasn't just withdrawing money every two months. At the ATM he withdrew what he needed, the whole first salary from the first gala, and went back to the car. "To the address, please." And so they drove to his mother's house.

There he put the laundry basket with his things in his old room and watched Olle, Oski and Felle again. How they swam through the water with no problems at anything or no problems from anyone. Simon wished he was one of the three at that very moment. He wished he could just hide from the world and its problems.

Swim, swim, swim.

He wished he had a precise destination to swim to. A shore, if you will, that he could eventually reach, but he didn't have that right now. He was in a sea of helplessness without seeing an exact way out; as if there was only water and he would drown.

Swim, swim, swim.

He still watered the plants that needed it when his phone vibrated once again.

Wilhelm: *Photo*
Wilhelm: I hate you.

Simon couldn't do any diffrent then laugh outloud. He looked in the mirror in the hallway where he watered a plant right now and laughed even more. He opened the camera app and made a picture. He sent it Wille.

Simon: *Photo*
Simon: Don't act so hypocritical. Only I, unlike you, am allowed to show them.
Wilhelm: Fuck you :*
Simon: I'm about to steal make-up from my mother's house anyway xD

And it was true. He would definitely do so. And then he thought about Wille's message once more and typed something new.
He'd hope it would make Wilhelm blush violently. But the message got two blue picks and Wille went offline. Simon didn't think much of it and just laughed.

Then, he left the house again. "Another stop?" asked the driver whose name Simon had already forgotten. "Yes. Here." said Simon and handed him an address that he would prefer not to have at all.

After a very short drive, they stopped in front of a building that Simon knew all too well. There was a bench in front of the house.

"Simon, I'm only in this house for a moment. I'll be right back," Micke said, patting Simon on the head a bit. He was younger, about five years. "Now you sit down on this bench and wait a minute." Mick lifted him onto the bench and walked into the building as he so often did. The first time Simon had to wait he was scared as hell. But after ten minutes his father was there again. But each time it got longer. After each visit, the wait got longer. Ten minutes became thirty. Thirty became sixty. And so on. But this one, the last, was the longest. There was a clock next to the door. Simon couldn't read the clock, of course, so he remembered where the two hands were. The longer one was on twelve, the shorter one on one. His mother taught him the numbers a few weeks ago. In Swedish and Spanish.

And so he waited. the little hand moved from one to two, to three, to four and the to five and Simon was starting to feel cold.
"Hello, little man." said a young woman who was now squatting in front of Simon. "Where are your parents?" she asked, tilting her head. A smile Simon only knew from his mother. "Mommy is home. Daddy is here." he said, pointing to the house. "Do you know the way home, little one? To your mommy's?" and Simon knew the way. The woman lifted him from the bench and Simon took her hand and led her home through the streets. They arrived at Simon's house and through the big window of the kitchen he saw his mama. She did not look happy. She was pacing up and down in the kitchen. The young woman rang the doorbell.

A few seconds later Linda opened the door and screamed with joy. "Simon!" she exclaimed, lifting him up and spinning him once in the air. "Go into the kitchen to your sister. There's food on the table. I'll be right there." And so Simon smiled again at the young woman and then went into the kitchen and greeted his sister.
Later that evening, he heard screaming coming from the kitchen. Sara came crawling into Simon's bed and hugged him tightly. Simon cried. At some point a door banged very loudly and Simon cried even more. He knew what it meant.

The building was known for drug dealing but the police were very ignorant about it. So Micke had managed to get a new dealer who lived in the same building as Micke's first drug dealer over two decades ago. "Yes?" a voice asked through the intercom. "It's Simon." he said, and the door opened. He walked up the steps to the apartment he needed to get to. The door was open a crack so he just walked in.

"Hello?" he asked into nothing. "Living room." said the voice, and Simon went after it. The closer he got to the living room, the stronger he got to the cigerette smell. And when he stood in the room, he saw the reason. A started cigerette in the guy's hand and a not even smoked one in the ashtray. "Waste." said Simon quietly to himself.
"What was that?" the guy asked.
"Nothing."
"You finally got the money?" he asked, and Simon nodded cautiously. He pulled out the small pile of banknotes.

"This isn't all of it, but every first Sunday for the next two months I can still bring you some money." explained Simon.
"Dude, you can just transfer it to me. We're not in the fucking mafia."
"Oh." said Simon, scratching his neck.
"Here's my paypal. Just... transfer okay?" said the guy and Simon nodded slightly.
"I'll be off then." said Simon and headed out.

Then in the doorway he paused and turned around again. "I... what's your name? I never asked."
A short silence.
"August." he said, and Simon nodded and left the building again.
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A/N The Clip of S3 I CAN'T. Brb screaming in the cornor in my room T.T