Set Backs. || PURPLEPHONE

Three Broken Hearts: Three

"What is up with you?" Mike asked, glaring like an irritated teenager.

"Nothing's up with me," Vincent huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. He felt weird. His hip was lighter without the weight of his knife, and he felt insecure without it. "Just clean your room, that's all I'm asking."

"What, so you're my mom now?" Mike drawled sarcastically, "It's my room."

"It's my house," Vincent snapped, shoving Mike hard back into the wall and pinning him there before he even knew what he was doing. "You want me to kick you out on the street? I'm very aware that your renovations are almost finished, Schmidt, and I'm not gonna spend two hours scraping your junk out of my room once you go. Clean it yourself." He let go of Mike and brushed his hands on his shirt. "Gross."

Mike narrowed his eyes, glowering at Vincent. "One of these days, I'm going to get you arrested for those five children. You can't stop me."

"Tell it to the judge," Vincent growled,  "Come back to me once you have evidence other than just 'Vincent's a prick'."

"The police had all the evidence they needed, apart from motive and bodies. Everyone knows it was you, even your little boyfriend used to talk about it," Mike leaned against the wall casually, his eyes narrowing further.

Vincent went ridged, the slightest of tremors running through him, "Did he just?"

"Oh, yeah," Mike grinned, "Before he started developing goo-goo eyes for you, he was just like everyone else. Scott's a sap. Loves kids, hates criminality. The thought of anyone taking the lives of those poor, innocent little children... He was a mess after it happened. We weren't supposed to know you were under investigation, but it didn't take long for one of the police officers to open up to him, explaining all the reasons why you were the most likely suspect. Didn't you notice? Don't you remember the first time you two met? He just ignored you as much as he could, taking different shifts, avoiding conversation... but after the accident..."

"...after the accident is when our rivalry began..." Vincent mumbled, looking down at the floor. He shrugged. "Whatever. Whatever! Who cares if Scott isn't faithful to me!? It's not like I ever actually needed him for anything. It was fun while it lasted, but I knew from the start it wasn't going to last. No use getting upset over it." He turned away from Mike and started down the stairs.

Mike stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, the cogs turning in his head. Vincent's weird behaviour... the way he ignored him yesterday when he'd asked how Scott was...

"Woah, woah, woah!" Mike jumped down the stairs after Vincent, catching up with him. "You and Scott broke up?"

Vincent rolled his eyes, continuing down the stairs, "Is it really that much of a surprise? From what I just heard, there's more than one reason why he never trusted me."

"A-Are you kidding me? Of course that's a surprise! He... He was completely head over heels for you! You're telling me he just... broke up with you?" Mike frowned, remembering how Scott had seemed irritable yesterday at work. "So that's why he was acting so weird. He told me he had a hangover..."

"Mm," Vincent humphed, walking into the kitchen. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I don't care. He found someone better. Good for him. I'm sure they're very happy together."

"Found--? He cheated?" Mike asked, his brows shooting up, "You're trying to tell me he cheated?! No way! You weren't dating for more than two weeks! There's no way he could have gotten tired of you that quickly."

"Oh, for goodness' sakes," Vincent hissed. "Thanks for the reminder." His hands reached towards his belt instinctively, only to remember his knife was missing. A wave of near-panic overtook him. He hated losing his knife. He'd have to go back and get it later.

Mike blinked at Vincent, "Are you sure he cheated?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Vincent deadpanned. "If I see him screwing some other guy, it was just a 'slip-up'? Nah, I don't think so."

"You saw him what?!" Mike spluttered incredulously, "Wh-No way! That's n- I refuse to believe it."

"Well then don't, it's none of your business anyway," Vincent replied, his voice still monotonous and void of emotion.

All was silent for a while in the kitchen. Not a single sound permeated the quiet. Vincent stayed staring coolly off into space, Mike still looking nothing short of horrified.

"How are you feeling?"

Vincent raised his eyebrows, looking back at Mike. "I'm feeling like nosy idiots like you should keep out of other people's personal lives."

"No- You know what I mean. Break-ups aren't fun, I know. Scott and you were really close. It didn't take a genius to notice how happy you seemed every time he was around," Mike said.

Vincent scoffed, "So now you give a damn about what I think. I don't need your sympathy. If I want a psychologist I'll go to Linda."

Mike looked at Vincent sceptically for a moment, then sighed, "You're completely ignorant of your own feelings. You are a heartless bastard. I, for one, know that Scott is not coping well, not at all."

"Good for him," Vincent snapped.

Mike rolled his eyes, "Whatever. I'm going to clean my room. Try not to go on a crazed murder-spree."

"You're first on my list," Vincent quipped.

"Good, as long as I don't have to put up with your tough-guy act for any longer. Honestly, it's getting frustrating." Mike turned around and walked back up the stairs.

Vincent flipped him off behind his back and then huffed, looking the other way.

He had to go back and get his knife. Having no knife on him completely screwed him over. Without his knife he felt insecure and alone. His heart seemed heavy in his chest.

If only he'd looked a little deeper inside of himself, he would have found that the knife made no difference to what he was feeling.