Memento Mori (MxM)

Chapter 12

Calael woke the following morning sprawled out across August's sleek leather sofa, faced by the large glass wall of his apartment leading out to the landscape of Manchester. His head was pounding and his throat was screaming at him; everything hurt. Including his jaw, which felt terribly sore, as though it was bruised, although he couldn't tell.

He couldn't even remember getting here. How had August hauled his drunken self up to the twelth floor? What time had they even left the Basement? Groaning, he sat up slowly and glanced around with steadily clearing vision at the rest of the lavish, modern apartment. He spotted an array of paintings and prints on the clean white walls, including a couple of his own, and a range of matching furniture; glossy black pieces, with silver embellishments. August had always been the stylish sort.

He spotted him finally, making tea at the kitchen island, already immaculately dressed and with his hair slicked back. He glanced up at his friend and gave a smile that seemed uncharacteristically reserved. "Ah, Calael. The dead rises. Still take two sugars?"

"Three today, I think.. What the fuck happened last night?"

August fell worryingly quiet for a moment, then chuckled nervously. "Well, you stopped me getting laid, for one thing.."

"Oh, Christ- what did I do, August? I remember some.. red head, giving me too much to drink. Not that you helped, I bet," Calael murmured, burying his head in his hands and attempting to clear his mind. "Abbandoning me like that.."

August sighed, watching him for a moment as the kettle boiled. "You weren't making any sense. You gave the lad this fake name, then started using the same name like.. Like they were an actual other person. It was all so confusing, I don't know, I figured you must have been off your head and took you home. But you can't stay all day, alright? I gotta work in an hour so I need you gone."

"Woah, August, slow down - what do you mean I gave a fake name? What name?"

"Artemus."

Calael's heart dropped into his stomach. "Oh. Oh, I see.. I've never met anyone with that name before. I must have been really pissed.."

"Are you sure? Because you were pretty damn sold on the whole thing up until you got your facts mixed up," August stated, looking skeptical. He brought the man his cup of tea, and sighed heavily as he sat down beside him. "Calael, you really freaked me out last night. You were acting like a complete mental case, mate, I'm worried."

"I was just drunk! There is nothing to fucking worry about!"

"People do weird shit when they're drunk, but not that. That was next level. That's like, split personality, schizophrenia levels of crazy!" August pressed.

Calael's lips drew into a thin line with irritation. "You're beginning to sound just like my dad; you're blowing this completely out of proportion. You can't just get a C in A-level psychology and assume you're fit to psycho-analyse all of your friends!"

"I'm not psycho-analysing, I'm showing completely justified concern. What happened to Harry was horrible, yes, but disappearing for months, dodging all my calls, then suddenly reappearing with no explanation..? I could have accepted that, I did accept it. But don't accuse me of abandoning you! Besides.. When you did finally show your face, getting black out drunk and acting like a basket case isn't really a recipe for some god damn normality! If this were reversed, you'd worry too. And just to top it off, you were mumbling the name in your sleep. 'Artemus, Artemus..' It's like you've made up this character and become convinced in it!"

Calael stood up abruptly now, his eyes narrowed. "I'm tired of this! I'm tired of people finding any excuse to label me as crazy just because Harry is dead! He's dead! I'm done with it, I'm over it, I want to move on on my own without anybody else examining my personality against a list of mental illnesses! It's ridiculous and it's insulting!"