Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Naib reflected on his life choices every day.

What went wrong in his life that he condemned himself to such a fate? Ah, yes. He was to blame, not entirely, not only, but mostly. He got himself into it, he fucking got himself into it all. He was in trouble, physically, spiritually, he was simply in big trouble, damn the supernatural forces, fate.

Norton lived with him.

But you can't just say that. So what if he lived there? Naib was willing to accept that. Say, "Okay." The most important and devastating thing for Naib, his wallet, his life, his future, his existence, and everything else, was that Norton fucking Campbell lived here completely rent-free.

It was like a tapeworm in his metaphysical belly, eating him from the inside out, draining him of energy day by day. Naib would sometimes think, "Oh well, I'm going to die," and then find a few gray hairs, or so he thought, or so he felt.

But that was only the beginning, when, without knowing why, he agreed to let Norton stay overnight for a few days. His financial situation wasn't the best. Or rather, it simply didn't exist. Norton existed beyond the concept of "financial situation."

Naib, however, didn't know why he was bothered at all. Some kind spirit of kindness had entered him, perhaps Mother Teresa of Calcutta had regenerated within him for those few moments of weakness.

"One night... maybe two," he'd told him once, as they sat on the university pitch, waiting for Ganji and William to stop being sports freaks. Naib was also sometimes that fit guy from your neighborhood with them, but today he wasn't in the mood.

“One” Naib said then, and he really thought he was telling the truth.

Naib sometimes wondered how his relationship with Norton had ever come to be. He concluded that the stars must have truly hated him to have condemned him to the Sisyphus of being friends with Norton.

At first, they weren't even close. They met through friends. Naib wasn't fond of Norton, who always seemed strange to him, very strange.

And yet it was probably Subedar who was chosen by Campbell, who began to treat him like some old friend of his with whom he had known for 40 years and who was the godfather of his child.

They'd usually meet up alone. Naib often went to KFC after work, and somehow Norton always found himself there, too, and it would end with Naib buying him chicken or Norton simply stealing his wings as if nothing had happened.

It irritated Naib, for sure, it must have irritated him like hell. But he never said anything. He just watched as Norton devoured his fries, pushing them closer to him.

It was a tactic, he thought. A clever one.

In general, despite considering Norton a complete loser, Naib sometimes appreciated his ingenuity. He always knew what to say to whom, how to react. Naib later discovered Norton's meticulous notes, which he kept meticulously documenting every detail about his friends. Naturally, to profit from them.

Naib wasn't there. But he wasn't surprised. What more could Norton get from him? He lived in his house, ate his food, slept in his sheets, wore his clothes even though his pants were way too short, and stole money from his jacket pockets. Naib knew all this, but over time, he simply stopped and adapted to the new environment of living with Campbell.

It's not like Naib hadn't tried to turn Norton away from his parasitic ways before, but he could have pointed it out to him, politely, rudely, playfully. He tried everything. He could have yelled at him and punched him in the face. But none of it worked. Norton felt at home, and nothing could change that, so Subedar simply stopped rolling that Sisyphean stone.

Yet, seeing Norton isolate himself more and more from the world day by day, doing more and more of nothing, lying on the couch or in his bed, was quite worrying for Naib.

A man shouldn't live like this. It's bad for him and the society he lives in. But Naib could do nothing but listen to Campbell's discourse, who was a quiet, mysterious presence in society, but a loudmouth in Naib's presence.

He talked about everything, about his passion for gold mines and the whole Klondike thing, about the injustice of the world, about some other stupid idea of ​​his that would make him a fortune.

Norton, however, didn't talk about the past. Naib didn't bring it up either, because he himself wasn't willing to talk about it to anyone, not even Norton.

But he knew that Campbell was an illegal immigrant, just like him. Now they were both here. In the States, in a colorful neon dream, an American movie, as Norton said, is a completely different reality.

“You know what, Subedar?” Norton said once when they were both sitting on Naib's couch watching another cheap romance movie Naib had brought home from work.

“What?” said Naib in a sleepy voice.

It was late, maybe 2 a.m. Subedar had work in the morning.

“Our lives are the same,“ Norton pointed at the TV.

For some reason, this one always made me ask after each sentence when he was going to discover some other America of his mind.

Naib looked at the TV, where a woman and a man, whose actor Naib even recognized from other productions, were making out in a car.

“What?” he looked at Norton again, waiting for a metaphor.

“Like those stupid movies” Norton leaned back on the couch, resting on his hand, which he placed behind his head.

He waited for the next question, but Naib wasn't going to ask it, this was getting ridiculous.

"You know," Norton hesitated a bit, seeing where the scene on screen was leading. "It's just as artificial and unrealistic as that stupid movie, will she fuck him?" He paused for a moment.

Naib looked at the TV again.

"Back. We just play the same, we just perform our roles, just like them. We feel like it's all real, and there's really nothing," Campbell's thoughts unleashed a torrent of words, "but the worst part is that even though in this fucking American movie, everything is better than in real life, our roles are so insignificant and trashy that we're still, over and over again, just as tormented as before. Less so, of course, because it's America, but still this fucking fight with the invisible fucking soldiers of capitalism who defend these poor, rich people, so that only those who are condemned and whose role is to toil like slaves want for nothing. We," he pointed to himself, then to Naib, "we're here to work, and they're here to lie on their asses."

“You've been doing the same thing for three months” Naib couldn't stand it, but then he regretted it a little.

"That's different," Norton said, unconcerned. "We are different. Even when we're not lying around and doing something, our situation remains hopeless. Because we can't change anything. It's a lottery. You know, even if I worked like you, like some farmhand, what difference would it make?" he paused.

Naib began to get a headache from Norton's subsequent philosophical outbursts.

"Nothing, exactly nothing. Because we're plebs, prudes, and we mean nothing. No matter what we do, if fortune doesn't smile on us, then fuck us." The couple on screen actually gives in to intercourse, and Norton's monologue is interrupted by the sounds of the film couple. "We can fight this invisible hand and achieve nothing. NOTHING. It's supposed to be America. It's supposed to be better, but it's still the same shit. That's why I don't see the point."

Naib closed his eyes as he did so, not listening to the cacophony of sounds.

"Everything sucks," Norton said after a moment of thought.

Naib often listened to his complaints about the unfairness of life and how he couldn't do anything about it. He partly agreed, thinking perhaps they really had it hard enough. But for Naib, what he had now was enough. Finally, some peace, right? Daily life, ordinary duties. It was so normal, a little strange, but normal.

The scene ended and Naib turned off the TV.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Norton commented.

“Go to sleep now, or I'll die at work tomorrow” Naib left the TV and stood in front of the couch, where Norton was sitting, still in a bad mood.

Subedar, seeing that he was still not moving, simply started walking towards the room.

“But you agree with me, right?“ Norton said after him.

Naib sighed, already exhausted beyond belief by this idiot. But Norton loved such topics and always dragged them on for so long that everything he said seemed to repeat itself, and Naib felt as if it could go on forever.

“Come to sleep or stay on the couch, because you won't be able to turn on the light.”

Norton groaned like an old man and got up from the couch.

“Okay, we'll talk tomorrow” he overtook Subedar and entered the tiny bedroom, which only had room for a bed and a not-too-big old wardrobe.

Naib followed him and automatically flopped onto the bed, face down on the mattress.

"Life is a misery," Norton said, also lying down on the uncomfortable, old mattress of their small shared bed.

They had been sleeping like this for some time when, one day, Norton decided the couch was uncomfortable and moved to the bed. Naib gave him a few slaps in the face, but he didn't get rid of him from his bed, which Norton often kicked out of initially. Fortunately, thanks to the discipline of inflicting pain on a sleeping Campbell, he learned to stop this behavior. Naib then commented that a sleeping Norton was a really quick learner.

And that's exactly how they functioned now. They slept in the same bed, ate and drank from the same utensils, and used the same clothes and towels.

Subedar was used to it being like this and didn't even think it would ever change in the future and didn't see it as a bad thing... Only Norton, who couldn't move forward and was stuck in one place, worried Naib.

****

Norton didn't talk much. He never did. That was just the way he was. Why should he talk? Speaking was difficult because he had to think of how to put his thoughts into words, but nothing ever sounded the way he thought it, so it never made sense. Besides, people didn't matter to him at all. They were there, and he was there, but Norton didn't feel that so-called species connection with them.

He was sitting in his room. Still his room, for how long? Who the fuck knows. He stared at the ceiling, just like he did yesterday. William had been there the day before, so Norton tried to pretend he didn't spend all day lying in bed and contemplating the absurdity of all his life decisions. But it was better, so why?

Never mind, he said, trying to silence his thoughts. Never mind.

He finally got up and decided he had to do something, that he couldn't stand to sit in this musty room filled with his farts any longer. As if Norton had anything left to fart with.

The last time he'd eaten was probably the day before yesterday, when William had been over and brought him a meal, because for some reason the man had taken it upon himself to take care of Norton. It wasn't that he had anything against it; in fact, he was glad to have William in his life, someone from whom he could get food for free. But at that moment, Norton was so fed up with his whining about rugby or whatever sport he played that he chose starvation.

He definitely needs to get out, get some fresh air, he thought.

Norton donned his well-worn black coat. He reached into his pocket, and a smile spread across his face. A smile so wide, so genuine, so real. There were a few coins inside. He pulled them out and began counting them carefully.

A dollar and forty cents, he calculated.

He closed his eyes and pondered. He reached into the deepest recesses of his mind to find a use for this saving money.

Food. Cheap. Fast food. He thought.

He began putting on his shoes, worn as they were, like his grandfather's coat, which were several sizes too big, and shoes with soles, though glued, stitched, and repaired in many other ways, were still a little falling off. But Norton couldn't care about that now. Not now, when he was rich, he'd take care of it, he assured himself as he looked at those moccasins with disgust.

He went out, and the day was warm, even though it was March, so Norton wasn't bothered by the lack of a scarf he'd sold a few days ago. Now Norton felt like he was in the best American movie. He was going out to eat, he was young, handsome, and had a wonderful future ahead of him. Life was good, wasn't it? Maybe the last one wasn't true, but Norton had chosen his delusion of being a future millionaire today and didn't care about anything.

He began to walk cheerfully, but not overly cheerfully. He still had to remain mysterious. Let his joy be mysterious. So he put on a faint smile, and his step quickened only a little.

He scanned the first fast food joint he came across. KFC. Perfect, Norton liked chicken. If he could afford something other than fries, ha ha.

He opened the door, elegantly, casually, without exaggeration, yet with a clear indication that HE was coming in to order something to eat.

But no one noticed. No one. There wasn't even anyone at the register. The place was practically empty. Norton wiped his nose and smiled at this new information. Very good. But something, or rather someone, caught his eye.

He glanced at the boy sitting at the table by the window. His back was turned, but Norton still found him strangely familiar. That green hood, Norton had seen him somewhere. No, not that green Irish clown. Ah yes, that's the guy, he thought, and without hesitation, he approached his table.

Once there, his thoughts suddenly returned to what he was actually doing. What was he doing?

The boy looked at Norton over the fries he was devouring, because it couldn't be called eating.

"Campbell?" he asked Norton, still eating his fries.

“Oh it's you” Norton looked a little embarrassed.

They talked like that sometimes when they met up with friends. Well, he'd talk to Norton, and Norton would mumble something, but Norton didn't think he would even remember him, let alone his name, which he pronounced as strangely as everything he always said in English. He wasn't from the States, that's for sure. Besides, Americans didn't speak English properly, according to Norton.

Norton sat down across from him, and the brunette raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. He drank his Pepsi.

It felt awkward, strange. Norton didn't understand why he'd sat there. He hadn't thought it through.

"So," he began, but he had no thoughts in his head. He hadn't prepared a question, so he blurted out, "Do you come here often?"

Naib Subedar, yes, Norton finally remembered. Thank God he doesn't have to ask his name.

“Often” Naib's answer was short and quick, which caught Norton off guard.

“How often?“ he asked without thinking for even a second.

Naib began to slurp from his glass cup and when there was nothing left to slurp, he set it aside.

“I don't know” he said, moving the straw to the second cup “Every day, I guess.”

"It's my first time," Norton said.

Naib looked at him.

"Aren't you ordering?" he asked. "You order at the counter here," he added, pointing a fry at the counter, where a woman was now standing.

Norton turned and looked at her, then back at Naib, whose expression was so blank and tired that Norton felt as if he hadn't been starving for two days, and Naib hadn't eaten or slept for a month.

“I don't have money” he didn't think again, he just said.

Naib's expression changed slightly, but Norton couldn't read it. He was usually good at that. Studying people's faces, then delving into their minds. Norton was sensitive to detail, but Naib's expression was unreadable. Perhaps it was the scars next to his mouth, one on either side, so symmetrical, that distracted him. Norton focused his full attention on them.

"William said something about you not having the best of luck lately," Naib finally said. "Have you had breakfast?"

It was half past two, so Norton should have had breakfast by now.

“No” he replied and wanted to stop looking at those scars, but they wouldn't leave him alone.

Naib pushed a plate of fries toward him. Norton automatically reached for them.

"Thanks," he said. "What happened to your mouth?" He pointed to the corners of his mouth with his finger and a French fry.

Naib narrowed his eyes, resting his face on his hand.

“Don't worry, or you'll get a kick in the face” he replied.

Norton felt a little strange. He'd never heard that saying before, and it was said so strangely in English with his accent.

“Okay cool” he replied, continuing to eat Naib’s fries.

American cool, he thought proudly as he said "cool" in such a cool way.

"You can eat them all," Naib said as he watched Norton devour them.

“Thanks”, he replied with a mouth full of fries.

Naib just nodded. He looked so tired that Norton felt as if he'd just emerged from the mine after three days in the dark. Unfortunately, Norton knew what that felt like.

“A lot of work?” he asked.

"A lot," Naib replied, yawning involuntarily. "Night on the sink tonight," he said.

“Where do you work?”

"Everywhere I can," he replied. "I'm looking for something permanent."

“I know how it is” Norton patted him on the shoulder as if he were his son who came with an F in math.

“Are you looking for a job too?” Naib asked, going back to drinking his Pepsi.

“Yeah”, Norton replied.

Their conversation was interrupted, however, when another familiar face walked into KFC. It was Eli, he thought.

Eli Clark was one of his friends here. He actually owed the guy a lot for helping him find a place to stay when Campbell came here, lost, to another state, all alone. They didn't talk much after that, but Norton saw Eli as a good friend.

Eli quickly noticed him and immediately approached their table.

Naib turned around when he was already standing right next to him.

Norton stared at the brown-haired man and saw another mysterious expression cross his face. Not anger, not sadness, not irritation, what was it? But he saw his lips quiver slightly when he saw Eli.

They didn't like each other? They were good friends, as far as Norton knew.

Norton liked to research people he'd potentially see at least once a week. So he also learned a little about Naib. Not much. He knew he was friends with Eli, and they had other mutual friends. He knew he lived alone, now in an apartment because he'd recently moved out of his room, supposedly unable to stand his roommate. A quarrelsome type, Norton thought. But whenever he talked to Naib, he seemed completely calm, even pleasant, and somehow normal?

Norton didn't know why, but he always felt so comfortable talking to Naib? It was a mystery.

“Naib, we need to talk”, Eli said immediately.

He was tense, Norton could see it. Something had happened, something had to happen for sure. Norton waited to see how this scene would unfold.

“I already told you we have nothing to talk about" Naib went back to eating the fries he had offered to Norton a moment ago.

His face seemed calm, but his tone of voice and those still-twitching lips betrayed his concern. Fear?

"Naib, please." Eli remained standing, not even paying attention to Norton, whom he must have noticed first. But Norton didn't want to be noticed right now; he simply watched this bizarre scene in silent anticipation.

"I have nothing more to say to you, let me eat in peace and piss off," said Naib, shoving a handful of freshly offered and taken fries into his mouth, much to Norton's sadness.

“I'll call you tonight, okay?” Eli was still standing, and Norton suddenly looked so pathetic.

He should go now, Norton thought. He definitely should.

Naib didn't say anything to this, and after a moment Eli left. A strange silence fell.

“Is something wrong between you two?” Norton asked, but immediately wanted to bite his tongue.

What does he care, he doesn't care. But maybe he should ask, or maybe not? If Eli treated him like air, maybe he should treat what he saw like air too?

"Nothing," replied Naib shortly and sharply, looking at Norton with an icy look.

But he just pushed the plate of fries closer to him again and said nothing more. So Norton began eating as if the scene had never even happened.

Silence fell, and Norton began to panic a little. Sometimes the silence scared him, now it scared him, so he decided to ask.

“Where are you from? You have a strange accent.”

“From Nepal” Naib started doing something on his Nokia.

Damn guy has a Nokia, he must be really wealthy.

"Me too," Norton said, and Naib looked at him for a moment, intent. "I mean, I'm not from the states either," he explained.

"I know," Naib said. "You're from Ireland, right?"

“Yeah”

“Illegally?”

Norton was taken aback by the question. Previously, no one, except the guys he came here with illegally, had ever asked him whether he was here legally or not.

“Illegally” he said slowly, staring into the blue eyes that were boring into him from the inside, but they soon stopped seeming boring because Naib said:

“Me too.”

Norton felt the weight on his back, carried by God knows how much, fall off him.

“Why did you come to the states?” Naib asked.

“For money,” Norton replied.

“Too” Naib added quickly, still doing something on the Nokia 5000.

"And for a better future." Norton didn't know why he hadn't shut up yet. "Ireland is poor. You have to be born rich there to have anything, so cross there for me."

Naib nodded at this.

“It's not the best in Nepal either... “ but he didn't say anything more.

"But you know? America was supposed to promise us everything, and so far I don't see the difference." Norton leaned his hands on the table and rested his head on them.

“What does that mean?” Naib was clearly interested in some sentences that had not been registered by Nortin's brain.

“Life is just as shitty” Norton looked at Naib, who was staring at him again.

“It's better” Naib began “In my opinion it's better.”

Norton pondered.

"It's better," he began. "But it's not as it should be," he finished.

“So?” Naib asked impatiently.

"I'd like to stop working just to get through the next day. Toiling for next to nothing, knowing I won't build a future out of it. I'll have food, that's true, maybe even a place to sleep, but beyond that? Absolutely nothing. Because either you're born under a bright star, or you're just another gray mass whose only occupation is work, work, work, and getting paid for it. Does that kind of suck? No?" Norton hadn't said this much in a while, so his throat was dry, and besides, the salt from the fries had turned his esophagus into a sahara. So he reached for a Naib Pepsi.

“It's better to be a gray mass than to be left with nothing” he shrugged and didn't even notice when Norton poured him half a Pepsi.

“This is accepting the injustice of this world”, commented Norton.

Naib rolled his eyes. Oh how Norton now wished he'd drank all that fucking Pepsi.

"Listen," Naib began. "It's better to live a decent life than to live like garbage or not live at all, don't you think?"

"It's not even about choices. Nobody has a choice, doesn't that seem terrifying to you? You're born and either you face an uphill battle in life or you slide down it like a sled. So what if someone else has it worse than me? It doesn't mean I can't be angry at the world for having to be born poor, having to live poor, and even knowing I'll die poor. Just because that's what fucking fate decided." Norton hasn't said this much in a long time.

Naib thought for a moment and narrowed his eyes. Norton thought it was something the short man did when he was focusing all his brain cells into one.

“Don't you think it's pointless to waste your life thinking about all this injustice over which you have no influence?”

What fools. Any sympathy Norton had for this Naib had just burst like a soap bubble. He doesn't understand, Norton thought, he's narrow-minded, an idiot.

"You don't understand me," Norton interrupted nonchalantly and stuffed the last handful of fries into his mouth.

“As you wish”, said Naib and sighed.

Norton licked his fingers and looked back at Naib, who had leaned back in his seat, almost falling asleep. Norton could see the dark circles under his eyes and the sunken cheeks, and even the faintest hint of a crease between his eyebrows, or maybe his eyebrows had simply twitched and couldn't return to their calm form after his verbal defeat with Norton.

"Go to sleep," Norton said finally. "You look like a corpse."

Naib opened one eye and smiled, which confused Norton.

“Who's talking?” he said.

Norton snorted.

“Thanks for the fries” he started to get up.

"Cool, I hope you survive on them for the next few days before someone hires you for president or you win the lottery," he continued smiling. Stupid.

Norton, however, involuntarily smiled too.

“Hang in there,” he patted Naib on the shoulder and left.

He came home and went to sleep and then actually didn't eat anything for another day and then went to KFC again.

Chapter Text

Norton was left homeless. He couldn't do anything about it when his landlord furiously stormed into his room and announced that he would either move out or her cronies would carry him out.

Norton was a little scared by the word "cronies," so as soon as she left he started packing his little suitcase.

He was a poor man, there's no point in hiding much. He had so few clothes, due to his profession of being a victim of poverty, that they easily fit in there.

What to do? - he thought as he packed his toiletries.

Norton didn't have a plan. He hadn't anticipated being thrown out on the street so quickly. In truth, Norton had hoped to charm the old woman somehow, telling a story about his sad past and his wife, to whom he sends all his earnings. But unfortunately, he didn't have time to use his flirting skills.

Now he stood in front of his old apartment building, looking at it with a strange longing. Was Norton homeless? The thought terrified him. He'd always had a place where he could rot in bed and do absolutely nothing but ponder his philosophy of life and read books about the adventures of gold prospectors. But now, he had no place to hide anymore.

"Damn," he said, and began biting his nails, which were already completely worn out. "What am I supposed to do?"

But of course, no one answered him. It was bad. Norton started walking in any direction. Maybe he'd go to William? No, that was out of the question. It wasn't that he didn't like him, but William was exhausting, so Norton left him as a last resort.

Norton now stood there frozen, wondering what he should do. He tried to remember everyone he knew.

He immediately had a brilliant idea: Melly. Melly, his girlfriend. Yes, they'd been together for six months. Melly would definitely put him up for a few nights until he got himself together. So he immediately headed for her house.

Melly didn't live far from his previous place, and Norton knew his way around very well. Admittedly, they hadn't been talking much lately, as Melly was studying at university and didn't have time for Norton. Norton said it was fine and didn't really care. In fact, he admired her for her studies and passion.

The road passed in a flash, and Norton was already standing in front of her apartment. He was a little surprised at how close they lived, and he hadn't seen Melly in over a month.

Suddenly, fear gripped him. What if Melly didn't take him? What was he supposed to tell her? He couldn't tell her he'd lost his job so long ago and been kicked out of his apartment. He couldn't say that, he was Norton Campbell, after all, so embarrassing himself like that was out of the question, especially in front of Melly.

He hesitated just as he was about to knock. "Maybe he'll ring the bell?" he thought, and was now pondering whether he should knock or ring the bell. Ultimately, he decided to ring.

He didn't wait long, as Melly appeared in the doorway. As always, her hair was tied up and she wore a scarf. Norton immediately noticed the scar on her face, so similar to his. He liked that scar; it gave Melly's face a mysterious air.

"Norton," he heard her voice, usually emotionless, but now he sensed something in it. "What are you doing here?" she added immediately, glaring at him.

"Hey Melly," Norton said and tried to smile, but she didn't smile back, so Norton hesitated a bit and finally his mouth just made some strange expression that didn't resemble anything.

Melly continued to wait for Norton to say more, standing in the doorway, watching him with her arms folded.

Norton was usually very good at faking confidence and charisma, but now he suddenly felt like a child crying over a puzzle. So he scratched his head like a fool and finally spoke, after about two minutes of awkward silence.

“I have a problem with the apartment”, he said.

“And?” Melly still stood unmoved.

"Could you put me up for a few nights, Melly?" he asked, making one of his best puppy ​​eyes.

Melly narrowed her eyes and stared at Norton intently.

“Are you having any problems?“ She raised an eyebrow.

"A little," Norton replied. He had to think of something. "The landlord got into trouble and wanted to sell the whole building, so he kicked us out," he lied, as if it were common knowledge for him.

“Yhym” Melly looked at him suspiciously, but finally moved away from the door and invited him in. “Okay, come on in.”

And Norton went to her apartment. Not large, but very cozy.

Melly, like Norton, enjoyed collecting various items. However, her interest was focused on insects, particularly bees from various tropical regions. Therefore, there were many items related to her passion.

She pointed to the couch as they entered the small living room and Norton took off his shoes and sprawled.

“Is that all you have?” Melly asked, seeing Norton's tiny suitcase.

"Yes," Norton replied.

That wasn't all, but Norton didn't have the energy to gather his stones from his old room. Maybe he'd come back for them someday, but now, suddenly, he didn't care.

"Want something to drink?" Melly asked, opening the fridge. "I have a Coke," she said, and pulled out a glass bottle.

"I'd love to," Norton said.

Melly opened the Coke with a bottle opener and handed it to him.

"You look like a homeless person," she said, looking at Norton.

Well, she wasn't actually wrong. Norton, however, felt offended.

"It's hard with work," he said finally, and his tone sounded serious, so succinct.

Melly nodded.

“You sleep on the sofa by the way” she pointed to the couch.

"Not with you?" Norton asked, but he didn't even know why. But couples probably did that.

"No," Melly said, giving him a stern look. "You snore and kick people out of bed, Norton, and I need to get enough sleep for tomorrow's classes. Besides, man."

They slept together in the same bed once, and Melly never invited him over for sleepovers again, complaining about his sleep talking, snoring, grinding his teeth, taking the duvet, and kicking her out of bed.

Norton wondered if it was true that he was actually such a terrible bedmate that even his girlfriend wouldn't sleep with him.

"Okay," Norton said, trying to sound offended, but he wasn't particularly so. "What classes do you have tomorrow?"

"I have to do a project," Melly replied, and her eyes lit up, even though they were almost hidden behind the scarf, but Norton knew they lit up, like they always did when she talked about her hobby and then started saying some details about her project that Norton didn't understand.

Norton loved it when Melly talked about it. It was so relaxing, even though he didn't understand half of what she was saying, but seeing her so absorbed in it was enough for him. Passionate people were always interesting and captivating to Norton.

Melly, however, left shortly afterward. She said she was going to Alice's and that Norton shouldn't make a mess in her house, but that he should eat something because he'd lost weight recently.

So Norton willingly obeyed his girlfriend's orders and devoured half her fridge. Then he sprawled on the sofa, because the food gave him a stomach ache. He'd recently eaten a cheeseburger from Naib's. "I wonder how Naib's doing," he thought, but then wondered why he cared.

But Norton had to admit that Naib looked like a walking zombie these days. Not that he was any better, because he looked like a corpse too, but he wasn't in the best financial situation, so it was understandable. And what was going on with that halfling? Did he really work that hard?

Norton shuddered as he thought about his past and how he'd spent his teenage years working himself to the bone. Now those memories seemed so distant, as if his entire life had been just a silly dream, one you slowly forgot as the days went by. Norton, too, had forgotten sometimes what it was like. Norton had been forgetting a lot lately.

He became distracted as his thoughts wandered to Ireland. A terrible place, he finally thought.

He settled himself more comfortably on Melly's sofa and decided he'd get a little sleep, as his eyes were starting to close on their own. Sleep, sleep, sleep.

And he fell asleep, but his sleep didn't last long, for he soon heard voices. He was half asleep when he saw two faces. He couldn't recognize them. Who was it?

He stared, not understanding where he was or what was happening.

“Hello Norton” the woman's voice woke him up a bit from the lethargy he had fallen into for a moment.

“Hi” he replied automatically and finally saw her “Alice?”

The blonde smiled slightly, but Norton thought it was a bit of a fake smile.

“Don't pay any attention to him” said Melly and threw her bag with notebooks straight at Norton, completely ignoring him.

Norton finally sat down on the couch. Alice and Melly sat at the table in the open kitchen.

"So," Alice said, looking at Norton, "How's it going over there?"

Good question, of course.

"Not so good," Norton replied shortly.

He could never connect with Alice. She always seemed too formal to him. Besides, she was Orpheus's sister, so Norton felt a bit reserved towards her.

"He's a mess, Alice," Melly said. "He came in here looking like he hadn't changed his clothes in two months and asked if he could stay the night." Melly loved explaining Norton and making him look like a loser at every opportunity, and Norton knew it.

Alice smiled at Melly, but it was a completely different smile than the one she gave Norton.

"I understand," she looked at Norton. "I hope everything clears up soon," she added, flashing that fake smile again.

What does it mean? Mercy? Yes, it was mercy. Norton sighed at that.

"I hope you get your act together soon, Norton," Melly added. "I won't be supporting you, and I agreed to let you stay overnight because you look that way, and because of an old friendship."

Norton wasn't listening to Melly anymore. Suddenly, Melly and Alice seemed like the eternally judgmental aunts at Christmas Eve dinner. Norton knew full well he'd hit rock bottom; why even talk about it anymore?

Alice and Melly started talking about some school project, but Norton wasn't listening anymore. Besides, he could see how absorbed they were in each other's company, so Norton had no intention of interrupting them; he didn't even feel like talking to them right now.

The air in this apartment now felt so suffocating, as if he were in a hive. He didn't know why he'd used that phrase in his head, maybe because Melly reminded him of a bee, and now they both felt like bees, or maybe more like wasps.

"I'll go out for a moment," Norton said suddenly and got up from the couch.

Melly and Alice looked at him, surprised by his sudden reaction.

"Okay," Melly said. "We'll be at the apartment, but you have to be back by 10 p.m., preferably earlier," she added, looking at Norton like a strict teacher.

Norton liked that look, so he smiled slightly.

“Of course, mom.”

And he left.

He didn't know why he decided to leave, but he felt like he needed some air. Norton sometimes felt that way in company. He suddenly felt socially claustrophobic when everyone was talking to him or about him, and he couldn't stand it.

Usually, this happened in larger groups, but today Melly and Alice seemed so mean to him that he had to leave quickly. Norton didn't like to see Melly when things weren't going his way, so after he got fired, he stopped visiting her, didn't even write to her. Besides, he didn't have a phone, and writing letters to an apartment ten minutes from his seemed incredibly weird.

Norton wandered the streets of town, hands in his coat pockets, staring at his feet, lost in his thoughts, which kept jumping from topic to topic, unable to focus on anything. It was so unnerving.

Suddenly, he stopped automatically in front of a KFC. He looked through the glass doors. "Was he there?" he asked himself. "But why do I need him?" he began a monologue with his inner self. "I'm full, so I don't need to see him today."

Norton saw Naib as an easy target for free meals, so he latched onto him. He was less irritating than William.

Naib didn't actually talk that much. Norton said he seemed to talk more when they were together, which was very unusual, he had to admit.

He saw a green hoodie, always in the same place.

Norton didn't think twice and opened the door to the fast food restaurant. He immediately walked over to Naib's table, without any fuss. He simply sat down in front of him.

"Campbell," Naib said lazily, munching on his fries. "Want some?" He pushed the plate to the center.

“No, thanks, I ate”, he said, staring stubbornly at the brunette.

He was a little surprised at what Norton could read through the slight raise of his eyebrows, which he was observing closely. He focused his full attention on them at that moment. He read it! Ha, he did it, he finally read it.

Norton suddenly received a boost of confidence. He felt like a master of the universe. A master of faces, reading people like books—that was Norton at that moment.

He smiled mischievously at these thoughts, pleased with himself, and crossed his arms, leaning on the back of the seat.

"I see you're doing well," Naib said, and Norton could see his scars rising slightly. A barely visible smile.

"Of course," Norton said proudly.

"You know? I never thought I'd see you full at KFC. It makes no sense." Naib looked at him mysteriously. Or maybe it just seemed mysterious to Norton, but somehow questioning.

"I came here by accident. I didn't plan to," Norton said, not knowing why, as he began to explain. "I just saw you, so I came over, and I don't have anything better to do anyway."

Naib looked at him for a moment, then went back to eating his fries.

"You eat a lot," Norton said.

"Yeah," he agreed, his mouth full of chicken and fries, which he immediately doused with Pepsi. He signaled with his hand that Norton should wait until he swallowed. "I like to eat," he added when he was finally able. "And KFC is ambrosia from heaven."

Norton smiled at the odd comparison, reaching for Naib's Pepsi, who didn't even seem to notice.

“You don't show it”, he replied, still smiling.

“Are you saying I'm short?” Naib raised an eyebrow.

"And tiny," Norton added. "I guess eating doesn't make you grow taller."

Ha, he was so pleased with himself now, it worked, he had him.

"Who's talking?" Naib began, leaning a little toward Norton. "You're as skinny as a skeleton yourself," he said.

Norton shrugged.

"That's the life of the poor, you know? When you have no money, you have no food," he replied, even a little proud of himself for some reason.

"Someone fed you today," Naib noted. "Are you begging now?"

Norton, surprisingly, wasn't irritated by this statement.

"I'm staying with my girlfriend," Norton said with some pride.

"Wow," he heard only from Naib. "No, really, wow."

“What?” Norton shot a look at Naib.”Is it really that unlikely that I could be in a relationship with someone?”

Naib rested his hands on the table and rested his head on them. Norton thought he looked like that sculpture of the thinker.

“Honestly?” he finally spoke. “-Well, yes, it seemed really improbable.”

Norton took a fry from his plate and threw it at him, to which Naib just smiled but then took a fry too and threw it at Norton.

"I'm not the loser you think I am," Norton snapped and ate the french fry that was thrown at him.

"You are," Naib said, but he was still smiling.

Norton couldn't deny that it was a really pretty smile. Especially because of the scars next to his mouth, which Norton found so appealing. And the fact that Naib usually kept the corners of his mouth turned down, so it was a truly different expression than his usual one, which gave it added power.

"Who's bigger?" Norton smiled too. "Me? Or you, a four-time employee earning as much as a kid selling lemonade."

"Listen, at least me and these kids are making some money. Maybe if you took some advice from some cash-grubber about starting that business you've been dreaming of, your situation would improve somewhat."

“Pff,” Norton laughed. “Maybe I'll ask if they'll hire me, what do you think?”

“You?” Naib looked at Norton, pretending to scan him. “-I sincerely doubt it.”

“Are you saying I'm ugly?” Norton suddenly felt somehow offended, it annoyed him that Naib might think he was ugly.

Naib just shrugged.

“Ha?” Norton couldn't react differently to this reaction, because he expected something more.

“You don't look bad” Naib began “but you're not cut out to be a lemonade seller, I'm sorry, you have to accept that, Campbell.”

“You know I wanted to be an actor someday” Norton suddenly changed the topic of their conversation completely, but he often had this with Naib.

It was easy to talk to him because he ignored Norton's chaotic way of speaking and just flowed when he started on some totally unrelated topic.

“And why didn't you become one?” Naib looked at him and Norton felt a little proud that he now had his attention.

He pointed to the scar on his face.

“Because of this.”

"In my opinion, a scar like that adds character," he said, and tried to drink his Pepsi, but there was nothing left. "Did you fucking drink my Pepsi?"

“Sorry” Norton wasn't sorry, and he knew Naib knew he wasn't sorry. “The scar hinders playing different roles. Perhaps it would be perfect for one, but for all of them? It's as if every director had to write stories specifically for that scar, because it's quite unusual, right?”

"I don't know," Naib shrugged. "I just see myself watching a movie with you and thinking, 'What a cool scar he has.'"

“-Do you think it's cool?” Norton asked immediately.

Naib smiled at this and narrowed his eyes.

"Looks good," Naib finally said.

Norton was suddenly very pleased with himself and didn't hide it, rubbing his nose with a smile and leaning back more firmly against the backrest.

"Are you that eager for compliments?" Naib was already wiping his face, which was covered in various sauces, something Norton hadn't even noticed before. He finished eating.

"Sometimes hearing something flattering about yourself is a nice experience," Norton replied, nodding to himself at these words.

"Doesn't your girlfriend tell you that every day?" Naib asked, also leaning back in his chair.

"I haven't talked to her in a month," Norton said immediately, but then tried to bite his tongue. Why is he revealing himself like some idiot? He and Melly are a happy couple and planning a wedding—that's the delusion he should be spreading.

Naib raised an eyebrow at this.

“-Are you sure she's your girlfriend?”

"We didn't break up," Norton said, but he suddenly started to think very hard about his whole relationship with Melly.

“But you haven't talked for a month?” Naib was surprised and even got a little worried, which surprised Norton.

"Well, it happens," Norton shrugged, having no idea what to answer.

"You're impossible," Naib said and started laughing, and Norton didn't even feel embarrassed and was even happy to see Naib laughing.

They chatted for a while about Norton's patheticness and Naib's overwork, when he suggested:

“Let's go somewhere, I have the day off anyway, and you're homeless and unemployed, so I guess you have nothing planned.”

Norton, surprised by this sudden offer, glanced at Naib's tray. He had indeed eaten his KFC a long time ago, so there was no point in staying at KFC.

“Okay,” Norton said and started to get up immediately.

They left; it was already a bit colder in the field. Norton, in his old coat and without a scarf, was starting to feel a bit cold. Naib was dressed warmly, and Norton even commented that he dressed really cool.

“You dress cool”, he said.

Naib looked at him.

“I wear clothes made of rags or gifts”, he replied.

“Are there any free clothes?” Norton immediately offered it and said it a little louder than was appropriate.

"Next to the church," Naib explained. "Once a month they hand out clothes brought there by others, and sometimes you can find something. You could use some help finding something."

“That would be useful", Norton confirmed.

Naib led them to the old skatepark, where they sat on the asphalt, leaning against the building with the restrooms that stood there, Naib took a cigarette out of the pocket of his oversized jacket.

“Do you smoke?” Norton asked, surprised.

“Sometimes” Naib handed him a parcel for him to help himself. “Would you like some?”

Norton thought for a moment. He'd never smoked, and he was actually curious about what cigarettes tasted like. After all, so many people smoke them, so they must have something to them. He'd never been able to afford such delicacies, so he'd never even tried them.

So he reached towards the pack held out to him and took out one cigarette.

"Russian," Naib said, lighting the lighter he'd just taken from his pocket. "So they don't taste very good and they're weak," he said, taking a drag on his cigarette.

Norton must have been looking at him for a moment too long, because he immediately started staring back at him and they stared at each other.

“What?” asked Naib and took another drag on his cigarette.

“Nothing, can you pass me a lighter?” Norton woke up as if from a dream.

Naib didn't hand him the lighter, he just lit it, so Norton put his cigarette to it, but it wouldn't light.

"Put it in your mouth and inhale," Naib ordered, and Norton did just that.

He put the cigarette in his mouth and leaned a little towards Naib, who finally lit a cigarette for him.

Norton immediately felt what he considered a disgusting taste in his mouth.

“Now take a deeper drag,” Naib ordered, demonstrating on his half-burnt cigarette.

Norton suddenly lost his appetite for the whole smoking thing, but he decided he'd give it a try, even though the taste lingered in his mouth, which he didn't think was possible since it was just smoke, so he should only be able to smell it, but everyone always talked about the flavors of cigarettes, so it must have been their thing.

He inhaled deeply and felt his mouth, lungs, nose, and maybe even stomach fill with smoke. He couldn't breathe, and he began coughing violently.

Naib laughed at that, and Norton thought of him in that moment the way he'd recently thought of Melly and Alice: mean. But Naib immediately began patting him on the back as Norton fought for life, for breath, like a baby just being born.

The smoke in his body was something he couldn't bear, bringing back bad memories. Now he truly thought he was about to meet his maker, and that was all they'd seen of him. He could even picture his funeral in his mind, everyone weeping over it—because they would, right? Who would weep over a Norton like that? I wonder if Naib would weep? If he killed him, he probably would.

"Try breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth," Naib instructed, still patting him on the back, but Norton doubted it was doing any good. "Oh, buddy, you're really not cut out for smoking," he said.

Norton calmed down after a while, but his face was red from the exertion, and tears were streaming down his cheeks from coughing.

"Fuck," he finally said, his voice hoarser than usual. "You wanted to kill me, man?" He looked at Naib with genuine reproach, but Naib just shrugged.

"I didn't know your lungs were such a pussy," he said and smoked the rest of his cigarette.

Norton and his lungs felt a little offended.

"That's disgusting, I don't know how you can smoke that and still enjoy it. I can't believe you're not doing it as a punishment," Norton said, looking at Naib's cigarette.

"You can get used to it," Naib said indifferently and started looking for something next to Norton.

“But why?” Norton was really curious.

Cigarettes were expensive, unhealthy, and stank from a mile away.

Naib found what he was looking for, a barely lit cigarette, which he gave to Norton, took it and put it in the box.

Norton looked at it in disbelief.

“They are expensive,” Naib explained.

“Then why are you smoking it?” Norton was actually pissed off because he really didn't understand.

Naib smiled very gently.

"Old habit? I guess," he said.

It all made no sense to Norton, so he said nothing more and began to stare at the clouds in the sky, leaning against the cold wall again.

“I used to skate here”- Naib started.

“Seriously?? Did you skateboard? Were you a skater, like in those American movies?”

Naib smiled again.

"I was just skating," Naib shrugged. "I don't know if that made me a skater."

“Are you still skating?”

“ I don't have time. Besides, I'm probably too old for this.”

Norton thought about it.

“How old are you supposed to be?”

“What do I look like?” Naib made a mischievous smile at Norton and narrowed his eyes.

“You look 18, but sometimes you sound like a 40-year-old with five kids,” Norton said and smiled too.

“You look like 40 and sound like 18”, Naib retorted, and Norton laughed.

“Okay, but how old are you?”

Norton really wanted to know how old Naib was now, because he was making such a big deal out of it, as if he really was some old man.

"Twenty-seven," he finally replied, scratching his nose.

Norton hadn't expected Naib to be so old. He looked significantly younger, and Norton would always ask for his ID if he were going to sell him alcohol.

"He's the prime of life," he said, however. "I'm twenty-three," he pointed at himself. "How long have you been in the states?"

Naib looked thoughtful for a moment, then looked at Norton, his face losing its entire smile and replacing that casual expression he usually wore. The corners of his mouth turned down.

"Five? I think five," he replied, looking into the distance, but Norton looked there too and there was nothing special there.

"Wow, that's been a long time," he admitted as he looked back at Naib. "I've been here for a year and a half. I lived in Illinois for almost a year, and then I moved here because my countrymen can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, you know?" Norton didn't know why he started talking. "But I had to make up for the trip, so I was stuck there."

Naib nodded in understanding.

"I paid everything before I arrived," he said, his tone of voice seeming strange to Norton. "I lived in New York for a while at first, and then I moved here."

Norton finally learned something about Naib. He rarely spoke about his past.

“So you've lived here for quite a bit, right?”

“Let's say.”

“Who have you known the longest?” Norton suddenly wanted to drag him out as much as possible, he was curious about Naib's life.

“Hmm” Naib fell into thought again. “I think I've known Martha and William, and Kurt too, for a long time. There was also that fucker, the so-called magician.”

“What was wrong with him? And who is he?”

Norton was vaguely familiar with the three mentioned above, but had never heard of this "so-called" magician.

"He pissed me off," Naib replied, laughing. "He was such a jerk. He thought I was some kind of terrorist, I guess, because I couldn't speak English very well and my accent sounded suspicious. Anyway, he doesn't live here anymore.”

“What a bummer”, Norton said.

Naib pondered.

"Maybe he had other reasons," he said. "But he was meddling and snooping around too much."

“What other reasons?” Norton became interested

Naib looked at him, and his gaze suddenly seemed piercing to Norton, a little frightening.

"Never mind," he finally said, looking away from Norton. "Would you like something to drink?"

He changed the subject, and Norton resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't learn anything for now, so he nodded.

Naib stood up and walked over to the vending machine on the adjacent wall. Norton followed obediently and stood staring at the drinks available for purchase.

Norton had to admit that he liked sweet drinks, and sipping Pepsi from Naib when he was at KFC became his routine and fueled his love.

“Will you take this one for me?“ he pointed to some lemon drink.

Naib bought them the same drinks, saying that he liked everything, so it made no difference and they sat down again, but this time they spread out on a bench.

"Life is a grave," Norton said solemnly after tearing himself away from his can, which was half gone.

Naib was sitting next to him with his hood up, probably because his ears were cold. He looked at Norton questioningly.

“Why?” he asked after some time.

Norton wanted to say a lot about why, because there were many reasons, but in the end he said what was currently stressing him out most about the situation he found himself in. A difficult situation.

“I don't know how long Melly will let me stay with her, and I still have my junk in the old apartment and I don't know whether I should take it to her or not” he explained, gesturing with his hands to give Naib a better picture of the situation.

"Is Melly your girlfriend?" he asked first, and Norton decided it didn't matter, so he just nodded. The problem was more serious, and Campbell wanted to know Naib's current opinion on the matter, so he looked expectant, or maybe a little expectant, because this day had given him a new plan of action.

“Then talk to her,” he finally replied and took a sip of his drink.

Norton sighed. He really needed to talk to her. He needed to talk, he needed to talk for now, but what about the bums?

“My things... “ he started, but Naib interrupted him.

“When do you have to take them?”

“I don't know, but probably as soon as possible. She didn't tell me when she'd come for the keys, so I still have them.”

Naib nodded at this, but Norton saw with his third eye that he was expecting Norton to say something else.

“Could I keep them with you for a while?” he said in one breath and looked towards Naib, and in his eyes there was a kneeling Jesus begging Naib for help.

“For how long?” Naib looked at him for maybe a split second, too short.

“U-until I get myself together” Norton started scratching his head and gave Naib another pleading look, and maybe it was a little more pleading, because Naib fixed his gaze on him.

He didn't say anything yet. Norton suddenly felt strangely tense. Maybe they weren't that close yet? But they probably were.

“Okay,” said Naib.

To Norton, Naib suddenly became like his mother and father rolled into one.

Chapter Text

Norton had been living with Melly for three days, and every day he felt her cold, judging gaze, which practically paralyzed him from behind. As if she were stabbing him with her eyes and injecting venom into his system.

Norton usually felt no remorse. In fact, Norton was a bit shameless and felt that people often judged him too harshly. They didn't understand his unfortunate situation, because everything was handed to them on golden platters, and he had to hold those platters. So, yes, he had it much worse than they did, so perhaps he even had the right to be a little selfish.

But today he felt stings of remorse, because Melly had been nagging him since morning. She didn't say anything, not a word, but the atmosphere in her hive was very tense.

Norton sat on the couch, as he did every day, staring at a picture on the wall of some kind of bug, INSECT. Melly always scolded him for saying "bugs." But Norton was a simple man, so he said bugs.

“Norton” Melly sat down in a chair at the table and looked at him, her tone cold, devoid of any emotion. Norton felt as if April were interspersed only with winter.

However, he decided not to let it be known that he was actually a little stressed and afraid of Melly at that moment.

“What's the matter?” he looked at her with the most indifferent look he could muster at that moment.

“You know what” Melly was also calm.

It was a contest of stoicism, and Norton really didn't want to lose, but his competition wasn't just anyone.

“I have no idea,” Norton shrugged, obviously indifferent.

"You have to leave, Norton," she said what everyone already knew, but no one wanted to admit. Norton didn't want to admit it.

“Already?” Norton tried to remain calm, but he really wasn't.

“You have time until tomorrow.”

Melly won and Norton could feel it, smell it, see it, taste it, everything.

"Fine," he replied, a bit resignedly. "I'll leave today since you don't want me anymore," he whined.

“That's for the best,” Melly stood up.

Norton felt a bit like a failure in life, but poverty didn't automatically make him a failure. In reality, it was all the fault of how society had so cunningly planned the entire scheme of action, the division of social roles. Norton tried to console himself with his philosophy, which he believed was doomed for a reason.

Melly left, and Norton continued to stare at the painting. He had to come up with a plan. A new plan, a better one, but his head suddenly felt empty, as if there was nothing at all in it.

Norton automatically got up from the couch and went outside. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening around him, but looking out at the street, he saw himself kneeling somewhere outside a store, begging kind souls for a few cents so he could eat a roll. And he'd even come to terms with it. At that moment, he even thought that these were his memories, and perhaps no one would ever be able to take them away from him.

He saw a familiar sign. He wanted to laugh, realizing he'd even gone to this one place without any prior knowledge. Always this one place... but maybe this was the solution. He started thinking, thinking properly, but he couldn't. He already kept his junk there. Or maybe this was just a phase? Perhaps Norton had subconsciously embarked on a plan that had formed in his mind as unconsciously as this entire walk.

Norton was a little scared by these thoughts, but not that much, because after all, the other one could at least take care of himself.

He entered the fast food restaurant through the glass doors. There was almost no one there either. Just the woman he already knew behind the counter and an office worker who was chowing down on chicken and looked at Norton, his eyes saying, "Get away from my chicken, you idiot," as if Norton were about to lunge and rip the meat from his throat. But even if he did, Norton, being a poor man by no choice, had the right to do so, because it was he who the world had punished, not the office worker.

Norton looked around, but he wasn't at his favorite spot, nor anywhere else in the establishment. He moved closer to the counter to look around again.

It was a good hour. Naib usually ate his late breakfast at this time, but today he seemed to be absent.

“Your friend is not here“ said the woman behind the cash register.

"I see," Norton grumbled. "Do you have any old fries?" Norton asked, because he was about to go crazy.

“Do you want to order stale fries?“ the woman raised an eyebrow and looked at him as if he were crazy.

"If you don't know what to do with them, I can take them. Money's tight, I'm practically homeless," Norton said, even feeling vaguely proud of himself for saying it. Let her know what a miserable fate Norton leads.

The woman continued to look at him, her expression suddenly turning from indignation to something a bit sympathetic.

"So young and already homeless," she said. "I'll bring you something in a moment, but don't think you can come here and prey on me like you prey on your friend."

The woman went somewhere in the back, and Norton found that luck smiled faintly on him today.

He got fries and a small chicken burger, so he left quite happy.

The satisfaction, however, did not last so long, because he ate it all at once and now he had to give in to his painful thoughts again.

"Naib's not at KFC today, so Naib's out. Anyway..." Norton pondered, "what else?" Naib was the perfect victim.

But Norton wanted to put the halfling out of his mind because he needed to focus, and his absence from KFC was unsettling him a bit.

Who could sleep him over? There weren't many options, since Norton didn't have that many friends. Eli? No, Eli was definitely out. Eli lived with his parents, and explaining to Mr. and Mrs. Clark why he was sleeping at their house was a hassle. If not him, then maybe... maybe?

Norton scratched his head. He couldn't think of anyone else. There was Kurt... ah, and HE. His lifeline, how could he forget his beloved William?

Norton suddenly felt such a strong brotherly love for William that he wanted to run and hug him, which was completely out of character for him. Norton had been going astray lately.

***
Norton managed to break into William's dorm. That is, William himself invited him here. So it wasn't a burglary.

It's true that he said something like "I'll hold out as long as I can, but if they catch you, forgive me, man," and he said it with such sadness, as if it was William's fault that they would catch him living illegally in the dormitory.

But Norton wasn't particularly happy with William's place. In the corridor and in old bathrooms Norton felt a stank of sweat, but not the kind Norton smelled of fasting, which was simply that, but rather sweat from physical exertion. The most dangerous kind of sweat, according to Norton. He constantly felt like he was in a men's locker room, which gave him a headache. That's why he spent most of his time in William's room, which smelled wonderfully of flowers, because William was very particular about the scent of his surroundings. Norton felt like he was in a meadow.

But William didn't live alone. Norton didn't realize it at first, but then he did. William and Ganji were roommates.

Ganji was really good, a cool guy, Norton thought. But Ganji and William were a combination that was too much for Campbell. They were just too much. And Norton didn't know Ganji, which was a big hindrance.

Norton just wanted to lie in William's bed, but the pair's morning exercises prevented him from doing so. They were loud, pleasantly loud, but too loud.

The most wonderful moments were when they were not in the room, but they did not last forever.

Besides, William and Ganji dragged poor Norton everywhere they could. So Norton had been to every party in the past week, and he was amazed how he'd been to more parties than he had in the past year. And how on earth did they all have the time and energy to get wasted every day, and then these cyborgs still went running? Fucked up.

Norton had been Ganji and William's companion through everything that week. Sometimes they even dragged him to classes. Norton tried to come up with increasingly more inventive excuses to just lie in bed and sleep, but somehow the two always managed to bypass Norton's security system, and he ended up at another stranger's party.

And since Norton had been to events where everything was free, he took advantage. Oh, Norton really did.

They were now in the living room of some rich kid, Norton guessed, because he felt a bit like he was in a museum or some hotel.

He was sitting on a couch with some people he didn't know, already downing another cup of beer. It was free, right?

“You're Norton, right?” Some guy was hugging the already well-drunk Norton as they sat on the couch, who just nodded.

He could already hear some sort of noise. Music mingled with the chatter of everyone. Norton wasn't even entirely sure anymore if they were talking, or if he had already acquired the ability to hear thoughts.

"I'm Mike," the boy continued, his arm around his shoulders as if they'd known each other for at least forty years. "William said you were a nice guy, I'm glad you came to see me." He smiled so childishly and naively that Norton even softened a bit, or maybe he softened because he was so drunk he suddenly felt like a parent to everyone he met, but he was also so tired that he could only smile and nod at Mikel's words.

"You're a good boy," Norton suddenly softened as he looked at the sweet, freckled face of the blond boy who was smiling all the time, constantly.

Norton had started smiling like this too, and now they were sitting there, drunk, smiling at each other like children, not even saying a word. But Norton felt such a connection with Mike that he began to understand him on a metaphysical level. But what was he beginning to understand? He didn't know that yet, but he understood, and he was as certain of it as he was of being born in Ireland.

“Thanks Norton, and how do you like it in the states?” he asked, laying on his shoulder, because he was probably more tipsy than Norton.

At least that's what he looked like. His face was round, but so red now, and his eyes were sparkling. Norton was truly moved when he looked at him; he was just too sweet.

"It's great," Norton replied, smiling sheepishly as he gazed at that beautiful face. "It's so great, it's such a crazy party, it's so great right now," Norton began to ramble.

"I'm glad you like it," Mike smiled broadly again. "Do you want it?" he asked, showing him a piece of tape. Norton thought it was a tape but he couldn't see it very well.

“What's this?” he asked and wanted to reach for the tape, but Mike raised the hand he was holding it in and Norton suddenly felt unable to reach it.

"That's it, buddy," Mike paused solemnly, his expression content, but Norton understood everything, because it was a great moment, perhaps even a breakthrough. "This is heaven," he finished, satisfied, and Norton suddenly became equally content.

Everything was so great.

“Stick out your tongue” Mike ordered and stuck out his tongue and pointed at it with his finger.

So Norton did as he was told. He was about to experience something incredible, and he knew it. His third eye suddenly whispered in his ear that it was going to be incredible.

Mike peeled off a piece of tape and stuck it to Norton's tongue. It was so incredible that Norton felt like he was about to cry.

Then Mike did the same and they both retracted their tongues, pressing the contents to the roof of their mouths.

Norton couldn't register if he was saying anything else or if Mike was saying anything because suddenly the whole world started spinning around so funny.

He looked at the freckled face of that cupid from the church, or maybe it was more like a messenger of God now, because oh fuck, Norton was starting to feel it. He didn't know what yet, but it was something fantastic, so very fantastic.

Real stars appeared in Mike's eyes and suddenly they were looking at each other and grinning like idiots.

The sounds around him faded, and Norton heard and felt the water rushing through his head. It was so pleasantly cool. Norton felt as if his skull were cliffs being washed by the waves.

“What is this?” he asked and laughed at Mike, who had been laughing for a long time.

"I told you it was heaven," he spread his arms and raised them up, then got up from Norton and started walking in some other direction.

Norton, however, did not waste a moment and immediately stood up himself and marched bravely after the blond with the freckled face.

Mike went to the garden, where, holy shit, Norton could finally feel truly refreshed. He saw the Boreas winds caressing him, refreshing his skin, penetrating every pore. He touched his face and said.

“It's so soft” and he laughed.

Mike turned around, his eyes sparkling with stars again. He approached Norton and touched his cheek too.

"Like a baby's bottom!" he said in surprise, and began to feel his face and even touched his scar, but Norton suddenly didn't mind. He had to share this news.

"And yours?" Norton immediately brought his hands to the blonde's cheeks. "Silk!" he shouted, and his face showed such surprise, as if the Messiah had appeared before him. But perhaps that was the case; Norton didn't rule it out.

Then they stood there for a while, still laughing at each other, when someone interrupted their ritual.

“-Mike, Margie is looking for you” it was some red-haired boy who looked like he had just been crying in a corner somewhere, and Norton suddenly felt so sorry for him that he threw himself into his arms.

"Everything will be fine," he said and hugged him like a father hugging his daughter when she had a bad dream.

Mike started laughing like a maniac, so loudly, but also so sincerely and innocently, that Norton became even more moved. He kissed the red-haired boy on the forehead.

He stood frozen for a moment, then tried to free himself from Norton's grip.

"This is Norton," Mike introduced him. "Where's Margie?"

“Where's Margie exactly?” Norton asked too, but he didn't know any Margie.

The red-haired boy became a little embarrassed and slowly pulled away from Norton's grip, which was no longer so strong.

“In the dining room” he said and looked somehow serious and sad according to Norton.

But overall, he looked like the personification of sadness. Norton wanted to give him all the good in the world at once and pat him on the head.

"Norton, I'll be right back." Mike put his hand on his shoulder and looked at him, nodding. "Joker will take care of you."

Then he left, and Norton stood there speechless for a moment. Who the fuck is the Joker? And he started walking in a completely different direction.

The red-haired boy disappeared somewhere in the crowd of people that suddenly began to press towards them, or maybe it just seemed that way to Norton.

Finally, he sat down off to the side, under some box-shaped bushes, and began grinning into his hands. He looked a little lost, but still happy.

Suddenly he felt someone's presence next to him and looked at the person sitting next to him.

"Naib? Naib from KFC?" he suddenly looked so surprised. What was Naib from KFC doing here?

Naib just smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

“Oh, my dear, I see they filled you with drugs.”

His smile was so amusing to Norton at that moment, and those scars next to his mouth. Norton reached out to touch them, but Naib caught him just as he was about to reach them.

“Restrain yourself, Campbell.”

But Norton just smiled wider and clasped their hands together.

“What are you doing here, Naib with KFC?‘ he asked, still smiling stupidly.

Naib smiled at Norton too, perhaps a little sympathetically. But that was okay. If he wanted to take care of him like he always did, Norton could have granted him that privilege.

"Partying?" he asked, and Norton frowned.

It was a mystery. Suddenly it was a mystery.

“Yes!” he suddenly shouted, as if he had discovered America.

Naib snorted at this.

“Oh my God, drugged people, this is a whole other dimension of fucked upness”, he said.

Norton should probably have felt a little offended, because it seemed like an insult, but Norton suddenly couldn't be bothered. He just smiled. He didn't quite understand.

"What are you—" he began, leaning back on the grass where he had just fallen. "Teetotaler?"

Naib rolled his eyes and also lay down on the grass next to Norton.

"Listen," Norton suddenly wanted to say something substantive, so he began with the most substantive words he could find in the fragments of his mind. "You're only young once, you have to try everything," and he nodded, having gained his uncle's wisdom on New Year's Eve at that moment.

“-I don't even have the energy to listen to what the fuck you're talking about, Campbell” Naib suddenly started smoking a cigarette and Norton jumped at him.

“Smoking kills” he was now above Naib, who was looking at him with a surprised expression as Norton took the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it somewhere far away.

“I'll kill you, you fucker” said Naib and in three seconds he threw Norton off him, who was lying on the ground again and was unable to lift his heavy head.

“Cigarettes will do it first” Norton stretched his hands up as if he wanted to grab onto something.

He glanced to the side, wanting to make sure the Subedar was still there. But he was, and he even lay down on the grass again. And he wasn't smoking, so Norton grinned.

“Why are you smiling, you idiot?” Naib looked at him.

"You have to live." Norton suddenly wanted to give a motivational speech for Naib, but his mind went blank. He just laughed.

Naib continued to look at him. Norton had no idea if it was judgmental or otherwise. So he coded it as mysterious. Yes, Naib looked at him mysteriously.

“Why are you looking at me so mysteriously?“ He smiled broadly.

"I wonder," the Subedar began, "how you'll manage to get back to wherever you live after you've done this. I don't even know if you'd be able to walk in that condition."

"Everything's under control." Norton gestured like some rapper he'd recently seen on TV. "American Louu ...

"Yeah, yeah." Naib looked at him, probably contemptuously, but maybe not. "Are you still living with William?" he asked.

"Of course. William is my messiah, my savior," Norton tried to look serious, but failed miserably.

“Yhym” Naib seemed lost in thought. "Ganji and William were so drunk you're probably even more sober next to them." He looked at Norton.

“And why didn't you get drunk?” Norton said it with some reproach.

"I have work," Naib replied, and now Norton looked at him.

He looked like a ghost of Christmas past. With bags under his eyes and a pale face. Norton wondered how this man still had the energy to go to parties. Was he just as much of a cyborg as the rest, or what?

“Then go to sleep,” Norton replied.

"I'm going to go soon," he said, still staring at Norton with those blue eyes. "But seeing how bad your condition was, I had to check on you."

“Why?” Norton really wanted to know.

“Because you're acting like an idiot, and William and Ganji can't handle you, so I guess I'm doomed” he started to get up on his hands.

"I don't need a babysitter," Norton grumbled.

"And you'll get it anyway. Pack your bags." Naib was already standing over Norton, holding out his hand so Norton could lean on it.

So Norton grabbed him and stood up. He felt a little dizzy, so he grabbed the shorter man.

"I'll put you up for the night," Naib said, and started leading him somewhere. "Let me lose my mind," he muttered to himself, and suddenly they found themselves on the street.

Everything fell silent, and Norton felt as if his ears were thanking him at that moment for being free from the suffering of the noise inside.

Naib started walking, so Norton followed him, but then he felt so sick that he stopped and vomited into the bushes.

“Are you okay, you idiot?’ he heard Naib's voice, patting him on the back as if he were a choking child.

“Yhym” he replied, but immediately threw up in his throat again.

And then they went to Naib's apartment.

It was an exceptionally small, cramped apartment. It was located in the basement, so the windows were high and let in little air. But the room wasn't stuffy. Norton found it pleasant. It smelled of a pleasant, natural scent, a bit like a forest, and was relatively tidy. Similar to Melly’s flat. Both were cozy and homey. Melly had a lot of stuff at home, while Naib had a small house.

Norton smiled, still feeling a little tipsy, but less so. Suddenly, however, his legs felt like jelly, so he collapsed onto the couch in the middle of the small living room.

“Take off your boots” he heard the irritated voice of the Subedar.

So Norton took off his shoes and threw them somewhere toward the door. Naib started to say something, but Norton suddenly developed a terrible headache, so he didn't even listen.

“Here's some water”, he registered, as Naib placed a glass of water on the table next to him.

“Thanks.”

Norton was suddenly so thirsty that he immediately reached for it and drank it in one gulp. He immediately felt so good. Water was it, after all. The elixir of life.

When he felt better, he looked around the apartment again and then found Naib, who had started looking through some papers that he had attached with a magnet to the refrigerator.

It had many charming magnets. Norton wanted to get up and look at them, but he suddenly couldn't. So he went back to contemplating the apartment.

Naib had lots of strange wooden figurines in the shapes of various animals, some wolves and eagles. He also had a few posters of eagles and some war movies on the walls. And these strange faces hung on rings that looked like some strange totem poles.

“What is this?” Norton asked and pointed at the wooden faces.

Naib didn't seem to register what Norton was saying for a moment, because he looked at him like he was an idiot. But Norton was patient, so he waited until the churches in his head started ringing.

He looked at the place Norton was pointing to.

“I don't know, some faces,” he shrugged.

"Terrifying," Norton said, "you're asleep and they're staring at you."

Naib shrugged at this and disappeared somewhere into another room, which was entered through the curtain in the door from the living room-kitchen.

A blanket? I think it was a blanket, it had cool patterns, they looked so "oriental."

Then the shorter one appeared again, holding a pillow and a duvet in his hands, with also very interesting patterned pillowcases, which didn't match at all, but Norton was a bit touched by the pillows, probably still a bit under the influence of all this.

Naib walked over to the couch and threw it all at Norton and went into the kitchen.

"I'm going to work tomorrow morning," he said from the kitchen, rummaging through drawers. "Only for a few hours, so you'll probably be getting up soon." He looked at Norton. "Don't make a mess. When I get back, you can go. I already texted William that I'll put you to bed, but he'll probably read it well into the afternoon tomorrow, so no big deal."

"Thanks," Norton said to all this.

He was actually a little grateful to Naib that for some reason he had decided to take care of him like a stray cat.

"There's almost nothing in the fridge," Naib continued, opening the fridge. "So if you scrape something out of it, that's great for you, but I won't lie there is shit."

“The cottage isn't rich, but it's cool” Norton suddenly blurted out, but he didn't know why.

"It's probably just another day for you, so I'm not worried," Naib replied simply, and left the kitchen. "I'm going to wash up and sleep. You better just go to sleep. You can wash up in the dormitory in the morning, because the water here sometimes takes up to two hours to heat up, so it's only cold. Besides, you have to use home remedies to turn on the shower."

Norton nodded, sprawling on the small couch and covering himself with the sheets. It was incredibly uncomfortable, but he was suddenly so tired that it didn't matter.

“And your thrifts are in my closet” this woke Norton up a bit.

“Yes, they are at your place” Norton suddenly remembered that he actually kept a few things at Naib's.

He only took his most important collection of stones and other odds and ends that he still had from Ireland.

“Get some sleep Campbell, because tomorrow you'll probably have the autumn of the Middle Ages” he smiled a bit maliciously and probably went to the bathroom.

Norton said, "Fine”, get some sleep and then he'll face the hangover that awaits him tomorrow. Let him lose it, whatever.

Chapter Text

Norton struggled to open his heavy eyelids. He felt as if his lashes were clinging to the weights used by divers, which he'd seen in one of the recent films he'd seen at Melly's.

He saw a light and for a moment he felt like he was dead and the heavenly Lord was challenging him, but then he discovered rays in his hand and he probably didn't die after all, because he was able to move it, and the dead are probably not able to perform such actions.

Suddenly, he felt a searing pain. He wasn't quite sure where, or maybe everywhere? For the first few minutes, he had no idea.

He got up and realized that it was his head that hurt, and he immediately grabbed it, although touching it didn't help at all, especially since his hands were warm from the sun.

He looked around and wanted to laugh at his bad luck. One of the tiny windows let the sunlight fall directly on his face, and the rest of the room was pleasantly shaded.

Norton felt a little chosen by God, but more like chosen to endure tremendous suffering in this fucking world.

But wait, where was he? Norton asked himself this question as his eyes wandered around the strange, unfamiliar apartment.

I don't remember much, and the headache wasn't helping him think clearly.

He swung his legs off the couch and touched the cold floor, so pleasant, so wonderful.

He also noticed that he'd slept in yesterday's clothes, the ones he'd gone to the party in! Yes, Norton had been to that blond banana's party last night. Norton remembered his face; it was quite distinctive, but then it went blank. Zero, null.

Norton rubbed his forehead, already nervous that he suddenly had no idea.

Despite his terrible headache, he decided to get up and fill himself with tap water, as his mouth seemed to be completely raw. He imagined it looked like the hottest desert he'd seen in Melly's encyclopedia.

The kitchen was right next to the couch, in fact, Norton only took two steps. "Convenient," he thought.

He took it out of the cupboard, and he got it right the first time, a mug with a cat from Alice in Wonderland on it, because it was really convincing, but the print was visibly faded. He poured some water into it and drank it in one gulp, then poured another glass and began looking around again. He wanted to find some clues that would help him figure out where he was.

A small refrigerator with various magnets and notes attached to it immediately caught his eye. He walked over and looked at what was written on it.

"Wednesday—parcels, tire shop," he read, and pondered. What was that strange code? Then another note, "Saturday—shop near the university, night dishwasher." Suddenly, a light bulb went on for Norton. Was this some kind of schedule? The next notes again listed shops, cleaning jobs, dishwashers, and who knows what else, because a lot of it was also written in a language Norton didn't understand.

“But it makes no sense”, he said to himself and drank more water.

He went to investigate the apartment further. There were many posters on the walls, one in particular caught his eye. A poster depicting a very strange-looking eagle-man dressed in blue, with the words "Eagles Dance" written at the bottom. Norton was a bit embarrassed by the title. It was probably some movie poster. A strange man lives here, he thought.

There were also these strange wooden faces, strange figurines with animal motifs. It was all a bit strange, but it was cozy here. Even with all the animals and, he guess, human faces staring back at Norton.

He sat down on the couch again. There was a pillow and a duvet. Someone had given him a duvet and a pillow during the night. Norton was even more worried that he didn't know who he was staying with.

He decided to also enter the room behind the curtain. He looked there.

The room was dark and very small. The bed was torn, but other than that, it was relatively clean.

Norton walked over to the small desk that sat next to the bed, so to use it he had to wedge his legs into the small space between the desk and the bed. Norton struggled, but eventually managed. He sat down at the desk.

There was nothing special there. A night lamp and some books. Norton opened one of them. Again, that language he didn't understand. So he threw the book aside.

He reached into the drawer, leaning back to try and open it. There were papers and English dictionaries. Norton thought for a moment, and suddenly thought he was very close to solving his puzzle when he heard:

“Campbell, what the fuck are you doing?”

He immediately turned around and looked at the man standing in the doorway, who was looking at him with irritation in his eyes.

All the lights in Norton's mind went on and he suddenly remembered something that had happened yesterday and where he was now and who this man, Naib, was.

“Nothing” he replied and closed the cabinet.

Naib folded his arms across his chest and stood there, still a little angry. Norton didn't understand. Maybe it wasn't right to go through someone else's things, but what could Norton do with anything that belonged to Naib? So there was no point in getting angry.

Naib sighed so loudly that Norton even felt a little embarrassed. He dug his legs out from under the desk and got out of bed.

“Sorry” he said.

“Okay, but don't go digging through other people's junk”, Naib replied.

Norton nodded at this and they stood there looking at each other.

“So... “ Naib began, but Norton interrupted him, because he thought for a moment what he wanted to say and had to say it right away.

“What happened yesterday?” he asked.

Naib smiled and Norton smiled back, but he didn't know what he was smiling at yet.

“You got drunk” replied Naib ‘and high” he added and closed his eyes, still standing with his arms folded, leaning against the door frame.

Norton was completely baffled. He'd certainly gotten wasted, free alcohol... but who gave him free drugs? It was an expensive business.

“Then I took you in because your roommates did the same and I decided to show you the lord's mercy” said Naib and smiled maliciously, I guess, but Norton didn't even take it that maliciously.

"Thanks," Norton said simply.

Naib nodded at this and walked through the curtain into the living room/kitchen.

“Have you eaten?” he called to Norton.

Norton hadn't eaten, hadn't even thought about it. He wasn't really hungry. He was still nauseous from yesterday's excesses at the party.

“No”, he replied and followed Naib, who was already rummaging through the refrigerator.

He looked angry as he pulled in some canned food boxes that were empty. Then he slammed the fridge shut.

"No shit. Let's go to KFC," he said, and without even looking at Norton, he headed for the exit.

Norton was a little confused by this, but Naib's voice snapped him out of it.

“Are you coming, Campbell?”

And Campbell went.

***

They were sitting on the field now, watching Ganji and William run around aimlessly. Norton didn't even think they had any reasons to run. After all, they were already muscled, so what difference did it make? In fact, maybe Norton was a little envious of them, because he didn't have the energy to run at all, and his wasted lungs made him winded very quickly, so the whole idea of ​​sports was beyond him.

Naib was sitting next to him, smoking those stinking Russian cigarettes, of course. It irritated Norton more than anything else, but what could he do? He couldn't shoo Naib away to another seat. He needed Naib. He really needed him right now.

“You know” began Norton, who slowly decided to put into action his long-formed plan “William said they would check the dormitory“ William didn't say anything about it.

Naib cleared his throat, clearly engrossed in a game of snooker on his Nokia, which Norton thought he was showing off a bit too much.

“I don't know what I'll do” he approached it this way.

Norton might seem a bit unintelligent at first glance, but Norton knew how to talk to people to get what he wanted. All it took was framing Naib for all this, and he'd propose what Norton had been carefully planning for so long.

Naib looked at him now, and his expression seemed to express something like surprise, but Norton wasn't sure, but everything seemed to be going in the right direction, so he smiled to himself.

“Don't you have anywhere to go?” Naib asked as if on cue.

Naib was an easy man. At least for Norton, which made him feel a bit special.

"I don't know what I'll do." Norton mastered an element of fear and uncertainty in his voice that seemed perfectly suited to the situation at the moment. Just add a little drama.

Naib didn't say anything, though, just looked at Norton expectantly. This surprised Campbell a bit, because the plan he had in mind now involved Naib asking if he wanted to spend a few nights with him. But he didn't ask. Norton felt uneasy again.

"Can I stay with you for a night, maybe two? Please," the words tumbled out of his mouth, as if his brain had decided on its own to take care of the matter of ensuring Norton's survival.

“One”, replied Naib after a moment of silence and went back to playing on his Nokia.

“You're saving my life, man” Norton breathed a sigh of relief, he finally could.

Naib may have said "one," but for Norton, even that one night would be enough. Tomorrow would be another day, a fresh mind, and he would once again be figuring out what to do with his being.

But will this be his life now? Every day will be spent searching for a new place and begging more and more people in the neighborhood? And then Norton will get bored with them all, and what will he do next? When there's no one with a good heart left to understand his situation and help him?

Norton pondered, leaning back in the plastic seat and looking up at the sky. The sun was already setting, so it was red, somehow melancholic. The black-haired man suddenly felt so unreal, as if he were starring in a movie or a book. He felt inspired at that moment. The beautiful sky, the light breeze, and that eternal ache of existence.

“Hey guys!” He was pulled out of his thoughts about his life and its meaning by the voice of William, who was now running towards them.

Naib raised his eyes to him, and then Norton did the same automatically, and when the sweating William was already standing before them, he finally announced the great news he had come running to them with.

"Ganji and I will be heading to the dorm," he said and looked at Norton, who technically still lived with him.

Then Ganji came running and tapped William on the shoulder, then plopped down in the seat next to Naib and pulled out a bottle of water, which he drank in one gulp. Campbell was a little impressed by this trick, but he couldn't lie.

"I'm staying with Naib tonight," Norton finally said, and immediately looked at Subedar to make sure he was really staying with him tonight.

William also looked at Naib a little worried.

"Yeah, Campbell's staying with me for now," Naib replied simply, stomping on his cigarette butt with his boot. "He'll cause you more problems, and he probably already has." Naib looked at Norton searchingly.

"Exactly." The Norton started up immediately. "Naib's going to put me through a few nights, you know, until I get myself together. You're risking too much," he nodded.

Naib smiled very faintly, but it did not escape Norton's notice.

"Okay then...?" Ganji started to say something. "So are you going to get our stuff now?"

“He'll take it tomorrow, I have to go to work now”, said Naib in a lazy voice and stood up, stretching.

Norton could really tell he liked Naib at that moment, who was yawning and looked kind of like Mr. Savior at that moment I guess.

Chapter Text

Naib had no idea why he'd agreed to all this. In fact, it might have been the constant tiredness he'd been feeling lately. He could never get enough sleep, he was always feeling exhausted, and he wasn't even enjoying it any more, feeling like a weakling. Naib didn't like knowing he was an easy target for... anyone who really wanted to beat his ass. There were certainly plenty of people like that.

So now here was Norton in his cramped, small, musty apartment, sitting pointlessly on the couch, which wasn't very big, so he looked a bit of a caricature there with his height, but that was going to be his bed for... Exactly.

Subedar wasn't stupid, at least not stupid enough to not understand that Norton would try to devour him to the bone. Nor could he say he wouldn't do the same in Campbell's shoes.

He felt strangely sorry for him, because he was just so... Naib didn't know how to describe him, other than pathetic, irritating, weird. But there was something else there, too.

"You sleep here," he said and pointed to the couch.

Norton nodded.

And then Naib went to his job. One of many he now held. He still couldn't find anything permanent, and that left him feeling a bit stressed all the time.

Many of his friends, Martha and Eli... when he was still talking to Eli, they told him he was overworking himself. And yes, Naib worked like a horse, perhaps like some prisoner in Siberia, but it was necessary to guarantee her a good life.

His mother, who stayed in Nepal, whom Naib left behind in Nepal, was, to put it bluntly, the reason Naib had decided to work so hard. So he lived like a hermit, and of course, he didn't mind that kind of life. Renting that cheap apartment, with a malfunctioning shower, cockroaches, mold on the walls, and no heating in the winter, which was actually located in the basement. Sometimes drunk people even pissed on his windows, but it was all okay because it was for her.

Naib didn't speak to his mother often. To make calls abroad, he had to go to the post office, where, for a certain sum, he could speak with his mother for a few minutes. But that was the way it was, and Subedar had to accept it. This was his chosen fate. He wasn't a good son, but he was her only son.

He spent his work day thinking about his mother. It was a dishwasher, so he didn't have to use any of his brainpower. He simply mechanically scrubbed all those plates and cutlery (those were the worst).

And then he returned home.

It was three in the morning, so Naib, considering he had a guest, left the light off and went straight to the bedroom, where he simply took off his sweatshirt, tossed it in a corner near the closet, and without even changing into his pajamas, collapsed on the bed. Tired beyond human limits.

But instead of being met with his slightly cool, pleasant, soft, wonderful blanket, he was met with something hard, groaning beneath him, some old man dying of chickenpox.

“What the fuck,” Naib cursed and tried to push himself up on his hands, but the groaning creature began to groan even more.

Then suddenly Naib finally connected his metaphysical wires in his brain, and surprise, irritation, then surprise again, then irritation, with a touch of anger, shot through him.

“Campbell you fucking” Naib finally got out of bed and turned on the light.

He stood there, a little pissed, watching Norton fucking Campbell try to free himself from the blanket he'd gotten himself tangled in. Who the fuck was this man? Naib didn't understand how anyone could be as clumsy as this idiot.

Norton rubbed his eyes like some sleeping beauty whore, which irritated Naib even more.

"Get out of this bed right now," he said, trying to say it as calmly as possible. He even closed his eyes to avoid being annoyed by the sight of Campbell in his fucking bed. Everything suddenly felt "fucking."

"I can't sleep on this couch," Norton blurted out as if nothing had happened. As if he had any right to be picky about his couch.

“Then sleep on the floor, you won't sleep in my bed” Naib started to tear him off the mattress, but Norton was holding on to the frame, and Naib was really tired.

"It's big," Norton said. "You'll fit in it."

He will fit. He, Naib, the owner of this fucking bed, this apartment, is the one who has to fit. Naib grabbed his head, which was starting to hurt.

"You're annoying," he said, wanting to add something, but Norton moved over and patted a spot on the mattress as if it were the most normal thing.

“Stop whining, Naib, just go to sleep” he said and turned his back, because in his opinion it was all over, the whole discussion.

Naib stood there for a moment, speechless, dumbfounded. What was that about Norton Campbell? Then he lay down and went to sleep, and he didn't even have any nightmares that night, only dreams about his job... which, to be honest, could be considered a nightmare, but for Naib, such nightmares were a piece of cake compared to his everyday life. In fact, the dreams of him washing dishes for the next few hours were a true fairy tale.

***

If Naib's life had been a nightmare before, it had become a nightmare to the second degree lately. At least Naib often described his life as a fucking Sisyphean, unfunny joke. Although he couldn't hide from himself that the unknown Norton presented him with was somehow refreshing. He still had his routine, but it was supplemented by Campbell's existence, which was already a strange movie in itself.

Naib, of course, spent most of his life at work, so perhaps Norton wasn't all that much in his life, but even if they didn't spend that much time together, Naib could definitely tell that everything revolved around Campbell now.

When he came home from work, he always found Norton sprawled on the "uncomfortable" couch, reading some book he'd brought from his previous apartment or borrowed from Kurt. Kurt was always thrilled when Campbell texted from Naib's phone, wanting to borrow some more of his senseless adventure stories.

At least Norton had some adventures in those books, thought Naib, who always watched Norton smile as he read, then tell him another similar story, but in some other part of the world. It was even comforting.

Naib wasn't born yesterday and had been through a lot. Sometimes he even felt like an old man, because he'd soon be thirty, that terrifying thing. Subedar, so he could immediately conclude that Norton wasn't at his best, that he was behaving strangely. Stranger than before, but this strangeness had already gone in a different direction.

Before, Norton had just been a bit grumpy and complaining. Angry at the world and its people. Naib sometimes wondered why Norton had even started talking to him, because Campbell's dislike of society was palpable from miles away, and Naib seemed to be a part of it.

But when they moved in together, Norton didn't seem so antisocial to Naib. At least, he wasn't like that towards Naib. It was strange, that was what was strange. Norton treated him as if they'd known each other for a long time, yet he knew practically nothing about him. Naib couldn't deny that it wasn't interesting in a way, but he hadn't expected there to be a greater reason for it. They were buddies, that was for sure, but... friends? Were they friends? Naib wasn't sure if he could call him that.

Norton was definitely a bug in his house, too. He hadn't even considered taking a job. Naib had stopped talking about it either. In fact, he'd even found himself indifferent to whether Norton had a job or not. It was nice to come home to someone besides his refrigerator, to whom he'd been chatting passionately before Norton barged in, telling it everything that was going on at work (which wasn't much).

Now he could sometimes open his mouth to Norton, though usually Norton would grumble at him about whatever came to mind. Campbell thought and spoke on the spot.

Now they were sitting at the table and Naib was devouring the KFC he had brought home with him, because eating alone wasn't that fun, especially since Norton probably hadn't eaten dinner either.

Today, Naib's parcel delivery night was canceled. It was a bit scary, because he'd already calculated how much he'd earn at the end of the month, how much he could send to his mother, and how much he could spend on himself and... well, he wasn't living alone anymore, and Norton wasn't working.

“Do you have anything in mind yet?” Naib asked casually, but in reality it was out of necessity.

Norton, who was biting into a chicken wing, looked at him questioningly. Naib smiled mentally, because Norton really looked like a fool now. His facial expression was interesting.

"A job, or do you have one in mind?" Naib decided to repeat the question, making it a little more specific, because clearly Norton's mind wasn't working at its peak at the moment. Or maybe it was the fact that Norton generally sometimes had trouble understanding what someone was saying to him.

Norton swallowed the meat and looked down at Naib, pretending to wipe himself with a pot towel, which he also used as a tissue, a snot wipe, and Naib preferred not to ask what else.

"I'm looking," Norton replied, but Naib knew he wasn't looking.

Norton would occasionally browse the newspapers for various job offers, but there was always something wrong with the job. It was too far, he had no experience, he wouldn't work for next to nothing. This had irritated Naib a bit, especially at first, but now? They'd been living like this for almost a month, and it had passed so quickly that Naib could practically feel the wrinkles forming on his face.

Naib looked at Norton for a moment, but seeing that he had nothing more to add, he began eating his meal.

***

Naib had been having a nervous breakdown lately because of his new roommate, a parasite. He was becoming increasingly aware that Campbell was nothing more than a fucking mistletoe in his house.

Subedar, when he returned from work, tired, he still had to contend with Norton. He had settled in quite nicely.

On the very first night, he forced himself into his bed, and not in the way you might think. But more in a down-to-earth, simple sense. Perhaps it was a bit disappointing, which also annoyed Naib. Why should it be?

Then came the next surprises Norton had in store: not washing dishes, throwing clothes everywhere, and worst of all, something that made Naib want to tear out all his hair: leaving food scraps behind.

Naib wasn't even concerned about the filth and smell it created, but rather the dishonor it brought to the food itself. It was unforgivable, and it earned him a few punches in the face, but did Norton care? Not at all, but eventually he started putting the leftovers away in the fridge. It was quite an achievement, Naib told himself.

Norton also started using Naib's T-shirts and sweatshirts, which Subedar called his "good" ones, for sleeping. It was kind of annoying, especially since he did it because he didn't feel like running the washing machine. But Naib stopped asking, stopped getting upset, and just accepted it.

"We live in a Naib commune," Norton once said solemnly.

Naib was tempted to tell him then that since it was all a commune, Norton should be doing as much as Naib, or at least the bare minimum. But he refrained.

However, there was something that floored Naib and forced him to reconsider the entire concept of Norton's existence.

One day, when Naib got home from work, he was even early. He walked into the house, completely in a good mood. He even wanted to take Norton somewhere, maybe to KFC or maybe the park; he hadn't decided yet. But it turned out he wouldn't have the chance to decide.

Norton was lying on his couch. Wearing his T-shirt, his favorite, only for occasions like a friend's wedding, a T-shirt with a really cool print. That was the beginning of this whole iceberg, just the beginning.

Naib hadn't yet seen what lay beneath the metaphysical ocean on which this floe drifted. But he would soon find out.

Then Norton stood up, tried to wave at Naib, maybe even waved, but Naib couldn't seem to register it anymore. He looked down at Norton and froze. A lot went through his mind then. At first, a slight feeling of disgust washed over him, then embarrassment, then something else Naib was afraid to name, and then anger, mixed with it all.

Norton stood there. In his cool T-shirt and his... obviously too small underwear, which fit Norton like plastic wrap.

Naib couldn't say anything for a moment. Zero.

Norton stood there, staring at Naib, seemingly uncomprehending, and then Subedar shifted his gaze from Norton's lower half, which he'd been staring at for perhaps too long, to that idiot's fucked-up face. His eyes were filled with fury.

“Campbell, what the fuck are you doing” he said it and he didn't even know that his voice could be so icy.

But did that even affect Norton? Of course not. He just stood there and stared stupidly. Then he looked with that innocent look of his at those damned underwear that Naib had been staring at for a little too long earlier.

"Oh," he said indifferently. "Mine are in the wash." He shrugged.

Naib clutched his temple. What was he supposed to do? It was so embarrassing and so infuriating. It was too much, it was too much.

"Listen," he said after a moment, his eyes closed. "We live in a commune, but not that communal."

"A commune is a commune," Norton said proudly. "You can use mine too," he added, and Naib couldn't believe it.

He started walking towards Norton, already rolling up his sleeves to maybe break his limbs, or maybe just his nose, but he stopped a few inches from him and looked down again and regretted it.

"Put some pants on," he muttered. "At least put some fucking pants on."

And so the story ended and the commune remained intact.

However, a serious conversation ensued between host and parasite, where Naib, citing Norton's favorite vision of communism, talked some sense into him, and Norton began cleaning up after himself. At first, Naib had to constantly remind him to do something, and Norton often got irritated, but well, he was trained, and it became part of his routine.

Chapter Text

Norton's day usually began at eleven o'clock or later. He rarely got up earlier. In fact, there were days when he didn't get up at all. Today, however, Campbell couldn't follow the routine he'd practiced since moving in with Naib. How long has it been? Almost a month, maybe more? Norton never wondered, because what did it matter anyway? For now, Naib let him live here, so the dark-haired man was taking advantage of the privilege. Naib had truly been a saving grace in his difficult life.

Dawn was just breaking, that is, it was around nine o'clock when a sleepy Norton heard the repulsive sound of a bell, which must have been a bit off, because it sounded like something Norton might do if he heard it at night. Campbell generally didn't like the night.

He walked to the door, took his time, stretched, put on his Naib slippers, and even put on the kettle for coffee. Whoever it was, of course, wouldn't be expecting Norton's coffee, so he didn't pour much water into the kettle.

Finally he opened the door and looked at the boy in front of him.

“Eli?” he thought and asked aloud.

Standing before him was a painted Eli Clark. The same Eli he'd last met at KFC with Naib, where Naib had told him to go fuck himself.

“Norton?” Eli was just as surprised as Campbell, who was now scratching his head because what was Clark doing here?

What exactly is Norton supposed to do now? Since Eli is apparently Naib's enemy now, should he let him into his house?

Norton, however, didn't hesitate for long and came to his usual conclusion: "I don't care" So he let Eli in, who, Norton now noticed, had an owl on his shoulder. This man was definitely an individual.

“Where's Naib?” Eli asked immediately and sat down on the couch as if nothing had happened.

"At work." Norton sat down next to Eli. "Can I pet ithim?" he asked, interested in the owl on his shoulder.

Eli smiled, as only he could. It was the smile of a father in heaven, that's how Norton described it. That's how he'd be welcomed in heaven, where he'd definitely end up, considering the suffering he endured on earth. Or at least, that's what Norton wanted to think.

“She may peck, but if you're not afraid, try” and Norton tried and the owl actually pecked him painfully.

“Do you live with Naib?” Eli asked after a moment, when Norton already had his bleeding finger in his mouth.

“Yeah”, he finally replied.

Eli seemed lost in thought, Norton wasn't entirely sure, Clark's facial expression was always hard to read, even for someone like Norton.

"Why are you looking for him?" Norton finally said what he'd wanted to say for a long time. Because, honestly, why did he come here? Naib told him emphatically that they had nothing to talk about.

“I wanted to talk to him” Eli started scratching his neck.

Norton leaned back on the sofa and put his feet up on the tiny coffee table in front of it, which held a disused ashtray. Norton complained every day about the stench Naib's pipes made, so the Subedar finally took the whole thing outside. Naib had been smoking an unusually large amount lately.

"What was that all about?" Norton handed Eli a glass bowl of disgusting eucalyptus candies that Naib had brought back from one of his jobs, because Norton had convinced him that since they were free, he should take them. But no one liked them, and although at first Norton forced himself to eat them, convincing himself that maybe these mints weren't so bad after all, but they were. They were really bad.

Eli, however, took one of the mints, and Norton just watched his expression as he sipped it. He grimaced slightly, but he didn't want it to show. Norton smiled slightly at that, a little mischievously.

“Didn't he tell you?’ Eli said after a while.

"He said it was none of my business," Norton shrugged.

Norton kind of wanted to know what was going on. Naib and Eli always seemed like very good friends. When Norton just watched them from the sidelines, there was Eli, Naib, and some other girl Norton had never met.

Eli smiled strangely.

“I understand”, he said.

“What was it about, anyway? You were good friends, weren't you?

"I think we still are," Eli said. "I guess..."

Norton realized he wouldn't learn anything from Clark. He wouldn't learn anything from Naib either, so he'd probably just remain in the dark. It was a bit infuriating, but what could he do?

"I didn't know Naib was seeing someone," Eli suddenly changed the subject and looked at Norton with that smile. So kind and comforting.

Norton didn't quite understand what Eli meant, so he raised an eyebrow and asked:

“In what sense?”

Eli was a little surprised.

“Oh, I thought you…” he started scratching his neck again.

"We're not gay," Norton said, perhaps a little reproachfully, and a little irritated with himself for that. "It's not that I have anything against gays, because I don't. They're okay, and it's none of my business." He started to defend himself, but he didn't really know who or what he was defending himself against. "They're okay people, often better than us," he finished ceremoniously, nodding to himself.

"Okay," Eli laughed. "I understand and get it. Are you his new roommate?"

Norton nodded. He didn't really know how to describe himself. Because he'd been living here for a while, a little longer, but a while nonetheless. So you could say he'd only been sleeping at Naib's... well, for a month.

Eli's owl suddenly began to hoot, interrupting the entire conversation. Eli began petting it. Norton just stared. It was a really pretty owl, and it seemed so soft. Norton wanted to pet it too, but the thought of it made his injured finger hurt even more, so no big deal.

“What's going on Brooke?” Eli started talking to his bird in a sweet voice.

It was actually quite touching. Norton had never had any animals. He'd sometimes go to the pastures and pet horses or cows, or run away from geese when he was little, but that was all. Still, he smiled at the memories.

"Where's your restroom?" Eli asked, and Brook jumped onto his hand.

Norton pointed to an old, once-white door with a plastic window. Eli stood up and headed in that direction.

"I'll show you something cool," he said, and encouraged Norton to come with him.

Then they went to the small, very small, bathroom and Clark let go of his owl and it sat on the toilet bowl (unfortunately they didn't have a toilet lock) and started to use the toilet.

"Oh my god," Norton was truly shocked. "She shits like a human," he pointed at Brooke.

“I taught her that recently,” Eli replied proudly.

Norton nodded approvingly, and then they went to the kitchen. Campbell even gave Eli his coffee, even though he hadn't planned on it at all, and they sat there while Clark complained about his parents and how bad his life was, but didn't say why. Norton finally managed to pet Brooke, so the day, although marred by a visit from what seemed to be his enemy, Naib, was a success.

"Tell him I was there and that I really want to talk," Eli said as he left.

Norton nodded and waved to Eli, who had gone off into the world with his owl.

****

It was raining that day. Naib, of course, didn't mind the inconvenience. Especially now that he was finally returning from one of his many jobs.

“Naib?" he heard a familiar voice.

He turned around and saw a girl standing with an umbrella, pointing at him.

“What a joke, I met you here!’ she immediately ran up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hi Martha,“ Naib smiled.

Martha was an old friend of his, but Naib hadn't seen her for some time. In fact,Subedar hadn't seen any of his friends or acquaintances for a long time, as he was immersed in his constant work. The only exception was his “housewife”, Norton Campbell.

"How are you? We haven't seen each other in ages." Martha put her arm around his shoulder and covered them with an umbrella to protect Naib from the rain. Naib, however, was already soaked through. Martha's sleeve was probably wet too, but she didn't seem to care.

"Work," Naib replied, smiling at her. "Lots of work."

Martha frowned.

"Are you overworking yourself again?" She moved closer to Naib, so that their cheeks were almost touching. Martha was much warmer than he was, and Naib could clearly feel the heat radiating from her.

"It's okay," Naib replied, perhaps genuinely thinking it was okay, but on the other hand, he also knew it wasn't. It was exhausting, especially in the long run.

Martha sighed.

-”Tell me how it's going there” Naib brushed away the hair falling over her forehead.

“In business?” Martha looked Naib straight in the eye.

“I meant more, how are you?”

"Same old school," Martha waved her hand. "I still live with Vera and I'm subject to all the university gossip. Did you know that Eli and Gertrude are no longer together?"

Naib swallowed. Eli...

“I heard”, he simply replied and looked away.

"I don't know what happened between them, but who really knows? Vera sometimes tells one story, then says something completely different." Martha shrugged. "Besides, we have new regulars." She lowered her voice slightly. "You know, in business."

Naib knew exactly what business Martha had in mind. Naib only nodded at this information, but Martha continued.

"I miss you there," Naiba pressed closer to her. "I miss you... besides, you know how Faro is lately, I mean, after all this..." She began to stumble a bit. "She has a new boyfriend... Another suspicious type, but you know, not as much as... you know." She looked at Naib, and he looked at her and nodded, understanding who she meant.

"It's calmer," she added after a moment. "You know... there's always room in case you change your mind." She looked at Naib again, and his face showed a slight conflict. "He won't be coming back, Naib." Martha hugged him again. "He hasn't been back for a year and a half, so he won't be coming back... anyway, maybe he's already in jail. Who knows."

Naib pondered. Not-so-good memories of his early days in the States flashed through his mind.

"I'll think about it," he said, and a smile appeared on Martha's face, as if Naib had said he was dropping everything and going back to business, but maybe Martha knew Naib better than he knew himself.

"I'd get us a great place," Martha said, getting a little too worked up. "So you wouldn't have to work so hard and you'd earn more," she smiled at Naib.

Naib smiled back and released the girl's embrace, and then they began walking somewhere. Naib didn't know where, but he simply wanted to talk to Martha, he couldn't hide, and he missed her terribly.

“I have a roommate,” Naib said after a while.

"Really? Who?" Martha's eyes widened as she looked at Naib, who smiled slightly at the memory of his new resident.

"That guy," he began, and Martha let out a quiet "uuuu" "He lost his job," Naib continued, rolling his eyes at Martha's reaction. "He's a total loser. I hope he finds a job soon and moves out. He doesn't clean anything, get it? I recently came home from work and the sink was full of dishes. I was thinking, oh fuck, I'm coming back from washing dishes, and I still have to wash dishes at home because that idiot can't clean up after himself." Naib started gesturing with his hands in all directions.

Martha laughed and patted Naib on the back.

"You got yourself a jet," she said, still laughing. "Your new boyfriend?" she added quickly, staring into Naib's face.

Naib grimaced.

“It's a friend of Martha's” probably a friend, who knows who it was, not Naib. “A roommate, that's all.”

Martha smiled, and Naib thought it looked a bit devilish.

Chapter Text

Norton's lifestyle lately has been diversified by trips to the university, where he wasn't studying. And yet, Norton didn't care when more and more professors in the kennel eyed him suspiciously, their glances saying, "You stink, Campbell," but Norton didn't stink because he'd been washing himself every day.

It was strange that he had been going out lately, and Campbell sometimes wondered if he had burned out some wires, because it was unusual, but being alone all the time seemed to be taking its toll.

There were still moments when Naib existed outside of work... but those were just moments in his life, during the day. Maybe he'd see him sometimes eating, or going to wash up, and sometimes they'd chat. In fact, Norton always told him what he'd read that day before going to bed. Just to open his mouth to someone. But Subedar always fell asleep halfway through, and maybe Norton knew this, but he still continued talking.

He was at the university now. He was sitting with Ganji and William, who were talking about Ganji's romantic dilemmas, who desperately wanted to snag some Anne, but Norton wasn't really listening, because what did it matter to him?

"Naib was hanging out with Martha again," Ganji said suddenly, changing the subject and looking at William. "I wonder if they're back together," he wondered, and Norton's eyes widened.

“Did Naib have a girlfriend?” he asked, but it's obvious that he must have had a girlfriend at some point, right?

“I don't know, he never says anything”, said Ganji and suddenly became very thoughtful about something.

“They’re just friends,” William interjected, and Ganji shot him a look.

“We don’t know,” he said, and William simply sighed.

Norton suddenly felt betrayed. He didn't understand this reaction. After all, if Naib had been with Martha, Norton would have known about it, because it was Norton. He was his tapeworm, his personal one, Naib's alone.

“You know, Ganji, you can just be friends with someone” said William, who strangely denied all this, and Norton even started to agree with him.

Naib only went to work, then slept and ate... Norton guessed. What if Naib actually had a life and never came home after work? Norton began to think about that very moment.

It's clear that Norton, being Norton, isn't exactly pleasant company. He was well aware of this, but it didn't bother him. It didn't. He'd never experienced anything that could have suited him to social life. Generally, Campbell knew he'd missed out on a lot during his formative years. He knew what working in the mines was like, and that was it.

Ganji waved his hand and started doing something on his flip phone. Norton envied him his flip phone.

“Have they known each other long?” Norton started his little investigation about Naib, because Naib never really talked much about Martha, but at the same time, when he did, you could very clearly feel that they were very close.

Norton was now convinced that they must be together, because all the dots were strangely starting to connect. He didn't know why, though, he felt such a strange fear and sense of deception.

"Almost as much as me and Naib, and we've known each other from the beginning," William said. "There were times when they did everything together, but I don't think… in fact, I'm convinced they were just friends," William concluded, looking at Ganji.

“You don't know that” Ganji stubbornly claimed otherwise.

"Naib would have told me" Norton suddenly began to deny that there was any possibility of Naib being in a relationship with Marta. "He would have told me," he stated nonchalantly.

Ganji laughed, which pissed Norton off a bit, so he glared at him.

“What are you laughing at?”

Ganji stopped laughing, but he was still smiling.

“You seem jealous, but actually you and Naib are like an old married couple in their fifties.”

Norton frowned and started to think about it for a while.

"I'm not," he replied, probably more to himself.

***

Today was a big day for Naib, in a way. He had a day off, his first in... a long time. A normal person would stay home and sleep during such a beautiful time, but Naib wasn't as normal as he might seem. So he decided to spend his precious hours with William, Ganji, and Norton at his favorite pizzeria, which he hadn't been to in so long, though, that he was even inspired to relive the taste of that ambrosia that was Hawaiian pizza.

Norton, of course, had been grumbling a bit before Naib kicked him out of his bed, where Norton had been spending his days lately, and that was truly worrying. Norton's overall strangeness had suddenly vanished, or rather, had changed. He was still strange, but it was a different kind of strangeness. Naib was slowly beginning to distinguish between the two moods Norton had. Currently, he was once again a morose hermit, complaining about his fate, exhausted by what seemed like just breathing, as he only went to the toilet and the refrigerator.

Norton didn't do much else. He stared at the ceiling or did crossword puzzles. It was truly sad to see Norton's newfound patheticness.

"Tracy's canceling the date again," William had been complaining for some time now, when everyone had arrived at the restaurant and taken a table.

Naib already knew the whole William love story. Things hadn't been going well for him and his girlfriend, Tracy, lately, and anyone with common sense could have predicted their relationship would soon fall apart. Naib, however, said nothing.

"Damn, I feel sorry for you, man," Ganji patted him on the shoulder, who gave Naib a knowing look. Ganji knew too.

Norton just looked at them and said nothing, probably had no idea who Tracy was, Naib guessed.

"It's okay," William tried to smile. "I expect the worst..." he added.

Naib also patted him on the shoulder and nodded.

"I'm telling you, relationships are real torture," William suddenly said, and lay down on the table, his dreadlocks almost resting on the pineapple pizza. Naib wouldn't even mind giving a damn, of course, to eat.

Then they said something else, but Naib was already devouring another slice of pizza. Norton was picking at his plate with his fork like a little child, which didn't go unnoticed by William, who targeted Norton.

"And how are you, Norton?" He put his arm around him, but Norton's face showed no emotion at the gesture; he didn't even look at William. "Are you seeing someone?" He looked at Naib sharply, and Naib shrugged mentally.

Norton muttered something like "Yeah." And Naib wanted to laugh at his answer, because what kind of person answers "Yeah" when asked if they're dating? It made no sense. Norton and his approach to relationships was so fucking pointless. What pissed Naib off, pissed him off so much for some reason. Fucking Norton, fucking Campbell.

"Really?" Ganji was surprised and moved closer to Norton. This was suddenly a huge sensation.

Norton glanced at them with his lazy gaze, from William to Ganji, then looked at Naib and held his gaze for a moment longer, as if suddenly thinking hard about something. Perhaps he was seeking Naib's help, but what was Naib supposed to do? He simply leaned on his hand and sipped his drink.

"Who is that?" William practically lunged at Norton, who, with his sudden movement, also moved Naib, hitting him in the shoulder. But Naib ignored him completely and watched with some amusement as Norton's face showed a clear desire to flee William. "Do I know her?" William began to ask, and Naib let out a short laugh.

Ganji looked at the brown-haired man and pointed at him.

“You know what, don't you?” scanned him with his eyes.

Naib just shrugged.

"Come on, Norton, who's the lucky girl?" Naib chuckled to himself, because his girlfriend certainly wasn't lucky to have Norton as a partner. Naib could imagine that after living with him for over a month.

“Melly,” Norton said simply.

William pulled away from Norton, who began rubbing his arm, but he didn't move away from Naib and now sat shoulder to shoulder with him. Perhaps due to his traumatic experience with William, he preferred to keep a safe distance.

"Melly..." Ganji thought for a moment, and now he and William were staring at the ceiling, perhaps trying to figure out who this Melly person was. Not that Naib even knew who she was, but he wasn't particularly interested either.

“He’s studying entomology,” Norton said, apparently seeing the two of them brainstorming.

Ganji and William remained seated, not quite understanding what Norton was saying, but Naib couldn't blame them, as he himself didn't know the meaning of the word Norton had used. Suddenly, he, too, became a little interested.

"What?" he finally asked, and Norton turned to him, perhaps a little pityingly, which irritated Naib. "English isn't my mother tongue, you fucking idiot," the Subedar said reproachfully.

Then Norton put on his smug face and began his speech.

"Entomology is the study of insects. It's one of the branches of zoology," he said proudly, as if it were some kind of feat that he knew the meaning of a word that no one uses anyway.

Naib rolled his eyes and continued drinking his Pepsi, resting his chin on his hand.

"That's cool," William said, and Ganji nodded. "How long have you been together?"

"Six months," Norton assured immediately, which was so pathetic, because the guy had probably seen her four times in that time. Naib was sure it was something like that, and that was if he was thinking positively.

"Damn, it's been a while," Ganji asked. "And you, Naib? Still a loner?" He looked at Naib and bored into him.

Naib shrugged, as if the whole topic didn't interest him. Because it didn't. It didn't interest him anymore. Naib was so old at that moment, Naib suddenly pictured himself in a nursing home he'd never be able to afford, and he'd probably never live to be old either.

Because really, what are relationships for? To be disappointed? To keep rolling that Sisyphean boulder? Naib had had enough, Naib retired from the relationship thing. Maybe he'd been disappointed too many times, because maybe Naib was a bit stupid too, and the only thing that saved him was that he finally realized it.

“As always, shrouded in mystery”, Ganji laughed.

Norton started staring at Naib, which he could feel on his neck, but Naib suddenly felt extremely tired, so he just closed his eyes and wanted to go to the land of dreams, but their favorite topic started, which was gossip.

"Did you know Eli and Gertrude broke up?" William said, the revelation Naib was so fed up with. They broke up over a week ago, why are they all still talking about it? Who even cares?

"Who's Gertrude?" Norton asked, confused, and Naib wanted to punch him in the face at that moment, because that meant this story wouldn't end there and they'd probably still be questioning him, considering Eli was a good friend of his. What a hell.

"Eli's ex-fiancée," William began to explain. "They broke up suddenly and no one knows why." He looked at Naib, who was already forming that frown between his eyebrows.

"Who cares?" he said, irritated. The whole Eli thing always irritated him so much he wanted to go out and punch someone in the face.

Ganji wanted to say something else, but William stopped him by grabbing his arm and shaking his head. Norton just stared at them all like a fool, seemingly unsure of what was happening.

Then William and Ganji chatted about sports, and even Norton occasionally added his two cents or started talking about his misfortune as a saver. Naib didn't say much, just lifted his head from the table and leaned against Norton's shoulder, closing his eyes. Maybe he should get some sleep? Or just rest. He was still incredibly tired, and one day off probably wouldn't save him from exhaustion. Two days might be enough.

Norton flinched a little at Naib using his arm as a pillow with impunity, but Norton used his bed as his own every day, so it was a barter.

Naib was almost falling asleep when he heard William's worried voice.

“Is he okay, Norton? He looks bad.”

William always worried too much about everyone else, Naib thought. That was just how he was, and Subedar actually appreciated him for it, but for himself, he preferred not to worry at all.

It wasn't that Naib was somehow pitiful (like Norton), it wasn't that he couldn't cope. In fact, he'd already experienced far worse than working from dawn to dusk. His life now resembled the colorful American dream he'd only dreamed of. Or maybe that was just his thought, but he didn't expect anything more, because it was truly enough.

“He works a lot,” Norton said, and Naib could feel him turn his head toward him.

Naib could still hear William sighing, but he stopped listening.

Naib fell asleep, he didn't even register the moment he drifted away, cuddled in the arms of Morpheus, to the land of dreams.

However, he did not stay in this wonderful sphere for long, because he was awakened by a strangely gentle nudge on the shoulder from Norton.

“Ganji and William have already left, they told you to say bye and to take care of yourself,” Norton said, and Naib slowly rose from his shoulder.

He saw that Norton's entire arm was covered in drool and felt a little foolish, but only for a moment, because Norton was actually wearing his sweatshirt anyway. That big, cool green one, which wasn't that big on Norton at all, and in fact fit him perfectly.

"Are we going home?" Norton raised an eyebrow at Naib. "I want to sleep," he added, yawning. "I sat here with you for about 30 minutes alone because you fell asleep like a baby."

Naib snorted at this.

“You should have woken me up.”

"And you sleep so little." Norton looked at Naib very sharply. It was somehow strange.

And then they got up and left the pizzeria. It was almost May, so the nights were getting warmer. So they walked lazily toward home, because it wasn't that far. If it had been winter, they would have had to row with their legs too, because whoever could afford a car, could afford one.

"Hey Naib," Norton asked, "Why do you work so much? I mean, you live in, excuse me, a shack, so I don't understand."

Naib looked at Norton and sighed. The man was incredibly stupid. Not everyone has to take care of only themselves.

"I'm sending money to my mom," Naib replied, lighting a cigarette. Ah yes, a cigarette after eating was just what he needed. He immediately felt better.

“To Nepal?” Norton asked.

Naib nodded, and there was silence. A strange silence that began to bother Naib a little. He was about to say something, anything, when Norton suddenly spoke:

“Hey, I'll find a job and pay you back for everything, okay?”

Naib hadn't expected something like this, especially at this moment. Did Norton feel sorry for him too? Did they all have to feel so sorry for Naib? He wasn't as weak and fragile as they all thought. Naib hated this foolish pity. Norton was the one worthy of it, not Naib, who wasn't as stupid about life as Norton fucking Campbell.

Yet the idea that Norton might feel a little sorry for him ignited something strange within him. It was definitely unsettling.

So Naib just nodded and yawned, stretching.

"Okay," he finally said as they walked, and Norton wasn't exactly running like an ostrich even today.

He probably ate too much pizza, but so did Naib. The Hawaiian was heaven, and luckily Norton understood that, or simply didn't care, like he doesn't care about anything.

“I will pursue you with your debts like the tax office until I die, you don't have to worry about it" Naib laughed and Norton burst out laughing too.

"Okay," he said and tapped Naib on the shoulder.

And they went home, where Norton was once again struggling to turn on the shower, and Naib was trying to lull himself to sleep with a movie, which he commented on passionately, and Norton even occasionally responded from the bathroom. Then they watched the movie together because it turned out to be oddly interesting.

Naib thought that moments like these were really cool. But they were just moments.

Naib thinks he should really consider going back to business.

Chapter Text

Naib had been standing on the dishcloth for eight hours, which seemed like an eternity.

The plates must have been piling up while he was washing them, because there was no end in sight. And then there was the cutlery, the worst thing he'd had to deal with today.

His hands were now the hands of an old man. Maybe that was why Naib truly thought he'd spent his entire life scraping plates and washing those damn knives he sometimes wanted to use to stab into all those damn people who clearly didn't have homes or the ability to cook. Pathetic.

“This hell will soon be over” said the red-haired girl who kept bringing the plates and was just as tired as Naib.

Naib nodded, perhaps wanting to offer some encouragement to Lily, who had been so cheerful and full of life in the morning, only to be struck down by gastroenteritis.

And indeed, fewer plates arrived, until finally something happened that no one here probably thought would happen. It ended.

Naib sighed and gave the sponge a final whack, and Lily sat on the counter and stared blankly at the ceiling.

“It's over“ Naib said solemnly and looked at Lily, who immediately jumped off the counter.

“Freedom” she said and ran out and Naib didn't see her anymore.

Naib walked out in front of this restaurant, perhaps small, but which on a Saturday evening was full of people who had too much money.

He felt wonderful fresh air that he had probably never felt before, at least he felt as if he was breathing for the first time.

He pulled his Russian cigarettes out of his oversized jacket, from which Norton had recently stolen a few dollars. At least Norton seemed to think he was being so clever and some kind of kleptomaniac, but in reality, Naib was leaving them there for Norton. Perhaps to force him to leave the house.

Subedar had been thinking too much about this Norton thing, and maybe he was a little stupid. He sighed and exhaled a cloud of smoke. He closed his eyes and savored the vibrancy of the night.

“Yo Naib” he heard Norton now even in his thoughts. This wasn't normal anymore, was it?

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and foul breath next to his face that could only belong to one person.

“What are you doing here, Campbell?” He stood impassive and continued smoking.

“You finished your work, right?” Norton was now standing in front of him and had even shoved Naib's favorite shoes, which he practically wore like slippers, onto his heels, ruining the back of them.

Naib stared at the footwear for a moment, but he didn't even seem to care that much. He probably should, right? But nothing seemed to truly interest him lately. There was only the endless whirlwind of work and the occasional nap, and then Norton.

“Yeah, so what?” Naib looked at Norton, who was standing there like an idiot.

Norton looked truly idiotic at times. Standing there with his mouth slightly open and his eyes staring at some random point. Only that scar saved him in those moments of stupidity. Really cool, Naib had to agree.

"I want to show you something," Norton said and crossed his arms.

Naib raised an eyebrow.

What was this guy on about? What normal person comes at 2 a.m. to pick up some dude to show him something? Not that Norton was normal. He definitely wasn't.

Naib sighed again, a little tired of the sudden questioning of Campbell's meaning that was going on in his head.

He usually knew what people were thinking in moments like these. That much was obvious, but Norton? Norton was a fucking enigma. He had no shame, no ability to think either. Naib sometimes wondered if he even had the capacity to feel anything other than self-pity. Maybe it was a little annoying and frustrating, because you had to make so many hypotheses, and some of them were probably a bit far-fetched.

“At 2 a.m.?” Naib smiled slightly because it was pathetic and strange.

Norton stared at the sky as if trying to solve a mystery of the universe. He looked even sillier than before, and Naib wanted to just laugh at his being, his fucking being.

“Damn, is it that time already?” he looked at Naib, who just shrugged.

Norton began to scratch his beard and suddenly seemed embarrassed by all this, which was something new and interesting to Naib.

"Let's go then," said Naib, still smiling.

He stamped out his cigarette and started walking, deliberately nudging, not at all gently, Norton, who was standing there. But then he turned to Naib.

"It's not far," he said, and walked next to the brown-haired man, who actually headed towards their house because he had no idea where to go.

“You have to walk a bit, but I tell you it's worth it” and now Norton was smiling too.

Norton had a truly childlike smile, but at the same time it was the smile of someone who rarely uses it, quite unlike children.

Then Norton took a bit of a lead, and of course Naib must have been moving his legs really fast, because the dark-haired man was incredibly excited. He said something about recently trying to connect with nature and discovering an interesting place.

"I discovered them by accident while I was out for a walk," Norton said, and Naib was a little surprised that Norton was actually going out when Naib wasn't home. It was a pleasant surprise.

Then they walked along the road for a while, getting a bit out of the way, and then Norton turned abruptly into some thickets. Naib raised an eyebrow at this and stopped. Walking through fallow fields or other thickets wouldn't have bothered Naib. It would have been really cool, maybe even a bit of a treat. But it was about three in the morning, and it might have been unusually bright, but Naib had finished work and was not particularly tired.

And Norton had absolutely no survival instincts, but Naib was so interested in what the man was about to show him, so fascinated, that he simply followed him. It was the first time Campbell had embarked on any initiative... whatever it was. A two-man raid, or a black-haired maniac episode. Who knew? Naib didn't, but it was interesting; he couldn't say otherwise.

"Look," Norton pointed proudly at an old bridge over some dried-up river. "Cool, right?" he scratched his nose, still smirking, so pleased with himself.

Naib walked over to it and stood staring at it, now a bit of a ruin, but a place quite familiar, even very familiar. He let out a short laugh, remembering old times. Those good times.

Norton walked under the stone, or rather brick, bridge and pointed to its wall.

“Do you recognize it?” He looked at Naib and smiled.

Subedar approached him. Of course he recognized it.

They looked at the large graphite scribbles under the bridge. There were many different drawings, which made Naib smile and think back to those days.

Norton walked closer to one of the signs and gestured for Naib to come closer.

“Yours?” He pointed to the sign saying "Naib".

"Yeah" Naib replied, and now looked at the next inscriptions: "Martha, William, Vera." He smiled as he read the names. There was also a year when each of them signed here. It was, of course, one of many years from the end of the world, 2002. Three years ago.

"Who drew these graphites?" Norton asked, still staring at Naib, who was walking around and looking at all the scribbles.

"I did," Naib said, shrugging. "I used to play around with it a bit," he added, and sat down on a rock, leaning against the wall and lighting a cigarette. Ah, yes, cigarettes tasted different here.

“Dude” Norton plopped down next to him. “They're really good.”

Naib didn't answer, just exhaled the smoke and savored the night's vibrancy. Suddenly, he felt truly pleasant. A little chilly, but then Norton sat down next to him and began whining, so he could smell his breath, which was supposed to be stinky, but not quite as bad.

"I don't believe there was a time when you were actually interested in something," Norton began. "It literally sounds like a wild concept."

"I didn't work that much then," Naib replied.

“So why are you working now?” Norton asked, staring at him with those black eyes again and making an expectant face.

Naib blew smoke in his face, and Norton started coughing.

“I had a better job then”, he said finally.

The better job, of course, was dealing drugs and engaging in shady activities. Naib suddenly found himself longing for that life. It was easier and much more interesting than the one he led now—a life of washing dishes or shifting packages. And so on, endlessly.

Back then, Naib would simply wander around dark alleys, punch someone in the face, and occasionally go to parties where he actually had the energy to have fun instead of lying around all evening on some banana guy house's lawn. Where he'd just wait until he'd finally had this so-called fun and could go home, and this day wouldn't be as pointless as any other. But days like these were even more pointless, as he always felt later in the morning due to the immense exhaustion caused by the extremely little sleep and alcohol. And then he'd have headaches all day, which he spent at his next job.

Naib remembered how he used to have the time and energy to hang out with his friends. Now he realized he hadn't spoken to Vera in three months, and with William he only talked about pointless things. He'd tried to see Martha lately, but those were just quick meetings, chatting about meaningless things that none of them really cared about.

There were problems of a different kind then, perhaps a little more serious than now, but Subedar suddenly thought that it was all worth living then.

Naib was lost in thought when he felt Norton nudge his shoulder.

“What were you thinking about?”

Naib shrugged and stepped on the cigarette he had already smoked.

"I don't know, but maybe life sucks a little." Norton's moods must have rubbed off on him, because it clearly sounded like something only he could say.

"If you're poor, then of course it sucks and it will suck until the end." Norton reverted to the pessimistic gibberish he'd been habitually feeding Naib for some time now. Lately, all he'd been talking about was this eternal pain. "You know, man, I don't know how you haven't given up on this fucking job yet. Honestly, I'd rather die than work like this."

Naib frowned at what Norton said.

"You never had anyone to work for, that's why you say that," he leaned on his hand, which he had placed under his head. "You're selfish, Norton," he added sarcastically, but lately he really wanted to rub those words in his face.

Norton was silent for a moment, and Naib may have felt a little remorse, but Campbell really deserved it.

"It's true," Norton said, sounding strange. "Although I worked for my father, it wasn't of my own free will, so I've never worked for anyone. Honestly, I didn't want to work in the mines since I was a kid, and yet I spent my entire life there, I barely saw my parents." He suddenly began to talk, and Naib listened intently, because it was rare for him to talk about his past. "I didn't even go to middle school because I had to work for half the salary," he laughed. "Not even half the salary, it was practically free. Day after day, to the mines, to the darkness, the stuffiness, the stench, and those fuckers. Ever since I was a kid, it was always that fucking job."

Naib remained silent, suddenly understanding Norton a little better. But Norton had stopped talking too, and now they were sitting in a stupid silence, so Subedar decided to break free.

"I had a good time in Nepal," he began. "I mean, as far as childhood goes. We weren't rich, actually, maybe we were poor, but it was easier back then. But then everything went to shit." He paused, recalling his past mistakes. "So I started hanging out with some shady characters, and then I left. First, to England."

"Have you been to England?" Norton interrupted.

"Yeah," Naib said, lighting another cigarette, which made Campbell grimace a little. "Did you ever ask where I got that scar?" He pointed to the scars next to his mouth. "Some idiot gave them to me there." He exhaled cigarette smoke.

“Mine is from the explosion” Norton started playing with his hands.”In the mine.”

Naib nodded that he understood.

"This is America now," the brown-haired man continued. "I wanted to get back on track here. It was hard at first. You know, living a normal life, without all those shady, fucked-up gangsters or other weird people. Eventually, it worked out, somehow, something worked out."

Norton said nothing, but indicated that he understood.

“But life sucks” Naib spread his arms and legs and stretched.

Subedar didn't know why he suddenly opened up to someone like Norton, as if he were in some kind of therapy session. It was strange, and he suddenly began to feel guilty for saying anything. It wasn't that he didn't trust Norton—the guy didn't have any friends—but maybe he felt a little ashamed. All those stupid decisions he'd made had led him to this point. He'd brought it all on himself. And Norton? Norton was simply born and forced, without choice, into such a miserable life.

"Hey," Norton began suddenly. "Are you and Martha together?" Naib's eyes widened, because the question was so unpredictable and unexpected at that moment that Subedar was momentarily at a loss for words. He just stared in surprise at Norton, who was staring at him like a fool again, as always.

He suddenly found this very amusing, so he started laughing, and Norton looked confused and raised an eyebrow at Naib.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked, grabbing his shoulder and shaking it. "Have you lost your mind from all this constant grinding, or what?" Norton smiled a little too, but at the same time he still looked like he'd fallen from space.

"I just don't know where you got that from," he finally said, still laughing a little.

“Ganji said that you were probably together.”

“Listen to Ganji, and you'll be wearing Norton flaps in the winter.” Naib nudged him in the shoulder.

“Aren't you?” asked Norton, who was strangely interested in this, but that was the funniest thing about it all for Naib.

“What, do you want to test your skills or what?” he laughed and moved dangerously closer to Norton, who looked a little embarrassed.

"I don't know," Norton replied. "I'm just interested, because I'd probably know, right?"

Naib pulled away from Norton and laughed shortly.

"Man, you're supposed to know?" He looked at Norton, who still looked confused and lost in the woods.

“Why not?” Norton was clearly a little nervous, because Naib noticed his characteristic tic of the mouth that he always did when he was angry.

Naib just smiled and shrugged. He was suddenly in a good mood, and maybe he should think about why, but that would probably ruin him all over again.

Then they sat in silence again, and Naib tried to light another cigarette, but Norton snatched it from his hand.

“How much fucking shit are you smoking?” he got irritated and threw the cigarette somewhere behind him.

Naib was furious because it was a good, brand new, unsmoked cigarette. That wrinkle between his eyes appeared on his forehead, and it would only deepen, and for a moment like this, it might even stay there forever.

“Why are you so worried?” Naib said reproachfully.

"Because you stink," Campbell said, and suddenly Naib really wanted to punch him in the face. "And you'll die early," he added. "Lung disease is no joke, Naib” he said. He suddenly sounded like some smug teacher no one liked. Subedar didn't like him at that moment.

"Fuck off," he said finally, but he didn't take out his cigarette.

Naib shoved his hands into his pockets and stared ahead, still leaning against the wall. Pointless, he thought, but he didn't even know what for. He suddenly felt strangely frustrated. Maybe it was the lack of a cigarette, or maybe the prospect of another night washing dishes tomorrow. Or maybe something else, but he didn't know and didn't want to know.

"I'm going to a job interview," Norton said suddenly, or maybe he had already said something earlier, but Naib had drifted off a bit, lost in this Nortonian philosophy of nonsense.

“Really?” he turned to Norton.

"In some shop," he said. "I'm supposed to come tomorrow."

Naib should have been happy, but somehow he couldn't. He couldn't enjoy anything about work right now, because all the hard work had sucked the life out of him, and now it would probably do the same to Campbell, who already had little life left in him.

"We'll see what happens," Norton said.

Then they sat around for a while longer, even as dawn began to dawn. They chatted about anything and everything. Norton whined as if reading an encyclopedia about rocks that, to Naib, were just rocks, but Campbell called each one by some strange name that Naib would probably never be able to remember. It's a good thing that, even though he can speak English, such unnecessary words only take up space in his head.

Naib didn't talk much, lost in his own thoughts. He wondered about Norton; he really couldn't get the guy out of his head. He felt a bit like his life revolved around Campbell. But maybe that was exactly what it was. The only person he saw every day.

And then they went home, where they ate dinner together, or rather breakfast, and fought over the bathroom, and then went to bed. But tonight, sleeping with Campbell was a bit strange for Naib. He wasn't entirely sure why, he guessed, of course, but he wanted to put it out of his mind. Norton was too stupid to do anything. So he pulled away slightly, praising his small height and slight frame; after all, it was useful for something. And so they went to bed.

Chapter Text

Norton woke up earlier than usual today. It was unusual, but he couldn't sleep any longer. Today was a big day. Maybe not so much a big day as a doomsday day. Yes, it was doomsday for Norton Campbell. He had a job interview.

He wasn't even entirely sure where he was applying. However, as soon as he got out of bed, he glanced at the newspaper lying on Naib's tiny desk. Norton chuckled to himself, because Naib didn't really need a larger desk, considering his height and slight frame.

“Liquor store,” he read and nodded.

It didn't really seem like a difficult job, in fact it was more like a job anyone could get, and maybe that was what worried Norton the most.

He went to the bathroom and looked at his face. He wanted to know what his physical appearance said about everything he'd gotten himself into, like in those cool movies you see at the cinema where the hero stares into the mirror and thinks. Norton was thinking too.

He no longer looked as bad as he did during his real homelessness. His skin had a better complexion, and his cheeks were fuller. The bags under his eyes remained, but just those he'd been born with, not deepened by the spots of fatigue and stress. His hair was washed and disheveled, but healthier. The scar was the same as always.

Norton said his face was missing something, but he hadn't figured out what it was yet.

He brushed back his hair and began to examine his sharp jaw, even deciding that he hadn't come into this world so ugly. It's a shame he was poor and without a future.

He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment and left the bathroom.

There was still plenty of time left to talk, but Norton couldn't quite focus on doing nothing, which usually came easily to him. Even if it was boring.

He decided to get dressed. However, he decided he wouldn't dress up like an ostrich for God's body, because work wasn't as important to him as God and his body, even though he probably no longer believed in God. Norton decided he was too busy with other philosophies and wouldn't touch on this one. Besides, he was poor, and it was infuriating to hear that he had been chosen as a poor man by the creator himself, and that he would receive only reward for it after death. After death? What would he care about after he died? He would die and not live. And he would suffer for the rest of his life so who cares about this reward.

He suddenly decided that there was no God, and if there was, Norton was boycotting him.

So he dressed as he normally would. In some Naib hoodie, which still smelled of Naib—or rather, cigarettes and his sweat, which might not even be as bad a smell as the stench of cigarettes themselves. Actually, it was maybe even a good smell.

He also put on his Levi's trousers, which he'd scrounged while still living in the barracks with other Irish who'd come to the new land illegally. They were precious trousers, and he was extremely fond of them, especially when Naib told him they were really nice. Norton felt the pride of owning a piece of fabric for the first time.

And then again, he didn't know what to do. Norton had never been so nervous about a job interview. He'd never had one like this before. He didn't really understand what this whole thing was about. He was going to work, not talk. What would they even talk about?

He started biting his nails, as if there was nothing else left for him to do. He wanted to look at the newspaper with the ad again, but suddenly he felt an extraordinary sense of stress and a strange fear. He couldn't explain it, but he wouldn't be able to handle the newspaper for a damn thing.

He looked around the apartment. He saw all the strange decorations that were there. Naib had once told him that when he moved in, many of these strange objects were already here, so he just found a place for them so they wouldn't be left in boxes. A very interesting person must have lived here once, Norton concluded.

Campbell was still sitting, but finally he looked at the plastic wall clock and stood up as if scalded.

“Oh my god” he said, and it wasn't very boycotting this whole god thing.

There was an hour left until the meeting. Norton had previously said he would come to the meeting just in time , as it was only a liquor store, but at that point he couldn't sit still anymore and began to become extremely afraid of being late, and perhaps even convinced himself he was.

Norton wasn't even afraid of the work itself; it felt like doing nothing, just being away from home and getting paid for it. Perhaps what he was afraid of was this whole conversation.

Conversation wasn't Norton's strong suit in general. He simply didn't enjoy it. It was tiring, sometimes even more so than a day in the mines.

He stepped outside and breathed in the fresh air. The air of their backyard, that is, which wasn't entirely pleasant. The smell of dust, dirt, and simmering broth, and in the distance, a bit of piss. The wonderful smell of poverty, and Norton sometimes liked it. It brought him down to earth. Now, too, he immediately felt better.

He stood for a moment and watched the children playing bubble gum. They seemed so happy. Poverty must not have robbed them of their childhood, he thought bitterly.

Then he went to the beheading, or the conversation, who knows what it was.

Norton, of course, got around by foot. He didn't have a car, and Naib's bike was sometimes taken to work. So it was his only option, because bus tickets were expensive, and Norton didn't want to waste Naib's money on something like that. Especially since his legs were still free.

So it took him longer to get there than he expected.

The sun was shining down on him, scorching his hair. Campbell walked at his fastest pace and was out of breath, but it turned out he'd misjudged the time it would take him to get to that damn liquor store.

Finally, a small, very dingy place with neon signs that didn't glow properly appeared before Norton. It was a dive, but that suddenly made the dark-haired man feel better somehow.
He entered through a glass door, one pane of which was broken and covered only with some translucent foil.

The inside wasn't much better. Dingy walls, a damp smell, and boxes of beer and spirits everywhere. There was, admittedly, a rather attractive shelf behind the counter, with a shiny wall, and on it were the more expensive alcohols, for the elite, as Norton always said.

Then a man wearing glasses appeared, who struck Norton as unusually slimy. He looked at him and smiled in a very artificial way. Campbell didn't return the smile and simply stood there, waiting for him to speak.

“Campbell?” he asked, but there was a hint of boredom and maybe even a little disgust in his voice as he stared at the scar Norton had on his face.

“Yeah,” Norton replied, also sounding disinterested in the conversation.

“Follow me, please,” he said, and entered a door, and Norton followed him.

Then he sat down at the designated spot, and the man found himself right behind a dingy, small desk. The whole small room was even more dingy, and the lights flickered unpleasantly, which irritated Norton. But it was a liquor store, so the dark-haired man wasn't at all surprised the place looked like this. Like any other convenience store in his town in Ireland, that is.

"So," the snob Norton had already begun to dislike began. "You're applying for a position at our store, right?" That sarcastic smile never left his face.

“Yes,” Norton replied, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.

"So let's start with a few questions." He began shuffling some papers on his desk, and to Norton he now seemed incredibly pathetic. "Why do you want to work for us?" he asked.

"Because I want to make money," he replied curtly, still staring into the eyes of this idiot who was making this conversation seem so serious. Norton wanted to laugh a little at that. Nobody works at a liquor store out of passion.

"I understand," he replied, and asked. "Why do you think you are qualified for this position?"

“Because I can work”, he said.

“And anything else?” The man leaned forward slightly and began to stare intently at Norton's face.

Campbell was silent for a moment, but then he began to speak.

"Because it's a job so easy a child could handle it. Because you need an employee?" The whole conversation was a joke to Campbell at that moment.

The man grimaced at Norton's response.

“Why do you think we should hire you?”

"It's the same question," he replied irritably. "Because I can work, and you need an employee."

The guy with glasses didn't say anything and just started writing something.

"I understand," he looked contemptuously at Norton, who wanted to get up and leave, having had enough of this constant contempt, but he really needed work, because he was tired of watching Naib barely survive. "Do you smoke?" he added, leaning over the desk again.

What difference did it make whether Norton smoked or not? Were they talking about work, or was it just casual chatter at this point?

“No”, he replied briefly.

“You smell of tobacco, sir” the man smiled sarcastically.

"Roommate smokes," Norton blurted out immediately.

The man just nodded, still glaring at Norton, and started writing something down on those damned papers again. They sat in silence for a moment, and then he announced.

"You're not a suitable candidate for a job in our store, I'm sorry." He wasn't sorry and Norton knew it and suddenly felt so irritated that he wanted to stand up and punch the bastard in the face, but he just opened his mouth and said:

"To work at a liquor store?" he laughed. "Really? You think a job carries some kind of prestige, right? That you need some special skills, an education, preferably a university degree. Because it's so hard to sell alcohol to some idiot, so hard, right?" Norton stood up, and the slimy guy continued to smile contemptuously at him.

“You're not suitable, sir“ he shrugged and made a sympathetic face.

Norton just laughed at all this and left, slamming the door. He'd had enough.

He walked up to the cash register where some young girl was trying to talk to some really drunk fucker and he grimaced at this and maybe he wanted to curse at the fucked up world a little, but he just bought two bottles of vodka and left.

He was angry at the whole world. At all those stupid people, and maybe a little at himself too. Actually, maybe it was mostly anger directed at himself, because why did he have to be just that? Why did he have to be poor, unsociable, uncharismatic? Norton had absolutely nothing. He simply was, just existed. It turned out I might not even be cut out for a job at some stupid liquor store, because the world had decided that people like him were piss and their only place was in the mines or some other physical labor, because they were all clearly worthless.

He opened one of the vodka bottles and drank almost half of it, wincing at the bitter, disgusting taste.

And then he headed home, because what else was he supposed to do? He lost, as always.

He entered this apartment, which wasn't his at all. He was already rocking back and forth, having knocked over a bottle of vodka on the way. He struggled with his shoes, then looked at the couch and saw Naib.

“Naib?” he said, and it even sobered him up a bit.

The man turned to him and nodded. He looked miserable, with a grimace on his face and dark circles under his eyes. A wrinkle between his brows was also visible; he was clearly not in a good mood.

Norton walked up to him and stood in front of him.

“Sorry, I bought this with your money” he showed him a bottle of vodka.

Naib looked at him for a moment and said nothing, then snatched the alcohol from his hand.

"That's good," he said and started drinking the water for losers.

It turned out that today they both got a taste of the truth about their existence. Norton didn't get the job, and Naib was told they'd pay him less at one of his jobs because they suddenly had millions more to replace him, and he either took it or got the hell out. Naib took it.

Chapter Text

Another day in Norton's life promised to be just like any other this month. A month of sitting on the couch and staring at the ceiling light. Since the liquor store scandal, Norton had returned to his old life of doing nothing.

Norton admired the spider that perched on the lamp every day, hunting mosquitoes. According to Campbell, this spider was an allegory for his life: a perpetual struggle for survival.

The worm's web would occasionally break as mosquitoes snagged it. This, according to Norton, referred to the Sisyphean task of the poor. They work to survive, yet despite everything, they are unable to acquire anything. Just like this spider. If its web didn't break, it could take over not only the lamp but every corner of the ceiling. They could find a city, have children, and establish a true civilization. But it can't achieve that. It's like him. Like Norton.

The black-haired man sighed and closed his eyes. The hopelessness of life hit him with each passing day. With each passing moment. Today, even more so.

It was well after noon. Naib still wasn't home, having left for work at 3:00 a.m. Norton was a little intimidated by Subedar's schedule for the month, but he didn't say anything. Although he shivered every time he saw Naib returning from work, eating whatever he could get his hands on, and then going to bed. Sometimes he bathed. But he often did so in the morning, too, and then went to work with wet hair.

Norton rolled over. He decided there was no point in truly feeling sorry for Naib. He had chosen this fate. And yet, at times, he felt a strange pang of guilt.

“Hopeless” he said to himself and got up from the couch as if it had burned him.

Campbell headed for the door. He also grabbed some money from Naib's jacket pocket. Norton wondered why he always left it there, but oh well, the idiot had forgotten about it anyway, because he never asked for it again.

He left the house. Summer was almost here. Wonderful time, beautiful weather. Suddenly, Norton's mood improved slightly as the warm sunbeams warmed his body.

He narrowed his eyes like a cat and stood there for a moment. Then he went to the university.

Due to his lack of work, he'd been going there a lot lately. It annoyed him that Naib was never home. Subedar had said he'd be changing jobs soon, but he'd been saying that for a week, so Norton stopped believing him. It would be so nice if Naib were on Norton's payroll more often. But of course, that lunatic had chosen the fate of a full-time saver.

According to Norton, Naib was a bit stupid, unwise. He was a bit like Norton once was. Like Norton before he discovered a new philosophy of life. A philosophy that said that no matter what you do, if you're born a loser, you'll die a loser. And Norton may have been irritated that fate had treated him so unfairly. He might even have been a bit bitter, but he had every right to be.

“Damn” Norton got a little irritated as he struggled with the keys.

Norton was generally in a bad mood today. He was irritated with this clown who was never even home. And when he was, he acted strangely.

Norton had discovered a while ago that Naib was avoiding him a bit. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to him or make fun of Norton, but something had changed, and it was irritating Campbell. All those sentences he started but never finished, and then the chatter about completely irrelevant trivialities. Or when, for some reason, Naib would suddenly pull away from Norton on the couch when, as always, Norton, excited about his stories, started shaking him.

Which was why Norton was now, somewhat in spite of himself, on his way to a place where he wasn't as bored as he was at home.

Actually, when Norton first got there, he wanted to shoot himself in the head because what was this? Some eccentric drama club full of crazy people.

At first, it was the blond one who irritated him the most. Mike Morton.

Norton had some vague memories of a past party where Mike gives him drugs and Norton suddenly thinks he's the laughing crowd at a comedy.

Then he got to know Mike a little better. When he came here. He realized Mike was a loud, always oddly cheerful, spoiled brat, and so, in keeping with his moral code, he began to hate him.

Mike was filthy rich, he didn't have many problems, what problems could rich people have? He was handsome, well-liked, and had a bright future ahead of him. Everything Norton never had the chance to experience.

But Norton didn't envy him. Maybe a little. Norton simply resented him. Although Mike always greeted Norton with a childlike kindness, like some kind of pope.

And perhaps it was Mike's naivety and stupidity that melted the ice between them. Norton had simply spotted a literal goldmine.

If Norton wanted something, Mike bought it for him. Actually, Norton didn't even have to want anything, because Mike loved giving him gifts for some reason. He was probably too rich, and seeing Norton as poor as he was simply made him feel sorry for him. Perhaps pity was an abomination, but Norton didn't mind, new shoes are real.

That's exactly what the rich were like. Generous to the extreme. They think they can buy anything with those magical pieces of paper. And perhaps that's true, but Norton considered that his downfall. They were all simply beneath Norton, or any other saver. They were stupid and naive.

Mike was just like that, which is why Norton warmed his interactions with him. In fact, he sometimes thought he might even like Mike, but that was impossible considering how much he simultaneously despised him.

But there were moments when it was really fun. Mike gave Norton a ton of compliments. Some of them might have been meaningless, like "you have beautiful features" or "that look could knock anyone out," but Norton enjoyed hearing them. Finally, someone appreciated him, even if what he said was empty.

Mike strongly encouraged him to join the drama club. He saw him as an actor. Norton never confided in him his childhood dreams of becoming a stage star, yet he seemed to see through it. Which couldn't be true, because Mike's brain was too small for such observations.

“Hey Norton!” Mike ran up to Norton, who was just entering the backstage area of ​​their little stage.

He was about to attack Norton, but the black-haired man dodged.

“Yo Mike” he said and patted him on the back.

Mike spun around, his trademark smile still on his lips, the one that never seemed to leave, and Norton wondered if he had it when he slept too.

Then Norton saw the rest of the crew sitting on some old couch with two armchairs, playing cards at a small bench.

"Norton's here," Mike shouted to them, and Norton suddenly wanted to sink into the ground.

He was proclaimed like some kind of king and now everyone looked at him.

Margie smiled faintly, as she always did, and waved at Norton. Joker just looked at him with that sad expression of his, but his brows were furrowed. There was also Violetta, who smiled like the sun at Norton. She was a truly delightful girl, Campbell had to admit.

They approached them and Mike hung on Norton's shoulder like a marmoset.

Campbell tried to throw him off, but Mike, despite his battered frame, was remarkably strong. Or maybe Norton was just weak.

Norton noticed a strange exchange of glances between Joker and Mike, which even interested him, but eventually he sat down on the couch with Mike next to him and stopped thinking about it.

He glanced at the table, which was covered with cards and Monopoly banknotes. They were playing poker, and Norton grabbed his chin and watched.

"How are you, Norton?" Violetta asked in her sweet, slightly trembling voice. She was so kind and well-mannered.

“Cool“ replied Norton and was attacked by Mike again, he scratched his arm and Norton sat there a little irritated.

"We have hashish," Margaretha said, and Norton could now see some strange pipe or whatever it was next to her. Norton didn't know. "Want some?" She handed him this device that looked a bit like a pump.

Norton looked a bit stupid, but he took it in his hand.

"That's the pipe," Mike said.

Campbell suddenly wasn't so excited anymore. He was reminded of those damn cigarettes Naib was probably using to breathe right now.

“I don't smoke” he said indifferently and wanted to give Morton the "pipe", but he stopped him.

"Come on, Norton," he said, resting his head on Norton's shoulder. Norton didn't understand why Mike was too dumb to understand that the dark-haired man didn't like being touched. "At least try, okay?" He looked at Norton pleadingly and took the pipe to his mouth, then exhaled the smoke. However, it didn't smell like smoke; it had a strange odor, like the houses of the so-called healers Norton had visited once when he was very young because he had chickenpox.

Norton frowned, but he was already getting annoyed by Morton's stare, so he just took a drag, and oh my god, these were completely different from Naib's fucking russian cigarettes.

He felt his lungs clearing, and that smoke? Or maybe not smoke, filled his lungs, and suddenly they felt pleasantly cool.

Margie laughed.

“I think you liked it”, she said, and Violetta just smiled at that.

Joker sat quietly, watching Margie and Mike, and occasionally giving Norton what seemed like a slightly angry look. But there was also a sadness that Norton could never truly be angry with him.

Mike was laughing now and took another drag on his pipe, and now they were each passing it around from time to time.

Then they talked about some new play of theirs, full of all this senseless love and some great poetic ecstasies, which, according to Norton, were very beautiful, and he even felt a little sad that such things only happened in art. At the same time, if they could actually happen, they wouldn't be art at all.

Although perhaps Mike Morton had lived his entire life in this art form. When Norton looked at him, he couldn't quite believe that this guy was actually serious.

“Norton, you should join us,” Mike finally said and laughed.

Suddenly, they were all so at ease. Norton felt so relaxed in that moment, completely overcome by that American cool. Norton, involuntarily, smiled a little, but nodded at Mike's words. Although Campbell had dreams, he was a realist, perhaps even a bit pessimistic; sometimes he thought that maybe it really was true. But preparing for the worst was always the best. You can never be disappointed, only surprised. It was sound logic, Norton thought. Safe for someone like him.

"I'm not suitable," he finally said, shrugging, as Naib often did. He seemed to be picking up some of his habits, but then again, they lived together.

Mike suddenly threw his arms around him, giving Norton no time to react to the strange excesses of the blond, who didn't understand the concept of personal space. He immediately began talking.

"Not true! Not true at all, Norton." His facial expression was so theatrical at that moment, in fact, Mike was like that all the time. "I can recognize a diamond in the rough." He detached himself from Norton and pointed at himself.

Campbell liked the comparison and smiled a little involuntarily.

"You need to let go of yourself, Nort” Mike put his arm around him. Morton was making so many unnecessary movements.

“What do you mean?|” Norton was a little confused, so he frowned. At that moment, he was as relaxed and uninhibited as a pair of worn-out underwear.

“For life” Mike began to speak haughtily and again gestured with one hand, because the other was still holding Norton on his shoulders, who cringed and tensed at the touch.

Norton wasn't used to being touched at all. Especially by strangers, but not exclusively. Although he'd never really been close to anyone, so he didn't really know. It didn't bother him with Naib, but why? Why was it different with him? Campbell had been pondering this for some time, but he was coming to strange conclusions. Lately, he'd been really at a loss when it came to Subedar. He wondered if he could call him a friend. Norton didn't know what it was like to have friends, because he didn't really have any, and he wasn't interested in relationships enough to think about it. Now he was starting to. But he should really be thinking about Mike's words now, because he was babbling something to him.

"Do you understand?" he asked, but Norton didn't understand a word, because he wasn't listening at all. "You have to try new things." So Miike will probably repeat everything, which is even cool. "Crazy and unusual," he continued. "The best area to move in as an artist is, of course, the sphere of feelings," he concluded.

Norton looked at him. No, he really wasn't cut out for this.

Margie looked at Norton and smiled pleasantly, still smoking. In fact, she looked a bit out of touch. Joker glanced at Mike and Norton from time to time, as they chatted, but he focused more on the brunette. Violetta had completely disappeared, and Campbell didn't even know when.

"Actually, Norton, what's your social life like? You know, do you have someone?" Mike asked suddenly, and Norton frowned. What was it with all of them asking about these relationships? Norton had a girlfriend, but why did everyone, including their moms, care if Campbell was actually with someone? It was that stupid propaganda spread by society, where a person has to have an ass, otherwise they're considered a loser. Norton wasn't a loser, of course, but even if he was, what difference would it make?

Norton shrugged. He didn't know why. Maybe he was tired of all this talk about relationships.

"You should try it with someone." Mike's eyes lit up. "Even experiment," he added. "Do you like girls?"

Norton stared at Mike with a surprised expression. What was he supposed to say? He liked girls. So he just nodded.

“And the boys?” Mike asked.

Norton suddenly choked on his saliva at all this and began coughing. Norton wasn't gay. He wasn't, was he? If he'd never kissed a guy, then of course he wasn't. But he just shrugged.

“Don't you know?” Margaretha asked, interested, and moved closer to them.

Norton looked at her and her expectant gaze. He wondered why she was so concerned. He took a breath.

"I've never been with a guy," Norton replied, nodding. "That's why I don't think so."

Margaretha frowned.

“You should try it!” Mike said enthusiastically, and Joker looked at them somehow ominously and said nothing.

Suddenly, things got very strange, a bit like a circus. So Norton took a good drag on the weed to recapture some of that American cool.

"You know," Mike hugged him again as Norton sat with his pipe, smoking it as if it were just a chimney. "I think every artist should try things like that. It's all art," he said poetically.

Margaretha sat down next to Norton, leaving Joker alone, who watched them and looked suddenly so sad. Norton tried to hand him his pipe, but Joker didn't even look at him.

"I'm wondering..." Margie began. "You know, about all this," she added.

Mike smiled at her.

"Margie, you should try and dump that clown," he said, staring at the Joker, who was no longer looking at them and suddenly focused on the floor. "Women are definitely better than men," he added.

"You say that like you're not gay," Margie said, nodding her head disapprovingly.

Norton suddenly realized that it all actually made sense. It meant that Mike preferred men. Not that Norton was particularly allergic to stereotypes, but sometimes you just couldn't ignore certain facts. So he nodded.

Mike laughed.

“If you need help…” Mike started, but didn't finish, because Joker suddenly got up from the couch, looked at them all with his eyes and simply left without a word.

Norton watched him go, then glanced at the confused actors. Margie bit her lip and suddenly looked worried, but she didn't move, and Mike immediately ran after the Joker.

The black-haired man was now sitting alone with Margie and it was starting to get a little uncomfortable, but she broke the silence.

"Sometimes I think," she began, leaning back on the couch. "Maybe I could have a girlfriend after all..." She began biting her nails. Norton had the same habit. "I like them," she said. "But I don't know if it's just because they're pretty and just I get along better with them, or if there's really something to it." She leaned on her hand, which she now held on her crossed legs.

Norton didn't reply and began to think about it for a moment. Campbell pondered her words. But it was probably normal for him to be attracted to, objectively speaking, a hot guy. That didn't automatically mean he was gay, did it? Naib was objectively attractive, but that was just an observation, wasn't it? Simple deductive reasoning, nothing more. Maybe sometimes he thought about how he had a nice stomach, quite muscular, and strong arms, maybe thighs, a narrow waist, and a nice ass. Surely someone would appreciate that about him, but it was just an observation.

Campbell frowned, because why exactly was he thinking about Subedar now? It made no sense, none at all. Although, actually, maybe it did make sense, since they lived together, so Norton had time to notice a lot of things, including his appearance.

"I'm high," Norton said as he exhaled from his pipe, staring at the wall in front of him, which had some posters on it, but he wasn't even sure what they were about, his mind was occupied. Actually, there was some kind of race going on there, which Norton hated.

Then Norton left.

He started walking towards his house. His head was starting to hurt from thinking about it all. Besides, why did he even care? As a poor man, he shouldn't even be thinking about such things, because there were far more important things to do, like the constant struggle for survival and other such matters.

He kicked a pebble, already a little pissed and frustrated by it all. Apparently, the drug was wearing off, and Norton would have to go back to being the fucked-up loser he is.

He was almost at the dilapidated apartment building where he and Naib lived. That is, where Naib rented some rathole, which he had decorated remarkably nicely. Naib had taste, Norton thought, and remembered how the Subedar, quite naturally, always fished for pearls in rags.

Recently, Norton had been going with him to the church to dig through the offerings for the poor. Usually, there wasn't anything this interesting there, or so Norton thought, and then he saw what Naib found in those mountains of clothes.

He found clothes not only for himself. Actually, there were no more Naib's clothes, or Norton's clothes. There were the communion clothes they wore in rotation. However, Norton had a hard time fitting into Naib's trousers, so perhaps that part of the wardrobe remained solely Subedar's.

Norton smiled at all their strange household habits, and it made him feel truly happy. Like never before. Naib was simply like no one he'd ever felt before.

He looked up to see the setting sun, because he was suddenly in a good mood and wanted to grace it with his gaze, when he noticed a crouched figure crouching near the entrance to the apartment building, leaning against the wall of the building, which was already on its knees begging to be repainted, and smoking a cigarette.

Norton knew perfectly well who it was, but he rubbed his eyes because how could that be possible?

He moved closer and could now see Naib better. There was already a table of smoked cigarettes next to him, and he was starting to light another one. Norton grimaced at this.

In fact, Campbell now had no idea whether he could even call Naib objectively handsome. Not at a time like this, where he was hunched over unpleasantly and the reek of him was palpable. His face was sunken and drained of color, yet he was so handsome, circles under his eyes so large they almost reached his jaw, his hair was dry, and his teeth were yellowed from cigarettes.

No, Norton couldn't say Naib was objectively handsome. Certainly not lately. Campbell didn't doubt that maybe someday he could actually be considered incredibly handsome, but not now.

“What are you doing here?” Norton asked, approaching Naib, who was looking at the sky from below and taking a drag on his cigarette.

"I live there?" he replied, lowering his gaze from Norton, no longer interested. "I came back early," he added.

Norton nodded.

"Actually," Naib continued, still smoking that damn cigarette, as if he couldn't string a sentence together without inhaling that disgusting human invention, "I quit." He looked at Norton expectantly at this point.

Norton was a bit taken aback, but he smiled in spite of himself.

"Oh my god, you're finally free from this fucking slavery. I didn't think I would live to see this moment, honestly." Norton knelt next to Naib now, feeling a bit moved. Naib deserved not to work like a slave. He really did. Norton even wanted to hug him a little, but the smell of cigarettes effectively stopped him.

Naib smiled, but somehow bitterly. Norton patted him on the back, the way Naib always patted him when he was choking on something.

“Now we're both unemployed” Norton sat down next to him and, as he said these words, he suddenly became a little scared.

If he didn't work and Naib didn't work, would they both soon end up on the streets? What would become of them? Norton swallowed. His time of freedom would end sooner than he had anticipated.

“I'm going back to dealing” said Naib suddenly and took a drag from the very tip of his cigarette, which he immediately crushed when he stood up.

Norton also stood up and grabbed Naib's arm. Naib looked at his hand in surprise.

"Is that good?" Campbell asked, as Naib looked depressed.

“I'll make money”, he shrugged.

Norton had a conflicted look on his face because he didn't know whether to be happy or not.

"I'll also work less," Naib smiled faintly at Norton. "It'll be fine," he said, patting him on the shoulder.

Then they went home, and Naib was in a better mood. They watched some movies together and played a card game.

Chapter Text

Naib reappeared in Norton's life and even gained a slightly larger role in this movie called life.

Campbell couldn't help but say he was happy. Being alone most of the time, while once completely unobtrusive, now took a strange toll on Norton.

It was as if Norton had suddenly unlocked some locked door in his mind and now couldn't close it. Suddenly, he didn't like being alone anymore. Or maybe he disliked it even more when Naib was gone.

He felt a bit strange about it, and perhaps he also felt a certain fear of the unknown, for it was, after all, one of his latest aberrations. Norton had a completely different nature than most people.

But it was nice to see Naib in the morning, stretching and making old-timer sounds, his face regaining color, the bags under his eyes disappearing, and his cheeks becoming fuller again.

Norton felt vaguely satisfied with this. Maybe two days had passed, maybe there hadn't been any changes at all, but Campbell was so astute that he noticed even the slightest changes. He was simply observant, and it wasn't like he was paying much attention to Naib.

Now they were sitting at the table in their small kitchen. Norton must have had his legs uncomfortably curled up under him, because the table was small, perfect, perhaps only for Naib. But that didn't bother the dark-haired man at all. He felt good.

Naib devoured... whatever it was. He'd decided to eat all the leftovers in the fridge, which was why this "dish" looked so unappealing. Norton, however, watched and smiled faintly, because Naib always looked as if he'd seen his creator when he ate. He was in true paradise then, even if the food looked like it had been vomited.

“Good?” he asked after Subedar took a really big piece into his mouth and his cheeks became stuffed like a hamster's.

He nodded and started drinking the tea that Norton had brewed that morning, especially for two people.

"You like everything you can eat," Norton said and smiled.

Naib looked at him blankly and shrugged. This brought a tic of irritation to Norton's face.

Subedar had time off, he had secured a better job and could rest, but he seemed so out of sorts that Norton immediately began to lose his good mood, which was rare anyway.

So Norton fell silent and returned to his usual face, his humor visibly spoiled.

“Have you eaten?” Naib asked after a while, looking at Norton and perhaps not as indifferently as before.

"I got up before you," Norton replied. "You slept a long time," he added, trying to smile a little.

"Uh-huh," the shorter one replied simply. "I'm going to the post office today," Naib began again. "Are you coming with me?" He looked at Norton questioningly.

“Okay” he said.

They'd spent the last two days at home, with Naib sleeping or eating almost all the time. Then, sometimes, they'd watch something, and sometimes Norton would just tell Naib about the books he'd managed to read. Today, they'd finally go out, and Norton felt a little excited, for some reason.

They put on their shared clothes and went out into their poverty-smelling apartment building yard, and Naib headed towards the bicycles attached to some flimsy metal fence.

"Are we going to ride a bike?" Norton asked, confused. "We only have one bike."
Naib ignored him and walked over to an old, questionably functional bicycle, seemingly unsecured. But Norton understood why. No one would even want to steal it, oh, the rich.

He brought the bike to Norton and looked at it.

"You'll sit in the back," he said. "Haven't you ever ridden a bike like that with anyone? Or are you just pretending to be an idiot?" He smiled a little sarcastically, but Norton liked that smile; any expression Naib had was precious.

Norton walked over to the machine and began examining its rear, where the rusty trunk was located. He shrugged.

"Okay," he said. "But can you take us there?"

Naib smiled again in that defiant way of his.

"What, you think I can't handle it?" His tone was animated again, and Norton's lips moved upwards at that. He was regaining his good humor.

“We can switch later when you get tired”, he said.

He sat in the back, and the trunk immediately began digging into his bony ass. He grabbed onto Naib's shoulders for support, which made the shorter man flinch slightly. He must have been ticklish in that spot, Campbell thought.

Subedar tried to push off with his foot to get them moving. And they did, but they were wobbling around. Norton gripped Naib tighter.

"Fuck," Naib cursed. "You're heavier than I thought," he said, trying to stabilize the bike.

Norton smiled.

"I've gained weight," he replied proudly, recalling his recent state of poverty.

"I see," Naib muttered.

After that, they rode more steadily, feeling the pleasant breeze in their hair. It was truly warm now, and there were many more sunny days. Norton had always enjoyed this time of year. Tired of the constant downpours he remembered from his childhood in Ireland.

"Why are we going to the post office?" Norton asked, looking at Naib's hair. His ponytail brushed pleasantly across his collarbones. Naib had really nice hair.

"I have some errands to run," Naib replied, still looking at the road. "I have to send money to my mom," he added.

“Cool” he said.

Then there was a moment of silence. Norton was still clinging to Naib just as tightly. Suddenly, he leaned forward a little and rested his chin on the top of Naib's head.

"Campbell, what the fuck are you doing?" Naib said, a little irritated. Norton smiled wider at this and started drilling his chin into Naib's skull.

“Get out” Naib started slaloming to get Norton off his head, but Norton just wrapped his arms around his shoulders and neck to hold on better.

He suddenly felt a strong urge to annoy Naib, tease him a little and see his irritated reactions.

“How old are you, five?” Subedar was still fuming.

Norton just laughed, resting his cheek on Naib's soft hair. Seriously, how the fuck did it get so soft? They used the same shampoo, and Norton had a lot of stubble on his head.

"I'm younger than you, old man," Norton said, still smiling like a child. "Actually, I've been an adult for two years now in America."

Naib made a strange sound of irritation.

"And anyway," Norton began. "We can act like children our whole lives, what difference does it make?" he stated, resting his chin on top of Naib's head again, but no longer pressing it into his skull. "We'll never have children of our own, so we can act however we want. Having children if you're poor is a death sentence," he stated.

"Aren't you planning on having children with your imaginary girlfriend? I thought you already had a wedding date," Naib laughed maliciously.

Norton just smiled at this, but then became thoughtful.

“You know... I think I'll break up with Melly” he finished after a while.

Naib started laughing and his head was shaking.

"You say that like you've actually ever been with her. I'm sure you've never been in a relationship with anyone in your fucking life," he continued, still laughing. "Not one where they knew they were in it," he added.

Norton was a little irritated, but at the same time he was happy to hear Naib laugh.

"Are you talking about yourself?" Norton countered. "You look like a guy who has no clue about anything, and you're older than me. Total disaster."

Naib snorted at this.

“Listen, I've been in more relationships than you and I only need to be in one to fucking defeat you.”

Norton pondered. He was actually joking that Naib wouldn't catch anyone, because maybe he would.

“Oh, Kasanowa was found?” he laughed, but suddenly he was really interested.

Naib didn't answer for a moment, then uttered a “hmmm” and said:

“Four? I think four. So I beat you four times.”

"And why aren't you with anyone right now?" Norton asked, suddenly feeling a little irritated by Naib's answer for some reason.

“Because I don't want to”, replied Naib.

"Because you wouldn't be able to get anyone out," Norton said sarcastically and laughed. Naib laughed too.

Then they drove, teasing each other every now and then along the way. They even almost hit a pole once. But Norton felt exceptionally good at that moment, truly good.

***

Naib and Norton finally arrived at the dingy post office building, which was an insulting yellow color, and the once white doors were now more like the color of bones.

Subedar knew this place well. He visited here relatively often, it was from here that he sent money to Nepal for his mother, and it was here that he spoke to her on the phone for a few minutes every month.

Naib stopped his bike abruptly, immediately regretting it. Norton was thrown against the shorter man, so Naib felt Norton's body against his entire rear, and his heart began to beat faster with shock and... perhaps something else that shouldn't have a name and shouldn't even exist. But maybe it was just a physical reaction, right?

He turned to Norton, who had already detached himself from Naib, and saw Campbell's face turning slightly red as he looked at Subedar, to which the latter gave a short laugh. Perhaps to hide his embarrassment at the situation, which, after all, was nothing special. It wasn't anything at all.

"Sorry," Norton said.

“Okay” replied Naib, but he didn't even look at him.

He scratched his head and cursed silently, but then got up from the bike himself, because Norton had already gotten off.

They went through the dingy door into the building, and Naib went straight to the appropriate window, but there was a short queue, so he leaned against the wall and just waited and watched Norton.

Norton looked around the not-so-special place like a little kid, and Naib smiled at that, because Norton really did seem like he'd landed on Mars, and this was his first day on Earth. Sometimes it made Naib feel a little sad, even though he knew Campbell had a past, probably rich with experiences of all races.

The black-haired man approached Naib and also leaned against the wall painted with oil paint in some shade of yellow and crossed his arms, sending Naib a glance from time to time.

"It's not that long," Naib said, looking at him.

"I'm not saying anything," Norton said, but Subedar knew that waiting wasn't his strong suit, at least not in the queue at the post office.

Then they stood in silence, and Naib lost himself in his thoughts. He didn't want to think about work, about dealing again, but suddenly he couldn't stop. For some reason, it was stressing him out. Dealing itself was simple. Sometimes it was even interesting, when he had to beat someone up because they tried to steal his merchandise, or when he had to go collect payment from someone trying to outsmart him.

Naib wasn't exactly a saint when it came to using violence when he had to. In fact, Naib might have even been a little fond of it, and the perception irritated him to no end, but adrenaline was too addictive, especially when you'd lived that way for so long.

The worst part, however, was returning to everything he'd one day decided to abandon forever, starting a new life, a life on the straight and narrow. It was ironic that he'd once again returned to the same cycle he'd tried to break out of so many times, but what could he do? Maybe Naib was too weak, and this was his only option in life, and always would be? Maybe Naib was just like that.

He was pulled out of his heavy thoughts by Campbell's voice, who nudged him on the shoulder.

"Your turn soon," he said and pointed to a guy sitting at a desk, being served by an elderly lady.

Subedar snapped back to reality and looked at Norton perhaps a little too long, because Norton lightly punched him in the shoulder.

“Why are you looking at me like you've seen a ghost?” he laughed and Naib immediately felt better.

Maybe everything really will be better this time. He's gone and he's not coming back, so this time everything might be okay and nothing will go as far as it did then.

Naib smiled too, then went to the desk and started taking care of his business.

He'd been sending his mother a little less than usual this month, and lately he'd been sending her less at all. He was a little upset with himself about it, but he'd make up for it at his new job and everything would go back to normal, he was trying to save himself in his brain.

He stood up and walked away from the desk, searching for Norton, who had vanished from his sight. He only saw him at the water cooler, which he fought bravely against.

He walked up to him and laughed.

"I couldn't do it either," he said and held out a paper cup to him, into which Norton immediately began pouring water.

"Everything sorted out?" Norton asked, slurping his water extremely loudly.

"Yes, there," Naib replied. "I have to make a call, this might take a while." He began looking around for a suitable position for international calls.

“To Nepal?” Norton asked and raised an eyebrow.

Naib nodded, finally finding the right spot with his eyes, which they then approached.

Then Naib met a woman he quite knew, who smiled at him pleasantly.

“To Nepal?’ she asked, although she knew perfectly well that it was.

“Yes, ma’am,” Naib said politely.

He still remembered learning all those expressions to show respect and avoid looking like a "savage." He'd only learned them here in America, because in England he'd only used a few words, a few sentences. Back then, he'd been considered a savage and an idiot, but in reality, he simply didn't know many words in foreign language. No one had taught him.

Naib went to a small telephone booth inside the building, and a woman began dialing the number provided. He looked at Norton, who was also staring at him, leaning against the wall.

“Hello?” he said in his native language.

“Naib?” he heard a very familiar female voice in the receiver and immediately smiled.

He hadn't spoken to her in a while. He hadn't had any time lately.

"Hi, Mom," he said. "I'm finally calling."

"Oh, that's good, that's good," she said, visibly touched that she could hear her son's voice again. Her ungrateful son. "Tell me, are you okay there? Is it a lot of work?"

"I sent the money," he interrupted the stream of questions. "It's fine... a lot of work lately," he added immediately afterward.

"You work too much," she said in a worried voice. "I told you I didn't need that much money. Think of how good you were, Naib."

Naib closed his eyes, not wanting to talk to her about money.

"It's fine," he assured, looking at Norton, who was still watching him closely. "It's really fine, Mom. I'm changing jobs," he added, smiling because Norton looked so stupid standing there, like a body against the wall, in those too-short pants and his old, old slippers.

“That's good”, the woman replied with visible relief and fell silent for a moment.

Then Naib asked her about life in Nepal, but she didn't have much to say because she wasn't feeling well and hadn't left her house often. Naib, however, always enjoyed listening to her. Whatever she said was pleasant. Her voice was so pleasant.

“Aren't you lonely?” she asked.

“No, Mom. I still live with my roommate”.

“Ah yes, Campbell?” She said Norton's name in such a funny way that Naib laughed.

“Yes, Mom, Campbell” he mimicked her pronunciation.

"It's good that you have a friend, but what about a girlfriend? You still don't have anyone?" the woman asked.

Naib frowned suddenly, but his attention remained focused on Norton, who had moved closer to the plastic, glass-like wall where the phone was.

"No, Mom, I don't need it," Naib said, still watching Norton, who was leaning right next to the booth.

"I thought maybe you had someone. You seem happier," she said. "Is it because of that Campbell?"

Naib thought for a moment. Was he happier?

"He's enough for me, it's already a lot on my plate," he finally said, looking back at Norton, who was clearly listening, his ear pressed to the plastic. Naib smiled involuntarily at Campbell's idiocy.

The woman said nothing for a moment, but then added:

"The most important thing is not to be lonely. It's good that you have a friend, Naib." He could see her smile in that tone of voice.

His mother had separated from Naib when he was very young. He was essentially just a brat who knew nothing about life. That's why she always treated him the same way she did then, with the same motherly tenderness bestowed upon children. She would always see him as an innocent, sometimes noughty child. But Naib was happy about that, that he would always be like that in her mind.

“And how is he?” she asked suddenly.

Naib looked at Norton, who was really trying to understand what they were saying.

"I think he is good," he replied. "Besides, let him tell you, he's with me." He smiled into the receiver, then looked at Norton, who was staring at him intently.

He opened the door of the plastic booth and pulled him in, grabbing him by the hand.

"What's wrong?" Norton asked, confused, but Naib just laughed.

“My mother wants to talk to you, tell her "good morning" he said the last words in Nepali.

Norton picked up the phone and tried to repeat what Naib had told him, but it came out so badly that Naib started laughing.

"You see, Mom," he said, still giggling, "he was trying to say good morning to you." Then he looked at Norton again and whispered, "She's asking how you are."

Norton moved closer to the receiver and now they could listen to the woman's voice together.

"I'm fine," Norton said into the phone, and Naib immediately translated it into Nepali for the woman.

"It's okay," Naib said. "That's what he said."

"Tell him to take care of you," the woman ordered. "Go ahead and translate."

Naib smiled, he hadn't smiled like that in a long time.

“She says you have to take care of me, Norton" he looked at the black-haired man, who was still a bit confused, but nodded.

“I'll be there, ma'am," he said to the receiver.

“He says he will, mom,” Naib translated.

"Good, good," the woman began to repeat. "You both have to take care of yourselves."

Naib glanced at the clock on the wall, suddenly remembering that he couldn't keep talking forever, even if he wanted to, because he would soon run out of time.

"Time is running out," he said with some sadness.

He really wanted to hug her now. They say that with time, you miss someone less. But in this case, Naib knew time wouldn't change anything. Subedar still missed her just as much. He'd learned to live with it, but the feeling hadn't diminished.

"Oh, then," the woman began to speak quickly. "I love you, Naib," she added in her gentle voice.

"I love you too, Mom," Naib said with sadness in his voice. "Take care, and I'll call you soon, I promise," he added.

There were only a few seconds left in the conversation when he looked at the moving hand on the clock that was responsible for counting the seconds.

“You too, Naib, take care of yourself and Campbell” Subedar suddenly smiled at the recollection of Norton, he suddenly felt a bit emotional, but talking to his mother always had this effect on him.

“I will be there," he said, and immediately after that the conversation ended.

Norton looked at Naib, who held the receiver in his hands for a moment longer and then put it back in its place.

“Is it over yet?” Norton asked, leaving the booth with Naib.

"Yeah," Subedar replied. "Calls abroad are expensive," he added.

“Are we going back?” Norton asked, and Naib nodded.

And then they got back on the bike. This time, Norton volunteered to be the driver, so Naib gave up and settled himself on the uncomfortable rear rack, clinging to Norton's shoulders. He suddenly found this incredibly comfortable. He even rested his cheek against Norton's back during the ride.

They were friends, Naib thought. That was enough, enough that they were friends. He smiled at the thought, but it was a strange smile, perhaps even a little sad. And yet, Naib was happy that his friend was Norton, the homeless man.

Chapter Text

Naib had a worn-out backpack with a broken zipper on one of the compartments, but the large one still worked. Norton wondered what he had in there.

Subedar led them deeper into their housing estate and finally stopped in front of the wall of one of the buildings and began to stare at it.

Norton decided to go out with Subedar today. They'd been hanging out together a lot lately, as Naib seemed in no hurry to start his new job.

“What are we going to do?” Norton asked, a little confused.

Naib looked at him and took a spray out of his bag.

“I'll paint," he replied and turned back to the wall.

Norton was suddenly a little excited, because he'd never seen Naib create... anything... In fact, Naib had always struck Norton as someone without a hobby. Before, he'd been a bit robotic, like a man who simply lived, but Campbell suspected it was because of his constant work. He'd been like that himself, and perhaps still was a little bit.

It was truly unfair that poor people, whose sole purpose was to survive through constant work, many of whose hidden talents they were unable to discover, would never experience even a semblance of what could have been their entire lives. If only they had been richer or simply not so poor and disadvantaged. So many of them could have become outstanding artists.

Norton often thought about this injustice and was perhaps a little bitter because he himself dreamed of a life of art, and yet he was just Campbell, the son of a miner, an illegal immigrant in the States, without a home.

“What will you paint?” he asked, to escape from these eternal thoughts that tormented him every day.

Naib pulled a few spray bottles from his backpack. He shrugged at Norton's words.

“I don't know yet, I'll see” then he started looking at the wall for a while, and then he started scribbling something on it.

Norton sat cross-legged on the sidewalk, which was so overgrown with grass that it was almost like sitting in a meadow. He stared at Naib, who was skillfully applying spray from the bottle.

He looked really different at that moment. While he might have been dressed in some rags—a lot of it Norton's because he didn't want to get his better clothes dirty—he looked really cool to the black-haired man.

The picture on the wall began to resemble something. Norton couldn't quite tell what it was yet, but he guessed it was probably a duck?

He tilted his head to get a better look. It was definitely a duck.

“:t's a duck”, he said intelligently.

Naib looked at him with pity and frowned.

“Impossible, you know what ducks look like” and then he turned around and continued scribbling.

Norton sat and watched, the sun beating down on his neck. It was particularly strong today. Naib was still painting, and Campbell got a little tired of staring at him, because he didn't say much either, only clearing his throat in response to everything, so Norton gave up on the conversation.

He looked at one of the streets between the blocks, because he heard one of the worst noises in the world, children's laughter.

A group of children were approaching them, and upon spotting them from a distance, they began running and shouting. Norton stood up, alarmed.

"Naib," shouted a boy who had taken the lead and was soon next to Norton, to whom he gave a look that said: "Ugh, who is that?"

Naib looked back.

“Yo” he said and went back to painting.

Then the rest of the children came running—a girl and another boy. The girl seemed strangely familiar to Norton. She stopped in front of him.

“Brother Norton?” she pointed at him.

Suddenly, Campbell remembered. She was the youngest sister of that spawn of Satan, Orpheus. She had grown a bit, but she was still a dwarf.

“Orpheus's sister” now they looked at each other a bit defiantly.

"What are you painting?" one of the boys asked, approaching Naib. "Super cool," he looked at several animals he had already drawn. Naib had a thing for these animals.

“Memory,” the girl said and crossed her arms.

“Oh yeah, something like that” Norton waved his hand at her and she stuck out her tongue at him.

Then she also approached Naib and said louder on purpose so that it would definitely reach Norton's ears:

“Who is this loser?” She ​​pointed at him with her finger.

Norton felt a strange irritation and walked over to them.

Naib looked at Norton's angry face and smiled, but it wasn't his nice smile, but his malicious one.

"It's a parasite," he said, still looking at Norton for a moment and then turned away.

"Hey," Norton said, grabbing Naib's arm. Naib turned to him, but he wasn't angry. "Don't talk nonsense to the kids. I'm Naib's friend."

"You're not cool," one of the boys said.

"Right, Robbie?" Memory agreed. "Naib, on the other hand, is super cool."

Norton suddenly got a little worked up, because what was that? Some kids were going to insult him. Not on Norton's watch.

He folded his arms and scanned them all appraisingly, but said nothing. He simply sat cross-legged on the sidewalk again and watched the children marvel at this "super extra cool Naib."

After a moment, however, one of the boys approached Norton.

“Do you have a cigarette?” said the twelve-year-old as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

In the world of backyard depravity in some backwater in the States, maybe this was actually the most normal thing in the world.

"Didn't your parents teach you that smoking kills?" Norton looked at him lazily. "Besides, even if I had it for free, it's nothing," he added casually.

“I'll pay”, the boy said with some pride.

Norton's eyes lit up and suddenly this conversation became a little interesting to him.

“How much?” he decided to keep a calm face and tone of voice, he even said it a bit casually.

"A 25 cents apiece," Robbie said, a little irritated. "Do you have it or not?"

Damn, these weren't just any kids. These were maybe even slightly wealthier kids.

"I'll sell you 10 for $2.5," Norton said, looking at him sharply.

“Agreed” said the boy, and you could see the excitement in his eyes.

Norton reached into the pocket of Naib's sweatshirt, which was lying next to his backpack, and pulled out his new, barely opened pack, then counted out ten cigarettes.

“And for the whole thing?” asked the excited boy.

Norton looked at him out of the corner of his eye, still feigning boredom and indifference.

“For all five” there were 18 cigarettes inside, but Norton decided to try.

“Okay” the boy started searching in his pockets.

Norton was still looking at him and studying him intently.

The boy pulled a five-dollar bill from his pocket and held it out to Norton. Norton immediately grabbed it and tossed him a box of Russian cigarettes, no longer Naib’s.

"Robbie?" Memory approached them and gave Norton a chilling look. "What are you doing?"

Robbie quickly pocketed his cigarettes and tried to act normal. He spoke in a voice meant to imitate a relaxed adult, and Norton suddenly felt like laughing out loud.

"Business," he replied, and Memory rolled her eyes.

Then she looked at Norton again.

"Alice said you were homeless," she said bluntly, and Norton's jaw dropped a little. "But Naib says you live with him. Earlier, Alice said you were staying at Melly's for a few nights." She glared at Campbell. "So are you homeless or not?"

Norton scratched his nose, because this little one might have confused him a bit.

"I'm not," he replied. "I was staying at Naib's for a while," he added nonchalantly.

“I thought you were cool", said Memory and sighed regretfully.

"Homeless people aren't cool," Norton said, because what kind of logic was that?

"They are," Memory said, and sat down next to Norton. Robbie had already disappeared. "Do you still remember Orfie?" she looked at him with that childish, innocent look of hers.

"I can't forget him, even if I tried, and I did," Norton said, remembering the idiot's face and immediately feeling a little disgusted, because he could see his fucking smile in his mind's eye.

"He's in France now," she said proudly. "He's studying in Paris."

Norton suddenly felt like throwing up, hearing that this nobleman was traveling the world and wasting money, which he already had too much of, so what difference did it make? Oh, he'd go to France because he suddenly felt like it, and next week he'd go to Germany and Belgium, whatever.

“And what,” Norton said dryly.

"He asked about you when he called," Memory continued. "I told him you were homeless, and he laughed." She looked at Norton, who choked on his saliva. "But you're not cool," she finished with obvious sadness.

Norton sighed, no longer knowing what to say. Memory was already lost... or maybe she was just a child.

“How did you meet Brother Naib?” she asked after a while, looking at Norton with her curious eyes.

“Through friends,” he said.

He actually knew Naib through Eli and Emma, who had simply welcomed him like a stray cat into their social circle, which Norton had never asked for, but somehow had stuck with him.

That was the first time he'd seen Subedar, who hadn't interested him in the slightest at the time. He was just another common man in his life, forgotten by the end of the day. They hadn't even spoken much. In fact, Norton had always cut off any conversation with him.

Sometimes, though, he'd watch him from afar, laughing with Eli or wolfing down those enormous portions of food, and Norton always wondered how he was able to do it. But he was one of the many people Norton simply watched, out of boredom.

A lot changed, however, when Norton first attacked him at KFC. He wasn't in his right mind back then, he knew it. That's why he could have done a lot of stupid things. One of them was talking to a guy he barely knew. But it was one of the best stupid things he'd ever done.

“I met him when he chased away that drunk who was hitting us with a slipper” Memory began.

“What?” Norton only registered something with a slipper.

Memory immediately perked up.

"There was this bum here once," she began enthusiastically. "Before, he only beat Robbie, but then he started beating all of us. He was a real pain in the ass, and I was a little afraid of him," she lowered her voice. "And then Brother Naib chased him away one day and saved us. We've welcomed him into our group ever since," she said happily.

Norton thought Naib was truly some kind of hero to the downtrodden. He could have used one as a kid, when he'd been scolded at every opportunity.

"You know," Memory began again. "Ever since he moved here, this has been our territory," she said proudly.

“How long has he been living here?” Norton asked.

Memory became thoughtful.

“Not long ago. He lived somewhere else before, I know because I asked.”

Norton suddenly remembered that he had indeed heard something like that. It was also about a roommate he'd had a falling out with. Campbell was becoming a bit curious about the matter. Who was this roommate?

Memory moved closer to Norton and made a mysterious face.

"Don't tell anyone," she said quietly. "But Orfie once told me that Naib knew the murderer," she interrupted.

“What?’ Norton said a little too loudly, because the girl shushed him.

"That's what he told me," she finished. "He said Naib's brother was dangerous, but then it turned out Naib was cool."

"Orpheus likes to scare children," Norton commented.

Orpheus is a storyteller like no other, he thought. A gossiper who stirs up trouble among everyone because he's read too many crime stories.

"Don't tell Naib I told you," she added, still in a hushed, conspiratorial voice. "I asked him once and he got angry."

Norton wasn't surprised, he would also be pissed if someone made up such fairy tales about him.

"I won't tell," Norton assured.

Memory nodded, and soon Robbie and the other boy, who had spray paint all over his hands, came over to them.

Norton glanced at Naib, who was wiping his also-dirty hands on one of Campbell's moth-eaten shirts. The black-haired man stood up and walked over to him.

“Cool” commented on his graphites.

Naib stretched so much that every vertebra in his spine cracked.

"Brother Naib!" Memory shouted. "We have to scout the store," she said.

Naib nodded and started waving at them.

"You really like these kids, don't you?" Norton smiled and helped him collect the spray cans.

"They stuck," Naib said indifferently.

Norton laughed.

Chapter Text

Naib wasn't in a hurry to return to the life of a worker. Although he wasn't sure if being a dealer could be considered work, it was still a job. Perhaps not the kind of work that had to be done for the country's economic survival. It wasn't entirely necessary, either, but it was in demand. Subedar didn't particularly care... or perhaps he'd developed a way to avoid thinking about the moral aspects of the profession.

The days passed lazily and incredibly slowly. Sometimes Naib stressed that he was wasting too much time, but Norton was a good distraction, and he apparently lived in his mind completely rent-free, just like in his house.

They spent entire days together. Norton had perked up and he had also become somewhat normal. He even stopped talking about his constant suffering from poverty and complained significantly less in general. He made tea for himself and Naib every day, cleaned up after himself, and even gave Subedar the bathroom occasionally so he could bathe first. This was unusual and surprised the brown-haired man.

They didn't do much. They mostly spent the mornings at home, talking about Naib coming home from his morning run. He needed to get back into his routine, which he'd neglected due to work, and he needed the training for his job as a professional drug dealer.

They'd watch movies or play Chinese checkers or solitaire. Usually, they'd go out somewhere afterward, sometimes to KFC or to see Ganji and William. But it was really fun, and Subedar didn't mind Norton's constant presence at all... or hardly at all, because there were moments when he felt frustrated and couldn't shake it.

Naib simply hadn't been with anyone in a long time, not even his own hand. It drove him crazy. Norton was always hanging around the house, and maybe it wasn't anything special that everyone had to deal with such matters, but Naib was incredibly embarrassed by the thought of telling Campbell, "Hey, go for a walk, I have to jerk off." So he remained silent as a grave, only occasionally trying to negotiate something in the bathroom, but Norton always rushed him because the hot water, which Naib had recently invented, was scarce.

This is how Naib had to endure the torments of becoming extremely unbearable in his thoughts.

Norton wasn't ugly. Subedar would never have called him that. Maybe he was even a bit of his type, if he had any type. In any case, Campbell was the attractive man in his household, the one with whom he spent every second of his life. Therefore, it was obvious and natural that the black-haired man would be the trigger. Naib was gay, after all.

Sometimes, when they sat on the couch and Norton placed his stinking feets on Naib's lap, Subedar felt like crucifying himself. Or the times when Norton would unceremoniously walk around the house in his underwear, even though Naib had repeatedly told him to put something on. Norton would always just shrug, and Naib would clutch his head and want to bang it against the wall to rid his mind of the filth, because he was clearly facing an eternity in the monastery.

Naib generally felt that he had become too accustomed to Campbell's presence in his life and had allowed him to get even more into his head.

Subedar suspected what all this might mean, yet he refused to allow anything to develop in that direction between them. It had to be just sexual frustration and nothing more.

Norton was a friend, and it would be good to keep it that way. Friendship always lasts longer and is easier than... that other kind of relationship, which Naib wasn't particularly good at, considering his history of failure in that regard.

So Naib was a little anxious to get lost in the whirlwind of work again and get involved in something unrelated to Norton that could occupy his thoughts.

Then came the day they sat on the couch, watching again some cheap romance, of which Norton had recently become a fan because he loved arguing with the protagonists and commenting on their poor choices and slow thinking when everything should be clear. Sometimes Naib felt a bit like that protagonist, so he would act as their advocate and then argue with Norton about some nonexistent love couple.

"You know," Norton began one day, while watching. "I've been thinking a lot lately." He hesitated and looked at Naib with a strange, extremely confused look.

Subedar was eating some crackers at the time, and he looked at Campbell with his mouth full, and suddenly a cold sweat broke out on him when he saw his face and that strange hesitation. His brain had turned to mush again, the crackers refusing to go down his throat. Stupid Norton was spoiling his eating ceremonies.

"I think I might be a little gay," he finally said.

And Naib choked on those damn crackers, which flew up his nose. He fought for his life, but then he felt Norton slap him on the back, incredibly hard. He coughed a moment longer and spat the shiny remains into his hand. Norton handed him that dish towel they had in the kitchen, one that had outlasted many.

“Jesus, you idiot,” Norton finally said, scratching the back of his neck.

He looked extremely embarrassed by everything that had happened and Naib was immediately a bit upset at himself, but Subedar decided to pull himself together.

"So what," he said in his most indifferent voice, but he wasn't that indifferent in his thoughts, because what was that supposed to mean?

"Nothing," Norton replied after a moment and sat down on the couch. "I was just talking to Margaretha about it," he began to say. "My theory is that everyone is a little gay, because everyone is a person. Some people are just mentally challenged."

"I don't think it works like that," Naib interjected, frowned at Norton, still holding the cloth with the remains of crackers in his hands.

Norton shrugged and looked back at Naib, who remained silent. They stared at each other in a very uncomfortable silence that practically screamed for them to stop bothering it. Campbell suddenly snapped out of it and began to speak:

"God, don't think I like you," he said hastily, his voice rising. "I was just thinking about it, but it has nothing to do with you, by the way," he gestured fiercely.

Naib just nodded, the cloth still in his hands.

"Okay, that's good," Naib said, but his mind was already on the verge of collapse.

***

Today was the day Naib decided to meet with Marta. He simply wanted to see her and talk. But he also had to finally tell her he wanted to return to their gangster life. This was Naib's calling, his destiny, he guessed.

Norton was lying lazily on the couch, reading a book. Naib didn't want to ask what it was, because the last time he'd asked, the dark-haired man had started telling him about some medieval English love poetry and mystical philosophy, along with all the symbols and allegories it contained. Naib hadn't asked him since.

“What are you doing?” he looked at Subedar from over his book as he was bustling around in the closet, rummaging through his clothes.

It was a brothel out of this world, as neither Naib nor Norton enjoys cleaning up filth. Therefore, you could find anything here, except what you needed.

“Get your act together in this closet, Campbell, or I'll go crazy” he got irritated by the mountains of rags that started falling from one of the shelves and he found himself in an avalanche of clothes.

"Okay," Norton said from the couch, not interested at all.

Naib knew that "okey" meant shit and would have made him even more angry, but he didn't have time because his clothes were fighting him and he still had to get dressed.

He dug around for a while longer and finally pulled out some decent clothes, so he closed the door behind the clothes that kept falling out and decided that if Norton ever opened it, it would be his problem... But would Norton ever open it? The guy wore the same thing every day.

He dressed and tied up his hair, for nothing irritated him more than the feeling of hair on his face, and went back into the living room, where Campbell was in his usual place, lost in his romantic poetry, for he had clearly completed his journey around the world and now had to play Werther.

"I'm going to the bar, I'll be back late," said Naib.

Norton shifted on the couch and looked at him. Naib ignored him and began putting on his shoes.

"Are you going on a date?" Norton asked after a moment.

Naib turned to him and saw him staring at him. He frowned in confusion.

“What?” he said.

Where did this idiot keep coming up with such strange ideas? Had romantic novels and cheap movies completely fried his brain?

"You're dressed nicely," he replied, and there was a strange expression on his face that pissed Naib off a bit for some reason.

Naib suddenly thought that maybe he could actually use a date, because Norton was already absurd, and even though Subedar knew what he was saying meant nothing, his brain liked to leave him guessing, saying "what if?". Bullshit if, no if, no if, and even if there is, Naib would change reality so that if would remove you from this fucking life.

“What do you care?” he said, throwing on one of his actually better jackets.

"I don't care," Norton said almost immediately. "It's just not your style," he added, and went back to reading the fucking book.

Naib sighed, because Norton was being so idiotic. Subedar wasn't even dressed in anything special, he simply didn't wear his everyday rags, but he dressed for civilization, but Norton loved to make up a whole story about everything.

"I'm just going to take care of some business," he said, rubbing between his eyebrows, where a frown was starting to form again.

“Okay,” Norton said, but he sounded like an offended child.

Naib wanted to say something else to him, but refrained, afraid of the black-haired man's answer.

Besides, he was already quite wasted by Norton, and his head began to hurt again, and at the same time he felt a faint excitement, which only scared him and made his headache worse.

Naib should definitely go on a date with someone.

***

Today was the day Naib decided to meet with Marta. He simply wanted to see her and talk. But he also had to finally tell her he wanted to return to their gangster life. This was Naib's calling, his destiny, he guessed.

Norton was lying lazily on the couch, reading a book. Naib didn't want to ask what it was, because the last time he'd asked, the dark-haired man had started telling him about some medieval English love poetry and mystical philosophy, along with all the symbols and allegories it contained. Naib hadn't asked him since.

“What are you doing?” he looked at Subedar from over his book as he was bustling around in the closet, rummaging through his clothes.

It was a brothel out of this world, as neither Naib nor Norton enjoys cleaning up filth. Therefore, you could find anything here, except what you needed.

“Get your act together in this closet, Campbell, or I'll go crazy” he got irritated by the mountains of rags that started falling from one of the shelves and he found himself in an avalanche of clothes.

"Okay," Norton said from the couch, not interested at all.

Naib knew that "okey" meant shit and would have made him even more angry, but he didn't have time because his clothes were fighting him and he still had to get dressed.

He dug around for a while longer and finally pulled out some decent clothes, so he closed the door behind the clothes that kept falling out and decided that if Norton ever opened it, it would be his problem... But would Norton ever open it? The guy wore the same thing every day.

He dressed and tied up his hair, for nothing irritated him more than the feeling of hair on his face, and went back into the living room, where Campbell was in his usual place, lost in his romantic poetry, for he had clearly completed his journey around the world and now had to play Werther.

"I'm going to the bar, I'll be back late," said Naib.

Norton shifted on the couch and looked at him. Naib ignored him and began putting on his shoes.

"Are you going on a date?" Norton asked after a moment.

Naib turned to him and saw him staring at him. He frowned in confusion.

“What?” he said.

Where did this idiot keep coming up with such strange ideas? Had romantic novels and cheap movies completely fried his brain?

"You're dressed nicely," he replied, and there was a strange expression on his face that pissed Naib off a bit for some reason.

Naib suddenly thought that maybe he could actually use a date, because Norton was already absurd, and even though Subedar knew what he was saying meant nothing, his brain liked to leave him guessing, saying "what if?". Bullshit if, no if, no if, and even if there is, Naib would change reality so that if would remove you from this fucking life.

“What do you care?” he said, throwing on one of his actually better jackets.

"I don't care," Norton said almost immediately. "It's just not your style," he added, and went back to reading the fucking book.

Naib sighed, because Norton was being so idiotic. Subedar wasn't even dressed in anything special, he simply didn't wear his everyday rags, but he dressed for civilization, but Norton loved to make up a whole story about everything.

"I'm just going to take care of some business," he said, rubbing between his eyebrows, where a frown was starting to form again.

“Okay,” Norton said, but he sounded like an offended child.

Naib wanted to say something else to him, but refrained, afraid of the black-haired man's answer.

Besides, he was already quite wasted by Norton, and his head began to hurt again, and at the same time he felt a faint excitement, which only scared him and made his headache worse.

Naib should definitely go on a date with someone.

***

He walked into a bar where almost no one was. But it was Monday, 8 p.m., so it wasn't surprising. Just a few regulars, warriors who came here every day to drink, only to wake up hungover and go to work. True martyrs in the name of alcohol.

He approached the counter, where a woman he knew well stood. She turned to him and smiled, crossing her arms.

"And who do we have here?" she said, narrowing her eyes. "I haven't seen you here in a while, Naib."

The brown-haired man sat on the high seat.

"Hi Demi," he said to her, smiling slightly as well. "It's been a while."

Martha was clearly still gone, because he looked around the place, but apart from the drunk people lying on the tables, there was no one else there.

"A few months," Demi said. "Were you here recently with that roommate... Carl?" She started cleaning a mug.

“Yeah,” Naib replied, remembering his former roommate, or at least as much as he could.

“What was his name? And...? Adam?” she looked at Naib questioningly.

Subedar began to think, what was his name, exactly? He couldn't remember, or maybe he never knew, since they didn't talk much. You could say, not at all. He was a bit of a ghost roommate, but he was useful sometimes, for a while. Naib grimaced a little at these embarrassing memories.

“I guess so”, he replied.

Demi laughed.

“I thought you were close, you looked like that.”

Naib shrugged.

“Are you drinking anything?’ she asked.

Naib hadn't planned on drinking anything today, as it was more of a business meeting. But was it? Actually, Naib had just come with Martha today to meet and chat, and to tell her he was actually looking for a job with her. Suddenly, he also had a huge craving for a drink.

“Something as cheap as possible,” he said, and Demi nodded with a smile.

"You live alone now, right?" she continued, pouring some kind of drink, similar to beer.

"I have a new roommate," he said, taking the mug offered to him and taking a drag of the beer, saying that it was alright.

"Really?" Demi asked, surprised. "I heard you have your own apartment now. It's cheaper with someone else, right?"

Naib chuckled to himself at that statement, for there was nothing cheaper about it if one person was the other's dependent.

"Yeah," he replied, and drank some more. "And what about you?"

Demi shrugged.

"The same as always," she replied. "The same as always for now, but Jose is coming soon," she smiled.

"How long has he gone?" Naib asked, remembering one of his friends.

“About a year,” Demi replied, her smile fading a little.

Naib noticed this and suddenly felt a little bad to talk about it. He knew Demi was a bit upset about his departure.

“It's good that he's coming back,” he said.

Demi nodded and asked:

"Are you waiting for someone? Some kind of date?" She smiled in that way she gets when she's trying to inspect someone. She used to do this often, and Naib knew this woman knew more than you'd ever guess.

"Martha," Naib replied, probably disappointing her a bit. What was it with all these dates?

“Business?” She looked sharply at Subedar.

Demi was part of it all, too, in a way. Her family, however, was vaguely involved.

Naib nodded and finished his beer.

Soon after, Martha finally appeared, waving to Naib. She walked over and sat down heavily, clearly exhausted. She immediately collapsed onto the counter and sighed.

Naib patted her on the shoulder.

"What's up?" he asked, and was a little worried that he was wasting her time, because she looked really tired after all.

"I've been busy lately," she said, and after a moment she stood up and smiled at Naib. "Orange juice for me," she said to Demi, and then looked back at Subedar. "But I always have time for old friends." She placed her hand on his shoulder.

"We haven't seen each other for a while," Naib began. "Again," he took a sip of beer.

Demi handed Martha some juice, and they decided to move away from the bar to a more secluded spot. They sat down on a couch in the corner. Martha sprawled out like a starfish and sighed.

"It's a massacre," she began. "It's really been a massacre lately, Naib."

He nodded at her.

“In business?” he asked more quietly.

"It's gotten a bit worse," she said, leaning back and leaning her head back.

Something happened, Naib thought, but he was a little afraid to ask what exactly, he swallowed, looked around, but no one was looking at them, and said:

“What happened?”

Martha leaned towards him.

“You know,” she began, “There are some problems and I have to solve them, and I'm only left with idiots since you've been gone.”

“Who left?” he asked immediately.

Martha sighed.

"Kevin, Jose, you... really, all I have left is Patty and Luca, and you know how it is with Luca." She slapped her hands on her knees in a gesture of helplessness. "And there are problems." She looked back at Naib.

Naib nodded.

"So?" He moved closer to her so they could whisper better. There were ears everywhere, and these were errands, even a bit gangster-like.

“New ones have appeared”, said Martha.

“Dealers?” Naib asked.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I try to suppress them right away, but the only help I have is this fucking idiot, a total mobster."

Naib wondered who Martha was talking about.

"Our new guy," she continued. "He's loyal as a dog, that's for sure, but he's really an idiot out of this world, Naib, and I don't know what to do anymore. He recently set someone's car on fire, then came to put it out and maybe became some kind of hero, you know, maybe he did, he had a great time, but I told him to fucking take the stuff from that car, and it all went up in smoke. They had a party there, probably a nice one afterward," she concluded and sighed, cursing something else under her breath.

“So you need some hands to work?” Naib asked, and Martha immediately looked at him in surprise, to which he smiled slightly.

Let him get it over with. Actually, now. Maybe he wasn't so stressed about it anymore, because Martha talked about it so simply, as if it were just something ordinary. Maybe it wasn't anything special at all, and only Naib remembers it that way... because of what happened then. What he had to do, which was far from simply selling marijuana at the market. But Martha was right; maybe he's already in prison, maybe he's even buried a hundred meters underground somewhere, or maybe he's no longer even in the States.

“Are you coming back?” Martha threw herself at him and looked him straight in the eyes, with that surprised look she always had.

Naib nodded and took another sip of his beer. Yes, alcohol seemed necessary at this moment.

“If you have room”, he said, although he knew very well that Marta was only waiting for his return.

She punched him in the arm.

“You idiot”, she said and kept smiling.

Then Naib ordered a few more beers and Marta ordered a few orange juices and she told him about what had changed in their drug world.

A lot of the so-called old guard had left. Kevin and Jose had moved to another state, which Naib knew about. This was after one rather unsuccessful operation where they simply had to run as far away as possible to protect their asses. Jose will be back soon, so he guess things have fallen apart a bit.

Naib passed away a moment before them, but for a completely different reason.

“And how are you, Naib?” Martha finally asked, finishing what was probably her fourth orange juice.

Naib was already finishing his fifth glass of beer, but he had a remarkably good head when it came to beer. Spirits were a different story.

"Fine," he replied. "Same as always, the old fashioned way."

"And this wannabe of yours, have you had sex with him yet?" Martha suddenly blurted out, and Naib gasped a little, making her laugh. "It doesn't look like it," she added, still laughing.

“And it won't look like Martha”, said Naib and drank the whole mug for the bugle call.

Martha kept staring at him with the look of that one aunt at the table who looks at you as if she knows something you don't even know yourself.

"I don't understand," she leaned back, setting her juice down on the table. "You take some homeless guy off the street and start living with him," she said, and Naib tried to interrupt, but she silenced him with a gesture. "But listen. Some random, random guy, and you're telling me you don't even want to fuck him?" She looked at him with indignation and surprise on her face.

“He's a friend”, Naib defended himself.

She started laughing.

"I don't recognize you, Naib, you're crazy," she began, patting his shoulder, choking on laughter. "You really are an idiot, Naib. So you let a guy stay at your place, for free, I emphasize," she emphasized. "Because you decided he'd be your friend? Really?" She burst out laughing, and Naib felt a bit foolish. He suddenly wanted to argue with her, but he didn't even know what to say. "I really don't recognize you. What loneliness does to people," she concluded.

"Listen," Naib decided to defend himself, though he didn't see much chance of success. Maybe if he bought a few more beers, he'd see some chance. "In the beginning," he emphasized these words emphatically. "Maybe I had some evil intentions—"

"Ha, I knew he was your type!" Martha clapped her hands. "So what happened next, huh?"

Naib rubbed the crease between his eyes and sighed.

“I came to the conclusion that this is not it” he finished and was even pleased with himself.

Marta thought for a moment, but then smiled devilishly again and started again:

“So you let him move in with you because you didn't want to just fuck him, so you fell... in love?”

Naib stiffened at her words and for a moment couldn't say anything, because it was a forbidden word in his vocabulary. Ever since Campbell had appeared, it had been taboo, it was illegal. Now Marta said it so casually.

“No”, he said after a moment, but Martha only approached him and began to look at him carefully.

"You're an idiot, Naib," she commented, leaning back on the sofa and sighing. "A total idiot."

Naib leaned back too and stared into nothingness. Suddenly, his chest began to ache a bit, perhaps because he'd lost a bit to Martha, or perhaps because life was suddenly so bitter.

"Besides," he began, though he wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to say. "You see how he is..." he mumbled. "He doesn't work, he doesn't do anything, he's selfish. Why do I need someone like that?"

Martha looked at him over her glass.

"Then why do you keep him around? I can't even call him your farmhand, because you say he doesn't do anything." She drank her juice.

“When he gets himself together, he'll move out” Naib didn't quite know what he was saying anymore, because suddenly he felt really strange and couldn't locate his own, muffled thoughts.

Martha sighed again, and did it so theatrically that Naib heard her sigh echo in his skull.

"You're stupid, Naib, I honestly can't believe you're acting like this." She patted him on the shoulder. "But maybe that's a good thing," she added, and patted his head.

Subedar did not fully understand her and wanted to drink more alcohol, not only beer.

***

After Naib left, Norton wanted to go back to reading, but he became extremely distracted and was unable to focus on another homeless wanderer searching for his beloved, kidnapped by lake spirits or other devils.

His thoughts were occupied by Subedar, whether he wanted to or not. He'd been thinking about him a lot lately. About nothing in particular, their conversations, or just Naib's habits. He remembered his face and his favorite expressions. Like when he frowned at Norton, or rolled his blue eyes. Or when he felt so comfortable, coming home from work and settling into bed. He always wore a faint smile and snuggled into the covers, happy to finally be in his own bed. He made the same expression when he ate. His face seemed so dreamy then, as if the food were something otherworldly.

They were very slight expressions, for Naib's face was usually static, and yet Norton noticed them all.

Lately, Campbell had been paying special attention to the brown-haired boy because he was finally home and they could finally spend some time together. Norton found it strange to admit that he could somehow enjoy the company of another person so much. It had never been like this. He could always be alone, and even gravitated towards that solitude, exhausted by any social interaction.

But with Naib, it was different. Norton didn't feel worn out by him at all. Sometimes he was tired of himself, it was true, when he kept thinking about Subedar and couldn't quite figure out why, and that was truly frustrating.

Now he sat on the couch with a book spread across his chest and thought hard about his recent confession.

Why had Norton told him this? Why had he thought it was okay to say such things to Naib? It didn't make sense.

Besides, Norton sometimes felt very strange around Naib now, as if he had been exposed for some secret of his. But he revealed it himself.

Naib hadn't changed much towards him, so there wasn't a problem. Yet Norton felt a bit embarrassed and had a strange feeling that Naib wasn't so indifferent to all this.

Maybe he was thinking about it too much, maybe he should have just ignored it all. He was a grown man, and he was worrying about it like a little kid.

He rolled over and stared at the small television they had in the apartment.

He remembered Naib gluing the antennas to the top of the device because they had stopped working. He'd been doing this for a really long time, getting incredibly angry at the piece of junk he'd promised to trash. But then it magically started working again, so he kept his place. Like Norton, but Norton barely works, and yet Naib wouldn't kick him out.

He could, if he wanted to. Norton wondered why he didn't. Campbell was a rat, nibbling on grain, nothing more. He knew that, yet he had no clue how to move forward and start living like a human again. It was so difficult, so he used Naib.

He suddenly felt a dull pang of guilt, but he hadn't forced anyone into anything, so why should it be his fault? He was ready to live on the streets, ready to simply lose this life, perhaps even willing. And yet, Naib appeared.

His thoughts drifted back to that little guy. He threw his hands up in the air and covered his eyes.

Now Naib was off partying. Without Norton. But Campbell wasn't exactly a good crowd to go out with, so it was understandable. And yet, Norton felt incredibly offended that Naib, all dressed up, had gone out to a bar with someone. He wondered who?

Norton suffered on the couch for a while longer, just thinking and thinking until his head hurt and he fell asleep.

Suddenly, however, he awoke with a start. Sweaty, with a parched throat. His eyes began to wander, searching for water. He felt as if he were a wanderer in the desert, searching for a well.

He tried to get up, but his legs felt like jelly, so he found himself on his knees. He managed to get up and crawl to the kitchen, where he put his head under the faucet and began greedily sipping the yellowed water. Now it didn't matter whether it was yellow or purple, as long as it was water.

He leaned on the counter and grabbed his head.

He hadn't had such a deep nap in ages. He usually woke up after an hour at most. But today, when he looked at his watch, he saw that it was almost 2 a.m.

Naib was still missing, and Norton felt even worse. Where was he?

He sat back down on the couch and decided to turn on the TV to watch something. It wasn't like he wanted to wait for Subedar to get back to make sure everything was okay. Norton just wanted to watch a movie.

He didn't stay long, however, when he heard a horn blowing.

He shook himself and wanted to curse the crazy neighbors who had chosen two in the morning to make a racket, but then he heard a knock on the door. On their door.

He got up from the couch as if scalded and quickly went to them, opening the door immediately.

He saw a girl holding on to her arm... Naib?

"Are you Naib's roommate?" she asked immediately, but didn't even let Norton answer. "I brought your boyfriend back, he's in exactly this condition." She looked at Subedar, who muttered back:

“Shut up, Martha” but he said it so unclearly that Norton had no idea if he had heard correctly.

But he finally knew who the girl was who had dragged the drunken Subedar here. Norton had never seen him like this; he reeked of vodka and beer.

“Come on, take him away,“ Martha said to Norton, who caught him.

The man looked at him with a strange grimace, then lowered his head again. Norton threw his arm over his shoulder to steady him.

"He hasn't puked yet," Martha said. "So good luck," she smiled, clearly amused that now Norton would have to deal with Naib in such a state.

"Are you Martha?" Norton asked again, wanting to make sure he heard her name correctly, which Naib had said so unclearly.

She rubbed Naib's shoulder and brushed his hair back. Finally she replied:

“That's me, and you are?” she looked at Norton sharply.

“Norton,” he replied, still a little confused by it all.

"So, Norton," she began, "take care of this idiot and tell him I'll pick him up at three tomorrow."

Norton nodded automatically.

“Bye Naib” she said and patted him on the head.

He muttered something and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Hang in there, Norton," she said and left.

Norton watched as she got into some cool car and drove away. Damn, she has a car, that's one serious woman.

Norton carried Naib in and threw him onto the couch, where he sat down and leaned back with his eyes closed.

Campbell looked at him for a moment, observing his face, red from alcohol, and his eyes, glassy from the vodka. The guy had done something serious.

“Do you want some water?” he asked and poured it for him, sitting down next to him.

He didn't say anything and just sat there in the same position. Norton even thought he might have fallen asleep, but at some point he turned his head toward Norton and began to stare at him.

"Don't listen to her," he stammered. "That girl is talking nonsense about this boyfriend thing," he added, rubbing his face with his hand.

Then Norton remembered that Martha had actually called Naib Norton's boyfriend.

"Did you tell her I was a little gay?" Norton asked immediately, suddenly feeling extremely offended for some reason.

“What” Naib suddenly perked up a bit. “What the fuck are you talking about, Campbell?”

The black-haired man felt embarrassed, because it could have been a stupid joke, just a normal, ordinary one. Norton was strangely sensitive about this confession.

"I don't know," he replied, scratching his neck in embarrassment.

"Nobody cares," Naib said and began staring at the ceiling again.

“That's good, because I won’t touch you in your sleep, you don't have to worry” Norton didn't know what the fuck he was talking about anymore.

“You would be dead”, Naib replied icily.

Norton looked at him and grimaced at that, because it was a truly harsh reaction. He had a sneaking suspicion that Naib wasn't so... modern in his views. So he asked, somewhat without thinking.

“What are you, a homophobe?” he looked at Naib with irritation.

Naib was now also looking at him and frowning at him.

“Do I look like one?” He didn't take his eyes off Norton.

“I don't know. Maybe in your country it's not-”

"Oho," Naib interrupted. "You think that because I'm from Asia, the 'inferior' one, I'm backward, right?" He stepped dangerously close to Norton. "Listen, I don't give a damn and I don't care about people sex life," he said.

Norton suddenly felt dumb. He actually thought to himself that they in Nepal had probably never heard of such a thing, but Norton was a complete idiot in Ireland and had no idea what it was all about until he came to the States, so maybe it was just him who was backward.

"Sorry," Norton said and looked at Naib apologetically.

“I need to smoke” said Subedar and started looking for cigarettes in his pockets.

"Not fucking home," Norton said and grabbed Naib's hand.

“This is my house, you fucking idiot” Naib wanted to break free from him, but he was too weakened by alcohol.

Norton, however, did not give up and continued to hold him just as tightly, but Naib bravely kicked with his paws and tried to elbow Norton.

"You weren't supposed to smoke in the house, Naib," Norton said stubbornly. "Besides, you smoke too much anyway."

“Let me the fuck go” Naib started struggling with him.

They struggled for a while, Norton practically lying on top of the brown-haired man to stop him from feeding the cancer. But at some point, Naib stopped and his face turned even redder. He freed himself from Norton's grip and sat in silence for a moment, then said:

"Don't go into the bathroom," he said, and stood up. "I'm going to puke and take a bath and I have to do my business, so don't disturb me." And he turned and disappeared behind their bathroom door.

Norton sat there for a moment, staring blankly at the door, and then he thought, "His own business, his own business, does he mean it?..." And he wanted to stop thinking, because he felt like a teenager thinking about his idol without a shirt. He felt even more embarrassed and buried his face in his hands.

God, Norton really is a little gay.

Chapter Text

Norton realized that besides being poor and screwed, he was also in trouble, and it was precisely because he was poor and screwed. He didn't quite understand what was wrong yet, but something was seriously wrong. Something was seriously wrong with him, and it was all so strange, and Norton hadn't signed up for it.

Campbell had been going through a lot of trouble over the past few weeks, just like the heroes of all the romance novels he'd read. Maybe now he was a bit like Gustaw, undergoing a metamorphosis into Konrad. He no longer understood how he could have discovered so much about himself in such a short time. So it had to be some kind of transformation, a metamorphosis.

(Is a reference to Polish dramas by Mickiewicz from the Romantic period, where the main character Gustaw transforms into Konrad by writing on the wall of his cell "Gustaw died - Konrad was born". I didn't change it out of sentiment)

It wasn't just that he liked men, and now he was more certain of it than ever before, but he himself had become so eager for constant company that he didn't recognize himself at all.

There were still those moments… moments Norton wasn't proud of, or rather, they were moments that confused him even more about his own being, and he began to question everything he had managed to build into his worldview over the years. Now, perhaps, the end of the world was upon him, and what if only the view remained?

Naib left for his work. He'd been behaving completely normally all morning. As if everything that had happened yesterday hadn't happened and Norton had imagined it all. Subedar wasn't hungover at all and was in a good mood. He wasn't tense and irritable like before; in fact, he acted as if he'd been reborn. That night was special. He, Norton, had transformed, and so had Naib. Except that Norton had become a martyr to his own mind, while Naib was simply doing well.

Maybe he'd had a good time last night? Norton wondered, maybe he had. He couldn't have a bad time with a woman like Martha. Campbell even understood, because that car was a real deal, and Naib must have known that. Besides, if he was with Martha, then he wasn't on a date. Of course, Norton wouldn't care, if he were on a date. Why would he?

But back to those moments, those moments... Norton, after Naib had left, after he had made sure he wouldn't be coming home because, let's say, he'd forgotten something; he'd devoted himself to something he hadn't done in ages, and which had recently re-entered his daily routine - he was doing himself good.

And maybe he felt awkward that suddenly, for some unknown reason, this function had unlocked for him again. Norton would even be happy, because it wasn't that he didn't like it, it had bothered him in some way before that he hadn't felt any need to jerk off, but at that moment, it was a bit like a curse, because he finally understood a little bit why he'd been able to masturbate again recently.

He always tried to do it as quickly as possible. When Naib was around, he usually did it while he was showering, because he started washing after Naib so Naib wouldn't rush him. Today he didn't know what to do. He lay in bed and thought, suddenly feeling an unusual urge to play with himself, but his mind kept reeling from yesterday's events and the image of what Naib had been doing in that damn shower.

He got angry with himself and kicked the covers up in frustration.

He's not going to jerk off to his friend, is he? Even if it wasn't about Naib at all. It was just about Naib being a man, and Norton discovering his other self. It was just that, and nothing more. Norton had simply lived celibate and depressed for too long, so now that he was a little more free from the shackles of the poor man's martyrdom, he had also fallen into the martyrdom of sexual desire.

Norton couldn't lie still and rot in bed, reading books and thinking about nothing. Campbell was thinking far too much. Naib was too much on Norton's mind, and thus he became a victim of his sinful mind.

That would be fine, because it wasn't really a big deal, but Norton had a feeling there might be something more beyond this whole need for physical contact. Something he didn't understand. Or maybe Norton was just making it up because he wanted to be like one of those romantic idiots he read about in poetry.

He bit his lip and mentally convinced himself that it was normal to use his friend's image to project sexual acts in his head, starring him, and pleasure himself in the process. It was perfectly natural behavior, and surely everyone had moments like that in their lives.

So he'd already taken care of what needed to be taken care of, otherwise he'd be walking around with a stick up his ass all day. It had been hard enough to survive until now, so he wasn't going to bother anymore. Norton had suffered enough in his life.

Then he was as if resurrected; he hadn't been as satisfied as he was now in a long time, perhaps never before. Everything was alright again.

His physical needs were satisfied, but his spiritual, inner needs still remained. His inner self craved human contact, and perhaps this was against his nature, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Before, he had Naib, all the time, nonstop. Those were truly good days, wonderful, spent doing nothing, and yet doing nothing was so much better with Naib. Campbell will remember this moment like a person remembers their childhood.

He could certainly call Subedar his friend. Now he was sure that was it, and for the first time Norton could boast of having such a person in his life, right?

Before, there had only been this Orpheus, but he couldn't even call him an acquaintance, because he didn't want to know him, but perhaps he knew him too well. He remembered the man and grimaced, sitting on the couch with the newspaper spread out on his lap, where he sometimes did crossword puzzles, but now he couldn't concentrate.

That slimy face was painted on, and that perpetual poseur smile of his. Norton couldn't like him. Orpheus vaguely defined the image of people Campbell couldn't stand. He was the progenitor of them all in Norton's mind.

The black-haired man sighed, because for a split second, a very small one, he thought he might like to talk to Orpheus. He grimaced at this and put the newspaper down in disgust.

He had to get out of the house. There was no point in staying here if Naib wasn't around. Norton was getting a little tired of looking at the same wooden faces on the walls, listening to the refrigerator hum and the dripping water from the bathroom faucet, where Naib always placed a bucket of water, saying he'd use it to water the plants or wash the dishes. The plants died long ago, when Naib was on his way to saving the year, so he just washed the dishes in it.

It was all getting so boring and maybe even a little irritating that Norton suddenly couldn't stand it anymore and got up from the couch with the intention of leaving.

When Naib left for work, he'd be fighting with his wardrobe and clothes again, so Norton didn't have to fight again today. He took Naib's sweatshirt and deliberately dug through the rags to dig it out, but it was really cool, and Campbell liked it immensely. It had a large hood, which he always pulled over Naib's face, so he'd fight to free himself. This amused Norton immensely, because the shorter man always got very angry about it, and Naib was supposed to be a haven of peace. Campbell knew he wasn't.

So he left their apartment and headed to a place he might have ignored a bit when things got interesting at home again, but now he was heading to that theater club because it had suddenly become close to his heart again.

Norton didn't see them often, but he didn't feel particularly awkward in their company. He especially liked Margaretha, with whom he'd recently begun talking a lot—or rather, she talked a lot.

Norton learned about her toxic relationship with a guy named Sergie, from whom she doesn't know how to leave. He also learned that she liked a certain girl, but she wouldn't tell him who it was, and Norton didn't ask either.

Mike was being Mike, annoying but helpful. He'd recently bought Norton new shoes, and now he didn't have to wear those slippers of his that Naib always made fun of. He'd also given him a leopard-print scarf, and Norton was feeling a bit fancy.

Violetta had always been very nice, but Norton hadn't seen her as often lately. She'd appear briefly, then vanish. Norton had met Murro recently. He was Mike's half-brother.

There was also him, the Joker. It was hard with him because all he did was stare at Norton with his sad, murderous gaze. Especially when he was talking to Margie, or Mike was clinging to him like Velcro, which he'd already started to ignore because fighting it was like tilting at windmills. That's why Campbell didn't quite understand what was going on with Joker. He clearly didn't like Norton, but Norton isn't exactly a pork chop to be liked by everyone, so he completely ignored it.

They were a cool crew, Norton had to admit, though he'd never expected to use that phrase in their direction. They were full-time artists, so they also drank themselves into oblivion. Campbell used to use drugs with them sometimes, but he'd have such bad days that he'd just stop and only occasionally drink the beer Mike gave him. They all ate drugs like candy and then acted really funny, yet so stupid at times, that Norton felt a certain superiority over them, and maybe that was why they were so easy for him to get along with.

He finally reached their theater and, as usual, slipped backstage, where he knew their main hangout was. In fact, Norton had never seen them do anything else but sit there.

“Norton!!!” Mike immediately ran up to him and threw himself into his arms, to which Norton just rolled his eyes in irritation but said nothing.

“Hi Nortie” said Margie, who was sitting on the couch and looking really stoned.

Joker just looked at him with that dissatisfied and sad expression on his face.

Norton sat down next to Margaretha, who put her feet on his lap and leaned her head against the couch.

Mike sat down right next to Campbell, and now he was surrounded and even felt a little threatened.

"How's Nortie?" Margie asked and laughed into nothingness, immediately joined by Mike, whose pupils were so dilated that Norton had the impression his eyes were black.

"Fine," Norton replied and leaned back, pushing Mike's face away from him with his hand.

"Did you snatch someone?" Mike asked suddenly, still trying to get to Norton to hug him. "You haven't been here in a while, what were you doing?"

Norton sighed. Maybe the boredom at home was better after all.

“No”, he replied shortly and picked up the water pipe, because he suddenly became a bit tense again.

Who could he possibly snatch? Technically, he's still with Melly, right... Besides, Norton never left the house, so he could only hook up with Naib, if necessary.

He laughed at his thoughts, thus letting his guard down, allowing Morton to latch onto him.

Getting Naib out sounded like the funniest joke he had ever heard, and at the same time his chest started to hurt for some reason.

Norton had no chance. Even if he had hypothetically tried to snatch Subedar away, he would probably have failed immediately, because Naib seemed immune to such a thing. Besides, who would want a Norton like that? Naib wouldn't, and Norton wouldn't want himself either.

The drugs were messing with his head, and he suddenly felt very ill. His body felt heavy, and the world began to blur in his vision.

How long had he been smoking? He'd only just started, but this was something stronger, definitely stronger.

“What is this?” Norton asked at one point, interrupting the conversation in which he was apparently also participating, but did not understand anything.

"That's, honey," Mike began, pressing his cheek to Norton's. "It's the newest product on the market, top-shelf. You can call it the gifts of the Holy Spirit." He said solemnly, kissing Norton on the cheek, to which he pulled away in disgust.

Mike started laughing, but Norton's head was still spinning uncomfortably.

All the sounds became more pronounced, but he couldn't understand a thing. He still felt overwhelmed by this whole fucked-up existence, and this time it wasn't because of the poverty he was in, but because of... what exactly? He didn't understand, but he felt worthless and broken.

Norton was broken, he certainly was. His life had no meaning. It had no meaning to Naib either.

He swallowed his strong breath as he thought of Subedar. Of the look in his eyes that night when he'd assured him not to listen to Martha. He'd looked genuinely terrified at the concept of... being in a relationship with someone like Norton.

But why did it hurt? They were friends and had nothing more, right?

Norton, however, couldn't help but feel like a failure when he thought about Naib back then. The subsequent conversation also sent him into a panic.

Naib didn't care that Norton liked men too. He was completely indifferent to it, and that was a good thing, but it annoyed Norton like nothing else.

He buried his face in his hands, unable to bear the cacophony of sounds around him and in his head.

"Everything okay?" Margie asked suddenly, touching his hand and moving a little closer. "Hey Norton," she began stroking his hand.

Norton took his hands away from his face and looked at her.

"It's okay," he said, but he definitely wasn't okay. "Too strong for me," he added, and stood up, wobbling a bit.

"Let's go outside," Margie said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. "You stay, Mike," she said to Morton, who was already getting ready to assist them.

Finally, they reached the field, where Norton felt the pleasantly cold air. He immediately felt better.

"Hey," Margie began, still holding his hand. "How are you feeling?"

Norton looked at her. Her face showed concern. He felt a little embarrassed.

“Fine,” he said.

And they stood there in silence for a while until the girl broke it.

"You know, I'll break up with Sergi," she began. "And I'll tell her everything," she added, smiling to herself. "Although I'm scared, but," she looked at Norton. "Why not?"

Campbell remained silent.

"How do you know that..." he began, but hesitated. "That you have feelings for her?" he finished, pushing down the lump in his throat.

Margie rested her head on Norton's shoulder.

"It's simple," she began. "I like spending time with her... I like her smile and laugh, or when she scolds me for something, because she tends to overthink everything," she laughed. "When I'm with her, I just feel okay... sometimes...." She squeezed Norton's hand. "I think about other things, you know physical things, where I can only see her." She looked at Norton. "That's why I know it's not just friendship."

Norton stiffened when he heard the last words, because he had a premonition of what "other things" might mean and he was very scared, so he blurted out:

"But it's normal doing yourself good to your friends' image, right? Doesn't everyone do that?" he started nervously, feeling so embarrassed to be talking to Margie about it and yet so terrified, because what if not everyone does it? What then?

Margie started laughing, and Norton stared at her as if she were a broken TV, hoping it would suddenly start broadcasting something again.

"I don't think so, Norton." She patted him gently on the shoulder and continued smiling. "You feel the same way, don't you? With that someone."

With who? How does Margie even know there's this person in Norton's life? Norton never went around talking about jerking off while imagining his friend jerking off in the shower. And stop with this thought altogether, damn.

“I-” he stuttered because he had no idea what to say.

"Listen, Norton," Margie began. "Try to think about it the way I started thinking about her. Test it out and you'll come to a conclusion. If the idea of ​​being with this person doesn't bother you, then... tell him that, he's a boy, right?" She looked sharply at Norton, who had perhaps given up a bit and simply nodded.

They stood there in silence for a while, not talking about anything, but then Margie finally asked:

“Better?... sometimes it's like that after drugs” she added.

“Better” it was maybe a little better.

But what now?

Chapter Text

Naib's life has been somewhat back to normal lately. As normal as a drug dealer's life can be, that is. Anyway, it was a nice escape from the constant thoughts that had been haunting him all this fucked-up time, and Naib was probably a bit of a pussy.

Perhaps it was somewhat childish and immature behavior, but Naib was simply fed up with the daily Sisyphus he faced with his brain, which he couldn't reason with. And if even his own brain lacked reason, how could Naib?

At work, things were alright. Often, he didn't do much and just sat and watched movies with Martha or Luca at their "base." Sometimes he'd go out in the evening to deliver a shipment, sometimes he'd beat someone up. Usually, it was gangster stuff, nothing too exciting, just a regular day.

But there was him, too. The idiot Martha was talking about. At first, Naib thought she might be exaggerating, but now he'll never doubt Martha's words again. Florian had been soundly slapped, probably several times.

The guy always wore a crooked smile, which was probably some kind of lockjaw, because Naib couldn't believe it was his natural expression. It was a bit creepy. He was also missing an eye and wore a patch over half his face.

But besides that smile, people can't control their appearance, right?; there were so many other disturbing things about this man.

Naib became, in a way, his babysitter, as Martha immediately gave up her role and handed the problem over to Naib. So now the Subedar had to deal with him, which was irritating.

At least he knew how to sell drugs. Naib had to give him that. He quickly sought out customers with his eye; he could clearly tell them apart. He'd quickly get the job done and come to Naib, eager for praise. Like a dog.

Florian's youth also proved to be an asset. Sales at the university were flourishing, thanks to him. He was constantly seeking out new clients.

But was he incredible... stupid? He needed orders, otherwise he couldn't act, as if he couldn't use his brain. That's why Naib had to keep an eye on him. Without orders, Florian was a threat to the life and health of everyone around him, and that wasn't profitable.

He also liked fire. He often played with Naib's lighter or set fire to trash cans. But he always put them out afterwards. The Subedar couldn't understand him. Perhaps he was too old, or perhaps Florian was simply unstable.

"You've known Martha for a long time, haven't you?" he asked one time when they were on a mission to track down one of those skulking "stray dealers" Martha had told them to get rid of.

Naib had already beaten up a few of them and taken their goods. It was actually quite refreshing and incredibly pleasant, a stress reliever.

“Focus, you idiot” Naib slapped Florian on the head.

They didn't have time for some silly giggles; they had to act. Naib didn't like being distracted in work; if he had a goal, that became the most important thing, and everything else was irrelevant.

“That's him,” Florian pointed at some kiddo standing by the wall of some dingy apartment building.

That was their last target for today. Beat the crap out of them, take their drugs, and tell them to go to the moon. It's as simple as that.

Naib immediately started walking towards him. The sooner he'd finish, the sooner he'd be home. Although, was staying home in this situation something Subedar desired? He was divided on the matter. On the one hand, he'd always looked forward to seeing Norton, but on the other, it was distinctly strange.

Naib tried to act completely normal, but maybe he just couldn't? He kept thinking about Martha's words, which were unnerving him, because he was starting to admit to himself that she might actually be right. Naib might have known for a long time that something was up, but of course he had to act like a complete idiot and ignore it, instead of rooting it out before it could grow… or at least try to change something.

He didn't have time to continue his thoughts, however, as he felt a searing pain in his thigh, and for a moment he couldn't comprehend what was happening. Then the lights went out for a second, and his face contorted to the side, and then there was only a searing pain on half his face and a metallic taste in his mouth. This taste of blood sobered Naib somewhat, and he clutched his aching face and jumped away from the brat who had beaten him so badly. What a total disaster, he thought, feeling ashamed of himself.

“Boss!” he heard Florian's idiotic voice, rushing to help him, but the kid had already fled, so he just grabbed Naib in his arms as if he were dying.

Subedar pushed him away, still ashamed and angry at himself for allowing this to happen. He frowned and spat blood onto the asphalt.

“The dick ran away," he said angrily.

"I can catch him," Florian assured quickly, and was about to give chase, but Naib waved him off, having completely lost the motivation to gangster today. "The boss is wounded," Florian added, looking at the angry Subedar, who scowled even more at this idiot's words.

Florian approached, however, and Naib felt a stabbing, unpleasant pain in his thigh, which made Naib stiffened and groaned. The blond showed him the bloody knife, and panic spread across his face, though that damn smile never left it. He was a terrifying man.

Naib cursed because everything hurt, and the fucking wound on his thigh began to bleed badly and run down his leg. On top of that, one of his nicer trousers was ripped open, what a bummer, and he could have worn Campbell's pants to work.

Florian started looking for something in his backpack, which he had turned to the front.

"You're bleeding, boss, I have a bandage," he said, handing it to Naib. "Need help?" he added, but Naib pushed him away. Life suddenly felt so frustrating.

"Fuck off," he said, sitting down on the ground to bandage his bleeding thigh. He glanced at his ruined pants and grimaced even more when he saw a huge red stain on his leg.

Florian did not move and still stood over Naib as if enchanted, and Subedar felt his gaze on him.

"Tell Martha we got two of them and one ran away, okay?" He looked at the blond, hoping the command would shake him off a bit. "Don't tell her that,” he pointed to the wound “Tell her he just ran away. Do you understand?"

Florian stood over Naib for a moment, a look of conflict on his face, but then he nodded like an obedient dog and finally left him. Subedar breathed a sigh of relief, then cursed again and went back to bandaging himself. Defeated by some brat, it was a failure.

***

Norton began to feel internally stressed and panicked. The unknown was always terrifying, especially when he couldn't understand it. Campbell simply didn't understand, and he knew he didn't understand, but he couldn't. Had he fallen in love with that gnome? Really?

He sprawled on the couch, exhausted by existence, and sighed loudly. The love poetry lay forgotten on the table next to him, suddenly unpleasant and repulsive. He was probably satisfied with what he probably had in his life right now. "Fuck it all," he decided, and sighed theatrically again, no longer knowing how to cope with everything going on in his head.

He was roused from his frenzy as Mickiewicz's suffering hero by the sound of the door opening, creaking mercilessly, eager for lubrication. But it was open ever so gently, and Norton didn't even hear the sound of a key. Alarmed, he turned around, what if it was a burglar? He might have nothing at all, but he wouldn't let Naib be robbed, would he? So he was ready to fight.

There was no reason to fight, however, as the apartment owner had just returned to his cave from work. So Norton turned off his mental alarm.

"God, I thought you were a thief," he said, but Subedar seemed strange to him, so he approached him.

Naib stood unsteadily, hooded, leaning against the door, and didn't even say a word. He entered slowly, not at full speed as usual, and leaned against the wall.

"What's wrong?" Norton walked over to him and tensed a bit as he reached out to hold him. Should he be touching him? He suddenly wondered if friends could really touch each other.

"Nothing, I'm going to the bathroom," Naib said and started crawling towards their musty bathroom.

Campbell felt a lump in his throat, something was definitely wrong, and his pathetic worries suddenly vanished into the corner, perhaps where they belonged, he thought. He was immediately at Naib's side, grabbing him by the hood, trying to understand his strange behavior.

He looked at his face, with the huge bruise under his eye and the split lip, still caked with dried blood. Norton wanted to clean it immediately, so Naib's beautiful lips would be clean, he would lick all the blood, but wait a minute. And he stood there again, stunned, and they stared at each other in silence.

Subedar's expression was incredibly strange, as if he'd been caught doing something embarrassing. Norton had a strange effect on that face, and he felt his cheeks heat up, but he quickly shook it off, because what exactly had happened to Naib?

"Fuck, Naib," Norton said, grabbing his arm, suddenly realizing that he definitely couldn't stand on his own two feet. Then he saw the red stain on the shorter man's nice pants, and his eyes widened in panic. "What happened?" he gasped, terrified, because Naib was fucking hurt.

Then he looked at Naib with a question and shock on his face, waiting for some answer, some explanation.

“Nothing, I have to go to the bathroom” Naib repeated like a mantra and pushed Norton away, but not too hard, so the black-haired man didn't let go of him, but he didn't say anything either.

He led him to the bathroom and Naib sat down heavily on the toilet seat and leaned over, taking a moment.

Norton stood next to him and held his arm.

"There's a first aid kit in the cabinet on the left," Naib muttered, and Norton stood motionless for a moment. "Come on, Campbell, be useful for once" Naib looked at him, irritated.

So Norton immediately brought him a first aid kit.

"What happened?" he asked worriedly, crouching next to Naib as if he were a child with a broken knee.

"Fuck," Naib waved him away. "See, nothing? Just a small wound, for fuck's sake, Campbell."

Then Naib began tending to his wound, which actually turned out not to be that serious, but Norton hovered over him, handing him whatever he could think of that might be useful. But none of the things they offered seemed to help. Then they both sat down on the couch, and Norton couldn't tear his gaze away from Naib, who was still looking at him with concern.

“Will you stop?”b Naib growled angrily.

And Norton kept questioning Naib, but all he got was "it's nothing" and to piss off, so nothing new. And then they went to bed, but Campbell, in the middle of the night, kept staring at Naib and couldn't sleep for some reason. What was Naib to him, anyway? Naib was an adult and a gangster, so what was he to him?

Chapter Text

Naib has adjusted somehow to his gangster life. A few days have passed since the infamous incident involving the hole in his pants and the wound on his thigh, which, however, Subedar will remember for the rest of his life as one of his personal failures.

He needed a few stitches to patch up that unfortunate stab wound. Norton's expression as he watched Naib grab a random needle and thread and sew himself up was priceless. Although he will be left with a scar, and it's probably the most pathetic of all the ones he has in his entire collection.

But life goes on, and Subedar has to get through this. He also has to get through Norton, who was withdrawn and always thinking, or pretending to think, and he had become so quiet that Naib felt like he was living alone again, and it was strange and upsetting to the brown-haired man. But he knew he'd get over it, just as he always did with all his quirks, and it was only a matter of time.

He also noticed that Norton was often not at home when he came back from work, and sometimes when he woke up and instead of seeing the black-haired man lying next to him like a starfish, with one leg usually on Naib, he found the bed empty and often even cold.

Naib found it hard to admit, but it irritated him immensely. Perhaps not so much as it irritated him, but he felt a strange twinge in his chest, and he felt uneasy and strange that Campbell was constantly being whisked away. It made absolutely no sense, because what was he even doing?

He often came home with new items, and Naib wondered where he got all this crap. One day he'd come in with some brand-new Adidas sneakers, and the next he'd have a new belt or leather jacket; in which, Subedar had to admit, he looked very hot. Had Norton really become a kleptomaniac? Naib was just waiting for the police to show up at their house, deport them both, and that would be it. He needed to talk to the idiot about it, but he didn't have the time of course.

So when Subedar got home, he just sat there like your old man coming home from the factory, staring straight ahead, forced to think about it all. He was tired, really tired, and felt like he could only rest at work.

Then, late at night, the black-haired man would show up, wearing some new item of clothing, and would just glance at Naib before going to sleep. Frustrating.

"Are you stealing?" Naib asked at one point when he managed to catch Campbell coming out of the bathroom.

Water dripped from his hair, as usual, because he hadn't dried it thoroughly, but Naib noticed he smelled really nice, different. Was he wearing a new shampoo?

Norton stopped and looked at him.

"I'm not a gangster," he stated, and tried to pass Naib in their small corridor, but the shorter man grabbed his arm and pulled him hard, so hard that he almost fell backward and groaned as if the worst had happened to him.

“I'm seriously asking, idiot” Naib narrowed his eyes and started looking at Norton, what does he have on his nose? “What is this?” he asked, completely confused.

“Earrings,” Norton replied nonchalantly and tried to wriggle out of Naib’s grip.

There were indeed metal piercings on either side of his nose, and they looked truly painful. Had Norton really let himself be pierced by something like that? But they looked really good and completely distracted Subedar. That smell, that wet hair, and those piercings. Naib was in trouble.

They stood there looking at each other, and Naib's grip was weakening, but he soon recovered.

"Where did you get all this stuff? Where did you get those shoes, those earrings, are you playing kleptomaniac now?" Subedar tried to get back to his stern tone, but Norton's voice seemed to have affected him, because he sounded much more worried.

“From Mike,” Norton said and pulled away, avoiding the surprised Naib.

Mike Morton? Do they know each other? Are Mike and Norton friends? Naib had so many questions, but the momentary shock that Norton had any friends left him speechless and unable to think. Is this who Norton spends so much time with? This junkie?

Niab knew Morton. Of course he knew him. The guy was one of his most frequent customers. He consumed drugs like vitamins and was incredibly stupid and naive. Subedar, of course, never missed an opportunity and always charged him more for everything, which allowed him to make a tidy sum of money off the idiot. Mike swallowed anything. Tell him the stuff was the latest hit, and he'd pay twice as much, even if it was the same pill he bought last week. He was a golden customer.

And someone like that is friends with Norton? Norton is on drugs? Naib suddenly got a little scared, so he ran up to the taller man and grabbed his arm.

"Do you know Morton? Are you friends?" He started to unleash a barrage of questions he couldn't contain. "Do you do drugs with him?"

Norton finally turned to him and looked at him strangely.

"What are you worried about?" He smiled like never before, and Naib's heart beat faster, even though it was a malicious smile. "I don't do drugs," he added quickly, scratching under his nose.

“That's good” Naib breathed a sigh of relief and released Norton's arm.

"Mike's a buddy," Campbell continued. "He's okay, he buys me a lot of stuff because he's a fucking banana, but he's okay."

Naib bit his lip, a little irritated by Norton's words. Damn, he was acting like a jealous teenager, but he couldn't help it and said:

“So he's the one you go to all the time now and you're never home?” he was immediately embarrassed by these words, because he said them more sharply and with more emotion than he wanted.

"Is it bad that I have friends?" Norton raised his voice. "Maybe I don't want to see you come home from your awesome job, beaten and injured again."

Naib was stunned, but at the same time, so much irritation welled up inside him that he could only vent it.

"Oh my God, you saw Campbell's blood and you immediately started feeling like a mother? In case you hadn't noticed, I'm the one fucking working in this house, and you're lying on the couch, feeling sorry for yourself. Besides, I know what I'm doing, you idiot, and it's nothing to worry about. It was just a one-time thing, the wound wasn't even serious."

Norton made such an irritating face that Naib felt like tearing out all his hair in frustration, he was completely out of his element, which was completely unlike him.

The worst part was that Campbell didn't say anything more, just turned around and walked back to his room. Oh fuck, Naib wasn't sleeping with him tonight, no way. He followed right behind him.

“You're getting the fuck out of bed” he said maliciously, because maybe he wanted to be malicious today because of the fucked up Norton, whom he had the impression that he hated at that moment.

"You're mad because I'm worried," said Norton, who was already sprawled out. "You've got a problem, man," he added, and picked up a book, but the cover was upside down, so Naib knew he wasn't reading it.

“But what are you worried about?” Naib jumped at him and snatched the book from his hands, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

Norton blinked, clearly surprised by Naib's sudden movement.

"Don’t be," Subedar said more gently, still looking Norton in the eye. "I've been doing this since I was a kid, get it?"

"Don't kill yourself." Norton turned his head away, embarrassed, and Naib got off him and leaned against the wall next to Campbell.

"Don't worry so much," he looked back at Norton, who was staring at his hands, and then they sat there in a heavy, but perhaps necessary, silence. It sucked, because suddenly things got serious.

"I'll start looking for a job, I really will," Norton said, but Naib didn't believe a word he said.

***

Norton sat on the couch, lost in thought, staring at the ceiling. His favorite spider was still there, once again repairing its damaged web. Campbell felt like him at that moment, because everything in his life was starting to fall apart again, but the dark-haired man had absolutely no power to do anything about it. So he was perhaps even worse than that spider.

In fact, Norton was completely devastated, constantly feeling this constant stress and immense guilt. But was it his fault that Naib did this to himself? That he had such a dangerous job?

Campbell had recently done some research into this whole drug dealer thing. He'd rented a few gangster movies and binge-watched them, but only when Naib wasn't home, not wanting to give him any ideas. So he already had a vague idea of ​​what it was all about.

He rolled over and hugged the blanket he had been lying under a moment ago and sighed as the feeling of guilt suddenly hit him again with incredible force.

Subedar chose this fate, didn't he? He had a choice… but did he?

He bit his lip and immediately started biting his nails.

Niab had to work, Norton thought, and was afraid to go any further with his thoughts, but at the same time, he couldn't stop. He wasn't working, he wasn't doing anything, he was just a bedbug in the Subedar's house, whom he supported entirely and still had to endure. Yet Naib was a martyr in a way, and that was admirable.

But he had a choice, after all. He could toss Norton aside like a bug-infested sofa at any moment, and Campbell wouldn't be mad, he'd understand. Maybe he actually kind of wanted it too, because he knew he'd never leave this comfort he didn't deserve. He didn't deserve anything at all, and certainly not Naib, who'd risked his life for… someone like him.

His thumb was already bleeding uncomfortably from biting his nail too deeply. Norton had already started to eat his cuticles around it, but he couldn't even focus on the unpleasant burning sensation, because damn it.

Norton was a brat, poor, hopeless, lazy, and selfish. He knew all this, but he couldn't change it; that's who he was. He was awful, and even if he hadn't made himself that way or chosen it, that was Norton. And Naib had to live with him because he was clearly too kind for this world, but Campbell couldn't be angry with him for that. How could he be angry with Naib? So he could only be angry with himself.

Norton had always had this safety mechanism where he rarely thought about what a terrible person he was, how much trouble he caused, because he did everything he could to avoid such thoughts. He simply wasn't close to anyone, so he couldn't get angry at himself for being selfish back then... But now? Now he had Naib, and Naib was risking his life for him in this fucking job. So how could he not think about all this? About how he was simply a failure.

It was exhausting. Several days passed avoiding Naib, whom Norton couldn't face. Besides, he might come back ragged and covered in blood, and what would Campbell do then? Or maybe he didn't come back at all? It would be his fault.

But Norton couldn't bring himself to do anything. Everything depressed him even more. Why didn't Naib just throw him out? Why couldn't Norton even lose this? He was poor, his existence was pointless, he had no one… or maybe, he'd never had anyone before. That was what complicated everything.

So Campbell hadn't been home much these past few days. He needed a distraction, from everything, from that state of depression that had returned like a mantra. So he'd been going to the theater often, practically every day, and hanging out with his drug-addled friends, or wandering around town with them, and Mike would buy him whatever he wanted. Having a life as simple as Morton's was something.

Norton benefited greatly from his bourgeois generosity. Besides, it cheered him up a bit and took his mind off how hopeless he was. Mike didn't care if he was hopeless or a complete failure; he was simply too rich for that.

Now he was sitting by the pool at Morton's, in his villa. Norton had never seen a pool up close before; in Ireland, he'd only swum in their cold sea, which he could never stay in for more than half an hour. Here, Mike had his own private swimming pool in the backyard, and the water was lukewarm, clean, and not salty. It was incredible.

“You know, I'm fed up with this city” Mike started, but Norton wasn't really listening because he was focused on playing some game on the blond's cool phone.

Damn, the guy had the cell phone of the future, and Norton had a hard time believing that such gadgets had actually been invented in this day and age. Apparently, he also had a computer, so the guy was truly modern.

"I mean, I love it, I really do, but..." Mike started babbling, and Norton was ready for this to be another sad story about being adopted. Mike thought it really was some kind of tragedy that an incredibly wealthy family in America adopted him at age five into their mansion. The guy was a fucking idiot, and if it were Norton, he wouldn't have complained about anything for a moment in his life.

"But I've had enough." Mike glanced at Norton over his sunglasses, and Norton quickly glanced back over his phone. "Joker's such an idiot, he's unbearable, Nortie," he continued. "Besides, you have to evolve, right? I don't stand a chance here," he said, throwing his hands up.

"I never had a chance," Norton grumbled casually, to say anything, because it was true, he had always been poor, always scrounging, and he knew he would never be short of anything.

"I have an idea!" Mike said enthusiastically. "Let's get out of this shithole, go to New York or LA."

Norton looked at Morton and raised an eyebrow because it was so abstract… but maybe only to Campbell.

"Come on, Norton, we'll become actors! And we'll forget about all this and all those stupid, often red-haired idiots," he started to say something else, but Campbell stopped listening.

"If you want, go ahead," he said at one point, because the blond was already planning their entire future on the other side of America. Norton and anything unrelated to poverty? Not in this universe.

"I'll take you with me, I'll really sort everything out, I've had enough of this clown," Mike kicked his legs in irritation, and Norton became thoughtful and laughed, because never in his adult life had he even allowed himself to dream of something so impossible.

He wondered what that life would be like? Norton smiled involuntarily. If Norton were rich, he would support Naib and never let him get involved in anything illegal… but then there would be no Naib in his life. If he left with Morton now, Naib would be completely erased from his world. Maybe things would be better for both of them?

Suddenly, Norton began to suffer again and placed the blond's phone on the glass table next to him, demonstrating his pain.

“I wouldn't go”, he replied melancholy.

Mike frowned and moved closer to Campbell, kneeling next to his lounger, staring into his surprised face. What had suddenly gotten into him? He hadn't been high today, except for those two hits of cocaine, but then again, that was like a spoonful of sugar to Morton.

"You seem tense, Norton," the blond said and closed his eyes.

Then Norton felt the blond's hand grip his thigh and begin massaging it. Campbell immediately snapped out of his shock, wondering why this crazy lunatic was touching him like that. He grabbed his hand and glared at him murderously.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Mike smiled stupidly and raised his hands up.

"Easy, I thought I'd distract you since you're always tense," he rose from his knees. "Sex usually helps me," he added.

Norton continued to stare at him, but he wasn't focused on Mike at all, still recovering from the shock he found himself in, because this situation was so weird and yet so pathetic. Then he felt disgust, because, damn it, of all people in the world, Morton would definitely be the last person Norton would sleep with, and even then, he'd rather die. Even if Orpheus was ahead of him in this nonexistent ranking, then you know something was wrong.

"Don't ever touch," Norton paused to emphasize to Mike, "Me."

He just started laughing like an idiot.

"Damn, it's okay, Nortie, no problem." He was already sitting back in his seat. "You know, I thought that was what you meant, you know from the very beginning" he added.

Norton felt incredibly disgusted again that this fucking idiot had even thought of such an idea.

"But you could use this," the blond adjusted his glasses. "If not with me, then with someone else, because damn it, man, I can see from a mile away that you're frustrated and totally tense," he concluded, nodding to himself as if he'd at least spoken some wisdom.

Norton, however, began to ponder his words, perhaps already a little numb from being with this idiot. But he'd also come to the same conclusions earlier, that he was frustrated, utterly, and on top of that, this constant need… But was it really that obvious? Had Naib noticed it too? What the hell did he care about? Maybe he really should have taken the opportunity that had presented itself, even if it went against his poor principles. Maybe then everything would have returned to normal between him and Naib and the universe and everything. But… would Norton want to do this kind of thing with anyone else but…

He stopped his thoughts and rose from the lounge as if stung, because perhaps he had realized something.

It wasn't about sex, it wasn't about the fact that he liked men because is he really? It was about Subedar, because maybe he was the only one he liked.

He swallowed hard because he was in total trouble. Damn.

Chapter Text

Life had returned to a certain normalcy for Naib and Norton, at least as much as it could in their current, strange situation. Naib had a feeling he was probably the one making things complicated, because he was behaving like a teenager falling in love for the first time. He was increasingly suspecting that maybe it wasn't one-sided at all, and that was terrifying, but at the same time, thinking about it made his heart beat faster, and he couldn't help but smile to himself. It was a nightmare.

Norton had also become quite helpful around the house. He often cleaned, made dinner, and did laundry. He also didn't wear Subedar's clothes as often anymore, which was a bit disappointing for some reason. He was now wearing his gifts from Morton, though, which was irritating, but he looked so… fucking good in them that Naib couldn't complain. The earrings also added so much to his appearance that Naib's mind was constantly occupied with that handsome face of his.

It was nice to come home to a place where everything was taken care of. It was a bit like having a wife. Except that his wife still avoided him a little… or actually a lot. As if he had typhus or some other infectious disease. They talked, but their casual touch, or perhaps even the less casual touch, no longer featured in their lives, and Naib missed it so much.

Neither of them, however, were able to do anything about the situation they'd found themselves in, and perhaps Subedar, being the wiser one, should have changed it. Or was he? On this subject, he was as stupid and idiotic as fucking Campbell. He only wondered if Norton might suspect that the smaller man was indifferent to him in any way. Although perhaps Naib had overestimated his emotional abilities, or perhaps he himself was wrong about Norton, and none of this made any sense.

He was so incredibly stupid and like a child in a fog. Martha was right, he was crazy, and maybe it was because of that poor fucking guy.

He was sitting on the steps of the apartment building where he'd just delivered a shipment. He'd finished work, so he was smoking quietly. Lately, he'd been constantly distracted at work, and even now he couldn't concentrate because of that damn Campbell, there was no break.

Something, or rather someone, caught his eye. Ah, it was him. Naib had noticed him long before, a few days ago, but he had ignored his existence, because what was that idiot doing?

"You can get out," he said, tired of it all. Maybe it was finally time to talk? Actually, Naib had been thinking for a while that they should, but as usual, he had to sweep all his problems under the rug.

An owl flew out from behind the bushes, and then the figure of fucking Eli Clark emerged clumsily.

“How long have you been following me?” asked Naib indifferently, blowing out the stinking smoke of his disgusting Russian cigarette.

"Hi, Naib," Eli smiled shyly and went to the Subedar. "You noticed me," he added, scratching the back of his head. His owl was already perched on his shoulder, staring with wide eyes at Naib, who used to always give her something to eat. He guess she really missed him.

“You've been following me for a few days now and believe me, you lack discretion” Naib took another drag on his cigarette, which he smoked and then stamped out.

Eli sat down next to him and pulled out his damn Marlboro Red. Oh, how Nab missed the taste of them. He pulled one out and handed it to Naib. Then he lit one himself.

“Can we talk, Naib?” Eli asked pleadingly, and Subedar should probably stop punishing him.

He nodded. He was especially pleased with this Malborask now. Eli knew exactly what he was doing, Naib had to give him that.

"Aesop left," he began, his tone heavy, and Naib finally remembered his former roommate's name. "He said he was going back to his ex."

Subedar knew absolutely nothing about Carl, so he wasn't particularly interested in what Eli was saying, but he didn't interrupt him because he knew it was not just anything for Clark.

Then they were silent for a while, smoking, but Eli continued.

“Did you have any further contact with him after... you know?” he looked embarrassedly at Subedar, who frowned at this question.

"No," he replied curtly. "I already told you I didn't give a damn about him, and I don't give a damn about him, Eli."

"I know, but..." Eli started scratching his neck nervously again. "I wanted to make sure, even though I know Naib, I just..."

Naib sighed, because this was all leading back to their eternal conversation.

"Listen, I'm tired of constantly explaining myself and convincing you that I was, is, and always will be indifferent to this guy. We didn't talk, we weren't close, I didn't even remember his name."

“I know, but still…”

"But what?" Naib raised his voice, because he was really fed up with Clark and all of this. "You know I had no idea the guy was messing around with you, you know that, but you're still going to accuse me, over and over and over again. We were fucking, yeah, but it meant nothing, and as soon as I found out about you two, we fucking stopped, get it? You can't erase it, it's already happened, but stop accusing me forever."

Eli fell silent, and Naib pulled another cigarette from Clark's pack and lit it.

"I'm sorry, Naib, I really am," he began. "It's just all in my head... I know, I know, and I believe you, but I can't stop. He made me so stupid, Naib... but I really fell in love."

"I know," Naib said quickly, knowing a thing or two about how stupid someone could be. "But man, I'm seriously sick of feeling this fucking guilt because I didn't do anything to you, and I even hid your betrayals from Gerturde. Just erase my existence from these memories and stop being jealous all the time. Besides, that guy, as you say, doesn't even live here anymore."

Eli smiled bitterly, but Naib knew he needed that bucket of cold water. It would be better for him if Carl left for good, he thought.

"So we can finally talk." Clark lit a cigarette too. "Ah, fuck it, Naib, fuck it, I missed you so much."

Naib was still a little irritated by the earlier conversation, but he smiled in spite of himself.

“I missed your Marlboros,” he said, and Clark laughed.

"And yours? Your roommate, how's it going?" he changed the subject.

"Suddenly we're talking about me?" Naib blew smoke in his face. "It's been better." He frowned, because it really was better for them, and Subedar had no idea if things would ever be the same again.

“The last time I was at your place, I found him there.”

“When the fuck were you at my place?” Naib was surprised because Norton hadn't even said a word about Eli being at their house.

"Long time ago, old news, Naib," he laughed. "But it made me wonder. You know, when I walked by, I thought maybe it was your new boyfriend, or… you know." Naib was about to say something and get angry, but Eli cut him off. "But he told me no. Well, it made me wonder," he laughed. "Why does the guy say you're straight? Didn't you tell him you like guys?"

“Why the fuck should I say that”, Naib said.

He'd never actually told him, but there was no reason for him to. Even if the first thing Norton did after finding out that he actually likes guys was to tell Naib. Actually, maybe it was fair… but Subedar had a feeling that if he confessed to him that he liked men, it would be the final nail in the coffin, a decision Naib himself wasn't sure he was ready for now, or ever would be.

"I don't know," Eli shrugged. "Don't you like him?" He took a drag on his cigarette.

Niab grimaced. What if he even liked him?

"What difference does it make?" he mused, his chest tightening uncomfortably again. "Besides, why are you interfering so much, Clark?"

"I haven't seen you since yesterday, Naib, and I see you're... in a bad state. I know because I was in a similar situation myself, you know. But maybe you're right that it's better not to say anything since he... you know, he's not interested in guys. I guess."

“Who said he isn't Eli?” Naib said without thinking and immediately scolded himself for it in his head.

“Did he tell you that?”

Naib nodded, still angry with himself, but Clark seriously had a way with Naib and he always spilled all that nonsense out into the open.

"Damn, Naib, then you're cruel," he said, and Naib looked at him questioningly. "The guy's into you," Clark added.

Damn, even if he is, so what?

Naib just shrugged, suddenly feeling so tired of this conversation, of Clark, of him opening up, of Clark knowing and anticipating everything, and Subedar was getting fed up with him. But maybe he really wasn't being fair to Norton.