A violet rose is courage
Growing in Nature's Garden of Eden

__________
Point of View: Deceit, First Person
Timeline: Last Night

I closed the old, dark green door to Virgil's apartment behind me and took a shaky breath in ugly green carpeted hallway. 

Well, at least now you can't say that I didn't try.

I didn't linger in front of the apartment. I hopped into the elevator easily enough, and (somehow) made it to the lobby in one piece. They should really fix that elevator.  It looked like it was ready to make a one-way trip to the basement at any given trip.

The same little old lady who let me into the building was still in the lobby where I'd left her, working adamantly on her puzzle.  Why she was working on the puzzle in the apartment building lobby instead of her own room would be a mystery to everyone.

I quickly lowered my hat, hiding most of my face from view. Just in time, as well, as she glanced up at the sound of the elevator closing and smiled at me. "Oh why hello there dear, did you get to see your friend?"

I walked across the pathetically furnished lobby towards her and bowed my head respectfully, using my hand to help keep most of my face hidden from view.  "Yes, yes I did, Miss. Thank you so much, I really do appreciate you letting me into the building."

"No problem at all, dear!" She grinned brightly from her seat. "That was so sweet of you, wanting to surprise him like that! Do come around again, sweetheart."

"Absolutely," I leaned forward, inspecting her puzzle. "That piece doesn't go there," I commented, pointing a misplaced puzzle piece.

"Oh my," she muttered, reaching to her right and grabbing her large, bright red magnifying glass. She squinted at the puzzle for a couple seconds before agreeing. "Well, would you look at that?" She sounded baffled, as she removed the piece. "It's so hard to tell, my eyes simply aren't what they used to be."

"Neither are mine," I whispered under my breath.

"Hm? What was that?"

"Take your time," I changed. "You just have to be patient with yourself."

The lady seemed surprised for a moment, then laughed good naturedly. "Look at you, giving an old lady like me advice. You're such a gentleman; I like you. You're gonna do great things, young man."

"I appreciate that, thank you again, but I am afraid I really should be going."

"So soon? Are you sure that you don't want to stick around and help me with my puzzle?"

"I am afraid that I already have plans this evening."

"Oh really? At this time of day? You got a date with a pretty little lady or something?"

At the moment, the elevator dinged and Virgil popped out, eyes down and practically running towards the door. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice me standing less than 100 feet away. Virgil yanked his hood over his head and was out the door without so much as a glance in my direction.

...Where are you going, Virgil?

I tipped my hat towards the old lady once more. "Or something."

__________

I stayed a good 50 feet behind Virgil, who I noticed was being less careful about keeping his hood up. So he really did think that the only reason he was still alive was because they couldn't find him. Honestly, Virgil was so stupid sometimes. As if someone with purple hair was really that hard to find in a small town. People talk.

Especially about the heartbroken gay man in the building that turned stone cold when his boyfriend -

My phone rang, abruptly cutting off my train of thought. I glanced down to see it was Sleep.

Again.

"Stop calling me."

"Okay so - like - hear me out," Sleep started talking fast and didn't give me a chance to object. "I know that people 'don't just walk away from gangs' and such, BUT can't you tell them to, like, stop? Make an exception. No one has to die."

"It's him or me, Sleep," I answered. "I already warned him. I've done what I can. He's untouchable until Sunday. Once Sunday hits, if someone wants him killed there's nothing I can do."

"Ugh, you're so dramatic.  Come ooonn, De," Sleep whined. "You don't want anything to happen to him either. Can't you bend the rules just this once?"

"And what kind of leader would I be if I did?"

"Who gives a eff about that? What kind of person would you be if you just let him get killed?"

"Look," My eyes flickered up to see Virgil walk into a bar.  Wait, was Virgil was drinking again? "I don't have time for this."

"Of course you have time, De," Sleep protested. "Don't try that crap with with me. This is Anxiety we're talking about.  And I KNOW that you still have feelings for him - "

"I said I don't have time for this," I hissed. "Stop calling me," I demanded, hanging up.

I eyed the bar for a moment, half-wondering what would happen if I dragged Virgil out of there. Would he be thankful? Or would he never be able to see past the things I did to him? To his family?

Granted, I don't think that I'd forgive me either.

__________

"Hello! Great to see you again, De," Doctor Picani said, smiling brightly like a big dork. He settled down across from me. "How about - "

"Look, I'm not here to talk," I interrupted, gritting my teeth. "Just give me the pills and we can both move on."

Picani grew quiet. "You know, I can't do that," he said after a moment. "Why don't we just talk first? It's been a while since your last session. And we'll talk about your medication, I promise. But I want to check up on you first, see how you're feeling," he asked, flipping to a fresh page in his notebook.

I laughed weakly. "Let's see... hmm, how to you describe the word nothing?"

Picani looked at me with pity.

"No wait... yeah. Yeah, I do feel something," I started up again before he could start questioning me again. "I feel broken - I feel it every single time anyone sees this," I waved a hand at my face, specifically at my snake tattoo - covering most, but not all the scaring on my cheek. "Might as well write it on my forehead: defective, out of commission!" My hands were shaking and I was standing, when had that happened? "They look at me like I'm broken! You too! Stop pretending, stop lying! Stop asking me how I feel! Just give me the pills - "

"De, please, let me help you.."

"- Just give me the pills so that I can forget that no one can love me!"

I was breathing heavy, and I forced myself to sit back down. "I - I didn't mean to  say that, just - I just need something to take this edge off. Please. That's what you're supposed to do right? You're supposed to help me. So please, please help me."

"Of course I'll help you, De. But pills aren't going to solve your problems, I can guarantee it. So talk to me, please. Let me really help you, not just give you a quick fix by trading one addiction for another."

I stood back up. "I knew this was a waste of time."

"De," Picani stood up with me. "Please don't leave. I just want to help."

I rolled my eyes. "That's what they all say," I grabbed my hat. "Well, as fun as this has been, I best be off."

"But you just got here..."

"I think I've been here long enough," I commented, storming out without another word.

__________

I found myself back outside of Virgil's apartment building, for some reason. Picani's office wasn't that far away, but I was still going out of my way.

God... I was obsessed! Utterly and completely obsessed! Virgil was just another one of my addictions. And these past couple of months have been hell without him, but seeing him again for the first time in so long... God, it just made everything worse. Standing  there and having to stare at those beautiful brown eyes.. oh God, I'm obsessed.

But at least Virgil isn't seeing anyone. I don't know what I'd do if Virgil came home with another guy. My own jealousy was what tore him away from me the first time. I was jealous of his love for Ollie so I did what I had to - I got him taken away. And everything would still be perfect and I'd still be with him if it weren't for that stupid grandmother that called and mentioned to Virgil that I told them everything.

And when I got home Virgil had been furious, furious with me. I tried to calm him down but it was too late - the damage had been done. His brown eyes were dark with the exact same shade of betrayal then as they had been only a few hours ago.

...

How does someone just.. just stop loving someone? I'll never understand. When I love someone, I love them forever. There is absolutely nothing that Virgil could do to make me stop loving him. Absolutely nothing.

So why doesn't he feel the same?

Did he ever really love me? At all? Or did he lie? Can anyone truly love me? Ever?

My thoughts came to a screeching halt as I noticed a pair of men walking up to the apartment building. One man was quite obviously drunk, his arms draped over the other one, a man dressed almost entirely in pur-

.. Virgil?

I could feel my hands shaking, shaking fists.

"Who," I heard myself say distantly. "Who is that?"

__________

Point of View: Virgil, First Person
Timeline: Present Day, The Following Morning

I walked into the kitchen, yawning loudly and dressed in plaid purple pajamas when I noticed the stranger sleeping on my couch. I clapped a hand over my mouth at the sight of him, holding back a scream and breathing heavily before I remembered last night.

He's still here? I wondered, slowly peeking at him from the side. He didn't look like he'd moved since yesterday.

I don't know why I was really that surprised, I guess. What was I expecting, he'd just poof himself early in the morning after drinking like that? Either way, he'd have a wicked hangover.

Well he's here now and I can't just wake him up and tell him to leave. What was I supposed to do now? What would happen when he woke up? What would happen when if he wanted to know where he was? How do I explain to a sober Roman that this was the best plan I could think of? What -

Stop.

Breathe.

Focus on what you can control.

Worry later.

...

Breakfast couldn't hurt.

I rummaged around my kitchen, hoping to find at least something edible. Apparently Deceit hadn't only raided my stash of M&Ms and ice cream. He'd finished my Lucky Charms too. Which normally wouldn't have been quite so terrible if he hadn't finished off my Lucky Charms.

Disappointed and without my favorite cereal, I was forced to actually find something to make instead (I'd unfortunately finished off my microwave pancakes earlier in the week) and managed to find a couple of eggs in the fridge and a container of strawberries. I didn't bother to make any for myself. Admittedly, I didn't eat breakfast that often, I usually just stopped by Capulus to grab  a coffee on my way to work.

I walked over to the medicine cabinet, hesitating before opening it and grabbing my anxiety pills. Surprisingly, Deceit didn't touch them. I wonder why... usually he would jump at the opportunity to get his hands on pills like these, sell them for four times the usual price... he could get so much money off this, so why didn't he take them? He had to have seen them...

Shrugging off my anxious thoughts, I grabbed two and closed my eyes, quietly wishing for the um-teenth time that the effects were instantaneous.

Deciding to munch on some strawberries just to give my mouth something to do while I waited, I started scrolling through Tumblr. Being mildly amused by some witty text posts, it took me a moment to notice Roman standing and looking around my living room, confused.

I set my phone down and grabbed the container of strawberries. I left the kitchen and leaned against the hallway wall. "Mornin', Sunshine." I guess those anxiety pills have started to kick in, just in time. "You want one?" I asked, gesturing to the strawberry container and grabbing another for myself.

"Wha-" Roman shook his head, as if not believing his eyes. "Sorry, what am I doing here? And - And where exactly is... here?"

"Found you at a bar," I commented. "I tried to get you home, but you were being... uncooperative to say the least. The bar closed, so instead of leaving you drunk on the streets, I brought you back to my place," I finished, quietly noticing how Roman's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, though I decided not to comment on it.

"I got a couple eggs if you're hungry," I waved a hand behind me, gesturing to the kitchen. "Bathroom's down the hall, first door on the right. And I can lend you a change of clothes if you want to change if you want," I paused, remembering Roman's phone. I walked back into the kitchen, unplugging it from the charger and holding it up for Roman to see.

Roman's eyes widened and I hid my smirk the best that I could, holding it out to him over the half-wall between us. "Oh, uh - why thank you, but why are you helping me? I mean, we barely know each other," he commented, blinking curiously at me.

I shrugged. "Just the right thing to do," I dodged. 

Actually, I didn't know why I had helped him. Why did I care about what happened to him? Was it because he was human, just like me, or because of something else? Was I finally starting to move on?

"Well then. I thank your inner morality - oh my stars!" Roman shouted and I jumped in surprise, but Roman didn't seem to notice - panicking "Patton! I was supposed to call him!" Roman groaned, perhaps a tad melodramatically, when he noticed that his phone was off. "Oh, he's going to kill me..."

I winced. "Sorry," I apologized. "I charged it while you were sleeping, but it kept shutting down. You got a lot of notifications. Should be fine now though."

Apparently that was not the right thing to say because Roman only looked even more distressed, groaning again. "Patton is definitely going to kill me."

I raised my eyebrows in response, and Roman looked back at his phone, which was still powering up. "So," he said suddenly, probably trying to fill the silence.  " You... saved me?"

I frowned at him, eyes flickering to the side. No, I didn't like where this was going. I was not hero, I'm just... me. I'm just guy with sad story and an addiction problem...

Doesn't exactly sound much like a hero to me.

"Oh come onnn," Roman grinned and put his hands stubbornly on his hips. "Might I at least know that name of my hero - you dark, purple prince? Pretty Purple Boy is a bit of mouthful."

I rolled my eyes. "Nice try," I took a few steps backwards and turned into the kitchen again, leaning on the counter. As I expected, Roman followed close behind me, still grinning.

"Ah, are you granting me full creative control with whatever nickname I decide on?" Roman hummed, almost on his tiptoes in anticipation.

"No, no, no," I pointed sternly at him. "Absolutely not."

Roman smirked, being the conceited idiot that he is. "Alrighty, Hot Topic."

"Roman -"

Roman threw his hand in the air dramatically, as if not knowing my name was such an inconvenience to him. "You know my name!" he protested, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. "It's only fair I know yours."

"Yeah - not happening."

"Oh, I insist Mister..." Roman's voice trailed off, waiting for me to fill in the blank. "I'm afraid I'm going to need your name."

I almost laughed at that attempt, but I quickly turned around before Roman could notice.

A loud dramatic sigh came from behind me, but I ignored it in favor of sitting criss-cross applesauce on the counter and grabbing another strawberry from the now half-empty container.

Roman gave another - equally dramatic - gasp, hand coming up to cover his mouth and his horror filled eyes were locked on his phone, which I guess must've finally turned on. He just blinked at it, almost looking a little sickly.

"What is it?" I couldn't help asking. "What's wrong? Your hangover didn't just hit you did it?" I quickly hopped to the ground. "Bathroom is behind you, first door on the left."

"It's worse than a hangover, although I do have a killer headache.  But no, it's my friend, Patton - you met him yesterday! - well I have 24 missed calls from him as well as... this," Roman winced, handing me his phone.

"Uh no," I muttered unintentionally, holding his phone out back out to him.

Roman dropped his head in his hands. "Keep scrolling."

"You better call him," Virgil commented.

Roman just nodded, wincing a bit as he raised the phone to his ear and waited.

-----

Point of View: Roman, First Person
Timeline: Present Day

"Prince!" Patton screamed from the other end and I winced, instinctively pulling the phone away from my ear. "Oh, I'm so happy that you're alright! You scared me so much kiddo! What happened? Why didn't you call me?" Patton said rushed and my hungover brain was barely able to keep up.  "Where are you? Wait, are you alright? Are you hurt? Oh my gosh, it's your leg, isn't it? It's broken! Oh my gosh, you were in an accident weren't you?! Oh my gosh, I went back to the shop, but it was closed and you weren't there so I went to your apartment but that was empty too and oh my gosh, were you mugged on the way home?! I told you that if -"

"Patton," I interrupted gently.  "I am fine," I stressed, smiling a little.  It was... nice that he'd been so worried about me.  "I'm okay," I managed, wincing a bit.  I still felt a little dizzy and I could feel a hangover coming on.  Gosh, how much did I drink last night?

"Drinking? What do you mean drinking?" Patton questioned rapidly.

... Oops.

"Uh, it's nothing Pat," I dodged, keeping my eyes locked on the white tile floor. "I'm sorry for worrying you, but I called to let you that I'm alright."

"Roman, were you out drinking last night?"

I winced.  "... Yeah, yeah Pat, I was."

Patton sighed and I could practically hear the disappointment in his voice.  "Roman, you can't keep doing this.  This is starting to turn into a serious problem."

"I'm fine, really," I sighed, running a hand through my hair.  "I mean, come on... I just need to know my limits better, that's all."

"That's what you always say," Patton countered.  "Look, we both know that this has absolutely nothing to do with knowing your limits - you know your limits, you're doing this on purpose.  Please, admit it, Roman! You have a drinking problem!  And you need help-"

"Oh my gossshhh Pat - I do not have a drinking problem!" I argued.  "People get drunk, Pat! This happens to everyone! You don't have to make such a big deal about it!"

"This does not happen to everyone," Patton voice was serious.  It was... scary.  "I worried about you all night, Roman," Patton pleaded.  "All night!  And I spent the night on your couch waiting for you to get home and wondering if I should file a missing persons report to the police - Roman, that's not normal anymore."

I didn't trust myself to respond.

I could hear Patton sigh on the other end.  "Look, we can talk about this later.  Are you safe?  Do you need me to come pick you up?"

I flicked my eyes back up to see Purple Boy leaning against the corner and looking generally very uncomfortable, who immediately avoided my eyes - instead choosing to fiddle with the bottom of his black t-shirt.

"Yeah, I'm safe.  And... yeah, I need you to come and pick me up."

"Okay," Patton said calmly and I could hear the faint but familiar jiggle of Patton's car keys on the other end of line.  "Where are you?"

I opened my mouth to respond before falling silent.  "I don't know," I admitted.  "Where are we?  Patton is going to pick me up."

Purple Boy gestured for me to hand over my phone and I quickly complied.

"Uh, hi Patton.  I don't know if you remember but I met you yesterday at the coffee shop? Oh okay, uh, great.  I ran into Roman later and ended up bringing him back to my place.  Yeah.  Uh-huh.  Are you ready?  So I live in Nooble Zealand Apartment Complex," Purple Boy paused.  "Okay then.  So you - do you know where Fashion Avenue is? Great, follow Fashion for a couple of miles and then make a left on Felicia.  From there keep going until you reach Felicia and Silverstone.  Make a right onto Silverstone Street and just keep going until you run outta road - the last intersection, across from Walmart.  From there make a right and it should be almost immediately on the right - a big tan building.  Call once you get here and I'll tell Roman to head down."

There were various noises of agreement and Purple Boy handed me back my phone.

"Uh, you got all that Pat?"

"Yup!" Patton returned.  "And you didn't tell me you spent the night with him!  It's Purple Boy, right?" Patton whisper-squealed so loudly I winced, pulling the phone a bit away from my ear.

"Yeah, but it wasn't like that, Padre," I said amused.  Not that I would've minded, I added silently.  "And even if something had, my private life is my private life - stop prying," I chided, but I mostly was just grateful that Patton had stopped being mad at me, even if only momentarily.

"I'm your Dad, you don't have a private life," Patton returned and I could almost see him smiling.

"... rude."

Patton laughed.  "I'm leaving your apartment now," Patton stated.  "I should be there in twenty-ish minutes, depending on traffic.  I'll see you then... okay?"

"Okay.  And... and I'm sorry for making you worry.  On top of the drinking, I don't think I realized how tired I was."

I could almost see Patton shaking his head.  "You work really hard, Prince.  Harder than a lot of people realize," Patton said lightly.  "Finding a balance when you work as much as you do isn't easy.  But that doesn't mean drinking your problems away is the solution whenever you're stressed," Patton coaxed.  "Like I said, we'll talk about this more later.  I'm just glad that you're alright.  For now, stay safe - okay?"

"Okay."

"Love you Ro," Patton hummed, waiting patiently for my response.

I sighed, chuckling a little.  "Love you too, Dad.  And thank you."

"Of course kiddo - byeeee," Patton said, hanging up the phone and leaving Purple Boy and me in borderline awkward silence.

"Hey," Purple Boy said, running a hand through his hair and looking like the definition of uncomfortable.  "Look I, uh, couldn't help hearing some of that," he admitted.  "Does this type of thing happen... often?" he questioned.

I didn't bother to answer, dropping my head.  "Look, I know it sounded like and I know what this looks like, but I don't have a drinking problem."

"Well, even if you don't," Purple Boy continued, reaching towards the fridge.  "Then take this just in case," he said - handing me a thin card.

I glanced down.

"Look," I held the card back out to him.  "Truly, I'm fine.  I don't need this."

Purple Boy shrugged, putting his hand in his pajama pants pocket.  "It doesn't hurt to have, just in case."

"I know, but really I don't..."

Purple Boy shook his head, turning away from me.  When he turned back around he was holding something, a small... coin? 

"My sobriety chip," Purple Boy held it out to me.  "One year sober."

I held it in my hands carefully, almost afraid to drop it.  It was small, easily to fit in the palm of my hand. It was bronze and embedded with a Roman Numeral one along with the words 'To Thine Own Self Be True.' I carefully traced a lettering, shocked.  "I - I didn't know..."

"Of course you didn't," Purple Boy huffed, crossing his arms over his chest - amused.  "I was actually seven years sober, but last year I - uh, I relapsed.  I know you said that you don't need it, but to me it sounds like this is starting to get out of control."

"I don't really drink that often though, I swear.  Last night was a fluke-"

"Doesn't always matter how often you drink, sometimes it matters how how long or how much," Purple Boy corrected, voice low.  "And if your friend is that worried about you, then I think you should start listening to him."

"No, I'm fine, he's just overprotective, that's all," I waved my hand dismissively.  "Uh, do you have some Advil or something?" I asked, handing the sobriety chip back to Purple Boy and placing the Alcoholics Anonymous card on the counter.

"Don't change the subject, it's not gonna work with me," Purple Boy ignored my attempt at changing the subject.  "Look I'm not taking sides, I'm just being upfront.  I've been in your position and trust me, you're so lucky to have someone like Patton that look out for you, the cares about you so much.  Even if you think that you're fine, please just humor him.  I mean, it's not like it could hurt."

"The problem is that I'm fine," I restated.  "And I'm grateful that you helped me out last night, truly, but I really don't need anymore people telling me what I should be doing with my life."

Purple Boy winced.  "That's not what I meant -"

"That's what they all say."

Purple Boy raised his hands in surrender, leaning back on the counter.  "Okay, fine, you win."

I ran a hand through my hair.  "No, - Look, I'm really am grateful for everything that you've done for me.  And I'm sorry for everything that happened to you that got you to that point," I gestured to the sobriety chip, which Purple Boy had set back into what must've been his medicine cabinet.  "But I'm not you."

"No, you're not me," Purple Boy commented, reaching into the medicine cabinet and holding a small container of Advil out to me. "I'm smarter."

"Excuse me?"

"This is your reality check, Roman.  Take a nice, long look.  Maybe one day you'll start to realize that getting help is more important than your pride," Purple Boy point his finger at me, eyes dark.  "Sure, go ahead and ignore me, let's see how many more people you hurt in the process.  Because there are people that love you and want the best for you and maybe if you shut your mouth every now and again and listened you wouldn't be in this situation."

I blinked back at Purple Boy shocked.

Purple Boy looked surprised himself, looking horrified.  "I - I'm sorry, I didn't - I - I don't know what - where - I'm sorry," he muttered.  "I didn't mean it."

"No, you did," I ran a hand through my hair.  "You meant it."

Awkward silence bounced between us.

"My parents died just before I turned 21, a car accident with a drunkie," Purple Boy started.  "I was home, watching over my little brother, Ollie.  Ollie was only a couple months old at the time.  I vaguely remember the police coming to the door, breaking the news, giving their condolences.  And I didn't cry, like I thought I would.  My first concern was Ollie, whether they'd take him away from me.  I was terrified that my grandparents were going to take him away, claim that I was in no position to raise a child so early into my adult life.  Plus I still had college, so there was no way I could juggle them all - job, college, and Ollie.  But for some reason they let me keep him, merely saying that I was of age and leaving it at that.

"I raised him for the next six years, until last year... when... when someone I trusted went behind my back and told my homophobic grandparents that I was gay."

I winced at that.

"There was a lawsuit," Purple Boy continued.  "And the judge was a homophobic piece of crap, and long-story-short they took him away from me.  They thought that I was going to 'turn him gay' or something."

"I - I'm so sorry..."

Purple Boy merely shook his head, bangs falling over his eyes.  "They caught me calling him on the phone and then they pushed a restraining order and I had no choice but to cut ties with him completely."

A hand flew over my mouth in horror.  "Oh my stars..."

Purple Boy sighed, digging his hands in his pockets.  "Yup," he said mildly, avoiding eye contact.

"When was the last time you talked to him? Your brother?" I asked quietly and Purple Boy merely shrugged.

"He probably thinks that I abandoned him or something, handed him over to those cruel people..." Purple Boy shook his head quickly, bringing himself back to reality.

"And the person who betrayed you? What happened to them?"

"I broke up with him," Purple Boy said dryly.

A tiny gasp escaped my mouth as I saw the dead look in his eye.  Instinctively, I took a step forward and wrapped my arms around him - a good, tight hug.  For a moment, Purple Boy tensed up at the sudden gesture, but slowly relaxed, even returning it lightly.

"I - I've never told anyone that," Purple Boy said once I pulled back.

"I'm glad that you trusted me to tell me that - I know that it must not have been easy," I said quietly.  "That was very courageous of you, Purple Boy."

Purple boy dodged the compliment, head dropping and bangs falling over his eyes.  "Uh, here's some Advil," he said, holding the pill container out to me.  "And I'll run upstairs and try and find some of my clothes that will fit you."

"Okay," I accepted the pills gratefully.  "Thank you.  For everything, really.  And I'm sorry about what's happened to you and I hope things get better for you, but I'm still not going to Alcoholics Anonymous meeting."

Purple Boy frowned.  "I'll be right back," he commented - ignoring me - before disappearing into what I assumed must be his bedroom, leaving me alone.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair and dropping my head.  Maybe... maybe he was right? No, no I'm fine.  I'm fine.  I don't need help, I just need to - to work, yes.  Keep myself distracted until this - this phase is over.  I'm fine.  I'm fine.  Yeah, I'm fine.

__________

We exited the elevator - with me borrowing one of Purple Boy's long sleeve shirts (which was... well, purple) - to the lobby.  There was only one other person there, an old lady sitting on the other side of the room focused on her puzzle.

"Prince!" a voice said and I looked up just in time for Patton to tackle me with a hug.

"Hey Pat," I said, smiling as he hugged me (somehow) tighter.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" Patton pulled back frowning and pointing his finger at me.  "I was so worried."

"Sorry," I pulled Patton back into a hug.   "I'm sorry for scaring you.  It won't happen again."

Patton pulled back, frowning but his eyes said otherwise, looking concerned.  He didn't comment on my last remark, instead turning to Purple Boy.

"Hiya, kiddo.  Thank you so much," Patton said before hugging him as well.

"Uh -" Purple Boy managed, as he stood there, mouth open in a 'o' of surprise.

Patton finally pulled back, smiling brightly.

"Patton suddenly reached into his pocket grabbing a pen and Purple Boy's hand before writing his number of the back of Purple Boy's hand.  "If you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call, kiddo," Patton said firmly.

"Uh, thanks," Purple Boy returned quietly, eyes darting towards the floor.

And then it was time to leave.

"I'll think about it, what you said," I told Purple Boy, who just nodded in return.

Impulsively, I kneeled down and reached forward to grab Purple Boy's hand and gave it a quick kiss, causing his cheeks to go bright red.  "Until we meet again, my Purple Prince," I said, smiling at his flustered expression.  And if you ever need anything from me, you know where to find me," I winked as got back to my feet.  "And... I'll think about it, what you said.

__________
Point of View: Deceit, First Person
Timeline: Present Day

I raised my hand, holding up the picture I'd taken to Sleep.

"You know this man?" I asked him impatiently.

Sleep lowered his sunglasses, squinting a bit at the picture in the low light of the alleyway, our meeting place.  "Sweetie, I know everyone," Sleep rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. "Of course I know him."

"Who is he?"

"Oo, what'd he do to make you mad?"

"Sleep, I don't have time for this.  Who is he?"

Sleep sighed.  "So impatient.  His name is Roman Sanders."

"Tell me what you know about him."

"Quite a bit actually," Sleep commented.  "Roman Sanders.  Came to the US when he was 19.  He's a legal immigrant from some forgotten spot in the Caribbean.  He's a theater boy, but works full-time at a recording studio.  He's published a little music, but not much.  He also writes fiction books.  Not a best-selling author, but he makes enough to be remotely interesting.  Openly gay -"

"He's gay?" So they actually are seeing each other?

"Of course - and a proud one at that.  Once he dyed his hair full rainbow -"

"Focus, Sleep.  Is he seeing anyone?"

"Not to my knowledge," Sleep took another sip of his coffee and I let out the tiny exhale that I'd been holding.  "He was married though.  He lost his husband four-ish years ago, a man named Thomas Sanders.  He fell of the map for a little while after Thomas died.  But he recently - and by recently I mean last year or so -  took on a role in the Orlando Production of Into the Woods as Prince Charming, which brought him back into spotlight."

"Wait, back up," I waved my hand, cutting Sleep off.  "This Roman guy, he was married? And his husband ended up dying? How?"

"Not sure," Sleep admitted.  "He refuses to talk about it.  Touchy subject, I guess.  But better question,"  Sleep lowered his sunglasses, curiously staring at me - sizing me up.  "Better question, is why you're suddenly so interested in him.  Lemme guess - it has to do with Virgil?"

"Irrelevant," I said, adjusting my gloves and hat.  "Sort of a celebrity you said?  He got an ego?"

"He's an actor - of course he has an ego," Sleep rolled his eyes before replacing his sunglasses.  "So, why you wanna know?"

"I have my reasons," I adjusted my hat.  "I'll see you on Sunday."

"Where are you going? You could at least buy me a coffee for my trouble."

"I think you'll manage," I rolled my eyes.  "Besides, I think it's about time I introduced myself to Mr. Sanders."

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