One Of Us

Chapter One

The first few hours after filming a video were always the quietest. Each side retreated into their respective rooms for a moment's rest before the editing began and kicked them all back into high gear. It was a period that allowed them a short while to be truly alone — no work to do, no interruptions. This was a peaceful time, one that Virgil in particular appreciated greatly.

He spent most of these liminal minutes perched on his bed, one leg folded beneath him, with a pair of headphones draped over his ears. Sometimes it was a loud song, sometimes it was a soft one, sometimes it was just the sound of rain; anything to decompress and get himself out of his head for a while.

Today, he needed this time more than ever. Seeing Deceit so close up had shaken him more than he would have liked to admit — but that didn't matter right now. This was his chance to be alone, to think, to breathe.

That's what he thought it would be, at least.

The first thing he noticed was a chill in the air; dramatic, unnecessary, and all too familiar. He tore the headphones from his ears and dropped them onto the bed, jumping to his feet and staring warily across the room. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't.

"Hello?" he called, hoping against hope that he was wrong.

He watched, frozen, as the silver knob turned and the door eased open.

"Virgil," came the voice on the other side of it, silky smooth and malignant. "It really has been too long."

"Don't," Virgil growled. "Don't call me that. Don't even try."

The voice's owner unfurled itself from the shadows like a cloud of smoke, a grin spread across his serpentine face. "Why not?" he asked. "I was the first you trusted with that name. I think I've earned my right to use it."

"Yeah?" Virgil said, his hands curling into fists. "Well, your right has officially been revoked. You're not welcome here anymore."

"Unfortunate," Deceit said. He strode closer to the other Side, and each step he took forward was countered by an infinitesimal step back. "I thought you'd want to chat."

"You thought wrong." Virgil tried his hardest to stand his ground, but the closer the snake came, the more he wanted to turn tail and run.

"Surely you've missed me," Deceit went on, finally drawing to a halt a few feet away from his counterpart. "I've missed you terribly."

"Get out of my room," Virgil said in as menacing a tone as he could manage. He straightened up, aiming to intimidate, but the only response it earned him was oily laughter.

"How precious," Deceit lilted, his voice pure syrup. "If you really don't want me, I suppose I'll be going..." He gestured toward the door, and it almost seemed like he planned to stick to his word.

"Wait," Virgil said, holding up a hand and hating himself for it. "What — what do you want?"

A smirk tugged at Deceit's lips. "Just to talk," he assured the other. "Nothing more."

A beat.

"...about what?"

"Plenty of things," Deceit said, swiveling slowly on his heel to take in his surroundings. "How you've been getting on without me, for example." He paused. Arched an eyebrow. "Quite well, I presume."

Virgil bit down hard on his lip and was greeted by the tinny taste of blood. "I've been great," he grumbled, "thanks for asking. Why are you really here?"

A long, timed-out silence. Deceit took a short stroll around the room, sliding a finger along dressers and shelves as though he was checking for dust. He circled the place once, then twice; there was a dangerous glint in his eye that Virgil was too preoccupied to catch.