Ode to Remedy

Act VIII

Valentine steered down the road with one hand, propping himself against the car window with his other. Lonely lampposts loomed over the quiet road, casting brief light over the roof of his car whenever he passed under. He reached over and turned his radio on, providing him with nothing but mere noise in an attempt to distract himself from the busy night he was currently returning from. He let out a sigh. Was he ready to face Markus again? The thought of his lover's sorrowful, begging brown eyes flashed in his head, then the touch of his soft palms against Val, warming his sides. Though he couldn't tell whether it was from his own mind playing tricks on him or the exasperation beginning to burn inside of him. He was not, Valentine decided, but he continued home nevertheless.

His arms ached with the exhaustion of stirring drinks and cleaning glasses. He shot a glance to the clock dimly illuminating his car in the dash. 1:46. He arched an eyebrow and returned his attention to the dark road ahead. Valentine thankfully had the earlier shift, despite how late it was itself. The bar stayed open almost all night nearly every Friday due to its mass popularity. People crowded themselves inside until there was hardly room to walk without grazing against someone else's shoulders, and they drank until they couldn't meet someone's eye without the malicious urge to stir up trouble. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. How people staggered into another, drenched in their own sweat, stained by their vomit, or even their own drinks due to the lack of capability to achieve something as simple as holding a glass. It made Val cringe. And although he despised the vileness of the drink, it stung in the back of his throat, its scent constantly filling his nostrils.

His coworker, Percy, had knocked on the doorframe just before entering, in case he'd startle Val.

"Leaving so soon?" He asked, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned against the wall. His blonde hair was matted, due to the sweat of having to rush around, but his blue eyes continued to glow with his usual smug vitality.

"Yeah," Val replied, shooting a smirk over his shoulder as he gathered his things. "Luckily I didn't get caught with the late-late shift like you,"

He and his coworkers shared the term 'late-late', as all of their shifts were late regardless of how short they were.

"Luckily," He scoffed, his voice jokingly envious. "Expect some gossip when you return tomorrow, Alison ́s flirting with the customers,"

"Again," They sighed in unison.

"She appears to be rewarding herself for a hard day's work with a little liquor." Percy rebuked.

"The customers or ours?"

"Ours. Might get herself fired this time."

"Ha, like this isn't the first time you said that," Valentine grinned, throwing his bag over his shoulder. He then brushed past Percy with a call. "I'm gone. See you,"

"Stay careful," Percy spun on his heel to watch him
head off. "Wish me luck for the rest of the night."

"Perseus!" A disembodied voice barked from the bar. "We need twelve Smirnoff vodka shots! Stop wasting time!"

Percy shot an irritated glance at Val and held a handgun to his own head. Valentine laughed and jokingly rose two fingers to his forehead in a salute as he pushed the door open with his back. The crisp night air refreshingly welcomed him as he stepped outside and began off down the sidewalk to his parked car.

He leant forwards to adjust the radio once more, making it louder. If only Valentine could take Percy's shift for the night, for his coworker had no idea how much Val dreaded returning to his apartment.
Turning the steering wheel, his car pulled into the parking lot of their complex. He pushed the stick shift into park and sat there for what felt like an hour. The breeze of the cool outside drifted through the ajar windows and chilled his arms, eventually urging him to remove his seemingly stuck grip from the shift and leave to warm in the apartment. He crossed his arms in an attempt to shield himself from the cool wind that had picked up as made his way to the front door.

Val froze right before he reached the apartment intercom and stared at the button. He hesitated before he reached to press it, as if the shiny black number 7 was mocking him for his indecisiveness, and at last he squeezed his eyes shut as he jammed his finger into it.

The speaker rung out, jerking at his heart every time is paused, then washing over him with relief when it began to ring again. Worry began growing inside of him when the call finally ended, beeping three times to confirm its conclusion. He pressed the button once more, only for another missed response.

He pressed it again, and spoke quietly into it. "Markus, hello? Are you there?"
He expected no response, but he paused for one anyway.
He sighed when he was proven right. "I'm really sorry I snapped earlier, I just wanted to get my point across to you. I-I didn't intend to hurt your feelings or offend you or anything, I do tend to mess up at things like this, don't I?" Val forced a laugh despite his hands shaking at his sides.
Was Markus really this mad?
"You don't have to let me in, it's okay, I can give you a few minutes?" There was still no response. He glanced around, as if he were being watched by judgemental eyes. His worry grew. "Markus? Can I come in?" Silence.
"I'm coming in." He gathered the courage to announce, then pressed the button once more to end the call.

He slipped his keys from his pocket and pushed the door open. His legs trembled as he bounded up the stairs and hurried to his door. He pressed his knuckle against its wooden surface, but didn't knock. He paused. Was Markus inside? Was he okay? He pushed open the door after unlocking it, and was surprised to enter a dark kitchen. Was he in bed? Markus typically spent the weekends staying up laughing at all the lowest rated movies he could find. The messy couch that from their previous brush was now unoccupied, where Markus usually would be sprawled upon at this time. He would let out a call whenever he heard the front door open, as Valentine always returned from work with a whimper from the long night.

Valentine flicked the lights on, only to reveal an empty room. His heart melted.  

"Markus?" He called, but his voice broke just as it escaped his lips. He trailed the room silently, aware that no one's presence accompanied him, just as he wished someone would. He glanced around, his heart heavy with the hope that Markus would be somewhere he just didn't see at first. Val braced himself to enter the bedroom, not because Markus would be there doing something forlornly woeful, but that he'd not be there, and not safe in their home, where even though he'd be upset, Valentine would know for certain that he was secure under Val's attentive watch. He only received his yearning answer when the door creaked open at his hand, revealing a dark, silent room.

Warm tears began to spill down his cheeks at the divulgence, only because he predicted it would happen. He fell upon the bed, not even bothering to flick the lights on. In his heart, he retracted all the things he had shouted at Markus about in their previous meeting, even if he continued to feel that the things he said were true. Valentine doubled over, gasping for the air that never entered his throat, his violent sobs turning into chokes.
He could learn to shut up. He could learn never to speak of Markus's flaw, for Markus would always remain happy that way. His one flaw. He was perfect compared to Valentine. His hands rose to his neck, his fingers curling around his collar. His lover could be gone, he could've left Valentine for someone better. His hands proceeded to rise to his chin, where he dug his nails into his skin. He could've left Valentine permanently. His car wasn't in the lot, was it? Perhaps Markus wasn't sharing anything with him because he didn't have anything to share. Perhaps he was so flawless that he simply didn't need to discuss anything with anybody! Would Markus make up lies only to satisfy Valentine then, only to make Valentine feel as if he weren't as much as an anchor if they were both equally fucked up? Would it satisfy him to listen to his lover's perfidious lies constantly?

Would he know?

Valentine's palms then pressed over his mouth, as if to seal away his anguished sobs from proceeding to escape his throat. His tears soaked the back of his hands and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Was Valentine already becoming an unaware victim to Markus's poisonous lies? Had he already been falling in love with the virulent deception spoke through lilted words?

For how long?