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geovikiThe final formatting is proceeding apace, so I'm posting part 4 tonight, ahead of the game. I don't think anyone will think less of me.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Daniel rummaged through his oversized bag, shoving aside the latest issues of OK! and Elle magazines, his favorite leather gloves, an empty Bassett's Allsorts bag, a red folding umbrella, his best scissors, a thick programme from his niece's Christmas concert months ago, a tube of Neutrogena hand cream, and a handful of loose change, but he didn't find what he was looking for. It wasn't until he'd gone through everything twice more that he remembered slipping the letter into the zippered outer pocket.
He thought it rather clever of him to wait to open Jeremy's letter until he was at the studio. The last one he'd read left him so furious and upset that he'd pitched a tantrum and ended up breaking a faux-Tiffany lamp that he'd been fond of. Here, among his friends and co-workers, he would be forced to behave himself. Well, somewhat.
He took a steadying breath and tore open the envelope.
Stupid fucking fucker. Leave it to him to bring everything down to money. What the hell did it matter who paid for the dogs? He felt the familiar grip in the back of his throat and sting behind his eyes, but he would not let himself cry. Not here.
To take his mind off the violent things he imagined doing to Jeremy, he made himself watch the photo shoot. Of course, that mostly meant ogling Draco Malfoy, who was looking especially edible in a black wool jacket and a black shirt. Unbuttoned. He'd recently let himself develop a bit of a crush on Draco, not that he had any hope of taking it anywhere. A pity, really – few male models were actually gay, although people assumed that they all were. If there ever came a time, though, when Draco was available, Daniel swore he wouldn't waste a second.
Draco and Harry always seemed so mesmerized with each other, though, when they weren't quarreling, and Daniel had to admit they made a cute – and very mysterious – couple. Draco was even more closemouthed about Harry than he was about himself, although once he'd let slip that Harry's past was more fucked-up than his own, and that was saying something. No amount of teasing could make Draco reveal anything more.
Neither of them had ever wholly explained that business about Draco's long silence, either, although he got the impression that Draco had done something noble and heroic for Harry. There were other big gaps in Draco's history, too, that drove Daniel to become a little nosy. He'd managed to work out a few things on his own. For one thing, Draco, who had no family to speak of, was tangled up in some inheritance problems that tended to set him on edge. Last week, after a visit to his solicitor, he'd come back to the studio in a foul mood and got into a screaming match with Beatrice, calling her a mudblood bitch. After hearing that fanciful word, Daniel decided that Draco must write poetry in his spare time.
He'd have to try out the new epithet on Jeremy. That dognapping, greedy, cheap, heartless, mudblood prick.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Prologue Part 5
Daniel rummaged through his oversized bag, shoving aside the latest issues of OK! and Elle magazines, his favorite leather gloves, an empty Bassett's Allsorts bag, a red folding umbrella, his best scissors, a thick programme from his niece's Christmas concert months ago, a tube of Neutrogena hand cream, and a handful of loose change, but he didn't find what he was looking for. It wasn't until he'd gone through everything twice more that he remembered slipping the letter into the zippered outer pocket.
He thought it rather clever of him to wait to open Jeremy's letter until he was at the studio. The last one he'd read left him so furious and upset that he'd pitched a tantrum and ended up breaking a faux-Tiffany lamp that he'd been fond of. Here, among his friends and co-workers, he would be forced to behave himself. Well, somewhat.
He took a steadying breath and tore open the envelope.
Daniel,
Look, I know this isn't easy for you. It's not easy for me, either. But that's no reason for you to make things so ugly. It would be nice if we could keep some good memories of the past three years and not ruin things with petty fights.
You agreed when you moved out that it would be better for the dogs to stay in the only home they ever knew. I don't see why you're changing your mind now. Your flat is much too small for three dogs - even if you were allowed to have pets, which I doubt. I shouldn't have to remind you that I paid for them in the first place. Plus, there'd be no one to take them out for a walk when you run off to the bars straight from work. And bloody hell, Daniel, no way can you pay a lawyer to fight me for them, so I don't know why you even bothered to threaten me with that. It's not like they're our kids. Get a grip!
I'll let you visit them only if you agree not to make a damned scene like last time. I can take them over to Dorothy's and you can get them from her. Then we wouldn't have to run into each other. It's too bad you can't behave like an adult. People break up all the time and get along afterwards. But you've always been such a drama queen, in all senses of the word.
Jeremy
Stupid fucking fucker. Leave it to him to bring everything down to money. What the hell did it matter who paid for the dogs? He felt the familiar grip in the back of his throat and sting behind his eyes, but he would not let himself cry. Not here.
To take his mind off the violent things he imagined doing to Jeremy, he made himself watch the photo shoot. Of course, that mostly meant ogling Draco Malfoy, who was looking especially edible in a black wool jacket and a black shirt. Unbuttoned. He'd recently let himself develop a bit of a crush on Draco, not that he had any hope of taking it anywhere. A pity, really – few male models were actually gay, although people assumed that they all were. If there ever came a time, though, when Draco was available, Daniel swore he wouldn't waste a second.
Draco and Harry always seemed so mesmerized with each other, though, when they weren't quarreling, and Daniel had to admit they made a cute – and very mysterious – couple. Draco was even more closemouthed about Harry than he was about himself, although once he'd let slip that Harry's past was more fucked-up than his own, and that was saying something. No amount of teasing could make Draco reveal anything more.
Neither of them had ever wholly explained that business about Draco's long silence, either, although he got the impression that Draco had done something noble and heroic for Harry. There were other big gaps in Draco's history, too, that drove Daniel to become a little nosy. He'd managed to work out a few things on his own. For one thing, Draco, who had no family to speak of, was tangled up in some inheritance problems that tended to set him on edge. Last week, after a visit to his solicitor, he'd come back to the studio in a foul mood and got into a screaming match with Beatrice, calling her a mudblood bitch. After hearing that fanciful word, Daniel decided that Draco must write poetry in his spare time.
He'd have to try out the new epithet on Jeremy. That dognapping, greedy, cheap, heartless, mudblood prick.
Prologue Part 5
