The truth
The longer the week stretched out, the more eyes seemed to stare at him. Where there used to be respect and awe, he now found shock and judgment. Gossip had worsened too, shared by angels and humans alike. That was extremely disconcerting; he didn’t think anyone outside the board knew about the assignment. Stares found him alone, but lingered much longer when he was with Aiden. Some people went so far as to stop in their tracks, wide-eyed. It made having lunch with Aiden absolutely unbearable.
Aiden glanced over the lattice fence at the residents that stared and whispered. “Bro, are you seeing this?” he asked, plate untouched.
“Yes, it’s pretty much impossible to ignore.” It took all of Nathaniel’s self-control to keep his voice steady as his hands shook, hidden under the table.
“What’s that about?”
“Beats me.” Except there was only one explanation, and the fact that Striker hadn’t shown up in a week was starting to make sense now.
Later that day, while Aiden took karate and the world watched his angel a little less closely, Nathaniel walked up to the reception desk to confirm his suspicions. The receptionist caught sight of him as soon as he rounded the corner; the reaction of the crowd had alerted them. Asking for a piece of paper, he quickly scribbled on it.
What’s going on?
He held the paper out to the receptionist. They glanced up at him once, then at the humans that walked by, and took the paper back.
Do you really not know?
The note was shown with a pointed glance. He wrote his response below that.
Tell me what you know.
The angel tapped the tip of the quill on the desk, unsure where to start. Was it so complicated?
“Don’t be afraid to name drop,” he whispered.
The angel passed him a quick glance before putting the quill to the paper. There’s a rumor that you and your human are romantically involved. I’m sure it’s not the case. Perhaps Aiden’s words were misinterpreted.
The entire building crumbled around him, entombing him in debris. Air no longer reached his lungs. He could barely even see straight, blinded by shock, a tight noose around his throat. The violence with which his heart hammered into his chest was enough to shake him where he stood.
“Aiden told you that?” he asked, almost too quiet to be heard.
The question turned the angel back to the paper in hand, clearly too afraid to speak out loud. Not personally, but he seems to be the instigator. I only know because Jean told me.
Oh no, Jean knew about it too? Had Aiden slipped up while talking to the others in his class, or had he personally told Jean? Had he told Richard, and was that how it’d spread? Well, it didn’t matter; Nathaniel had to shut this down immediately. He’d go to Jean, Richard and Ophelia asking them to keep it within The Valley. It was only a matter of time until everyone forgot about it, anyway. His absence would help. The war would fix everything.
“It’s not true,” he whispered back to the angel, ears muffled, legs about to give out.
Looking up at him, the angel nodded.
On the way to Richard’s office, deep into the bowels of the building, he ran into Aiden and some of his classmates standing in the hallway, chatting after class. The moment his eyes fell on Aiden, he stopped walking, chest burning with the type of fire that he hadn’t felt in a very long time, sinister, dangerous. Aiden laughed in the distance; the sound reached him easily, hands closed into fists. With his jaw set, he marched over. As the group caught sight of him, they took a step back, wide-eyed and shocked. Aiden was the only one who didn’t. His smile softened at the approach, delight written all over him, the instigator. Nathaniel’s blood boiled.
“Can I have a word with you?” he asked, speaking low, far sterner than he’d intended to sound.
Aiden’s smile faltered. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
With a quick glance at his karate classmates, Aiden excused himself and let Nathaniel pull him aside.
His heart hammered fast into his ribs, nails digging into his palms. It was hard to think straight, head full of jumbled thoughts. They needed somewhere private to talk, but in the center of The Resort, that’d be difficult to achieve. Room 201 was too out of the way; he’d boil over halfway there, in front of everyone. No; they’d have to make do with one of the closer rooms. He opened the first door in sight and walked into what seemed to be the men’s locker room. There were only four of them here, surprised to see an angel come in, shocked when they realized who this was. Speaking loudly, Nathaniel asked for the room.
“I’m not done changing,” one of the humans told him.
“This is not a request.” Nathaniel’s voice thundered. “Give us the room.”
Shutting their lockers, they all hurried out.
“What was that for?” Aiden asked as soon as they were alone, a question that fell on deaf ears. All it did was remind Nathaniel of everything he’d just learned. His head pounded.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he practically shouted. It furrowed Aiden’s eyebrows into a scowl. “Why would you tell anyone about us? Do you know how dangerous that is? Do you know what it could do to me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t give me that; you have no right to bullshit me. What you did is inexcusable. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“What? What did I do?”
“Everyone knows about us. Is that what you wanted?”
Aiden’s jaw dropped, eyes as big as the moon. “I didn’t—I didn’t do that. I didn’t do anything.”
A fist promptly met with one of the lockers, making Aiden jump. “Do not lie to me,” Nathaniel shouted, teeth gritting.
“I’m not lying! I didn’t do anything!”
His palms stung with how tightly he squeezed his fists, arms shaking. Aiden would never admit it. Once a liar, always a liar; he should’ve known it from the start. He should’ve seen this coming. “We’re done,” he announced, lower now. His fist dropped, knuckles aching. “This is over. I can’t afford any suspicion right now; my career is on the line. My entire fucking life is on the line. You don’t see it because you have nothing to lose, but I do. I’ve put too much at risk. What you did…” His throat closed. “I thought I knew you.” Shaking his head, he made to leave.
“Wait.” Aiden tried to take his arm, but Nathaniel promptly pulled away.
“Don’t.”
“Nathaniel, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I didn’t say anything to anyone; I’d never do that. You know me.”
That unashamed kiss in the hallway, the endless research, how Aiden had gone behind his back to speak about him—Nathaniel didn’t know him at all. Shaking his head, he made to circle Aiden for the door, only for Aiden to grab his arm again and this time get shoved on the chest.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking talk to me. I should’ve never fallen for your bullshit.”
As he made for the door, Aiden took a step closer, eyes shining with tears. “Don’t do this.”
Despite everything, the dagger in his heart still twisted, a pain worse than any battle wound. He made for the door again.
“Please,” Aiden choked, voice breaking. “This is all a misunderstanding.”
It took everything he had not to turn around. He left to a shout of his own name, echoed through sobs that pierced his heart and cut a chunk right out. Maybe the test was resisting Aiden and his attempts to break protocol, which Nathaniel had failed miserably. Aiden had played dirty from the very start, and in retrospect, Nathaniel should’ve played dirtier.
His head pounded, adrenaline traveling through his veins—he needed a drink. At 201, he poured himself half a glass of whiskey and took a seat in the nearest armchair. A deep breath filled his lungs, his best attempt at calming down. The whiskey burned down his throat, heart slowly coming back to normal. Finished with this glass, he poured another, mind completely empty, not thinking of anything, aiming for inner peace. Absently, he leaned back on the armchair and stared at the room, how softly the summer breeze blew through the drapery that hung from the canopy, how beautifully the afternoon sun shone on the furniture, warm, burnt orange.
Memories put him on the bed, lying on his back with an arm under his own head, wings spread across the mattress, blissfully unaware. So what if Aiden pushed him into The Abyss? He’d love him forever. He’d love him forever. The hole in his heart quivered, trying to close, trying to make itself whole again. Aiden’s ghost touched his waist and kissed down his chest, singing him praises, embroidering those three words in every look, in every smile, for his private viewing. He watched himself run a hand through Aiden’s hair, letting Aiden touch him in return, softly, expertly, making him shiver. His eyes squeezed shut. The second glass of whiskey burned down his throat. He would not cry.
Through the receptionist, he learned that Richard’s office was located on the right side of The Resort, where nature climbed up the walls and silence was only broken by the rustling of leaves, not too far from the art studio, which Aiden had given up going to. He just wasn’t that kind of person, a lover of math and science, far more interested in sports than art. Fencing was what he was good at, but karate had slowly started to climb the ranks. Nathaniel’s heart ached—it didn’t matter now.
The door to Richard’s office was wide open, but he didn’t walk right in, knocking on the frame instead. Richard sat at a large mahogany desk with files to his left and letters to his right. Next to the desk were a padded chair, a footstool and a chaise lounge, where Nathaniel guessed his sessions took place. He pictured Aiden sitting on the chaise as if it were a chair, refusing to lie down for a therapist, even if the man happened to be sitting away from him. A quick word from Richard broke through his thoughts. He put some papers away as Nathaniel approached.
“I’m sure you’re aware of the rumors,” Nathaniel started, taking a seat across from him. Richard eyed him impassively, eyebrows bouncing. “You have access to everyone’s innermost secrets, after all. Dare I say you knew of it before everybody else? Heard it from the source, maybe?”
“I take it the rumors are true, then.” Richard glanced him down, a scowl slowly forming on his forehead. “It would explain the dullness of your skin.”
“The circumstances around that are extremely delicate and completely unrelated. My piety should never be questioned. How could you believe in something so preposterous? It could ruin me.”
“That’s probably its intent. I don’t see why such a vile rumor would ever have sprouted otherwise.”
“So that’s what he wanted,” Nathaniel scoffed, shaking his head. “I should’ve known. God, I should’ve known.”
“Are you talking about Aiden?”
“Who else could it be? You’re his primary physician; you must’ve known it first. You could’ve spread it yourself.”
“And why would I do that? What vendetta do I have against you, Archangel?”
“You tell me, doctor.”
With a deep scowl on his forehead, Richard leaned back, hands laced together over his lap.
“Aiden never told me anything. I heard of it just like everybody else, and before you jump to conclusions, I want you to remember where we are. This is a place of healing; what kind of professional would I be if my interests conflicted with that message? I certainly would have no place working here.”
“Surely, if Aiden had told you something so barbaric, you would’ve informed me in your letters. Or do you only share what benefits you?”
“Given the seriousness of those allegations, I would probably have called you into my office and told you in person. I have nothing to hide. The peace and safety of Paradise is what truly matters to me.”
A breath left his lungs. So Richard was innocent, after all. That shifted suspicion over to Ophelia, who hadn’t managed a single breakthrough with Aiden despite giving him classes every other day. It was true that Richard had also not made any considerable progress, but his sessions were few and far in between. How was it that she hadn’t even made friends with Aiden?
Parting from Richard, Nathaniel left for the gymnasium. Stares and gossip found him just as fiercely as if he walked with Aiden, which meant their locker room quarrel must have already become public knowledge. He briefly wondered where Aiden was and if he’d been getting the same treatment from the crowd. It was very possible that every resident hated him now, but once he was off to war, none of this will have mattered.
In Ophelia’s corner of the gym, he walked up to what must’ve been the end of a class; the hallway swam with students that threw him dirty glances as they passed him by. He waited by the door. Once they’d all left, he went in.
Ophelia caught sight of him right away, eyes bright with recognition, a friendly smile on her face. Her generally welcoming attitude told him she was probably not the one who’d started the rumor, if she even knew about it. She probably did and the fact that hadn’t changed how she felt about him meant she must not have believed in it. Good.
“How can I help you?” she asked around a smile, delighted by his presence. The only one to feel that way.
“Have you heard the rumors?” he asked, low and secretive. Her discreet nod was all the response he needed to continue. “The shock it’s created is understandable, and I don’t blame you for feeling similarly about it, but I’m sure my reputation speaks for itself when it comes to allegations like this. You know how I am.”
“I didn’t believe it for a second. I still don’t.”
“I take it your beloved student didn’t tell you anything either.”
“No; we’re not that close. I know he’s infatuated with someone, but I’d never think it would be you. That’s just ridiculous.”
Infatuated, huh.
“Have you talked to him yet?”
“Not about that. If I’m being frank, I’m not sure what to say. How do you go about asking someone about a rumor that concerns them?”
“Just pull him aside and ask why he’d do it.”
“Oh, I don’t think he would. He’s very private for how talkative he can be.”
“Something he said could’ve been misinterpreted.”
“Maybe, but even then, I don’t think he did it on purpose. That just isn’t like him.”
That comment bothered him.
At 201, he poured himself another glass and took a seat at his desk. A couple of unread folders were pushed aside, blank pages before him. What Ophelia said was true; Aiden was an extremely private person. He’d barely even talked to the other residents, dismissing their friendships entirely. He could talk about sports and stock exchange for as long as his company would let him, but didn’t necessarily share any details about himself. It was difficult to imagine a scenario where he’d accidentally elude to their relationship in such an outrageous way that his non-friends would have no choice but to run with it.
A sip from the glass and he took the quill from the desk, running it over a blank page.
Jean,
It would be of great benefit if the information that has reached you doesn’t travel across the valley. I’m sure you understand the fragility of the situation and the reason it doesn’t hold any water. The source is inconsequential as long as we keep what we know to ourselves, so stop spreading it. You don’t want me to do it for you.
Best regards,
Nathaniel
The source was not inconsequential, but the only thing he could think of. If Aiden hadn’t purposefully started the rumor, then who had? The whiskey burned his stomach, empty glass on the desk as he folded the letter in thirds. Jean had told the receptionist, and possibly many, many others, but who had told him first? Slipping the letter into an envelope, Nathaniel left the room for the mailbox outside The Resort. It was late; the sun was gone and the sky shone with stars, meaning the letter would only get delivered tomorrow morning, but it was fine. He found it hard to believe Jean would gather the angels and tell them about it rather than go home and rest tonight.
A light breeze blew, rustling the top leaves of the tallest trees. Maybe he should talk to Aiden. His heart skipped at the mere thought, anxious to see him again, impatient to take his hand, have a seat and listen to his defense, because he’d definitely not given him a chance to share his side of the story in the locker room. Aiden deserved an apology. He had a pretty solid hunch of Aiden’s whereabouts, but still consulted the closest fountain. As it turned out, his suspicions were right.
The club Aiden liked was just as packed tonight as it had been three weeks ago, blaring music and neon bracelets; makeup and shutter shades. The angel working the bar eyed Nathaniel as soon as he walked in, watching his approach with suspicion. He had no idea what Aiden had told this man, but it’d been impactful. No one in his immediate surroundings was wearing a full karate uniform, letting him know, from a single glance, that Aiden wasn’t around, so he circled the crowd and approached the bar.
The angel that watched him came right over, with no need to call him. The crowd’s disinterest in him meant the rumor hadn’t reached this corner of the valley yet, so why did this bartender hate him so much?
“Do you know where Aiden is?” Nathaniel shouted over the music, trying to sound as polite as possible. The bartender gave him a skeptical look in response—he had failed.
“He’s with somebody else,” the angel informed him, a hint of delight in his voice. Nathaniel’s pulse raced—of course Aiden would be with somebody else. While that didn’t surprise him, it still hurt to hear. Actually, it felt like a punch in the throat. Aiden moved on fast.
“No duh. Where are they?”
“In the men’s room.”
Right. Of course.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” The warning was spoken around a half-smirk that just was a little too cocky for his taste, and if this weren’t the least of his problems right now, he might’ve set the record straight.
“Thanks,” he responded, curt and dry before leaving.
The closest restroom was just down the hall. The black door blended in with the rest of the club, closed, directly before him. The word men glowed in capital letters. His heart raced, hands growing cold. He knew exactly what he was about to walk in on and still found himself unable to do it, hesitating to reach for the handle. He’d barge in on the two of them, and then what? Have a nice, calm, adult conversation? Aiden had already been found; shouldn’t he be going home now?
Music boomed, shaking his rib cage. Did he know the other guy? If he walked in right now, would he recognize the faces behind the door? He couldn’t leave without the answer to that. It was a bad excuse to cover up the fact he just wanted to interrupt them. Aiden against the wall, hands under his shirt, pants down to his knees—Nathaniel’s throat closed. Were they kissing, was Aiden liking it? Assuming the bartender hadn’t lied about this. The guy openly despised him; this might just be a cruel joke. There was a chance of walking into absolutely nothing.
He shouldn’t do this. Still, he touched the handle and opened the door. Seeing Aiden on his knees didn’t surprise him, but what he hadn’t expected was Blaz with his back against the wall and a hand on Aiden’s head, fingers in his hair. Their eyes met the moment Nathaniel walked in. The shock that coursed through his soul grew roots into the ground below, shaking his very core, eyes wider than he’d ever felt them. The door slammed shut behind him; he barely heard it. Aiden pulled away to glance back at him.
He knew Aiden was as shocked to see him as he was to see Blaz; he didn’t need to look at him. He couldn’t; his eyes were fixed on Blaz and the slow smirk that widened his lips, sharp and vile.
“Nathaniel, I—” Aiden sputtered while getting up to his feet, in Nathaniel’s peripherals.
“I’m surprised it took you this long to find us. Is The Resort giving you more trouble than it should? Are people talking too much?” Condescending and smug, Blaz’s voice fed the pit in his chest like prey to hungry wolves, purposefully trying to make his blood boil.
Suddenly, it all clicked.
“It was you. You started the rumors.” Nathaniel spoke absently, not registering his own words. “Aiden had nothing to do with it.”
“Of course not!” Aiden shouted, a blur in the corner of his eye.
Blaz grinned. “You know, I’ve been getting really into theatrics since Salus replaced me. I have a lot of time on my hands, after all, I no longer have a job. People barely recognize me anymore. They see that gorgeous wreath on your head and think I passed it down upon my death. Did you know that? They think I’m gone. They hear my name and give me their condolences.”
“You ruined my life,” Nathaniel whispered, hands trembling. The fire in his chest consumed his entire body.
“You ruined mine first. Welcome to the fucking club.”
Without a single thought in his mind, Nathaniel charged towards Blaz and lunged, attacking him with fists that never connected. Their names filled the air, but he wasn’t thinking, brain clouded by the red that blinded his eyes and boiled in his veins, knuckles hitting whatever they could, breath like knives in his lungs. His superior by a long shot, Blaz deflected his attacks and cut holes in his defense, pushing his arms away to open him for counters, hard-hitting, that knocked the breath out of him. Arms were twisted, wrists were grabbed. A fist found his face and whiplash left him open for restraint; arms pulled behind his back, held tightly by the wrists. Half of the world was pitch black, although both of his eyes were wide open.
“You trusted him!” Blaz shouted right in his ear, holding him tight.
Aiden stood directly in front of him, eyes big and shocked, holding both palms up, either in surrender or a silent plea for peace. Nathaniel tried not to move, breathing ragged, head pounding.
Blaz continued, lower this time, calmer. “You let him in and this is how he repays you. He’s been using you for weeks. You mean nothing to him.”
Staring at Aiden, the dark half of the world slowly began to come back to him, like a cloak lifted from his face. His throat closed tight.
“That’s not true,” Aiden quickly defended, eyebrows digging deep into his forehead, tilted upwards. “I was just upset, I—”
“You’re the assignment, Nathaniel. You thought it was the other way around, but it isn’t. The Oracle filled him in on day one. He got here knowing exactly what he was supposed to do to you, and he did it so well you can’t even see how expertly he played you.”
“He’s lying!” Aiden shouted, desperate.
“You know he doesn’t belong here; he never did. He was sent up with a purpose, to give you the ultimate challenge. This was your only chance to prove just how pure you really are. Do you protect Paradise for its own sake, or is it because that wreath looks good on your head? Does it make you look down on others, too proud of yourself and your own achievements to take criticism? Proud enough to break the rules and commit a series of sins thinking you’re above it all? Aiden’s been lying to you since the beginning. We chose him for a reason.”
“Nathaniel, listen; I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t know it was supposed to be you; I didn’t even know who you were. I wanted to know you better, to understand why we were doing this to you. I didn’t know about Zea or the war or what happened to Blaz; I was just doing what I had to. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Aiden spoke fast, eyes filling up with tears, and the noose around his throat tightened, choking him alive.
“You’re in on this.” Words left him absently. The hole in his heart bled. “I defended you.”
“I stopped when I met the real you,” Aiden continued, tears spilling down his face. “I didn’t wanna do it anymore. When you held me the other night… I meant what I said, what I feel for you.”
His determination slowly died. Any half-baked plans to headbutt Blaz in the nose for a messy escape evaporated from his bloodstream, shoulders dropping, muscles relaxing. Everything between them had been a lie.
“I love you,” Aiden concluded, stabbing him right through the chest.
“Outstanding performance,” Blaz commented from behind him. The restraint loosened. “Zea told us he’d be the one.”
“Zea?”
The moment that name left his lips, the world went black.
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