The Bond

EXTRA 1

-1995-

Ennard stared at Michael who was looking in the mirror with a deep frown, he watched how Michael put foundation on his face. "Are you sure the makeup isn't expired?"

"Even if it's already expired, nothing will happen to me," Michael replied lightly, before smoothing the foundation over his face to cover up a quarter of his rotting skin. They found his mother's old makeup kit yesterday and he wanted to try it. "I'm dead, what are you worried about?"

"You're so stubborn." Ennard sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "Why not just buy a new one? After all, you found the bank passbook your father made for you."

A small grunt could be heard from Michael who was now busy powdering his face. "What was he thinking by putting that file in that place?" His brow furrowed, as if he didn't understand his father's way of thinking.

"Safety."

"It's safe indeed if you put it in bed cot," Michael sneered. "He gave me quite a lot of money, I'll at least thank him a little."

Ennard didn't reply to Michael's words after that. The rotting skin of his face had slowly faded, he was actually quite surprised that Michael was able to do some makeup. Then he looked towards the open door, his ears picking up the sound of footsteps from outside the house. He stood up, Michael glanced briefly at him as he stepped over to the curtained window. He parted the curtains a little to peek at who dared to enter the yard.

Presumably he didn't believe it a bit, his eyes half-rounded.

"What is it?" Michael asked confused, he turned off the room light because he felt that this matter was important enough that Ennard looked outside the house and he didn't want anyone to know this house was still lived in.

"Your friend."

"Friend?" Michael's eyebrows knit together—who? Mark is dead, Alec and he have lost contact, while Simon; "Simon?"

His lover just nodded, then stepped away from the window. Right after he did that, his doorbell rang. Michael was quite relieved he was trying on make-up on his face so he didn't have to wear an eyepatch. Michael grabbed a nearby blue contact lens and put it on quickly, then he grabbed a medical mask.

"Enn, you wait here," Michael said to the man before leaving the room.

Ennard was silent for a moment, then transformed into an animatronic and opened an air vent in the ceiling, then jumped in.

Michael came down the stairs quickly, a bit scared and confused about what brought Simon to his house. He couldn't deny that he was happy to see his old friend again, but he felt like an asshole for leaving them after that incident. Simon could've been mad at him, like how Mark was mad about that too. Even if it were true, he wouldn't blame Simon. Michael exhaled slowly, he had arrived at the door and readied himself.

He turned the knob and pulled it, Simon was standing opposite him. He hadn't seen him like this in a long time, Simon was now taller than him, looked calmer and more mature.

"Abraham," he said, his tone was ... curt and stiff. "What do you want?"

The dark-skinned man in front of him did not answer for a while. "Terrance." He flinched briefly at the name, but tried not to correct it. "How are you?" A question for small talk.

"I'm sick," he replied shortly.

"Oh, that's why you look paler than usual."

Michael felt nauseous hearing that, Simon realized it easily. He glanced away briefly. "Yes, what's up?" He could feel a pair of eyes watching him. "You wouldn't have come without a reason, would you?"

Simon seemed to hold his breath for a moment, then his brown eyes shifted the other way slowly as he sighed. "Correct." He murmured. "I want to convey something."

"About?"

"Mark."

His shoulders tensed, Michael quickly pushed himself away from the door—a gesture that Simon needed to enter the house. Simon hesitated a moment, but he stepped inside, and Michael closed the door tightly. He took a few deep breaths, then looked back at Simon. "What's wrong with him?"

Play nice, act like a fool.

"Mark, is dead," Simon paused, "since last year."

He knew it, last year Ennard killed him.

"Sorry I just informed you by now," Simon said quietly as his gaze lowered. "Someone killed him."

"Who?"

"There are no eyewitnesses." Simon shook his head.

"What about surveillance cameras?"

"They just installed surveillance cameras because of that incident, so no one knows what really happened."

That's a good thing, Michael tried not to smile.

"I'm so sorry," Michael said as he glanced the other way, trying to sound guilty after hearing the news. He was slightly taken aback when Simon tapped him on the shoulder, as if calming him.

"I'll be going now," Simon said. "Actually, I'm going to move to another city."

He was more surprised by the information. "Why?"

Simon's smile was quite sad. "This place is too painful." That was all he said, Michael was stunned for a while and watched at Simon who opened the door and then walked out.

Michael closed the door quietly, Simon's words started to flash in his mind. He couldn't blame Simon, the old memories that were in this town were starting to turn hurtful for all of them. He exhaled slowly as he took off his mask, then threw it carelessly in the other direction. His hands folded in front of his chest, he felt guilty for what happened in the past now, he felt uneasy.

Then a pair of iron arms pulled him back and embraced him, he found Ennard tilting his head at him. He smiled faintly. "You're such an eavesdropper."

"You okay?"

"Not really."

"Ice cream?"

He nodded. "Sounds fun, let's have some ice cream." He let go of Ennard's embrace and headed towards the kitchen happily, while Ennard followed behind as usual.

"That contact lens you're wearing isn't expired, is it?"

"Why are you so worried that everything might be expired?"

"Because it could hurt you."

Michael glared at Ennard briefly. "I really appreciate your concern, darling," he said amusedly as he chuckled, briefly kissing Ennard on the cheek. "I will be fine."

"You sure."

"Just eat your ice cream and stop worrying about me."

"Okay."