Chapter Twenty

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Perhaps leaving Anderson's place at stupid o'clock in the morning wasn't the best idea, but how could I stay there after what just happened? How could I sleep in his bed after I embarrassed us both like that? I need to give him space, and I need to give myself space too. That was bad, and I'm starting to find it hard to forgive myself for all the bad things that happen when Anderson and I are together.

The air is insanely cold as I scurry through the empty streets of Kensington. I have to rack my brain to try and remember where the hell the nearest tube station is.

I curse to myself for not taking more notice earlier in the night, but, let's be honest, I never thought I would be having to navigate myself through the pitch black streets on my own at this time. I shake my head at the ridiculousness of all of this, and stop by a street corner to take out my phone.

Several missed calls and a text from Anderson fills the screen:

Please, come back. I don't like the idea of you out in the streets at this time. You can have my bed and I'll sleep downstairs. Please, let's forget what happened tonight.

I pinch my fingers to the bridge of my nose, but I ignore the message. I can't be going back and forth with Anderson right now. I just want to get home, and I need to give him space. This isn't good for either of us.

Sighing, I swipe open Google Maps and follow the surprisingly short route to the tube station. My phone didn't stop buzzing the whole time, but I have to focus on getting home right now, not trying to convince Anderson that everything's okay. Because quite frankly, it isn't. But I will fix that in time.

The welcome yet humid air of the empty platform somewhat soothes my nerves, and after learning that the next train is still twenty minutes away, I take a seat upon an empty bench and sigh in relief. This night has been far from normal, and all I want is to get home and crawl under my bedsheets.

As I close my eyes and take in the silence of the station, a sense of deja-vu hits me at full pelt. Deja-vu of the night Grayson introduced himself to me on the platform of Leicester Square tube station.

It seems like so long ago now—given everything that's happened between us since—but being here brings back those memories like it were yesterday. He looked so different that night—as opposed to how he looked when I first met him in Plasma—yet he still looked deliciously perfect.

A smile tugs from my lips as I recall the memory, and, as if aiding me with the memory, the sound of a bunch of rowdy men carries through the platform. At first I think it's the recollection of the memory; the laughter and music that sounded from the group that night I properly met Grayson, but quickly I realise this is real. The sound is here, right now.

My eyes fly open, and I scan the platform around me. When my eyes find the other end, my heart thunders at the sight of a group of men stood talking, and occasionally laughing, between themselves.

This all feels so surreal. It's like the world has rewound a few months. I want to see Grayson. I want him to be here just so I can see him again.

But he isn't here, of course he isn't.

But these men could all be in with the same ridiculous business as Grayson; spending their time at crazy hours in the morning dealing drugs in the hidden zones of the platforms. I shake my head, recalling why Grayson was there that night. Then I remember; to collect money from those below him. Could one of these guys be doing the same?

I look back towards the train track, the warm, humid air silently filtering into my skin. Without thought, my feet pull me up from the bench, and I find myself walking towards the group of men.

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