Broken Strings (Prodigy: 2)

Coke and Vodka

"The hell, ow!" he snarled, gripping his head and turning on Zane.

Zane just gave a dramatic shrug and took another sip of his drink. "I didn't have a basketball at hand or I'd have done the same thing I'd done the first time we met."

Locke glared at him, then blinked before looking away. Zane was referring to the night they'd first met, where Zane had got pissed off at Locke and thrown a basketball at his head.

Zane had spent most of the short time they'd known each other pissed off at Locke.

Locke snatched at his straw and took a long draw, the drink gurgling around the ice at the bottom as he finished before he got up.

"I'm going to my room," he said bluntly, setting down the payment and turning away.

"I have missed you, you know."

Locke stopped. He was still for a while, then his bottom lip trembled and he tightened his jaw, setting a hand on the bar, nails digging in.

"Sure," he muttered, clearing his throat, "But I think you've had plenty to distract yourself with for the last four years, about time you got over things."

"Locke," Zane said, turning in his stool as Locke walked away, his security staff following. Zane quickly paid for his own half-finished drink and got up, hurrying after him. "Locke, c'mon, I want to talk, I want to know how you've been."

"Ask Jess, she knows everything."

"She doesn't know everything."

"Oh, she tell you that?"

"No, I just know she won't know everything. I'd like to talk."

"Funny, you never wanted to talk when we first met."

"Locke."

"Goodnight, Zaney. I have a lot to be getting on with."

"Come see one of my games."

Locke stopped. His security stopped behind him and he looked around.

"Come see one of my games. We're playing a neighbouring collage tomorrow night."

"You never invited me to your games, you never wanted me there."

"And you just invited yourself anyway so I didn't have to invite you. You telling me the one time I do invite you, you're going to refuse?"

Locke thought about it for a moment, then shot him a smile. "Yeah, pretty much," he said simply, before sending Zane a mock salute and walked away, ignoring his call after him.

He glanced back when he reached the lift, just in time to see that Zane was already walking back into the bar.

Yeah, that bastard had always found it so much easier than Locke to just walk away.

~~~

"What the fuck do you mean I have to go to the game?"

Locke wrenched off his waistcoat, his phone clamped between his ear and shoulder as he unbuttoned his shirt, a glare plastered on his face that he could only wish the person on the other end knew about.

"Yeah, go to the game, represent me," Richard said, his voice easy and amused. Of course he'd find this all hilarious.

"I'm not your freaking sectary. Send someone from your own business to rep you. How many thousands of people do you have to choose from?"

"Yeah, but a game like that would mean nothing to those people. Even my hardcore basketball fans, I might as well send them to a game with the pros, not the new kids on the block who're coming up in the world."

"Then send Jessica, it means something to her."

"Jessica, bless her heart, has enough on her plate to deal with just managing you; I'm not making her represent me to. Don't worry, you can take her along."

"I'm not going."

"You are going. I'm his sponsor. I'm your sponsor. It makes sense."

"Didn't you send him all the way to America just to get him away from me?"

"I did, and it worked. Zane has a girlfriend and whatever relationship the two of you might have had has fallen to the wayside. Isn't that lovely – yes Rich, it is lovely – couldn't agree with you more, Rich, lovely indeed."

Locke glared at his phone as Richard complimented himself for another minute then let out a sigh and he could almost hear Rich grinning on the other end.

"I don't like you, you know?"

"I miss you to."

"Burn in hell."

"Ooh, and there's that bite again. Something I don't see unless Zane's involved. Don't tell me, you're still fascinated with him, aren't you?"

Locke fell quiet for a moment, slowly sinking onto the end of his bed, looking out of the double doors in front of him into the living room.

"I'm not fascinated with him anymore," he muttered.

Rich's grin vanished. His chair creaked over the phone as he straightened.

"Why?" he asked slowly.

"Because he's just like everyone else, there's nothing to be fascinated by in someone so normal."

"What? Mad he didn't wait for you?"

Locke snorted. "Wait for me? People don't wait for people like me – and I wait for no one. I lost interest the day we said goodbye in Heathrow."

"Then stop sounding so disheartened by the meeting. Pretend you can stand his presence while you're there and you don't have to see him again once you leave. You can be done with all those 'normal' people real soon."

Locke let out a tsk and shrugged out of his shirt. "Sure, whatever," he muttered.

"I'll talk to you later, I have other things to be doing other then Agony-Aunting you."

"Yeah, bye."

Rich hung up and Locke chucked his phone to the side before flopping back on the bed, throwing his arms out to the side and closing his eyes.