Before Killing Was Cool ➊ FRERARD

26: Still Don't Know My Name

C h a p t e r | T w e n t y - S i x

Present Day - Mikey

"Right this way." It's astounded Mikey that he's able to drop by to see Pete in jail. For that to happen, Pete must have requested him within a list of visitors - he actually wants to meet. Mikey wasn't going to turn that offer down when he has so many questions for his boyfriend. The guard leads him to the visiting room with its tasteless yellow walls, bland barred windows. He sees Pete waiting at a table in handcuffs.

He looks astonishingly different; his hair is grown out, darker like it's been kept mostly unwashed. His eyes are broody and lack their usual charming sparkle, cast forward like a tiny fish looking into the deepest crevice of the ocean. He's wearing his own clothes but they're wrinkled and one sleeve of his sweater is rolling up to his elbow, revealing some light scratches on his wrist. Probably a nervous tick.

Mikey takes a seat opposite him. There are no glass barriers and the guard lingers back, seeming at ease. Pete has slightly special treatment, then. Of course, it's not like he committed an act of murder himself so they probably aren't all that worried about keeping an eye on him.

"You asked for me," Mikey says softly. He's still looking into the eyes of the man he loves - thinks he loves. Right? Loved, past tense? He isn't sure what to feel as per usual.

"Yeah," says Pete, "I didn't know who else..."

"Patrick?" Mikey suggests and Pete's mouth twitches up at the mention. "Your parents?" He goes on and that gets him a full-blown snort of discontent.

"You're my lover," he explains simply and the word has Mikey blushing like a dumb school boy. He hates that the older boy still has this effect on him; he would probably jump off a bridge for Pete if he asked.

But Pete's expression crumbles under its facade, revealing the true intentions behind summoning Mikey to visit him. His lips set themselves in a straight line. "You've been talking about me - a lot."

"You've been talking about me," Mikey retorts but knows it isn't nearly as bad on his behalf. His voice grows small. "I broke into your house."

That barely catches Pete's attention like it doesn't shock him in the slightest. Maybe he already knew; maybe word got out or his father contacted him. Maybe he's not as alone in here as Mikey presumes him to be.

Mikey clears his throat and continues anyway, "I was looking for money for your bail. I guess your family already had that covered, though..." He thinks back to the file cabinet and the note labelled 'Pete' but how Alicia said his parents refused to bail him out. It makes no sense.

"My family don't give two craps about me," Pete grumbles, "any money you found wasn't for me."

"It had your name on it," Mikey argues, hesitant.

"What did?" The chain on Pete's handcuffs strains as he moves his hands.

"In the office file cabinet," Mikey says dumbly, "stacks of bills wrapped with elastic ties. There had to be at least tens of thousands in there."

Realisation flutters over Pete's otherwise blank face. "That's bribe money, kid."

Kid? Mikey pretends that doesn't sting. It doesn't hurt half as bad as the punches he got dealt being in this relationship. He hates being treated like a braindead animal but he has to keep asking questions; has to get to the bottom of this. "Bribe money for what? Why are you telling me this?" There are people watching through cameras, listening to their every word in here.