Chapter Soundtrack:
Gilded Lily - Cults
Hier Encore - Charles Aznavour
Love Me, Please Love Me - Michel Polnareff
Capri c'est fini - Hervè Vilard
Trigger Warning : drug use, blood, and violence. There is going to be heavy talk of drug use in the first few paragraphs in the flashbacks, so please skip to Five years later, if you feel triggered. Use caution.
Paris, France
Andrews's POV
The back alley streets of Paris were not the safest for tourists. Homelessness was prevalent and they were drawn out all around. Hopeless and desperate people were huddled together to stay out of the fresh snow that was falling around the dark streets as Andrew stumbled down the long path he started to remember in his drunken haze. He pulled his long trench coat tight around his neck as he crunched the snow. He knew of a bench under a bridge, by a bread shop where he could get high and smell the bread back for the next morning and drift off into ecstasy. He bit into lip anxiously waiting for it. He needed it. It had been too long.
He saw the bench and made a dash towards it. He fell against the seat. He sighed heavily, reaching into the pocket inside. A small tin can that held his small favorites. Smiling over his box, he traced the lining slowly in the dark. His gloved fingers shivered as he ran them gently across the seamed opening. Andrew cracked, the lid harshly exposing the contraband. He shrugged up his long black sleeve. He took out the needle, the rubber band, and the liquid he had scored from someone named Françoise about an hour ago. This was it. This was his out. This uncut, pure, beautiful, score. He would just need to inject himself once and he was done. Whatever this was. He pulled the liquid into the needle and tied his arm off, and found his vein. It was easy. He had done it more than two dozen times before.
The street light flickered over his head. He breathed the cold night air in. Andrew let his head fall back. He threw the needle in the garbage beside him. Even as he felt his high begin he was still a considerate junkie. He wasn't going to die with a needle in his arm. He pulled his jacket down and tucked in his hands in his pockets. His long black curls fell down behind his head. He stared at the sky. Small white specks of snow fell around his eyes. The bread smell he craved floated all around him.
"What a way to die." He laughed out loud. Closing his eyes he slowly felt the world fade from view. "Goodbye fucked world." Darkness began to swallow his vision.
"Hello Andrew. Surely life cannot be this bad. Can it?" A deep voice rang out, breaking Andrew out of his hazy trance. "Or maybe you want this all the time." He lifted his head, and he saw a strange silhouette. A hazy figure came into view before him. A large man with a cane stood in front of him. "Andrew, how would you like to feel this way every day? And never have to worry about where the next fix would come from. What if I could tell you, I could save you, and you could work for me, let me use your body, and you wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again."
Andrew gazed up at the shadowed man in his half conscious state of being. He could barely make out his face. No. A small beak, with beady little eyes, that stared into his soul. Andrew felt the rush of the drug he had just taken travel to his heart. In the next few moments, he wouldn't care about anything. "Look man, don't worry about me, you can do whatever with me in about five minutes. I don't mind." Andrew felt his head roll back and felt a whoosh.
He slowly fluttered his eyes open and found himself surrounded by a lush bed with tall windows. He sat up, and kicked his long legs out of the bed, his toes plunged into the thick carpet. The table sat fresh baked croissants and small espressos with steam curling into the cold air. He gripped the high back of the chair, as he grappled at his heart. He was sure he took his last breath. The sun was rising over the city. The city he loved. Paris.
He walked to the window for the first view from his new life. The orange sun crested over the Eiffel Tower. Behind him a voice spoke. "Good morning Andrew. We have work to do."
Five years later
Andrew stood alone at the bar. This was how he had spent the majority of his days, the past five years. Alone. Until he saw you. Your smile seemed to pull him from the shadows of his dull, murderous, spree of killing anyone that Ra deemed unworthy.
He didn't want to spend them alone anymore. He wanted you. If he had met you before Jake met you. You would have fallen for him before Jake. It was proximity. Not love. If you met him before, he was sure you would fall for him. It wasn't too late.
His hand held a martini glass in his long fingers delicately as he leaned against the museum bar. His long elbow rested on the bar, and allowed him to prop just enough to give him that suave look that so many men tried to achieve and failed. Andrew took in his surroundings. He had watched you walk in with Jake a few moments ago. His arm wrapped tight around your waist. A light blush fell across your shoulders as he whispered something in your ear as you crossed the floor. Andrew watched his lips brush against your shoulders, as he turned you to an art piece, his hand traveling to your lower back.
His head hung low under his curly hair. Through half open eyelids he turned into the bar, lowering his lean body over the bar. He laid the glass on the counter and folded his hand into his face quickly. Squeezing his eyes with the tips of his fingers, he winced back in pain. He enjoyed the pain. The only thing he felt. He was sick of these days. He heard the soothing, sickening voice of his companion drift over the marble floor like honey.
"Andrew, she is here. Are you ready? Is the area prepared?" The words crept into his skull, as Andrew opened his eyes to the full bar. Ra stood behind the counter shaking a glass gently. "You need to get to her and bring her to Hathor." Andrew reached for his glass, tipping it towards Ra, watching him pour liquid to the brim. He tossed it back with ease. Slowly placing the martini glass back onto the counter, he turned up to the God. "I've got this under control. Make yourself scarce. The last thing we need is Khonshu, Jake or the others to see you and start anything." Andrew waved him off, and adjusted his silk black tie. Tossing his curls with his fingertips, he plastered a smirk on his mouth and began his descent into the onslaught of crowds that had begun to gather around the foyer before the announcements had begun.
He weaved effortlessly into the people. Satin and silk mixed with tulle as his long feet moved with the bodies. Andrew wasn't a fan of crowds, but this needed to be done. He needed to find you. In a matter of a few minutes he had somehow lost you and Jake in the crowd. Andrew glanced up at the small signs and saw the Egyptian directions and thought that was the safest bet. He took a left and grabbed a tall champagne flute to blend in. Careful not to drink anymore, his pace meandered with the small groups. The long hallway gave way to a large opening filled with artwork that hung from the roof and small corridors that off to the sides.
Looking around the coifs of made up hair, he saw Jake. His eyes were darting around the room, looking troubled. He kissed your gently and walked away pulling his sleeves roughly. He was obviously uncomfortable. You spun slowly around looking above you at the open area. Taking everything in. Andrew watched as you took in the artwork that hung from above. Your eyes sparkled as you watched the hieroglyphics on the walls and paintings shimmer under the orange hue that was cast around you. You walked over to the wall that held a large stone, and leaned over the barricade, daring to get as close as you could.
Andrew cleared his throat as he approached. "Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt you. What do you think this all says?" He asked softly, as he leaned over the velvet barricade, joining you in your almost criminal behavior. He looked at you under hooded eyelids. His curls falling into his face, and the smallest grin on his face. Andrew pointed towards a little figure with a staff, looking back over at the stone.
Startled you straighten your back up. You let your smile grow as you let your surprise show. Someone was actually asking about something you actually knew. "Hi." You leaned back down, pointing to the God Ptah. "God Ptah. God of Creation and Craftsman. Here is holding his scepter, the ankh, and the djed piller. He is also linked to creating the word Egypt. This whole scene is saying he is building metalworks, and traveling." You stood up, eyeing your new dark companion. He was studying the stone with intensity. His hands behind his back. You had been living in museums since you had been sixteen. And you had never seen someone so handsome be so intelligent.
Not saying it couldn't happen. But he was too pretty to be into mummies and Egyptian studies. He needed glasses and at least a few more layers of age. You didn't look nearly as put together most days. Museum dust tends to age people. "Do you normally go to Egyptian exhibits and not know anything about them?" You prodded.
"I know a little." He extended his long arm towards you as he caught your hand. His long fingers tangled into yours with ease. He brought your hand up to his mouth, and placed a small kiss on the back of your hand. "I'm Andrew. I am one of the Louvre curators for The Sully Wing. Have you ever been to The Louvre?"
Your eyes grew large as you tried to shift your embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I assumed when you asked what the hieroglyphs meant, you didn't know. I'm so embarrassed." You threw your hands up to your cheeks as heat flushed to your face. "I'm Y/N." He let out a loud laugh and leaned close to you. "It is okay! Would you like to go look around? I heard they had several unique pieces here." Nodding, you both turned to the crypt rooms. He took a champagne flute off a waiter's tray and handed it to you gently.
You listened to him intently, what felt like an hour, as he talked and pointed out all the minor details. Andrew was full of knowledge. Finally talking to someone who wasn't stuffy, or old or pompous. Andrew really understood and respected Ancient Egyptian culture and people. You both moved effortlessly through the antiquities. Laughing at stories and the mythology surrounding the artifacts and sculptures, and discussing the history and art about each piece. You had finally found an equal it seemed.
Looking around you realized you and Andrew had moved to the back of the Met to an empty part of the gallery. "This next area is dedicated to one of my favorite goddesses." You looked towards the dark passage way. A Hathor exhibit. Curiosity was winning out as you took a deep breath, stepping into the bleak void of the space. You picked up your dress and took the three steps one by one, as Andrew followed you behind, closing the entryway quietly as you walked ahead.
Stone walls lit with candle sconces, lined the corridor. making look like you were walking in Egypt. "This has to have taken a while Andrew. Who was curating this?" You mumbled to yourself. Your hands ran along the dark facade to help your way along. Expecting to feel plaster, your fingers felt sand, and grit. You stopped and looked down at your hands. It was dirt. Running your fingertips together, you furrowed your brows. Something didn't feel right. "Andrew, I think I need to find my date."
He came up beside you in a rush, brushing past you. "Do you see that light at the end? I think they may have something special set up for Hathor." He turned and found you standing against the wall. Your black dress with brushes of sand from the wall along the bottom and sides. He held out his hand to you. "Let's see her together, Mon Amour." You looked into his green eyes. They seemed to glow under the golden lights off the sand. His dark curly hair framing his face, making him seem more angelic. Like Jake, you thought. Devils in sheep's clothes. You reached out your hand, allowing your fingers to slide into his hand, and him pull you further into the cavern.
Andrew's chest was heaving with guilt as he took your hand. He felt as if he was pulling you to your death. He knew you wouldn't die, but by you saying yes to Hathor meant you would live this life like him. Just a simple place holder for a Goddess. To be at the beck and call of whatever she wants. Whenever she wanted. Just like he was with Ra. He owed Ra his life, but he would've never said yes if he knew that this was the life. He wasn't sure if he did say yes. But if he didn't do this, try and warm you, the wrath of Ra was far worse than the good humor. If you said no, than maybe you'd have a chance.
Andrew stopped at the entrance of the exhibit. The whole room was dedicated to Hathor. The Goddess of the sun, goddess of love, motherhood, birth, joy, and music. The room was wide with low hanging candelabra with dozens of candles that had drips of candles dripping of the sides. The ropes were tied off to the sides, and knotted onto the walls. All around you, and Andrew were dozens of statues and replicas of the goddess Hathor wearing her typical headdress with her sun disk on her head, with a pair of cow horns. She wore every form of her menat necklace on her chest and held her sistrum, a musical instrument related to her cult.
You stood at the entrance in awe. Holding Andrews hand tightly, almost feeling as though this was a fever dream. You felt as though you had been transported to the inside of a pyramid. You let him go, and wandered next to the tables. You let your fingers trace over the items slowly. Much of them had dust that had begu lm to gather along the tops.
You glanced back at Andrew, who had begun to disrobe his suit jacket, folding it over his arm, and unbuttoning his top button. You could tell his mind was somewhere else. Since you had entered the long corridor, he had started to shift. You couldn't put your finger on it. Turning your gaze back to the tables, you spoke out loud. "Andrew. How long have these offerings been here?" Your eyes drifted towards all the glittering golds and sparkling chains.
The tables were lined with vases, gold necklaces, and fruits, nuts, and vegetables. A lot of offerings were gifted around her statues like mirrors and compacts ranging from years and decades past. Surely you couldn't be in New York. The air felt old. Stale.
Andrew kicked his feet and walked along the path on the small throne-like steps. He pulled his trouser legs up at his knees and took a squat. He watched you weave through the glinting gold. You seemed to glow around everything. You were meant for her. Hathor would love you. She would treat you right. Not like Ra. Not like Andrew had been treated. You would be treated like the Goddess herself. He would make sure of it. He let his elbows rest his knees, bringing his head down. His hair drifted below his eyes. His hands raked through it, pushing it back behind his ears.
You ambled gently over to him. Your dress drifted through the sand that pooled on the sides of the walkway, with each step. Tiny grains sifted through your heels. You studied Andrew on the steps. He looked like a fallen Angel sitting amongst the stairs. Holding his head down looking defeated. Behind him was one single marble table with one small statue on it. Solitary in stature. Hathor stood proud in her stone cast. You gave her a worried gaze as you made your way to Andrew.
The silence was thick around you. You met him on the first step, sitting below him, pulling your knees up to your chest. You reached down, unclasping your shoe. "She was certainly revered wasn't she?" You looked around at all statues big and small, all adorning Hathor's face and resemblance. "All of these offerings. All of these gifts. She was loved." Glancing over at Andrew, you noticed that he was already focused on you under heavy lids. He leaned forward again, nervously running his hands through his curls, pushing them past his ears.
"That she was. She was like you in a way I would assume. Always put on display. Gorgeous. Just out of reach for everyone." He turned to you, taking your hand. He struggled to find his words. "Do you see her effigy on the table? That's Hathor. That's actually her." Andrew let his hands drop between his knees and let his hands clasp together. He bit his lip, bracing himself for the inevitable, and stood up slowly. "That is an ushabti. She is currently inside of that. She was imprisoned inside by Ra. He wants her to come back out now. He wants her to be his partner once more." He turned back to you, only to see the horror on your face as the pieces fell together in your head. A lamb to the slaughter.
"Mon Amour, you need to think about what you're going to say to her. And if you want to say no, I'll help you with that decision"
**********
An hour before
"Ra is here Jake Lockley. So is Andrew. You need to find them both, or leave." Khonshu's voice rang loudly in Jake's ears as he held you close. Your perfume hung around you both. Jake turned his attention around the room, his eyes searching for the skinny, dark assassin. Jake had taught him twice before. Both times getting the bracelet before him. Beating him had been easy. He was young, small, and cocky. But he was smart. He would wait out the best of anyone. And wouldn't hesitate in killing anyone for Ra. That Jake knew for certain. Marc and Steven knew it also.
"Mi, amor, I am going to go take a walk around. Khonshu asked if I could look around. Why don't you go and see the Egyptian and I'll meet you there." He squeezed you close and kissed your temple, letting it linger a little longer than he ought to. You snuggled against his scruff, looking up at him. The lights casted a gentle hall around his face. You laughed to yourself. This was probably the only time a halo was around Jake. A small smile passed his lips, "What's so funny?" He asked, leaning closer to your mouth. You let his lips brush gently over yours. The roughness sent shivers down your spine. As if he felt your chill his hand traveled down your back and soothed your chilly spine.
Your hands found his chest and adjusted his lopsided tie. "You are very handsome in your suit Jake. I'm enjoying you." You whispered into his mouth as you placed a small kiss on his lips. His hand pulled your back into his embrace tightly. Your hands folded up behind his head, pulling his head toward yours, gently. Letting your fingers twist in the curls at the back of his hair. You felt how much he wanted you there in the crowded room. "Oh love, you'll be enjoying my later. There is no doubt about that." His palm cupped the back of your head, kissing you gently.
He saw a red hue of a flush fall across your cheeks as he left you in the middle of the room. Your shoulders squaring as your tongue poked the side of your cheek, as you tried to gather your wits. Jake saw a waiter, and pulled him close. "She needs a glass of champagne please." He whispered, pointing him in your direction, where you had already begun to spin around and take in the exhibits in the gallery you had been in.
Jake turned, smile already disappearing. He caught his reflection in the mirrored wall and saw Marc. "Check the Egyptian exhibit before she goes in, Jake. He cannot find her." Jake nodded as he slid past the shoulders of the rich and famous. He was used to going unnoticed. Being invisible was his greatest strength. Usually he would slip on his cap. But with this crowd, it would stick out. The gel Steven begged him to slick on helped him in this situation. You obviously were a fan of this look. Too bad it was for one night only.
The Egyptian corridors were already bustling with people this early on in the night. That was good and bad. He would try and retoute people out. Jake saw the maintenance closet off to the right and slid in unnoticed. Looking around, he saw some wet floor signs and cones. No way richies would want to trip, or get their Red Bottoms wet. It should buy some time.
Jake threw out the diversions, and walked along the corridors. He had his palm under his coat where he kept his knife. He moved swiftly among the crowd that gathered and talked about nonsense. He looked at everyone. Took in everyone's eyes. No Andrew. Jake walked the long halls, taking in all the artifacts, the old books, and stones behind plexiglass. Steven caught Jakes attention as he stopped. "Jake, I think you need to find Lovely. It's been too long." Jake agreed silently with a swift nod. He had reached the end of the rooms. He turned and began making his way back through all the patrons to the arts who had gifted money to the museum were not Andrew. Soon Jake had dropped his arm, and began the long walk back through the thinning crowds.
"Jake Lockley. I see Khonshu's favorite little bitch boy is making the rounds again." Black smoke and dust began to overcome the tunnels, and swirl around Jake. He knew immediately that this was Ra. He had met him before with Khonshu. The black smoke still stung his lungs. "Hola." He greeted him reaching into his breast pocket, and getting his knife.
Ra laughed loudly as he propped up against the glass. His falcon head sitting atop his neatly pressed million dollar black suit, twitched over to Jake sharply. "Put that away you fucking idiot. You cannot stab a God. Where is Khonshu? I know he is somewhere near you."
Jake slipped his knife back into his suit, and put his fists at his sides. He hadn't changed into his suit in a while. Before you, at least a few months. He had focused on finding the bracelet and let Marc and Steven run wild with their suits, and fighting. While Jake took the backseat and let them enjoy themselves.
Dust swirled around Jake and a frie, wrapped hand settled in his shoulder. Khonshu spoke from behind him, and he walked around him protectively. "Ra. What can we help you with?" He prodded as he walked up to his rival. His bandages whipping Jake in the legs.
Ra chuckled and crossed his foot in front of the other, keeping his stance at the glass. "I just wanted to know what it felt like Khonshu." Jake felt as if his head was going to explode. He dared to glance around. Andrew had to be nearby. Near his God. The being he protected with veracity. He would never let Khonshu and Jake get this close to Ra without him. Khonshu urged forward. "Like what, Ra?"
Ra looked at Jake through his nerdy Falcon eyes. Knowing Jake would understand. That Jake would understand that Andrew had you.
"To lose Khonshu."