Finding August

Chapter One

Vincent's head was pounding when he woke up the next morning. He'd never opened up the tattoo parlor the previous day, and he'd wasted his time drowning his sorrows in cheap alcohol instead. The alcohol consumption always resulted in an irritant version of Vincent that ignored all his phone calls, a version that snapped at anyone who mildly annoyed him and the version that bawled like a baby when no one was around.

He rolled about in bed, the spacious feel still foreign to him. He missed the feeling of August holding onto him in the early hours of the morning. He missed the feel of August's soft breathing fanning his neck.

Vincent grimaced, his mind only recently registering the taste of alcohol in his mouth. He forced himself to get out of bed, staggering a little until he got on his proper footing.

He headed to the bathroom, hastily washing his mouth and face before wandering back into the bedroom. The sun was already making its presence through the bright yellow light rays that penetrated through the window blinds. Vincent looked up at the clock that hung at the side of the door to find out it was already nine in the morning. He used to be a much earlier bird, but somehow things had changed since August left.

_

"Don't touch me," August whined as he threw the bed sheet that served as a cover cloth over himself in an attempt to block out Vincent's nudging and words that demanded that he woke up.

Vincent grinned at him, crawling back into bed to cuddle up behind August. August sighed in content, wiggling backward so he was pressed up against Vincent.

"Now isn't this nice... Vincent, no! Stop!" August screeched, rolling off the bed and onto the floor. Vincent had resorted to an all-time low by tickling him.

"Are you awake now?" Vincent asked chuckling as August tried to untangle from the covers that he'd somehow gotten trapped in a human sausage roll.

"Very mature of you," August said sarcastically as he sat up. Vincent chuckled, scooting over to the edge of the bed to run his hand through August's curly hair as his boyfriend muttered more words of disapproval.

_

Vincent shook his head at the memory. Everything seemed to remind him of August.

He cleaned up after himself to keep the thoughts and the longing away. He had a lot to do seeing as he was relatively messy when he was drunk.

He took a bath and had a small breakfast before heading down the flight of stairs that lead to his tattoo parlor after he was done cleaning up. He unlocked the door and drew up the blinds of the windows as he tried to ignore the banging in his head that was an aftermath of the hangover. He could tolerate missing work once, but twice was just going too far. He didn't want to have any reason to be short of rent money, and his landlady wasn't very patient when it came to rent.

He sat about idly after opening up. No one had made an appointment for today but he'd missed a handful yesterday. He hadn't even called to give them a reason for his absence and reschedule. His brain wasn't just in the mood to care about his lousy service at the moment.

The bell above the entrance door chimed, alerting Vincent that someone had come in. He turned to find his best friend, Chuck, in a worn out bumper jacket and blue jeans. Vincent rolled his eyes, returning his attention to his needle kit.

"I came to check up on you. I noticed you didn't open yesterday, and that you weren't picking up my calls," Chuck announced as he walked up to his friend, peering over his shoulder to watch him fondle with his needle set.

Vincent shrugged. "I wasn't feeling too well," he stated bluntly as if that was enough of an explanation.

"Don't give me that rubbish," Chuck said, pulling out one of the many empty chairs to sit on. He knew Vincent too well to believe his half thought out lie. Things like being sick didn't stop Vincent from working. More times than not Chuck had to be the one to stop Vincent from killing himself when he thought he could take up a flu and work at the same time. He'd only succeeded to keep him away from the tattoo parlor when it happened after a series of pleading.

"Well, I don't know what else to say? Do you have any believable lie I could rent?" Vincent asked sarcastically as he closed the case that held his needles. Chuck laughed, nudging Vincent's shoulder lightly.

Chuck and Vincent had been best of friends since the day Chuck knocked someone over for calling Vincent a fag when they were in their late teens. People didn't mess around with Vincent because they knew Chuck would get back at them and people didn't mess around with Chuck because they knew Vincent would get back at them. It was a harmonious relationship that was enviable.

Vincent wasn't one to throw punches like Chuck but he did run a lending business and was pretty partial concerning who he gave his money to. He didn't lend too much to people he deemed careless and he didn't lend anything to people that pissed off him and the few friends he had. People tried to get on his good side for that small reason, but it was obvious that a good handful of them disapproved of his sexuality and made nasty comments whenever they felt he wouldn't get to know.

Vincent knew, but he wasn't bothered about it. He'd come to the conclusion that some people weren't worth his brain power a long time ago.

"I saw August on TV yesterday," Chuck said as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket. He took a stick out before stretching out the pack to offer one to Vincent. Vincent shook his head, declining the offer politely.

"It seems like your lover's making it big," Chuck said as he lit the butt of his cigarette with a lighter. Vincent felt his heartthrob in his throat. He didn't want to be reminded of August.

"We're not lovers," Vincent sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Well, at least not anymore."

Chuck squared his shoulders as he took a draw on his cigarette. He let out a small cough afterward before addressing Vincent. "You still love him. You're such a hopeless romantic that looking at you suffer in love lorn makes me sick."

A smile spread out across Vincent's face before a low chuckle escaped through his thick parted lips. Chuck always knew how to brighten Vincent's mood, even when he was addressing a touchy topic.

"Maybe you should go after him like in all those sappy love stories," Chuck offered with a laugh. Vincent rolled his eyes at him, quite used to the teasing. At the same moment, the bell above the entrance door chimed to signal the arrival of a customer.

"I'm very sure you told me to come yesterday, but this place was locked up," the young female that entered said as she pointed behind her at the parlor's door she'd just passed. She was wearing a sleeveless top exposing the newly started tattoo sleeve on her left arm.

"Sorry about that," Vincent said, getting up to attend to her. Chuck took that as his cue to leave, making another inside joke before heading out the door.

The day passed by with Vincent apologizing to clients he'd made appointments with yesterday and making brand new ones. He closed up late that night to make up for yesterday's absence.

As he put away his equipment and swept out the store after the last customer left, Vincent thought about what Chuck said.

"Maybe you should go after him like in all those sappy romance movies."

Vincent shook his head. Of course, he knew Chuck had only been pulling his leg but he couldn't help thinking it wasn't that bad of an idea. All he had to do was rent a car for a month or so and journey all the way to New York. He had a couple of friends that lived there and would be willing to give him accommodation.

Vincent sighed, running a hand through his short curls. He wasn't impulsive, but maybe he was starting to be. Getting back together with August was not going to be as simple as hopping into a car and driving to New York. What if August didn't want to see or have anything to do with him? The trip would then be a waste of money and a blow to his pride. But no matter the circumstances Vincent still liked to believe August was still in love with him the same way he himself was in love with August.

Vincent turned off the lights before heading up the flight of stairs to his apartment. It was stupid of him to even consider it. If August wanted anything to do with him he would have reached out to him through social media and Vincent knew August had practically abandoned his social accounts, making it the perfect place for Vincent to vent to August about his feelings without the fear of him finding out.

Why did you leave? I thought you loved me?

JAN 16th, 5:30 PM

The boys are over at the apartment playing cards and talking sports. I'm not really here in the spirit, I'm just breathing. It doesn't feel the same around this apartment without you. Please come back, I miss you. X

JAN 21st, 9:21 PM.

Vincent closed his eyes thinking about a few of the messages he'd sent as he sat down at the edge of his uncomfortable bed. He was willing to travel across states to be with August, but what about August? Did he feel the same? All Vincent needed was a sign that August felt the same. All he wanted was for August to reach out to him.