Finding August

Chapter Four

In the next few days, Vincent received a text from his sister saying that she'd found a lawyer and had she'd given her his details. Apparently, the lawyer had already put things in motion by sending him some details through his mail. Vincent had called up his sister, assuring her that he'd check his mail in a while to read through what her lawyer had sent.

Vincent sighed as he dropped the call, massaging his forehead with his palm. He had a lot to do concerning helping Anita out.

He put his phone away, looking about his room that was only illuminated by the late afternoon sun. It was almost evening time.

He soon left the comfort of his bedroom to enter his kitchen, fishing through the pile of cutlery to look for a spoon to eat ice cream with. He smiled as he fingers dug through the stack to find the spoon August had claimed as his while he was still around. It was funny. August had been domineering over the silliest things.

Vincent headed to the living room soon after with a small can of vanilla ice cream and a spoon in hand. He got himself comfortable on the sofa, switching on the TV before browsing through the channels and deciding on a movie station. He didn't have anything to do today, considering he'd decided to be a normal human being and take a break from work.

He chuckled from time to time as the comedy in front of him played. He was starting to feel better, starting to feel like he could climb out the hole of depression August's leaving had put him in.

His gaze was stolen from the TV when his phone rang. He reached into his pocket, unlocking the phone to find a text from Anita is one of the few notifications.

Anita:

I'm just checking in to see if you've gone through the documents.

Tue, 5:32 PM.

Vincent:

I haven't, but I'll check it now.

Tue, 5:34 PM.

Vincent opened up his email immediately after sending the text to his sister. He hated receiving spam so much that he wasn't even logged in and had to go through the process to get into his email — simple enough, but not so much when you've forgotten your password.

When he finally got in after going through with everything the 'Have you forgotten your password?' link provided, Vincent could finally see his mail. There was a lot of spam and promotions, but the emails with the recurring email address made Vincent blink in surprise.

Vincent's hands began to visibly shake. His eyes couldn't concentrate on the topmost email that obviously came from Anita's lawyer. Rather, they were hovering over the multiple emails that had undoubtedly come from August.

Vincent started opening them one after the other, reading through them like they were precious pieces of literature. He couldn't help the tears that stung his eyes as he read them. August still very much loved him, and it was obvious from the way he blatantly stated it in his emails.

A low chuckle escaped Vincent's lips as he read an email narrating August's encounter with a rat that had made itself at home in his kitchen.

Vincent wasn't sure why he was so happy. He wasn't so sure why he was acting like he'd had a family member miraculously who had been cured of a deadly disease.

He got up from the living room sofa, Jogging to his bedroom before throwing clothes into the nearest box he could find. He needed to go see August, he missed him so b****y much.

A ring from his phone made him pause halfway into his packing. He took his phone out from his pocket to find another text from Anita asking him if he'd checked the email. It was then his mind was pulled back into reality. He couldn't just up and leave. Well, not after promising his sister that he'd help her keep custody of her child.

Vincent sighed, replying to his sister's text to tell her that he was about to go through it. He opened up the mail afterward, reading through the mail he'd ignored out of excitement.

So far he understood what Anita's lawyer was saying in regards to payment and procedures. He sent her a short reply before putting his phone aside.

Vincent let out a small sigh, casting his gaze to the half-packed box in front of him. He was a little embarrassed about how excitement had taken its toll on him.

He smiled at his own questionable actions before looking about the small room. The place was nothing special. The drawers and wardrobes were simple and maybe a little worn out judging by the way they no longer closed properly. The floor was covered on a very cheap thin carpet and the shoe rack at the corner held the few shoes he had.

Some of August's things were still about the room, like his wristwatch he'd forgotten to take that was still sitting on the side table, or the coat he'd left behind that was hanging on the bathroom door where towels should be. A couple of August's sketches that served as painting guides were still hanging on the wall via thin strands of tape. Vincent hadn't had the heart to put them away as well as other small reminders of himself that August had left behind as well.

The room's walls didn't look as old as the carpet because August and Vincent had at one point taken it upon themselves to repaint the walls with a bucket of cheap paint on a random weekend afternoon.

Vincent smiled sadly as he took in the clear difference between the sides that had been painted by August and the sides that had been painted by him. The sides painted by August were neat and well layered, while the sides that had been painted by him looked roughed and cracked at some end from applying too much paint.

Vincent hugged his shoulders as he looked around the room thinking of August's emails.

What now? Vincent thought to himself, gazing at the half-packed leather box lying open in the middle of the room. He obviously couldn't go running off to New York without rounding up what he'd promised to help his sister do.

Besides, he had no guarantee that August wouldn't get mad when he got there. It was quite clear he'd sent the messages to his email because he was fully aware that Vincent didn't pay much attention to it.

Vincent sighed, running a hand through his short curls as his dark eyes darted about the room in confusion.

Maybe he could visit after he'd rounded up with helping Anita. It wasn't going to take forever, would it? There was really nothing more that Vincent wanted to do at the moment than take that ten hours plus car ride to New York. His mind was torn between sitting down and figuring things out and running to the nearest car rental then zooming off to New York.

Vincent pulled his knees to his chest. He wasn't sure what to do anymore. He wasn't sure how things would eventually play out.

He got up from the floor, emptying the contents of the half-packed box unto the bed before tossing the empty box aside. It made an odd noise when the wheels hit the carpet before landing still in an awkward position at the corner of the room.

Vincent then sat at the edge of the bed, causing the foam to sink in and allow the clothes piles in the center to slip towards his direction.

He looked down at the pile of rumpled clothes, giving the pair of joggers in the pile a brief look before deciding he wanted to take a walk. He got up, getting into them and a comfortable top before slipping his feet into the worn out trainers that were by the front door heading out into the neighborhood.

Things were like they always were in the evenings. Kids were playing outside with odd items while the youths and adults were either having a drink in a bar or smoking cigarettes or some illegal substance at the entrance of establishments, stairways or dark corner.

Vincent waved at familiar faces as he walked through the streets to clear his thought process as he thought about August. He wondered how the man was doing, about the new people he'd probably gotten himself acquainted with and his overall well being.

Vincent felt less guilty about thinking about things like that now. He now knew his feelings and thoughts were completely mutual. The idea was refreshing and somewhat emotionally uplifting.

After strolling around a bit Vincent decided to head back home. He took his feet out of his shoes before walking into the ground floor that also served as his tattoo parlor.

He paused on his way to the staircase that led to his living area. His mind had wondered to thoughts of August, as usual, wondering why the man hadn't just made his plans clear to him in the first place.

To: AugustMaxwell[at]gmail.com

Title: Why?

Why didn't you tell me? You broke my heart.

8:01 PM.

He soon found himself typing into the compose section of the email app before pressing the send button. He wasn't sure August was going to answer it, but he hoped so.