The afternoon Sebastian was due to be discharged from the hospital, Anika showed up in his room with a change of clothes and tossed him a packet of cigarettes.
Sebastian snatched the packet out of the air with a relieved sigh. He’d run out yesterday and entirely failed to bribe any of the nurses into buying more for him. “You’re the most beautiful woman on Earth.”
Immediately, Anika replied, “You look like absolute shit.”
Sebastian’s laugh was cut short by the pain lancing through his face. The entire side of his head felt like it was held together with string and staples, because it was. They’d only stitched him up recently; with animal attacks, it was generally safest to leave the wounds open for a while in case there were already bacteria inside.
Anika gave him an apologetic look. “You’re sure you’re clear to leave?”
The hospital had kept Sebastian a few days, pumping him full of vaccines and antibiotics and watching him like a lab rat. None of the doctors had treated a tiger mauling, and the fact that he’d spent a not-insubstantial amount of time lying in a ditch afterwards certainly didn’t help matters. Clearly, they’d decided not to take any chances.
With a soft grunt, Sebastian sat up in the hospital bed and reached for the clothes Anika had brought. “At this point, they’re reasonably certain I’m not going to develop an infection and die.” He eased out of the bed and ducked behind the curtain, stripping off the hospital gown. The clothes he’d been wearing when he arrived at the hospital were, in short, unsalvageable. From behind the shelter of the curtain, he asked, “Are you going to yell at me for killing the tiger?”
“Not today. And I suppose your only other option was to let it maul you to death.”
Once he’d dressed, Sebastian stepped out from behind the curtain and sat at the edge of the bed. There was no chance he’d get away with lighting a cigarette in here, but he toyed with the packet anyway.
Anika sat next to him on the bed, bouncing impatiently. “Your friend Derek Chapman is in big trouble.”
Sebastian smiled, then winced as the movement tugged his stitches. “I would imagine.”
“Yeah, it’s one thing to get caught with a stolen, smuggled animal,” Anika said. “It’s another to accidentally loose that animal on a teenage girl’s birthday party. Especially if that girl is rich. Chapman’s going to be everyone’s least favourite person for a very long time.”
Sebastian figured he’d been patient enough. “Have you seen Jay at all?”
Anika shook her head. “He’d cleared out of your flat by the time I fetched your clothes.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard from him.”
Sebastian grunted a confirmation, and wondered if they’d kick him out of here quicker if he lit up after all.
Anika drove Sebastian home. He stumbled into his flat, wolfed down some leftover takeaway, and collapsed into bed.
He was awoken early the next morning by the buzzing of his phone, announcing a new text:
Beech Cafe, 11am
Beech Cafe was a sleek, minimalist coffee shop so narrow there was barely enough room to queue, much less sit down and talk. There were, however, a few tiny garden tables scattered around the pavement outside. Jay waited for Sebastian at one of them, fidgeting with a rapidly-cooling cup of coffee.
Across the street, reconstruction of the Marigold Cinema was well underway.
Sebastian dropped into the seat across from Jay, who startled at the sight of him. Reflexively, Jay reached out to touch him; his hand froze in mid-air, a few inches from Sebastian’s face.
“It’s okay,” Sebastian said, leaning in.
Jay nodded and closed the distance, his long, thin fingers moving lightly over the stitches, tracing intently down the side of Sebastian’s face.
“Do they hurt?” Jay asked, quiet and unsure.
“A bit,” Sebastian admitted. “I’m on some very good drugs.”
Jay’s thumb stroked a half-circle beneath Sebastian’s eye and the laceration that had missed it by a hair. “Are they going to scar?”
“Probably.” Sebastian let his eyes fall shut with a contented hum. “Not sure I mind, though.”
The hand withdrew, and Sebastian reluctantly pried his eyes back open. Jay was watching the construction across the street.
“They started a few days ago,” he said. “Mostly demolition and clean-up right now, but they’ll be doing a full reconstruction.”
“Chapman’s not responsible for this,” Sebastian guessed.
“No,” Jay confirmed. “He had to sell the Marigold off, along with some of his other assets. Legal fees.”
“So who owns it now?”
Jay turned and met Sebastian’s eyes. “You do.”
It took a few seconds for Sebastian’s pain- and drug-addled mind to fully understand what Jay was saying.
“Through several shell corporations, of course,” Jay elaborated. “The fewer direct ties between you and Chapman, the better. But … it’s yours.”
Sebastian turned to take in the ruined facade of the cinema. “There’s a lot of structural damage. Probably have to tear most of it down and rebuild it.”
Jay went back to fidgeting with the lid of the cup. “There’s a temple in Japan,” he said. “The Golden Pavilion. It was built in the 14th century, but they had to rebuild it in the fifties after it burned down. And yet most people there would agree it’s the same building—even if nothing’s left of the original.” He gave Sebastian the slightest twitch of a smile. “It won’t be the same. But nothing ever is.”
Sebastian found himself reaching for Jay’s hand. Clasping it tight, he raised it to his mouth, pressing his lips tightly to the back of Jay’s palm as if he were a knight of old swearing fealty.
Jay’s open-mouthed stare was brimming with blind panic and raw, aching hunger.
With his lips still pressed to Jay’s skin, Sebastian murmured, “Are you going to disappear on me again?”
“I don’t know.” Jay swallowed heavily. “I’ll try not to.”
It was a better answer than Sebastian had been expecting.
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