Chapter One

chunck-a-chunk-a-chunk

The tube rattles as it speeds down the steel tracks towards the next station. Each car has been brightly lit by fluorescent lights and lined by plastic orange seats. Car 7C is practically empty, save for a young man, whose blond head hangs low on his chest as if he were asleep. But he isn't sleeping, he's merely remembering, sifting through the vast web of his mind to pick out his favorite moments from a time long, long ago.

Another man opens the door at the end of the car, connecting it to the next. With his hands in his pockets and swaggers towards the blond man, whose head is still down, resting on his chest.

"Katy isn't happy with you."

The blond man looks up. "Why should I care?" he mutters, sinking down further into his chair.

"She's your girlfriend, Arthur. Or, was. She's tired of you mooning after your imaginary friends. You're twenty, for God's sake; it's time you gave up on your childhood fantasies of Camelot."

"They're not dreams, they're real."

"You know, any other person would think you were mad."

"But I'm not, you know I'm not, please, Lance." The blond man stares beseechingly at the other man, his blue eyes impossible to read.

The other man sighs. "Maybe you should see someone. You're not even religious, and yet you seem to constantly cling to the childish idea that you are the reincarnation of, 'Arthur, King of Camelot'."

Arthur drops his head back onto his chest.

"And you know my name isn't Lance, or Lancelot for that matter. It's Jared. Stop involving me in your fantasies."

Arthur has always seen Jared as Lancelot. When they had first met, back in primary school, he had seen the knight the little boy had once been. He knew the same way he knew he was Arthur, King of Camelot. He could clearly remember his past life, however no one else seemed to remember theirs. But he saw. He saw everything. Everyone he once knew back in Camelot.

"Sorry."

"It's cool man, but you can't tell other people this, they'll think you're a nutter."

The tube comes to a shuddering halt.

"Katy said she's getting off here. You coming?"

"Nah, I should just leave her alone. She's had enough crazy for one day."

Jared reaches down and ruffles Arthurs hair. "I'll go see to Katy. You'll be ok?"

Arthur nods. He listens as Lance's footsteps recede and the doors hiss shut behind him.

He looks down at his hands. They look so different from the time when he wielded a sword. From the time when another pair of hands dressed him- no. Best not to remember. It hurts too much. The tube starts up again with a jolt.

chunck-a-chunk-a-chunk

Arthur listens to the rhythmic lull of the wheels on tracks.

"It's too late... It's too late... It's too... chunck-a-chunk-a-chunk... saved my life, Merlin"

"Can't... chunck-a-chunk-a-chunk... lose you."

"Just-just hold me."

Ding ding ding! "We will arrive at the Southwark station shortly."

The announcement shakes Arthur from his reverie. He rises from the uncomfortable plastic seat and makes his way to the sliding doors, which open up onto the platform. He steps out of the tube and makes his way towards the stairs leading up to the crowded streets. He takes them two at a time, and quickly walks towards his flat, three blocks away.

Arthur opens the grey door and moves to the steep, maroon carpeted stairs. His flat, on the second floor, is the smallest and cheapest in the building. He inserts the key into the lock and turns it. The door opens up onto a cramped one-bedroom apartment. One window overlooks a commercial parking lot, the other looks out onto the opposite wall of the drug store next to it. Both are small.

Arthur surveys the messy flat before flopping down on a threadbare couch, hidden under layers of discarded clothing. He throws an arm over his eyes, trying to shut out the little light coming from the sunset. He begins to settle back into his memories.

Buzzz

Arthur's cell phone vibrates in his jean pocket. He sighs and flips it open.

"Hello?"

"Hey Arthur."

"Hey Lance."

"Call me Jared, goddamnit."

"Yeah, yeah. What's up?"

"Look, I was pretty harsh on you earlier. Wanna hit a club?"

"I don't know, Katy doesn't want to see me-"

"She won't be there."

"Hm?"

"Arthur, Katy doesn't want to see you. For now, I would assume that she's done with you."

"Done with me?" Arthur swings his legs over the side of the couch and sits up. "No one's done with me. Girls never break up with me."

"That time's over, Arthur."

Arthur grumbles and lies back on the couch. "Sure. Just let me clean up a bit."

"Whatever. I'll pick you up in a couple of minutes."

Arthur throws his phone into a pile of dirty laundry and moves to the bathroom. He places both hands on either side of the leaky sink and looks up into the mirror. His blond hair is messy and out of place, and his mouth was pinched into a frown. He runs a hand through his hair and reaches for a bottle of cologne. Katy had gotten it for him. The semi-expensive scent seemed out of place among the disheveled flat. He splashes a bit onto his neck as the doorbell rings. He jogs to the door, slips on his boots, and opens it.

"That was fast."

"Well," replies Jared, "I was only a station away, remember?"

"Right. So, where are we headed?"

"The Stage."

"Thats all the way in Soho."

"Well, I figured it would be good to get you out."

"I'm not a hermit."

Jared shoots him a look. "When you get into these moods, you can stay in your flat for days. Grab a coat, drinks are on me."

Arthur swings his black jacket around his shoulders and joins Lance on the first flight of stairs