A/N: I'm back! 50,226 words closer to the end of a book and back to great you happy people! Did you miss me? ^_^ As a reward for being so patient, I present you with 2 chapters today. Enjoy! Mwah!

Chapter 4 – The Time of Day

My audition was over by four in the afternoon. I'd waited around for almost two hours to do a try-out of only a few minutes… twenty tops. It was like waiting for a ride at an amusement park. You waited in line for an hour to ride a ride that only lasted two minutes. It made no sense!

Anyway! Let me try this again. My audition was over by four in the afternoon. With nothing else on my mind, I went straight for the bookstore. It seemed this would become a habit, but I didn't mind so much. After all, it was my plan to get all of Merlin's attention on me. That would be increasingly difficult if I didn't go to the store. Obvious, right?

"You again?" Will spotted me before I could even begin searching for Merlin. "Look, he's not working today, and even if he was, I wouldn't tell you, so get out of here."

"Well, it's nice to see you too," I replied sarcastically, placing an annoyed smile on my face.

"Didn't you hear me? He's not here today," the other repeated. I rolled my eyes.

"Of course I heard you, but if you don't trust me enough to tell me when he is here, why should I trust you enough to tell me when he's not here?" I asked. I crossed my arms in front of me. We were barely inside the back doors. Luckily, this was probably out of the way, but it also meant Will could be a prude to me and not get sacked for it.

"You just do," Will responded brilliantly… not. I wasn't sure if he hadn't followed the question or if he just didn't know a good answer. I rolled my eyes. "Look, Merlin has to work. He can't be spending all of his time treating the fancies of some bored, rich guy."

"So he is here?" I asked, seeming to ignore the statement. Will grit his teeth and ran a hand through his hair.

"No! It's his day off. I'm just saying you need to stop coming here whenever it tickles you and expecting him to just do whatever you want him to. Alright?" Will explained again. I nodded slowly but then methodically turned it into a shake.

"You know I never pegged you as the mother hen," I said. Will was being so protective of Merlin. They must be long time friends.

"What?" Will asked, looking around as though I'd been commenting on something or someone else. "I'm not mothering him!"

"Then you're gay?" Because only his mother or his significant other would become so obsessively jealous and worried after only one trip to the beach where nothing even happened… and Will wasn't Merlin's mother – or I was 99 percent sure he wasn't a mid-thirties (at least) woman.

"What?!" Will exclaimed, eyes wide. I was rather pleased with the reaction, and also slightly disappointed. I thought Will would be harder to get a rise out of than Morgana. He wasn't. "N-No!"

"Then you're just a tight ass with nothing better to do than pester me. Look, if Merlin doesn't want me hanging around, let him tell me himself. You can tell him I said so. If he tells me to leave him alone, I'll stop showing up," I decided. Merlin didn't seem the type to tell others to buzz off, even when they were narcissistic prats like me. I figured this was a safe declaration.

"You swear?" Will asked suspiciously. I rolled my eyes.

"I swear, but since he's not here, I'll be going," I said. I spun on my heels and walked out before the gay mother hen could say anything else.

I really hoped I'd pegged Merlin right and he wasn't going to tell me to shove it and find a new interest. This was more entertaining than two girls fighting over a movie role.

"So why did you decide to come out with me again?" I asked as I sipped coffee. Merlin gave me a wry smile.

"Out? We're in the bookshop's coffee store," he replied as though my question was frivolous, but I must have been imagining that. If I wasn't imagining it, then Merlin was the first person in four years to treat something I said as though it was pointless.

"Doesn't matter. We're having coffee together. Why did you agree?" I stressed the question to make it pop out and seem more important.

Merlin carefully lowered his coffee to the table. A soft thud sounded as it made contact. I watched as the glass below it fogged up ever so slightly, barely visible unless you were looking for it. I had asked Merlin to have coffee with me outside on the glass tables instead of inside on wooden ones where Will could pop in on us and eavesdrop into our conversation. Merlin didn't seem to mind one way or the other.

I watched as he shrugged his shoulders in that way people do when they can't think of the right words to use. Merlin looked toward the wind that was blowing and seemed to enjoy the feeling on his face. A couple of girls walked passed us, chatting about nothing of consequence to me. Merlin smiled though, so I had to assume he'd heard them clearer than I had. Merlin let out a soft chuckle.

"You know… I don't know," he finally answered. I was appalled by the way my own eyes became enraptured with his hair moving in the wind and the way his neck muscles moved as he breathed. "You're arrogant and come around here whenever you feel like it. You obviously don't care what people think about you at all or care much about me. I don't know why I give you the time of day."

"Excuse me?" I asked. Shock ran through my veins like my very blood. I'd never had anyone talk to me like that! Not even my parents or Morgana! Then the shock faded into a poison in my blood known as hate. I felt my entire expression shift into a glare. Merlin's fingers fiddled with his cup and his posture became tighter as though he could sense my glare.

"Excuse me?" I asked again, voice low and laced with anger. I thought my tone would shock him or scare him, but instead he seemed to relax. He smiled, even.

"Arthur, I've been blind for most of my life. I grew up listening instead of looking. I grew up listening to your voice in movies my mom watched. She watched lots of movies, but I remember yours the best because of the emotion you convey through your voice."

Like magic, his voice rushed through me and pushed out the poison. I could literally feel it move through my body, and I shivered in response. I'd been told my voice made people tremble. Was that what they meant? Merlin voice wasn't particularly special, yet somehow he'd shaken me.

"On occasion, I cry for scenes I can't see. I see landscapes without needing details. This is kind of embarrassing to admit, but sometimes it feels as if your voice lets me see again. I suppose that's why I agree to go anywhere with you," Merlin admitted.

I passively let silence engulf us. My heart pounded in my chest. That's when I felt the pride and the overwhelming joy. A smile spread over my lips. This was definitely more fun that watching two girls fight over a movie role.

"Careful. You may inflate my ego," I teased after the delay. Merlin chuckled.

"I don't think it could get any bigger," he replied. I should've taken that as an insult. I didn't. He should've meant it as one. He didn't either. I could tell by the way he was smiling.

"Merlin, I think I could get to like you," I admitted, raising my cup to drink. That was the first time Merlin outright laughed.

Mom was a beautiful woman. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders like perfection. It looked like sunlight caught in everyday blonde strands. She was virtually glowing. She had a soft curve to her nose that my father often kissed when they cuddled together on a couch in front of a fire. Her skin was flawless, though she often explained to me that it was simply the beauty of make-up. I learned to imitate that aspect of her life. I wore make-up even off camera, just not as finely applied. I looked radiant on-screen and brilliant off-screen. Yes. You may applaud now.

Ahem. I mean, my mother was gorgeous. She curved just right in the hips, and her bum was 'perfect enough' – if I can quote my father on this. He is rather biased. I remember a tabloid once saying her breasts were imperfectly small. I don't remember the tabloid lasting long after that. The readers sort of rioted, or so I read.

My mother was beloved. Not only did she give amazing performances in movies and on the television, my mother was a benefactor to many companies, organizations, and longtime friends and fans. Mother was always looking to spend her earnings on good causes. She helped the homeless, the orphaned, the hungry. She helped the archeologists, the scientists, the doctors. She helped where she could, with money or with time. She used her position as a famous actress to broadcast world and domestic issues. My mother was a fighter, a believer, a supporter, and she did all she could. She always kept her promises.

I wonder sometimes why she married my father. Once, when I was very young, I asked her. She said something, but I don't remember what it was. She always changes her answer when she retells me the story. Sometimes it was his eyes. Sometimes it was his laugh. Sometimes it was the jet black color of his hair, when it had still been black. Sometimes she says it was his money and power, but we always laugh and joke about that one. Mom hasn't used father's money once since they've been married. Sometimes he gives her money as a gift, but she never draws money from their joint account for any of her escapades.

My mother is unbelievably fun. Growing up, my mother kept me believing in the tooth fairy so completely that I would force myself to sleep and had a special bag for my tooth and would run through the house the next morning exclaiming my joy until I was almost ten. Mordred had been young when my joy was spoiled, and so his dreams were crushed much earlier than mine. Father had been the one to spoil it. I never blamed my mother for lying to me for so long, but I did hate father for almost two years for ruining it. My mother would come home from work, dead tired, and invite me into the kitchen to help her cook. We baked cookies, muffins, cakes, and pies. She loved to cook. As I grew older, I would cook for her while she was still at work and surprise her when she got home.

My mother bought wildly stylish clothes that always made her look important, dignified, and classy. Then she would open her mouth and remind us all how goofy she really was. She would sometimes strut around the house in her clothes to model them for my father and I, and Mordred when he was born. She always made us laugh by adding funny accents and actions to her performances.

"Arthur?" her voice was like a slap to my thoughts. I focused on her and smiled. "What are you looking at?" she laughed. "What were you thinking about just now?"

"You," I admitted. I looked at a shelf on my left and put a box of noodles into our shopping cart. We were doing our weekly shopping.

"Me? Oh, that can't be a good thought," she teased and ruffled my hair. I smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked. "I like thinking about you, mom."

She smiled at me and cupped my cheek. "How did I get such a sweet son?" she asked. Then she gripped my face and shook it. I laughed as she said, "But such a liar! Still, you're so handsome! I just can't get angry at you."

She released me and started walking. I rubbed my cheek where she'd held me. She was both wrong and right. I trotted after her and put my hand on her shoulder as we walked. I was a good head taller than her.

"I really do like thinking about you," I assured her. She nodded and then laughed softly as she shook her head.

"I know that. I also know what this life has done to you, dear. You're always trying to be the center of attention and get people to look at you in some way or another. I know that's my fault for being your mother and not keeping you from the publicity, but I also know it was rather inevitable," she spoke.

She stopped the cart two aisles down from our last stop and lifted a can off the shelf. She pointed me toward a bag on the top shelf. I didn't hesitate before stepping up to grab it.

"Still, I know you're a good, sweet man underneath in all. I'm just waiting till the day you start getting the attention of someone special and start buying things for them or going places with them just to make them happy enough to stand being around you longer… so you can get more of their atten-.. Arthur?" my mother stopped mid-sentence, but I wasn't listening anymore anyway.

I had been distracted by a music display. The sounds of seagulls had pulled on my ears more than my mother's sweet voice, and that in itself was shocking. Under the call of seagulls, I heard the same sound that had made me stop in shock at the beach when I closed my eyes. As I stepped up to the speakers playing the sounds, I felt my heart speed up ever so slightly.

It was the sound of waves, pulling me and releasing me like a buoy caught in the surf. I pressed my lips together and my muscles tightened as if to stop myself from swaying in the waves even though they existed only in my mind. I reached forward slowly and dragged my finger across the display of cds until I found the one it said was playing. Then my hand shot out and snatched a copy out of its display.

I stared at the picture on the cover. It showed a mountain shadowed in the background and a dark beach in the forefront. I was caught up in the eddies and the currents I couldn't even feel. For a brief moment, I felt my eyes close, and I was almost scared how ensnared I was in pure sound. Then a hand grabbed my shoulder and I was ripped from the tides of my mind.

I saw my mother standing beside me, looking worried. The sound of waves suddenly seemed very soft, almost a whisper. I checked the volume of the display. It was true. The sound was hardly up. I wondered how I'd heard it at all. I must have gotten a shocked look on my face.

"Arthur, are you okay? You look… slightly pale," my mother was almost whispering. I got the feeling she'd been calling to me and was trying not to make a scene.

"Sorry. I just… I was at the beach the other day with a friend and… You know what? I'm going to buy this," I said and grabbed a second copy. I put them both in our basket.

"You're buying two?" mother asked. I blushed, but there was no reason to. Was it a big deal to buy something for a friend?

"Y-yeah. One for my friend. They like to, uh, listen," I explained. A smile spread over her face like a drizzle of water dripping down a cobblestone incline, slow and infectious. I fought against how it threatened to spread to my face.

"Okay," was all she said. She spoke no more about my mental side street we'd taken.

We finished the shopping by talking about what we needed and what new treats to try and make. She mentioned me possibly taking leftovers to my new friend, which was as close to prying into my new personal life as she got. Even I understood why it was so interesting. I'd had very few 'friends' in my life. Now not only did I have one, I was buying something for him.

I seriously considered going to see a doctor about this sudden interest in one person. I was pretty sure I was losing my mind, especially if what I just did with the music display showed anything.

"I don't understand," Will said slowly. He was looking down at the CD in his hands as though it could secretly be a snake, not like it was evil but still like he didn't trust it. I rolled my eyes.

"Just give it to Merlin for me, would you? I know he's not working today, but I wanted it to get to him as soon as possible and I have to work all day for the next few days. Oh, and tell Merlin I'll be around on Friday, so I'll see him then," I ordered.

I started to walk away but the sound of disbelief formatted as a scoff stopped me dead in my tracks. I turned on Will with an exasperatedly annoyed look on.

"Listen, I know you hate me," I said, trying not to overreact. "Is it a crime to give something to a friend now?"

"No. I just don't think I like the idea of me being your middleman," Will replied. He slipped the CD into the pocket of his work belt. It hung about a foot down his legs and had five pockets.

"Would you like to give me his address instead so I can deliver it myself?" I asked with a super sweet tone. Will looked almost as wary of that idea as he did about the CD.

"Definitely not," I heard him grunt. "I'll do it this time, but don't expect me to keep being your delivery boy. I'm not your dog."

"So which are you, a boy or a dog?" I asked smugly. Will didn't answer. He turned on his heel and strolled down the aisles. I could see how tense his shoulders were and that proved I'd gotten to him. A few words and Will was already angry at me.

Oh well. Who cared if he was boring so long as he got my gift to Merlin?

Preview:

Chapter 5 - The Worst Day

"Lancelot's coming over for dinner."

"Don't forget to pick Mordred up from school!"

I got out of my car and almost hissed at the unusual heat outside.

"He's perfect," I stated simply. Merlin broke into a grin.

"Yeah. My birthday is tomorrow."

"Oh? What did Will get you?"

"Who's the chocolate bar?" Mordred asked.

"I hate you."

"If that makes your day better, I don't mind."

At least I could back it up next time I saw Merlin… if I went back to see him ever again.