A/N: Many thanks to everyone who's reviewed! The reviews are really the only things that fuel this story right now. You may notice that the chapters are coming almost everyday, and that's because I'm trying my best to complete this story by the end of this month since next year is going to be a busy one, and I probably won't be able to update at all. :( So do check in everyday for new chapters if you can! :) Anyway, I know it's pretty annoying reading chapter after chapter and still not having a full understanding on what happened to Hephaestion back at school, but please bear with it because you will find out when the time comes. Also, I was thinking of illustrating some of the scenes in the story for your benefit (as well as my own :)) so do leave a review or a message telling me what you think or any particular scenes you'd like to see illustrated. Now onto the story :)

"You're kidding," said Cassander lazily into his phone as he waited for the elevator. "The wedding's in two days. . ."

"I can't find another partner in two goddamn days Sarah," he said, angrier this time. The elevator doors opened and two women stepped out, engaged in a conversation that involved cellulite. Cassander frowned briefly at the information as he stepped into the elevator. "You really should've told me beforehand."

"Hello? Sarah," he looked at the screen of his phone. There was no reception. "Dammit."

The elevator doors opened again and a man stepped in. "Good morning, Cassander."

"Morning," he said absently, before noticing who it was. He snickered. "Long pretty hair."

"I'm sorry?" said Hephaestion.

Cassander laughed again. "Did you know that some of your colleagues refer to you as that?"

The brunette blushed and let out a breath of embarrassed laughter. "Um, no."

Cassander smiled pleasantly. It wasn't a wonder why Alexander would take interest in the man - he was very good-looking. Cassander looked up at the elevator screen. "That's pretty weird, isn't it? Pretty creepy."

Hephaestion looked at Cassander, surprised. He chuckled. "Yeah. A little."

"But it's true though. You should let it down once in a while," Cassander looked at the other man when he didn't respond. Perhaps he didn't know how to. "Hephaestion, is it?"

Hephaestion nodded.

"I heard you hold PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering," said Cassander, remembering how Gerald had rambled on about the new addition to his team. "And a BFA in Visual Arts?"

Hephaestion nodded again, hiding his surprise at the managing director's thorough understanding of his academic background.

"We're lucky to have you in the company," said Cassander, grinning as he patted the man on his back, letting his hand linger there for a moment longer than was completely necessary. The elevator doors opened to the basement parking lot and he stepped out.

When he noticed that Hephaestion made no move to exit the elevator, he looked back at him. "Not your level? This is the lowest you can go."

"Uh," the brunette fumbled to press the lift button. Apparently he had forgotten to do so. Quite a big deal for a PhD-holder.

Cassander grinned. "Good talking to you." He caught a glimpse of Hephaestion nodding briefly before the doors closed between them.

Was that normal? Hephaestion thought to himself. He shook his head vacantly. No, that was totally not normal. Not normal behaviour between employer and employee and most definitely not normal behaviour between two men.

But what was he so conscious about anyway? It was just a friendly pat on the back, any weird feelings brought about by it was just him and him alone. Hephaestion shook his head again. There was something very wrong with him.

But he said it was true that I had "long pretty hair". He was obviously flirting.

Compliments, thought Hephaestion before his thoughts went further along that vein, are just a form of good manners. That's right.

"What the hell kind of compliment is having "long pretty hair" for a healthy, masculine young man like me anyway?" said Hephaestion to himself, slightly angry now as he rubbed his thinly bearded chin, a nervous habit of his.

"A very weird one," commented Ptolemy dryly as he entered the elevator.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," said Hephaestion softly.

"I didn't think so," laughed Ptolemy before stopping himself when he remembered things weren't all that amicable between the both of them. "Sorry."

The next time Hephaestion ran into Cassander that day was at lunchtime, when he had stayed back at the breakroom to prepare the cup of instant noodles that he had brought to work. The managing director was facing away from him, apparently fixing himself a cup of coffee, and Hephaestion hesitated whether to return to his desk and wait for the man to leave the breakroom before entering again or simply to greet the man.

"Good afternoon, Hephaestion," said Cassander as he turned around, startling him. "Sorry, did I scare you? I saw your reflection." He gestured to the metal cupboard.

"No," laughed Hephaestion nervously, moving to pour hot water onto his noodles. He could feel the other man watching him intently as he did so. This is way weird.

"Don't you eat at the cafeteria?"

Hephaestion remembered what Alexander had said about the quality of the food there. He had to agree with him on that. "It saves time to eat here."

Cassander frowned. "You have a lot of work to do?"

"Enough to keep me busy," shrugged Hephaestion, accidentally placing his hand under the flow of hot water. He retracted the hand, cursing softly.

"Are you okay?" asked Cassander.

Oh, no. No, no, no. He is not going to take my hand and put it under the tap like I'm some helpless babe in arms.

Hephaestion exhaled deeply as the man did exactly that.

"Better?" asked Cassander.

"Yup, thanks," muttered Hephaestion, refusing to look at the man as he grabbed his cup of noodles and headed back to his desk.

"I brought you some cream," said Cassander as he entered the office room, carrying a yellow tube of first-aid cream. He pointed to Hephaestion's hand. "It looks pretty bad."

The brunette glanced down at his red and slightly swollen hand. He compared it with his other hand. It did look pretty bad.

"Thanks," he said, glad that Cassander had left the tube on the table and not tried to apply it on for him like Hephaestion had half-expected him to do.

"You're not getting lunch?" asked Hephaestion as Cassander pulled Frank's chair from his desk and set it next to Hephaestion's before sitting down himself, much like Alexander had done some weeks ago.

The man shook his head as he sipped his coffee. "Listen, Hephaestion. . . I have this wedding to attend in two days. I wrote plus one and I was hoping you could come with me."

"What?" Hephaestion hoped he had heard him wrongly.

"Not as a date," explained Cassander, laughing. "It's just that my date Sarah's flying off to Milan tonight for a show, and I don't want to turn up at the wedding alone."

So he's straight, he has a girlfriend. Hephaestion didn't want to admit that he was slightly disappointed. Maybe it's been too long since someone had last shown any remotely romantic interest in him. He'd spent all his teenage years on his studies, but he hadn't intended for his studying to impede in his love life but for it to distract himself from the less enjoyable things that were happening in his life at the time.

Couldn't he ask someone else? Another guy friend perhaps, if he didn't want the girlfriend to misunderstand? We've only just met.

"Don't worry about rejecting me," said Cassander. "At worst, I'd fire you."

Hephaestion's jaw fell open and the other man laughed heartily at the expression. Hephaestion couldn't help from laughing as well.

"Don't be stupid," said Cassander, patting his knee fleetingly, but firmly. "No one in their right minds would fire someone like you."

"I'll be free that night," said Hephaestion. It felt like someone else had said those words.

Cassander's face seemed to brighten at that point. "Really?"

"Really," said Hephaestion, smiling despite himself, now that his heart had already decided for him. It's not a date anyway, just a. . . hangout. Hephaestion decided that he needed a friend.

"Hello?"

"Is this Alexander?"

"That is me. May I ask who this is?"

There was the sound of slow labored breathing. Then the line was cut.

"What the hell," mumbled Alexander under his breath as he hung up the phone. He called Bagoas into his office.

"Bagoas, that man who called a few days ago, has he still been calling?"

"Yes, he has," replied his assistant, looking slightly worried. "Should your number be changed?"

"I would appreciate that. Although it's probably just some crazy man who found the number on the yellow pages. . . If he calls again, don't bother entertaining him."

Bagoas nodded and then left the office.

"Something troubling you?" asked Roxane, pouring a small container of lemon juice prepared previously by her housekeeper Henriette, into her earl grey, and then pouring milk into Alexander's, knowing that he preferred his that way.

"You could tell?" asked Alexander. Of course she could tell, Alexander always wore his heart on his sleeve and Roxane had pretty much committed every one of his moods to memory and documentation. He sipped from his cup.

"Is it the new guy at the company?" asked Roxane, eyeing the blonde from above the rim of her cup as she pulled her shades back and secured it at the top of her head. Alexander looked at her strangely and she smiled. "Ptolemy told me all about it. Are you really using Cassander's office?"

"I forgot you had a mole in the company," said Alexander, walking onto the back porch and sitting in one of the recliners. He put the cup on the side table. "I'm not using his office."

"Do you like the guy?" Roxane sat down at the foot of his recliner.

"Hephaestion?"

"No, Cassander," Roxane rolled her eyes. "Of course I meant Hephaestion."

"Well, yeah," he said with a far-off look about his face. He chuckled into his cup. "Sometimes I think it doesn't even matter that he hates me."

"I'm happy for you, Alex," said Roxane, patting his thigh and getting up to leave. Alexander pulled her hand, stopping her.

"What would you do if you were me? How would you get him to forgive you?"

"Prove to him that you didn't play a part in any of it, whatever that happened to him," said Roxane as though it were the simplest logic.

Alexander let go of her hand. "But how?"

"Beats me," shrugged Roxane. She ruffled his hair. "I'm sure it'll come to you somehow."