A/N: Still here! Lost a bit of the steam since the last chapter and creativity returned only recently. Nonetheless - Double Cross never left my thoughts and here we are, better late than never ;) Enjoy!
Sound was the first to return when he came to; the sound of laughter, reverberating all around the room. Smell and taste was second; the stench of cigarettes that permeated his clothes and the lingering alcohol in his mouth, making his stomach turn. Then, sense and sight; alternating between closing his eyes because he was incredibly tired, and opening them to focus on one object and hold it still because when they were closed, he could literally feel the Earth spinning on its axis.
When he at least managed to coordinate his senses enough to focus on his surroundings more than on the waves of nausea which threatened to make him deposit last night's $100 bar tab onto whatever surface was closest, Leo turned his head slightly to get a better overview of the situation.
Once again, he was on the couch in the office - it was beginning to feel like he spent more time there than in his own bed. And, once again, Max was there - only this time, he wasn't alone.
"Oh, would you look at that! It's alive!"
Leo didn't even have to look to recognize the source of the voice. Instead, he groaned and shut his eyes closed again, as if that would somehow make them both disappear. If only they would keep their voices down. They clearly didn't understand that their every hearty laugh and each exclamation felt like a balloon under his cranium, slowly being inflated, pressure mounting until he thought it might burst. But it never did, and he understood at once why they called it a hangover, for it felt as if the blackest of clouds were over his head with no intention of clearing until late afternoon.
"It is?" Max responded after a moment and turned in his direction, that same annoying excitement in his voice. "I was starting to think he may have overdone it a bit with the celebration."
The statement was met with another bout of laughter, somehow even more obnoxious than the last, and he wanted nothing more than to throw a chair at their faces. Had he been able to get up, he thought he would have, but instead, he wrapped himself tighter in the duvet which had been carelessly thrown over him, the waves of nausea adding to his misery. His brain still felt like it would swell beyond the capacity of his skull, but now his dehydration was too obvious to ignore. He needed water. Preferably to drown in, but just a glass of it to drink seemed like a good idea, too. Forcing his heavy eyelids half way open, Leo swung his feet to the floor, pushing himself up.
Immediately Perry was at his side, one hand hovering over his back, as if hesitant to touch him, yet the other patted his shoulder forcefully. One look told him that he was suppressing a laugh, which somehow irritated him more than the fact that Perry was the reason for the state he was currently in. He never would have touched a drop of the bourbon if he hadn't been there to offer it.
"Get off of me," he snapped, jerking his shoulder away.
"Woah, somebody's cranky."
"Somebody needs to shut up."
His own boldness took him by surprise, but it seemed that his filter had left him along with the first glass and hasn't been back since.
"Leo, manners," Max quipped, but unlike Perry, he didn't try to hide his grin in the slightest.
"Manners?" he parroted more to himself. Why was Max in his favor? Not that he was going to complain, but he had expected it to go differently. After his transparent attempts to keep their "arrangement" a secret, not to mention his yesterday's faux pas - of which the memories, perhaps thankfully, were rather foggy - he was prepared for a sea of questions, along with a few waves of criticism.
He almost believed that he was going to be spared of it, but then Max's face took on a more serious look. He immediately dreaded what was going to follow, though he knew he should have expected it; knew he deserved it. He himself would have been upset, and hurt, if Max were to keep something - or rather, someone - secret from him. Even more so if he had gotten wasted with the said person, in a society where reputation was everything. So, why should he get any special treatment? Being a coward was no justification to be exempt from the inevitable reaction.
"Nonetheless," Max finally ventured, "now that you're alive, I think there's some talking that we - no, you - will have to do. Don't you think, confidant?"
There it was; the "reaction", as his father used to call it. "Your every action, no matter how small, will have a reaction; remember that, boy, and you'll steer clear of trouble. Understand?"
And he did. Perhaps far too well. And so for years, he would go by that rule, and for years, he indeed did steer clear; of experiences, of relationships, of life, really. Well, now he had taken action and so far, it brought him nothing more than what he was told was certain to follow: trouble. For once, he had taken action, and already Max was throwing words like "confidant" at him, in a not so friendly context. The very definition of the word - a friend who you can trust, who you tell secrets - sounded like a mockery, aimed directly at his behavior these past weeks.
He gulped. "Well, Max, I think I owe you an explanation concerning our plans with the accounts for-"
"Your plans? Save your breath." He nodded towards Perry. "He already explained that."
Taken aback, he blinked and turned to Perry as well, who gave him a wink in return.
Still, he wasn't convinced that this was going to be so easy; it never was. So, he asked, "Everything?"
"Everything," Max confirmed.
Max and Perry were getting along well, then. More than well. Was that good? Probably. No, definitely. But Max would hardly address him so strictly if there wasn't more in store. He couldn't allow himself to feel relieved yet.
"So you're not…"
"Pissed?" Max finished for him again. "Well - at first I was surprised, to say the least. I had thought that there's nothing in your head that you won't voice out loud. To me, at least."
You have no idea, he almost said, but stopped himself and hung his head instead, suddenly ashamed of ever having been fearful to tell Max anything. He had never let him down, after all. Even when he had made one bad choice after the other, he had brushed it off and helped him deal with it. While complaining about it, maybe, but never giving up.
"But-" Max continued- "your mysterious friend here explained that also, so relax."
"He isn't my-"
"It was because I told you to keep silent, wasn't it?" Perry interrupted, pinning him with a sharp look. "You know, before things settled back at the firm and all…"
"Oh?" Leo raised his eyebrows, not quite catching up. But then the sharp look softened, and he understood at once that Perry was covering for him. "Oh... Yes, that's right. I'm sorry. I should have talked to you first about it either way."
Max, on the other hand, merely waved his hand. "Ah, nevermind your accounting arrangements, that's above me. The question is why didn't you talk about him? You didn't have to pretend you two weren't friends. What did you think I'd do, get jealous? Heavens, you are allowed to talk to people, Leo. In fact I encourage it. So what was this about? Why all those secrets?"
But Leo could hardly keep up with the onset of questions, his head aching all the more with the strain. "I… What? We weren't-"
"Oh, I'm afraid that is my fault too, Max," Perry jumped in to save him from his nervous stuttering, but somehow it felt more like a disturbance than help. Leo opened his mouth to speak again, but Perry was faster. "It was me who told him to keep my identity to himself until everything's settled. You know, one doesn't want everyone whispering I've been fired from the most influential accounting firm in New York when they just happen to be searching for a new spot."
Perry's explanation seemed to be plausible enough, for Max raised one eyebrow as he always did when detecting a lie, looked between the two of them, then broke into that all-familiar subtle laughter; a sign he was relieved.
He had bought it. Just like that, without any further questioning, without any further doubt. If it had been Leo, he'd have been subject to an hour-long cross-examination to make sure he isn't hiding anything, or worse, outright lying. As paradoxical as it was, Max hated it when people lied to him, and was usually able to recognize dishonesty in a heartbeat just from looking at a person's body language. But now those safety measures were omitted, and he fell for Perry's persuasiveness just as Leo did for Max's, years ago.
What was going on here? It sure was a disruption to how things always were; how Max always was. Leo didn't like disruptions.
And besides - did Perry just call him Max? They were on first-name terms? He couldn't explain why, but it felt like an invasion of something intimate. Up until now, he had thought that Max calling him by his first name within the first day of their meeting was a rare occurrence, something special only Max and him shared.
But now it has somehow lost its meaning.
"Well, then-" Max slapped his thighs jovially and walked over to him- "that explains it. Didn't even hurt, hm?"
With that he ruffled his hair, taking Perry's place by his side. And as much as Leo wanted to
scoff or roll his eyes at the comment, just a look into Max's amused eyes was enough to break his facade. Lifting his mouth into a slight smile, he shook his head. "Only a little."
Max returned the smile but only for a second. "You really went overboard last night, just so you know. Doing okay now?" he asked in a low, suddenly a lot more private voice.
"As okay as I deserve, I suppose," Leo answered dryly.
Max only clicked his tongue in response, handing him a glass of water from the coffee table.
"I should have kept an eye on you. I just forgot that children shouldn't be left unsupervised, you know? Or let near alcohol, for that matter."
"Max…," he was only able to groan in exasperation as he took a sip of his water. It turned out just seconds later that even water was tricky business in his condition, though. For a moment he sat still, counting the breaths he took in and out, and then he dashed as fast as he could to the bathroom behind the desk.
"I'll look after him." He heard Perry say, but didn't pay much attention if a response from Max followed.
When he was just gagging over the toilet until he was coughing up only long strands of saliva, he lowered the toilet seat and sat, resting his face in his hands, until he felt better.
Only then did he notice that he wasn't alone in there, and that Perry sat on the floor, leaning against the wall opposite him. The one dark curl that he always maintained fell casually over his left eye as he curled it around his finger over and over, staring back at him solemnly.
Leo almost started feeling intimidated when even after several moments his stare was unrelenting, but then Perry blinked and was on his feet so swiftly that Leo flinched.
"Hate me still?" The question was jesting - or so he supposed - but he could tell that he expected a real response.
"This is not the best time to ask such questions." Leo buried his head in his hands again, too weary for conversation. "Give me a few hours and ask again."
"Hey!" Perry's tone was still convivial as he came closer to crouch beside him, but his expression didn't match the amicality he presented. "I saved you a great deal of trouble there. He was furious when we brought you here."
Leo removed his hands from his face, suddenly uncomfortable. "Of course… I was just-"
"I know." Perry waved his hand and hopped up again, looming over him instead. He wasn't exactly tall - though not as short as him or Max either - but he had the strange ability to carry himself if he was taller than everyone else. "Just don't forget that, hm?"
Leo frowned, slightly disturbed by the notion, but the sound of the door opening cut off his train of thought.
Max burst into the room, shaking his head as he walked straight towards him. With the both of them standing over him, staring at him and judging, he felt the urge to snap at them; to send them on their way and leave him alone in his self-induced misery.
He didn't have the chance to, though, as Max knelt before him, placing a tentative hand on his cheek.
"Aw, look at this. Who knew he could get any paler?"
Perry made a sound of agreement and smiled, holding eye contact for a moment longer before turning away, somewhat sheepish.
"Listen-" Max continued- "I'll excuse you at the theatre today. I can attend the meeting for the both of us, but…"
He turned pensive, humming in thought, then turned to Perry. "You think you could look after him til I come back?"
"What?" Leo squealed before Perry could give an answer. "No, I don't think he has to… 'look after me', because I will be coming. Just give me a moment, and I can-"
"Sure thing." Max scoffed. "And you will throw up in the cab. Don't think so, buddy."
"But-"
"Come on." Perry finally interjected. "We'll have fun. You'll show me how it's done around here and I'll make sure you don't die of dehydration. Deal?"
"Deal!" Max agreed for him, clasping his hands together. "Leo, two tasks for you - behave, don't die. Oliver - make sure he behaves, don't let him die."
Perry nodded, and leaving Leo no chance to protest, Max gave him a half-hearted pat on the head before disappearing in the doorway, the front door shutting after him just moments later.
They were alone.
"Oliver?" Leo asked then, bewildered, after enough time passed for the silence to be awkward. "You hate when someone calls you that."
Perry shrugged. "I don't mind it as long as I like the person."
Leo raised his eyebrows. "Well, can I call you that?"
Perry grinned and shook his head. "No."
Trying hard not to be offended, Leo sat up slightly, crossing his arms. "Don't you like me?"
"Well, do you?" Perry countered, fiddling with the leaves of a fake flower sitting on their sink.
The question took him off-guard, he had to admit, because he didn't know how to answer it. Did he like Perry? He didn't dislike him, that much he knew. But he felt it was too early to develop some form of a stronger bond, though Perry still acted as if they had been the best of friends, once. Sometime in this perceived past that only Perry seemed to remember.
"Well-" he began at last- "you're nice to me."
"I am?" Perry chuckled. "I mean - you're helping me, after all. A little kindness is the least I can offer you in return, I guess."
"Not everyone would, though. Some people just take."
"Yeah." Perry smiled a little sadly, letting go of the leaf. "Some people."
Another moment of silence passed between them, but it wasn't as uncomfortable anymore. Thinking about it, he didn't know why he was being so reluctant to let Perry closer. He, too, had done nothing to deserve anything less than his kindness. Quite the contrary; he had just helped him a great deal with smoothing things out with Max, something he was now incredibly grateful for. He didn't know if he could have beared Max shouting at him or raising his voice even slightly when his head felt like splitting in half.
Sure, Perry was acting a little strange sometimes, but who was he to say half a word about strangeness? It was still a wonder that someone like him managed to find people who not only accepted him in all his eccentricity, but also loved him.
So maybe he was just being selfish.
"I am sorry. I haven't been making the best impression so far, have I? I don't know if it counts for something, but to my defense, tech weeks, opening nights and a hangover aren't the best precursors for my mood…" Leo chuckled nervously, hoping he would understand. Quite frankly, he was quite surprised he was still managing to pass for normal after the events of the last few weeks. "It'll get better from now on, I hope."
"Mmhm, hope is an important value to keep." Perry laughed a little and disappeared shortly, only to come back with a few documents in hand, which he proceeded to throw into his lap. "But have you seen this?"
Gaze lingering on Perry for a second, he frowned and looked down on the papers. Just a quick overview of its contents was enough to make his stomach do a somersault, only this time it wasn't because of his late-night adventure.
Slowly he started shaking his head. "This is bad."
Even though it was just a general record of the show's incomes, outcomes and attendance percentages - which he had seen a thousand times before, brooding over the books until the early hours of the morning, day after day - it was updated of last night's premiere documentation, as well as the critiques.
"Well said," Perry mused and took the files back. "But don't jump to conclusions yet; it's been just one performance."
"And a fair number of previews which didn't do any better," Leo fretted. "Oh, God. Don't let this be the one that closes after the premiere. Does Max know?"
Perry shook his head. "Not yet. I only finished those statistics a while ago - don't give me that look, Max gave me permission to look through your files - so there was no time to break it to him. I sent the data I could collect on such short notice to the theatre, though. So he'll probably be hearing of it pretty soon."
Although flabbergasted that Perry was able to orientate himself in the documents of their show and add his own figures to them in such a short time, Leo decided to not give it much thought for the moment. Right now, he should be focusing on getting a grip and checking the books himself.
Upon standing he discovered that he was still rather shaky and that the Earth hadn't stopped turning around him yet, but he was able to walk over to the sink without much difficulty. Splashing cold water on his face just to feel something refreshing, he instantly wished he could wash his brain free of the toxins, too.
"Leo-" Perry's voice sounded from the next room- "could you come take a look at this?"
So he did.
After almost an hour of checking and rechecking the losses as well as the small successes of their opening night fiasco, he was exhausted, but at least he had an idea of the situation: This was going to be a box office bomb. He simply knew it.
"So?" Perry asked without looking up, having occupied himself with reading a book that Leo had left on the table a few nights prior - Of Mice and Men, his long-time favourite which also happened to give him the initial idea to produce Double Cross, mainly because of the Great Depression setting.
"So nothing," Leo responded, slamming the books shut as he felt his hands start to tremble. "If the audience capacity of a production is under a certain percentage, investors will no longer want to continue funding that show. It's that simple. If it's not being seen, it's not making money."
"How do you know it won't be seen? The ticket sales will drop a good deal under Taubman's influence, sure, but maybe-"
"Maybe nothing," he repeated, frustration flaring by the minute. "Maybe it is just meant to be. Maybe sometimes, the expectations for a show and very high budgets far exceed critical reviews and attendance and that show becomes an instant bomb. Don't you get it?"
"Hey, calm down, will you?" Funny, it was a phrase that Max would have used, Leo thought, though it sounded more alarmed than Max's usual tired plea. "It's nothing final. And besides, my quest is to look after you, so do me a favour and don't stress it."
"Don't stress it?!" he almost shouted. "How could I possibly not? I've been around long enough to know where this is heading. First, the sales will fall so much that investors will start dropping out. Second, we lose our key actors. Third, the production will close prematurely. And last, Max will kill me, if not the whole production team, because for the record, this was all my idea; so much for being independent. This - this is bad!"
"You already said that."
"It seemed worth repeating."
The outburst seemed to have drained his remaining energy, and he fell back against the chair with a huff. He winced as the movement created a screeching sound on the floor, tearing through his head like a bolt. Great; a migraine on the way; just what he needed.
"Look-" Perry addressed him after a while, gesturing towards the unfinished books- "I know I haven't signed the contract yet, so technically I shouldn't, but if you'd let me…"
Truth be told, Leo couldn't care less whether Perry was officially their accountant or not; the only thing that mattered to him at the moment was that he won't have to be the one to do it.
"You would?" he asked shyly. "Well, if you don't mind… I'd give anything to just be in bed right now, so that would be convenient. Regulations be damned."
"You're the boss."
Thus Perry winked at him, sat behind his desk - it felt so strange, having someone take his place - and got to work.
Several weeks after the disastrous premiere, the Shubert theatre was graced with a period of relative peace. It was well-deserved, so everyone made sure to bask in it as long as it lasted. Despite Leo's worries about the show closing as soon as it opened, in the end it didn't, and performances were scheduled to go on for as long as people would have them. So far, so good; though not as good as everyone had hoped.
As Perry had predicted, the sales went down considerably a few days after the reviews were out, and they hardly got an evening with a full house. It was disheartening for everyone - especially for Leo and Max, who had been used to nothing but full houses - but at least there was profit. Not much, just enough to keep the show going, but combined with their savings and a little determination, the show went on. It had to; there was no place for things getting worse, so they just had to hope they would get better.
As far as the mood in the theatre was concerned, there was an improvement. After seeing that even an unsuccessful start did not have to mean an entirely unsuccessful month, the cast as well as the crew seemed to have settled down noticeably. They were still wary, well aware how fleeting a bit of luck could be, but the rehearsals were much calmer than they were for months. There was not as much need to attend all of them either, though that applied mostly to the producers and other employees who didn't have to be present at all times. It was the director who was needed no matter what, which, of course, meant the same for his assistant. A fact that Carmen wasn't entirely pleased with, because the good spirits seemed to have reached anyone but him.
Though it wasn't all bad; less people meant not having to speak as much, thus not having to hide his irritation. But today, the theatre was as crowded as it had been any pre-opening rehearsal, because it was the end of the month. And that only meant one thing; a monthly meeting where they would discuss the show's successes and losses so far. This time, he knew it would be more about the losses, which was one of the reasons why he would rather go home.
Another was that Leo would be there and this time, he predicted there would be no way to avoid a conversation. Ever since the night at the Astor hotel, they have barely spoken, as up until now, they've managed to overlook the other by simply pretending to be busy whenever there was a chance for interaction. He wasn't sure which one of them had initiated the silent treatment, but somehow none of them were willing to let it end yet. Carmen because he was still convinced that Leo was making a mistake with that Peregrine guy. Leo because he was obviously hurt by that notion.
Truth was, he had no valid argument to dislike the new accountant; they haven't made the effort to have a real conversation either, and judging by how everyone gushed about him every time he'd show up at the theatre, there was no argument to make about him. He was polite, he was funny, he was charming. He had never said a cross word or refused to do a favour. At least everyone said so.
But to Carmen, his politeness was manipulative flattery, his humor cheesy, and he just could not see the charm that everyone talked about. He was well-dressed, sure, and conventionally attractive, he supposed. Alright; he knew how to make himself stand out even in a simple well-fitted suit, but that had nothing to do with internal charm or charisma. First thing was, he smoked everywhere. In the auditorium, in the theatre's office where he worked, even in the dressing rooms. This was not allowed; some time ago, Max had banned cigarettes from the main spaces of the theatre because it irritated some of the singers (that was the official reason - the real was that it irritated Leo) and because once, someone had accidentally set a costume on fire because of it. And now that he was breaking the rule, no one said a word, not even Max.
That was the thing that Carmen hated most of all; how well he got along with Max.
Somehow, even after witnessing him get Leo drunk to the point of collapse and the subsequent hangover which had him out of work for three days, Max liked him. For the same reasons everyone else did; he was funny, he was charming, he was someone that Max could talk to without having to worry about insulting him.
As much as he loved Leo, he had complained to him before about how everything was like walking on thin ice; a wrong word could hurt him, a wrong movement scare him, a wrong joke insult him. That was just how Leo was, and Carmen had never minded it, though he understood that for someone as brash as Max, it could get exhausting sometimes. With Perry it was easier; if Max insulted him, Perry simply insulted him back. No hurt feelings, no consequences. Leo would roll his eyes at them, but even he looked to be more amused than anything else.
Which was an issue itself, because it was not like Leo to tolerate breaking the rules, whether it were those of politeness or written restrictions. Carmen didn't understand him; he understood none of them. Could they not see what he was seeing? Did they all fall for a few nice words? Were they not curious to know more?
He crossed his arms with a huff, sinking deeper into the auditorium's seat headrest, watching with a frown as Max prattled on about raising the tickets' prices, to which Roger objected loudly.
"Really? Is that your solution? Ask them for more money and they'll come running to you! I'm sorry, Max, darling, but those aren't your investors."
Despite his grimness, Carmen could not help but snicker at that; the incredulous expression on Max's face as he turned to Leo was just too good.
Leo shrugged and smiled at him shyly. "He's right, Max. The attendance is low as it is, and while raising the prices would result in a temporary profit, it would drop again twice as much. People just would not go."
Carmen thought Max grumbled something like "aren't you smart?" in response, but his attention was elsewhere already. He scanned the stage once, twice; he could have sworn that Perry was standing next to Kevin on the other side of the stage just seconds ago, but now he was nowhere to be seen. Instinctively he turned his head, but of course, there was no one behind him. He shrugged and turned back towards the stage.
"I've gotta tell you; even the meetings back at Whitehall & Marks used to be less boring."
Carmen almost jumped out of his skin. He somehow managed not to curse out loud, but when he looked to his left to see a pair of blue eyes squinting back at him behind his thick glasses, that typical smirk on his face, he thought he might curse anew.
"Do that again," Carmen hissed, "and you better hope your health insurance covers workplace injuries."
Perry scoffed and made himself comfortable, mimicking Carmen's posture; arms crossed, legs up on the seats in front of them.
"Hm, violence. Well, that's one way to go about it."
Carmen shot him a look and said nothing.
"Or we could talk."
"Then talk."
"That's curious-" Perry titled his head- "Leo described you as chatty."
"I really don't care what Leo described me like," he spat, but immediately wished he hadn't; of course he cared. "Maybe I just don't want to talk to you."
"I figured."
Carmen sneered. "Obviously."
"Look." Perry sighed and squirmed around in the seat to face him directly. "I don't know what has anyone told you about me, but we don't have to compete. I'm not here to oppose you."
"Compete? Over what? And with you, of all people? Don't make me laugh; you're not that funny."
Perry only sighed and turned his focus back to the stage. "Over Leo's attention."
It took Carmen a moment to process what he meant. "I beg your pardon?"
"Come on." Perry leaned back, that self-satisfied smirk never disappearing. "You evidently like him. And it vexes you that he's not as much looked at you in the past month."
Who did he think he was? Of course he liked him. Of course it irritated him to no end. But there was no way in hell he'd give this man the satisfaction of letting it on.
"You think so?" he said and noticed how indifferent he sounded. "Has Leo told you that or are you just sticking your nose into things that aren't your business?"
"A bit of both, actually. But enough of this." He took on a serious look for the first time. "I don't mean to antagonize anyone. I'm sorry if you got that impression. And besides, what exactly is your problem with me? What did I do?"
"That's exactly the problem!" Carmen finally lost his patience. "You did nothing. Absolutely nothing to deserve a place in Leo's life. Nothing to deserve Max's respect. And yet, they all just… Who even are you? Where did you come from?"
For a moment, Perry stared at him with that same solemn expression, staying silent. It would have almost intimidated Carmen, had they not been in a theatre full of people he knew. Anything he would say or do, the others would hear. That much was certain, and that calmed him to a certain extent.
But then Perry started shaking his head, and laughing, silently; so silently that it sent a shiver down Carmen's spine.
"Oh my God," he only said. "Oh, God. Of course."
"What?" Carmen demanded, fuming by this point. "What the hell's so funny?"
"You are!" Perry exclaimed. "You're acting as if I'm doing something illegal since day one, always so resentful whenever I as much as look into Leo's direction. You're resentful now too, and why? Because Leo is avoiding you. It really is quite simple, my friend. You're jealous!"
That was the last straw. Standing, Carmen slammed the scratch pad where he kept all his notes about the show down onto the seat beside him. The impact made the first people turn, but he didn't particularly care. Let them hear exactly what he thought about this Oliver Peregrine.
"Don't you dare 'friend' me! You're not anyone's friend, and especially not Leo's! You don't know him. He doesn't know you! Why must he always choose the worst possible influence? First Max, now you. Does he have no judgement? Doesn't anyone here? They may have all fallen for a pretty face, but I'm telling you, anything you do, I'll know, and I will-"
"Are you listening to yourself?" Perry remained seated, his calmness infuriating. He just looked up at him as if he were crazy. "You're criticising his judgement as if he has none of his own. Are you really that bitter that Leo didn't choose you? Everything he wants is inherently bad just because it doesn't include you? Not even Max is that jealous, and do forgive me, but they are much closer than you and Leo ever were."
"What do you know?" Carmen shouted, sure that at this point, all the attention was on the two of them. "You've known him for all of a month! You have no idea whatsoever about what kind of relationships Leo has. You have no idea about me. You don't even know my name!"
For a split second, Carmen was convinced that the last comment had shocked him. He didn't let it show in his expression, but he squinted his eyes, for once not blinking as rapidly as he did most of the time; among other things, though they were harmless, that was a quirk of Perry's that frustrated Carmen to no end.
But just as he thought that he had finally managed to shut him up, Perry smiled at him - a smile he would under other circumstances consider friendly - and deliberately twirled one dark curl between his fingers.
"You sure about that, Scott?"
A coldness akin to fear spread through Carmen's body then, travelling from his hands up to his face. Instinctively he looked towards the stage to try and see if anyone had heard, but it didn't seem like it. His assumption that they were the centre of attention was correct, though, and everyone had stopped talking, the meeting coming to a halt.
But their eyes weren't on Perry as they should be, but on him. Most of them looked shocked, some clueless, but Carmen's gaze lingered on those who looked angry. Roger, standing in the middle of the stage with hands on his hips, wore a frown, eyes searching Carmen's face for an explanation. Then there was Max, his arms stuck mid-air in a gesture of incomprehension, his problem most likely being just the fact that he had been interrupted.
Then he looked to Leo.
He was standing just a few inches away from Max, head tilted to the side as he tried to figure out what was going on. His expression being angry would have been an overstatement, but there was a trace of something Carmen would call worry mixed with hurt.
Carmen felt no sympathy for him though. Who else could have told Perry all those highly personal things if not Leo? All because he wanted him to be safe. But if that was the game he wanted to play, then so be it.
"You-" he hissed, grabbing Perry by the lapels just like he did that night at the Brooklyn Bridge- "keep away from me! If Leo thinks he's better off with you, fine. What should I care if he doesn't? But I'm warning you, if-"
"Jesus Christ, what's wrong with you?" Losing his temper at last, Perry shook Carmen off of himself in one quick movement, standing up as well. "It's not my fault that Leo isn't interested, man! How could you even expect otherwise, acting like you do? Maybe you should accept that and stick to your director. Freak!"
With that, Perry pushed his way around him, in between the seats, storming down the auditorium and up the stage just to disappear backstage. The curtain swirled once and drew closed after him again, making specks of dust glitter in the spotlight. Deprived of their voices, the theatre would be perfectly silent again, if it weren't for the sound of Perry's receding footsteps, echoing all around.
Had he been able to, Carmen would have ran after him to finish what he had begun; to make him realize that he wasn't going to stop until Perry proved himself worthy of a place in their team. He would have, but he stood petrified in anger as he watched Leo storm past Max, who made no move to stop him either, and took the same path as Perry had seconds ago. And judging by the look Leo shot him just before he vanished behind that curtain, he was obviously on Perry's side, too. Even after what he had said - no, shouted really - for everyone to hear. For Roger to hear.
Such lies. Ever since he showed up; nothing but lies. He was disgusted. By the both of them.
He couldn't contain himself anymore.
"Traitor!" he yelled after Leo, even though he was already out of view. Snatching his notepad and a scarf he had thrown over one of the backrests, he flung it around his shoulders and marched towards the stage without even looking at it.
"Roger!" he snapped then. "We're going. Leo obviously doesn't need us here today."
Upon receiving no reaction, he stomped one foot on the ground, his impatience flaring. "Now!"
When he was met with silence for the second time, he finally bothered to meet Roger's gaze.
Much to his shock and dismay, Roger's expression mirrored Leo's almost exactly; there was that same hurt, but the worry was replaced by something that more resembled betrayal.
Had they all gone crazy?
"What?!" he lashed out once more when Roger still said nothing, throwing his hands up.
"What's wrong with you?" was the only thing Roger said at last - the same thing Perry had said to him - before departing as well, several of their roommates hurrying after him, leaving Carmen no place for a reaction.
And just as quickly as his anger had come, it vanished again.
Suddenly, he was afraid.
What had just happened?
The sun was already setting when they had gotten out of the theatre, every glass surface in the city reflecting the warm evening glow. It was a particularly nice autumn day, one of those very few when the fall was actually enchanting, the colorful leaves which swayed in the breeze matching the orange sun rays. The rest was just a grey, tiring prelude to winter, but right now, right here, this could be Max's happy place. The circumstances weren't ideal, of course, but the city always had this effect on him; ever lit, ever awake, ever with a pulsing heart.
Allowing himself to appreciate this moment of calm for a second longer, he sighed and turned to face the reality; he turned to face Leo.
They sat in a little diner by the road, the one they always went to after work when they knew they would be too lazy to cook dinner. The outdoor terrace was still open, so they had sat outside to get a little fresh air after such a stuffed meeting.
He watched solemnly as Leo struggled with his tortilla, cursing under his breath as pieces of salad kept falling out of it and the sauce was dripping from the other side onto his sleeve. Still, he couldn't help but smile fondly as Leo picked out the pickles from the poor, massacred tortilla, one by one, throwing each onto the plate angrily.
"You okay there?" Max asked, really trying to hide his amusement, but couldn't.
"I hate pickles," Leo grumbled, not looking up from his dish.
"You asked for a tortilla!"
"I didn't!" Leo countered, sealing the fate of yet another pickle. "I said I don't care."
Again, Max couldn't help but snicker. He didn't know how Leo did it, but he was always the funniest when he was angry.
"Don't think I can't see you're laughing at me."
Max's smile only widened. He chose not to respond and only observed him while he was still focused on his food, because in those moments he could get a better look at him without getting embarrassed from holding eye contact for too long.
The late sunlight accentured his auburn hair to the point it looked ginger - something he adored to tease Leo about, because he was not a ginger - and even though his eyes were turned downwards, he could see the specks of light which revealed that his eyes weren't as dark as they seemed. He would compliment them on his freckles, too, which now made themselves very much visible also, but he didn't want to meet the same end as the pickles.
Finally Leo noticed he was staring at him. "What?"
"Nothing." Max raised his eyebrows and fixated the passing cars instead. "I'm just pitying your tortilla."
"One more word about the tortilla-" Leo said in between a bite- "and you're getting me fries."
Max jeered. "God forbid. I wouldn't want to see what you'd do with the ketchup."
"Well forgive me, I'm a little cross right now!" he exclaimed and dropped the wrap again, wiping his hands.
"Don't you say…" Max rolled his eyes. "With whom?"
"You're seriously asking?"
"Carmen or Perry?"
"I don't know!" He stroked through his hair. "Well - Carmen for sure. He just has to attack him every time he sees him to prove me wrong. But why did Perry say that?"
"Because he thinks it's true." Max shrugged, sipping on his coke. "You didn't think Oliver wouldn't notice that Carmen is not exactly chasing skirts, did you?"
That made Leo stop slightly, and he frowned, but more in confusion than irritation. Or maybe he was just cringing at the name that Max used. "Well, no, but I'm-"
"You're very manly, yes…" Max had to laugh as he leaned back in the plastic chair, ignoring Leo's huff of annoyance. "Hey, let it go. You know Carmen's mood swings - he's gotten them from Roger. And Perry just doesn't know better, can't blame him."
Leo turned thoughtful then, tracing along the edge of his cup with a finger.
"But... what if it's true?" he muttered almost inaudibly. "What if Carmen-"
"I'm here, I'm here!" They were interrupted by a familiar voice. Perry hurried towards them and immediately plopped down in one of the chairs. "Forgive the delay. Couldn't find my folders."
Leo nodded his greetings while Max gave him some sort of a fist bump - that was new - as Perry untangled his scarf. His eyes traveled down to Leo's plate then.
"Ew, what happened to it?" He made a face and raised one eyebrow at Max. "A victim to Leo's wrath?"
"Pretty much," Max answered and they exchanged knowing looks.
"Hey," Leo piped up, "I'm right here, you two."
"Yes, Max!" Perry exclaimed, feigning outrage. "You're speaking like that in his presence and forcing him to eat this? That's practically abuse. Get the poor boy some fries! Just look at him - so pale. You're evidently not feeding him enough."
"Evidently," Max teased. "But I think he's quite content."
"No, Max." Leo took advantage of the situation and smiled at him sweetly. "Do get Leo some fries."
Max looked him up and down. "You shouldn't eat greasy. Remember last time?"
But the glare which Leo pinned him with was enough to convince him, and he sighed dramatically and started for the diner. "Alright, alright!"
"Be so kind-" Perry quipped before Max left- "and bring some coffee too while you are at it."
"You and Max together are starting to scare me," Leo complained, a twinkle in his eye.
"Aw, we do? I think we're quite even." Perry gave him a wink. "Seeing your plate, I'm a little worried for my safety too. Note to self - don't mess with Bloom."
Leo smiled a little embarrassed. "I'm not angry at you, if that's what you're worried about. And I'm sorry for Carmen, he's just-"
Perry waved his hand. "Nevermind that. I'm sorry too, but he somehow managed to push my buttons. I'll try to set it right, okay?"
Leo looked down and nodded. "Thank you."
The sound of traffic and nearby chatter of passersby filled the short silence between them. Leo still hadn't raised his eyes to meet Perry's, so he took his opportunity to say what he wanted in the first place
"Anyways-" Perry glanced over his shoulder to see if Max was a safe distance from them- "there are more important things at hand right now. Let's say I have a plan."
"Really?" Leo didn't sound particularly interested by this, continuing to focus his cup of steaming tea. "Is it a good one?"
"Well-" Perry bobbed his head and gulped - "I have a plan."
At long last Leo raised his gaze. "I'm listening."
Perry considered that a small victory. "You'll need to take a day or two off from the theatre, though."
That did seem to catch his attention, maybe even take him by surprise, but after only a small hesitation, he raised one shoulder in a gesture of indifference.
"Whatever. As long as I don't have to speak to Carmen."
A corner of Perry's mouth lifted. "Understandable. Say-"
He paused for dramatic effect, leaning his elbows on the table just as he did that day back at the café, with that same exhilaration written all over his face.
"Would you be up for a trip down the memory lane and pay a visit to our old prison of a certain accounting firm?"
A/N: Thank you for sticking around! Feel free to drop any question you may have in the comments xx