The Morning After Effects

The next morning, Vince had no memory of the party at all. His mind went black whenever he desperately tried to think. Which was worrying, because Howard avoided his eyes whenever they talked – and Howard was trying extremely hard to not talk to him at all – and didn't actually string together full sentences, they were either one-word replies or the end of the sentence trailed off.

But Vince was terrified of asking him why he was acting this way, for he knew he had done something wrong at the party, something that probably upset or angered his friend. He tried to ask Naboo or Bollo if they had any clue what he did, but both of them had no memory either. It seemed Howard was the only one who was actually sober.

But the two of them couldn't carry on this way. It seemed Howard wouldn't stop this cold shoulder business very soon, so Vince decided to confront him after lunch.

"Howard, why are you acting like this?" Vince burst out suddenly, on the other side of the counter. Howard looked up, but looked at his nose, not his eyes.

"Stop looking at my nose, and look at me!" Vince exclaimed. "Listen, Howard. I have no memory of last night and I'm pretty worried, because I know I've done something wrong but I can't remember what it is. I'm so sorry if I've upset you, whatever happened. Please enlighten me? I'm getting pretty concerned now."

Howard gulped. "It's nothing, Vince," he muttered.

"'Oward, both of us know I'm not gonna take that as an answer," Vince said firmly, putting his hands on his hips forcefully.

"You don't want to know!" Howard suddenly snapped out of the blue, making Vince jump. "I wish I was in your position so I wouldn't be able to think about it, popping into my mind once every minute, especially when you come over and talk to me, or if I see you, even just a glimpse. It's not fair what happened to both of us, and I think if only I knew about it we can forget about this faster."
He was out of breath from ranting. Vince reached out and rested his hand comfortingly on his friend's shoulder, only to be growled at – "Don't touch me."

"Sorry," said Vince, hastily taking back his hand. "Just please Howard, give me some hints here. I don't have to know the details, just give me some kind of clue-?"

"No way," Howard slammed down his crossword on the desk, and turned to hurry up the stairs into the flat. "I refuse."

Vince, without a second thought, followed him, determined not to give up until he received a satisfying answer. At the same time, he was trying so hard to gather some kind of memory about the situation, no matter how vague it was. But the special Shaman mixture Naboo had given him had unfortunately wiped his mind completely blank.

"'Oward, please," Vince begged, tugging on his arm.

Howard snapped round, glaring at him, eyes full of hatred.

"Howard!" Vince stepped back, stupefied at how much his best friend seemed to despise him. "What I did couldn't have been that bad."

"You wanna bet?" Howard spat. He collapsed onto the sofa, face in hands. "You got so drunk. You told me you loved me. Then, out of complete insanity, I took advantage of you and- and, I let you kiss me. And it was horrible to know what you were saying wasn't true because you were just- well, out of it. You didn't know what you were saying. It broke my heart, Vince, knowing you were leading me on like that, but I couldn't help it…because…"

"Because what?" Vince asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Howard had gotten it all wrong. And of course, knowing him that is something only he would do. Typical Howard. Vince had to try hard to stop himself rolling his eyes.

It was a couple or so minutes before Howard acted. He shook his head, stuttering again, looking almost insane. He leapt up, grabbed his coat, and almost jumped the whole of the staircase down into the shop. Vince then heard a door slam, and the flat was silent.

Vince stood up, sighing. It's no use crying about it, he thought to himself, crossing into the kitchen and putting the kettle on. He could just try again later. Maybe by the time Howard got back he'd have calmed down, thought things through and maybe realised that Vince was being completely honest at the party. It was frustrating how he hardly ever got drunk, so he didn't know the effects of it, one of them being, confidence. Isn't that obvious to any normal person? Vince questioned himself. But then he realised – well, Howard's far from normal.

He heard the door open downstairs and two pairs of footsteps trudging up the staircase. Naboo and Bollo. Vince peered round the door.

"Alright?" he said, trying to put on a smile, but his heart really not feeling up to it.

Naboo, being magical, and also having known Vince for a long time, spotted his sadness immediately.

"Come on then, what's wrong?" he sighed, crossing to the sofa and getting the daily bong set up for himself and his familiar.

"Just Howard business," Vince muttered, stirring the tea before abandoning the spoon and heading for his room.

"Where is the ballbag anyway?" Naboo asked, looking around.

"He stormed off when I confronted him," Vince shook his head, sadly. "Couldn't you tell the future for me, Naboo? You know, whack out your inflatable traveler's crystal ball?"

"The sacred crystal ball only predicts the future when the wind is right," Naboo said wisely, Bollo grunting in agreement.

Vince sighed, and continued on into his room. He sat down on his bed, sighing sadly at the fact that Howard and he were entwined on this bed less than 24 hours ago, Vince's hopes and dreams being granted. He patted the bed covers, spreading them out, and lay down, abandoning his tea on the floor, not feeling in the mood for a hot beverage anymore. He wasn't going to cry, but he just felt empty, like a dark pit of despair. Where was Howard now? He belonged here, with Vince. He definitely hadn't gone to see anyone, probably just moped around, sulking.
Vince had no regrets about what he did, and he wasn't very surprised when Howard blurted out what had happened. It was bound to occur at some point; Vince was getting more and more impatient every second.

He closed his eyes, imagining what would've happened if Howard had accepted Vince's deepening of the kiss. By now, they'd be aware of how they felt about each other. But no. Vince's life – no matter how happy he seemed to be – wasn't meant to turn out happily. Howard had no feelings for him, and none would develop. This thought alone bought tears to his eyes. He swallowed, and wiped them away fiercely, determined not to burst into tears like a big baby. He couldn't tell the future like Naboo, he had no idea what could happen when Howard returned. Maybe everything would turn out alright. And that thought sent Vince into a deep, hopeful sleep.