Arthur's POV

What's he doing right now? Probably eating. Or sleeping. Or playing some ridiculous first-person shooter or MMORPDSG3, or whatever they were called. Easy one.

What's he thinking? Oh, I've no clue. Maybe about some silly commercial, or McDonalds, or Clint Eastwood. ...There was, of course, a chance that he was thinking about me, and the fight we had... That's a harder question. Not fair.

Does he regret anything? Probably. I knew I did. Still, not a fair question.

Where is he now? Ah, another easy question. I knew the answer to that without a doubt... He would be at that stupid Corner. Where we'd met, where we'd first talked, and eventually, fell in love.

I felt a stab of regret as I continued to think about it. And him. That was part of my routine, though, now. It was the first morning I'd done it, but I could see myself doing this tomorrow: asking myself horrible questions like how is he feeling now? and does his bed feel as empty as mine does?

"That's it!" I decided out loud. "No more!"

I'd had plenty of boyfriends before Alfred, and I'd have plenty more after him! There was no use getting hung up on someone like him, so annoying and loud and ignorant, when the love of my life was waiting somewhere out there for me and I just had to look past Alfred long enough to see him. Someday, I'd be ridiculously happy with my partner, and I'd look back on these couple of weeks after I'd broken up with Alfred, and I'd laugh at how silly I was, pining after him as I was, missing him and regretting every single hurtful word I'd said.

I sighed. I leaned against the couch lengthwise, and covered my face with my arms. I need to stop feeling this way...

Alfred's POV

"Okay, well, if you see him, can you tell him where I am?" I asked the woman.

She gave me a look. "Sure, love. I'll do that."

I nodded in appreciation, even if I knew that she wasn't serious. She shook her head at what I supposed was my foolishness, and left The Corner, a cappucino in each hand. I sighed, and set down my piece of cardboard. I'd taped Arthur's picture to it and written underneath in bold Sharpie, Do you know where he is?

Some people assumed he was a missing boy I was trying to find, but after a closer glance, they saw my rolled up sleeping bag and frequent customers noticed that I never changed clothes, but after a while, I would be noticeably cleaner again, due to Matthew forcing me to shower. Unfortunately, one such frequent customer was a cop, and after my eighteenth day sleeping at The Corner, he confronted me.

"Son, you can't stay here," he told me gruffly, a box of donuts in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. "You know this is solicitation."

"Oh, no, officer, see, this is my brother's café. He gave me permission to stay here," I hurried to explain. "So no problem, see?"

He gave me a look, too. Then he tossed a glare towards my cardboard sign and my sleeping bag. "Are you sleeping here?"

"...Yessir," I admitted.

"How long has it been since you left this place, exactly?" he asked skeptically, shifting his weight.

"Um..." I counted in my head. "Eighteen days."

The cop lifted his eyebrows, obviously impressed. "Well. Kid, that's...impressive. But seriously, you can't stay here."

"There's someone I'm waiting for," I told him, shaking my head. "If it's a day, a month, a year." I was absolutely dedicated to my plan - I would stay here no matter what happened, who tried to persuade me otherwise, what social or even legal rules I was breaking.

He studied me. Then shook his head slightly, like everyone else. Then he surprised me by muttering, "Good luck, kid." Then he walked out.

Every day I sat in the same booth of The Corner, there were at least four people who'd try to hand me money. They just didn't understand. But to each of them, I'd explain that "I'm not broke, I'm brokenhearted."

Sometimes, I would realize that it made no sense for me to keep on sitting here, but what else could I do? I couldn't call Arthur, he'd never pick up even if I could find my stupid cell phone. I couldn't go over to his place, he wouldn't answer the door. But if Arthur changed his mind, this was the first place he'd go to look for me. So I'd stay here, for as long as it took. How was I supposed to move on when I was still in love with him?

Maybe one day, Arthur would wake up and found that he missed me. And maybe the heart that he'd never given to me would wonder where in this crazy world I was. But he'd know where I was, and he'd find me at our Corner, where we'd always meet. No way in hell was I going to move. Except to shower and eat. I've gotta live, right?

So many stories existed about that guy waiting for a girl. Sure, maybe my girl was actually a guy. And a grumpy, no-nonsense, uptight guy at that. But I would wait however long it took. There were no holes in my shoes, but a huge hole in my world.

I sighed, and was about to ask Mattie to get me a coffee or something when another regular customer came up to talk to me. He had a light tan, messy brown hair and green eyes, and I had seen him several times since beginning my camp-in at The Corner.

"Hey. Amigo," he called gently.

"I don't want money," I warned.

"I don't want to give you my money," he assured me, amused. "I want to ask you something."

"...Sure, okay...?"

"What are you doing here? You've been here for what, two weeks now? Every day, without fail. You're here first thing, and when they close. Do you ever even leave?"

"Leave?" I asked. "I can't even move. Don't get me wrong, I eat and shower and go to the bathroom, but I have to be here all the time."

"But why?" he persisted.

I held up my cardboard sign.

"Sí, I've seen the sign," he nodded impatiently. "But who is he? Missing bloke?"

"No. He's the love of my life," I explained shamelessly. "The most important person in my life, and the best thing that's ever happened to me. He...left me. But this was our place, you know? If he ever wants to see me again, he'll come here to find me. So I can't leave, in case he comes."

"You know that's kind of stupid?" the man asked bluntly.

I snorted. "So I've been told by..." I ran a mental count, "...thirty-seven people in the last eighteen days."

"Sorry, amigo, but it is," he chuckled. "You don't think you could just phone him?"

"No. It's...hard to explain," I rolled my eyes. "I just can't. I've gotta stay here."

The man gave me a thoughtful look. "Well, whatever you want to do is your business, obviously. But I wonder..." he paused. "Do you think - well, could I interview you?"

"Interview?" I asked curiously.

"Sí. I'm a reporter for only the biggest news station in London," he said proudly, standing up a little straighter. I lifted an eyebrow, having never seen the man anywhere except at The Corner. He deflated. "Okay, okay, I'm still in-training," he admitted. "But this is such a good story! This would be my breakthrough!"

I considered his request for a minute, and decided I might as well do something nice for the guy. I sighed. "Sure. Why not."

"En serio? Thank you so much!" He held out a hand, which I shook. "Gracias! Can I come back with a crew later?"

"Uh...I guess?"

"Great! See you later," he called, walking out of the café. "Thanks again!"

"No problem," I mutmured, even though he'd already left.

"What was that all about?" Matthew asked, coming up to my table. "What'd you do for him?"

"He's gonna interview me," I said, bewildered. "For the local news."

"Really?" he asked, looking shocked. "Well...that's great! I mean, you always wanted to be on TV, right? Here's your chance! Not ideal circumstances, I'll admit, but you've finally gotten your...one to two minutes of fame!"

I smiled as much as I could muster. "Yep. Not as great as I thought it would feel, but eh, whatever. You're right."

"Wow. Not often I hear that from you," Mattie winked, joking.

"Gimme some credit, I know you're right sometimes," I chuckled. "The dude said he'd be back later with a camera crew."

"Well, all right. Considering that I'm the proprietor of this place, you probably should have asked me first..." Mattie muttered, "...but I'm okay with it! Really! Just have fun, eh?"

I hestitated. "I'll try."

He walked away with a small smile as a customer stepped up to the counter.

I looked at the piece of cardboard I was still holding in my left hand. Arthur's face smiled up at me incredulously at whatever stupid thing I'd been doing when the picture was taken. I sighed, wishing I could see that expression in person again. I sighed.

Maybe I'd get famous as something cool, like... The Man Who Can't Be Moved. I'd be like a superhero! Maybe Arthur wouldn't mean to, but he'd see me on the news, and then he'd for-sure know where I was. Maybe he'd come to see me... He'd know automatically it was just for him.

But until I saw his face through those glass windows at the front of The Corner, I wouldn't get my hopes up. It was too risky. Still...I wouldn't move.

Because one day, Arthur could wake up and find that he missed me. And he'd start to wonder where I was, and he'd come back to The Corner, where we always used to meet, and he'd see me waiting for him. So I wouldn't be moving.