As soon as his shift ended, August stuck his time sheet into the proper folder, grabbed his garment bag and beelined for the employee loo. He would have preferred to go home and change, but there was another bus to catch in fifteen minutes; otherwise, it would take him an hour to walk to the convention centre. Holly and Parady were likely already waiting for him as it were.
He hoped to sneak out of the back entrance adjacent to the toilet when he was ready so he wouldn't have to worry about his co-workers noticing him. This was not because August was embarrassed by his costume, but rather because he knew everyone would take up what precious little time he had with all their questions and annoying comments.
At the door to the loo, August unlocked it with his key and entered. A tiny sink with a mirror, toilet, and cleaning supplies greeted him. Placing the garment bag on the door hook, August unzipped it fully, revealing the brown pin-striped suit inside. Grinning so wide it hurt, he quickly began stripping down to his boxers.
Four minutes later, August was straightening a brown and purple floral tie in the mirror, chewing at his lip in anticipation. He'd always loved the idea of cosplay. When Parady had told him he'd gotten them tickets to the convention for Holly's birthday, August had been ecstatic, but then also a bit miffed he wouldn't have time to prepare a costume. As always, Parady had come through with something beyond expectation.
Buttoning up the suit jacket, August noted it was tight around his waist when he did them all up, so he left the bottom two undone. The trouser legs were also too long, so he had to fold them up and underneath. It made sense, as August wasn't nearly as skinny nor as tall as the man the suit was intended for. He believed everything else to be perfect, though. All he had to do now was comb his mop of curly hair with his hand a bit and hope his stubble wouldn't distract from his overall appearance.
Staring at his reflection, August never knew what to make of his own features. They were quite average from all sides. Nothing about his face ever stood out to him as being unique or interesting. Plain and boring, was how Trish Taylor described him in Year 7. Parady had asked her with the hopes she'd say something nice to give August a much-needed confidence boost. Plain, boring, and just a right bit too cheeky for it, she'd said. He hadn't disputed her, then, and reflected on her comment while looking into his grey eyes till they blurred. It seemed wrong to pair such a brilliant suit with such an average face, but August told himself as long as Holly thought he looked decent enough, he'd be all right.
God, he hoped she would.
Over the years, there'd always been little hints, he thought, that gave August a sense that Holly might have wanted to push their relationship to the next level. The way she smiled whenever he got in trouble with the teachers for chopsing too much. When she held his hand that one time at the zoo after the tigers gave her a scare. He'd say something completely idiotic when trying to prove a point and she'd just laugh at him with abandon. It was a sweet laugh, like sleighbells during Christmas.
August told himself she was just being a good friend and he was returning the favour by bringing her lunch on his break, tutoring her in maths for Uni, buying her things her parents couldn't afford—thinking of her, smiling at her, loving her. It had never been a romance, just that hard-to-come-by really really good friendship, but maybe they both wanted something more now that they were older. August knew he did, it was just a matter of broaching the subject, which he'd always been rubbish at, but nothing came from not trying. Even if Holly turned him down, August had to trust they'd still try and be mates.
Knowing he was wasting precious time, August shook himself free of his anxiety-ridden thoughts and crouched over his pile of discarded clothes. He pulled everything out of his old trouser pockets: wallet, keys, phone, nametag, and silver rod, then piled all his old clothes into the garment bag. Everything else went into the suit's trouser pockets, aside from the silver rod—aka the Doctor's sonic screwdriver—which he lovingly put in the inner jacket pocket. As he zipped up the garment bag, August had a nagging feeling he was forgetting something, but couldn't quite figure out what.
'Keys, tag, wallet, phone, sonic…' he thought aloud, patting down his pockets. 'What else is there? What else, what el—OH!' August shouted, smacking himself in the forehead when he realised. 'Bollocks! THE thing!'
Oh, he was so thick! In his rush, he'd completely forgotten to grab Holly's gift from underneath the register! He'd have to go back for it now, wasting more time and running headlong into the exact situation he wanted to avoid with his co-workers. Man alive, if Lars saw him, Clarence in storage, or that dodgy fellow always in the Roman section—August would never hear the end of it!
'Thickthickthickthickthick!' he told himself, checking the time on his watch (he had eight minutes before the bus arrived at its stop) as he bolted down the hall towards the gift shop, praying nobody was there.
Luckily, the gift shop was empty. Lars was likely on his lunch break and Marley stayed locked up in his office if he wasn't yelling at anyone. August darted towards the register, ducking underneath. To his horror, he couldn't immediately spot the brown paper bag with Holly's gift anywhere. Rummaging through the piles of supplies, defunct items, barcode scanners, and papers in a fuss, August prayed the bag had been moved underneath it all, but kept coming up empty.
'Where is it!?' he exclaimed frantically, knowing he was definitely going to be late if he didn't find it soon. Never mind how terrible he was going to feel if the bag had completely disappeared. Without it, August doubted he would have the confidence to commit himself to Parady's plan and he didn't want to disappoint Holly after telling her he'd gotten her something special for her birthday.
Too wrapped up in his search, August didn't hear Lars amble his way into the shop, eating the last bits of a ham sandwich. When the boy heard the ruckus behind the register, he frowned. Narrowly avoiding being hit by a plastic container and hole puncher, Lars came up behind the register, watching August fuss about with an amused grin.
'Oi, watcha doin' there, Keyes?'
Startled, August banged his head against the bottom of the register, cursing profusely as he stood fully, rubbing at the sore spot. Lars blinked a few times, taking in August's appearance piece by piece, before bursting out laughing.
'Oh, hello Doctor!' he squeaked, walking to August's opposite side to get a better look at him. 'Where have you been hiding all this?! Just look at yah! I never thought I'd see the day when TARDIS-boy got an upgrade! Full suit and all!'
'I don't have time for you to gawk like a twp, Lars,' August hissed, face flushed. So much for not being embarrassed, he thought to himself. 'There was a brown paper bag here before I left. Where's it gone?'
'Dunno,' shrugged Lars, grinning like a maniac. 'Maybe whoever's disappearing people took it. Is that why you're here, Doc? Come to find where Mrs Pepper popped off to? Was it the Daleks or the Cyberman this time?' He started cackling in a crazed fit as if he'd just told the world's best joke.
August remained unamused. 'I'm serious,' he told Lars, glancing at the time on the register monitor. Five minutes left.
'Course you are, mate,' said Lars soberly. 'You should ask Maria, though. She was cleaning up here a moment ago.'
'Thank you,' sighed August, picking up the garment bag he'd discarded in his search and heading for the museum floor.
Maria always had a one-thirty tour in the Egyptian Section. She'd be there, getting ready.
Lars followed after August. 'C'mon—can you at least give us a spin, Doc?' he called. 'Maybe point about that toy you're always hiding in your pockets?' Lars mimed the motion. 'Oh! What about the accent? I've always wanted to hear your try at being English! Or how about the catchphrase? It's that French word, right? Hey, just one go, eh?'
'Leave it alone, Lars,' August called back. If only he hadn't been in such a rush the first time, he thought, biting at his lip in annoyance. There always had to be some complication he supposed—just that itty bitty extra bit of pressure to make the end feel worthwhile. At least as soon as he found out what Maria had done with the bag he could be gone. Mind, dealing with Lars the next day wasn't going to be a picnic, but he could deal with that then. Right now, August just wanted to be with his friends.
Maria was right in the middle of practising a speech on mummification when August spotted her. Her tour group was beginning to gather nearby. Most of them were older folks, but there was one woman—her face covered with a dark shawl and hood—that stood out among the crowd. August didn't see her, too worried about the time and Maria to notice, but she saw him and her eyes lit up.
'Maria,' August called across the exhibit. Maria started, having been too absorbed in her speech to notice his approach. The cards that had been in her hands went up into the air and she immediately bent down to pick them up. 'There was a brown paper bag under the gift shop register. It's gone now. Lars said you might have done something with it?' August was saying as she sorted through her now mix-matched cards.
'Right, yes,' said Maria, clearing her throat. 'I didn't know what it was, so I brought it to the storage lockers for safekeeping. You'll find it in the cabinet to the left, next to the biscuits.'
'Thanks,' said August hurriedly.
Maria, giving up on her cards, looked up only to discover August five paces away from her, already heading in the direction of the lockers. She stared after him, feeling her cheeks going red. She'd never seen August in such a tight-fitting suit (she'd never seen him in any, really) and Maria wondered if he knew what he looked like from behind. She found she couldn't take her eyes off of his rear until he backpedalled in the exhibit exit, having run into Lars. Uh oh, she thought, knowing how much of a nuisance Lars could be.
August glared at Lars and the cell phone in his hand. It was pointed directly at August's face, likely recording. Lars was watching the screen, grinning. 'Come on, Doc,' he said innocently. 'Least you can do is the catchphrase. Just once and I won't ask again.'
'I already told you no,' said August sternly, moving to step around Lars only for the boy to block him again. August bit at his tongue to keep from screaming.
'Do it and I'll let you leave,' Lars told him in a less friendly tone.
'Lars…' said Maria, coming up behind the two. Lars looked at her. Maria pointed behind him to her tour group a few paces away. They were impatiently waiting on her but enjoying the employee drama all the same.
Lars turned to look at them, lowering his phone. 'Well, he just has to do it, doesn't he?' he asked them. 'Or else why dress up? For his mummy?' August's annoyed glare turned cold as ice at the remark. Lars grinned at that, knowing he finally had August's attention. 'It's a small town, Keyes. Everyone's always talkin' about the day you tried to play the hero. Didn't work out for you, did it? Victoria Keyes, always letting her son enjoy his little delusions of grandeur and time and space. Look where that got her. Crispier than a—AGH!'
Lars quickly found his shirt around one of August's fists. The other one was poised in the air above, ready to break his nose. The onlookers gasped in shock at the scene, Maria putting her hand on August's shoulder, telling him all the reasons it wasn't worth it.
Lars ignored Maria's blathering, keeping his eyes trained on August's, watching the geek's nose flare in anger without an ounce of regret or fear.
There was a long moment of silence from all parties, and then, in the distance, the brakes of a large vehicle sounded from the road. Everyone heard it—no one but August cared to listen.
The bus, he realised and knew he'd played right into Lars's hands.
August let go.
Lars straightened his shirt, sniffing and wiping his nose. 'Yeah, we both know you wouldn't do anything your precious Doctor wouldn't approve of,' he said. The two stared at each other a moment longer before Lars broke eye contact and stalked off towards the gift shop.
With him gone, Maria came to stand at August's side. 'He was way out of line there, he was. Bringing up… Well, Lars is always trying to get under everybody's skin, isn't he?' She sounded completely relieved and yet still somewhat scared.
'Are you alright?' Maria asked when she noticed August was trembling.
He looked up at Maria brightly. 'Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine,' he said. 'Locker room you said?'
'Yeah…' said Maria, quietly.
August nodded and headed in that direction, keeping his head down so no one could see how watery his eyes were. No one did, except that woman in the shawl and hood who looked after him with a smile in her dark eyes.
In the locker room, August banged his palm against the wall and kicked over a nearby rubbish bin. It'd been over a decade since the incident. Why he got so worked up about the mention of it still August didn't know. Maybe because it was Lars. Of all people. Lars, who didn't know what the hell he was going on about, and now August was going to be late for the convention and seeing Holly because of him and… and…
August kicked the bin further, plopping down on the set of benches in the centre of the room, letting his head rest in his hands. What did it matter why? He'd nearly walloped a 16-year-old. Lars wouldn't report him, not unless he could get a bloody nose on camera, but still. As an adult, August needed to be better. The last thing he wanted to do was stoop to Lars's level. The boy was a brat. Who cared what he said or thought? August knew what had actually happened to his mam as did anyone who knew to stay away from tabloids. There was nothing more he could have done—August knew that.
As always, it still didn't feel like enough.
Wiping down his face, August glanced at his reflection in the metal of the lockers, feeling somewhat judged for his behaviour by the brown pin-striped suit he wore. If that were possible.
'What would the Doctor think?' he sneered in mock of Lars' obnoxious tone. 'The Doctor wouldn't ever notice little ole' me, you know. But if I were him, I'd…' And his face fell once again, having little strength left for anger. 'Well, I definitely wouldn't be sticking around here.' And one thought led to another. 'Holly and I could travel for her birthday, couldn't we? Go to the very first Comic Con, see the Singing Towers of Delirium, the Medusa Cascade, or visit that place in Paris she's always talking about. The Luxembourg Gardens, I think. Or was it the Catacombs?' he mused as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
Bringing up his contact list, August texted Parady he was going to be late after having missed the bus.
That's two in one day, Augie. I think you've set a new record, came Parady's reply while August fetched the brown paper bag from where Maria had stored it. Then a second message: I can pick you up in 5.
August smiled, feeling somewhat better knowing Parady always had his back and texted his thanks, then pocketed his phone. Brown paper bag in hand, he left the locker room, once again trying to build up his confidence for Holly and ignore an absurd feeling that something sinister had been set into motion.
Outside the museum, in the parking lot, a figure in the shadows watched as August waited patiently for Parady to arrive.
It was that woman in the shawl again. From beneath her robes, she produced a pair of futuristic-looking binocs that she raised. Several pictures taken over the course of the day popped up across the HUD as she turned one of the dials on the side. They were all from the museum with one particular person in common. She smiled when the playback ended on an image of that person's face—August's face—as he held tightly onto Lar's shirt.
'Isn't he just perfect for it?' she voiced to no one in particular. 'All that fire and spirit, but none of the ego or subterfuge? Oh!' she shivered. 'He'll need some adjustments first, if we want to implement him correctly, but won't that just be the cream on the cake?'
She lowered the binocs as a blue convertible pulled up beside August. He opened the car door with a smile and laugh, climbing in. Seconds later, the convertible pulled away and began down the road towards its destination.
The woman in the shawl smiled after it and with a sudden flash of blinding white light, she was gone.