Chapter 9: Shadow of the Night, Shadow in My Mind

Silence was all Rody heard. Was it perhaps the reason the thoughts inside his mind were so loud?

Having been exhausted from the cycling, he stopped by the sidewalk and just sat there on his bike, panting as he gazed up at the starry night sky above. It wasn't that late in the night, but it wasn't quite early either. He was the only person on the usually busy road, the illumination shining down from the streetlight and emphasizing his lonesome presence on this quiet night. It was just him, the stars above and his racing heart.

For as long as he had lived in this bustling city, he had gotten himself familiar with this very street, down to every nook and cranny of it. He grew up in this neighborhood, cycled down the same road every day to work and walked to the same store every time he needed to get the most basic of grocery, only occasionally venturing somewhere different to take Manon there for a date. Therefore, it wasn't the fact that he was tired from cycling home-he had done so plenty of times ever since he even knew how to ride his old bike he got in middle school, he was used to it. It was just… whatever happened there.

The memory from merely a few hours ago flooded back to him. When he arrived in front of Vincent's apartment, nothing seemed strange about it. Compared to the restaurant, the hallway leading to Vincent's place was… tame in terms of decoration. If Rody even dared say, it was more decently decorated. Not that nicely decorated, but decent to the interior of the restaurant. Aside from questioning if he could trust his own personal preference or if his distaste to the décor was because he had never such luxury to afford it, one question he was asking himself while on the way there was just, what could Vincent possibly need him for at this time of the hour? Although he was certainly relieved it wasn't the dangerous possibility he briefly had in mind, it was still worth asking that question, and he was almost certain he wasn't invited as a guest.

Well, only one way to find out, and Rody knocked after taking a deep breath.

"Coming."

Vincent's signature monotone voice rung from inside the room, followed by the sound of his footsteps approaching the door before the door swung open. There Vincent was, standing at the doorway in a different outfit that admittedly threw Rody off at first. He knew Vincent wasn't always wearing his work attire-some would describe him as a weirdo, but he definitely wasn't that weird-but there was just a drastic change in his outfit that made Rody stay quiet for a good moment to truly take it all in. Instead of his pristine white chef shirt that Rody could never understand why he could keep so clean, he was in an oddly normal-looking, long-sleeved black shirt with matching black pants. Despite that, his hair was still as nicely kept as always, which was especially messing with Rody-this man was at home, in a casual outfit, and his hair looked perfect, like he had never laid down or rolled in bed in his goddamn life. Rody couldn't decide if that was extra as hell, or admirable.

"My eyes are up here, Rody." Vincent spoke, chuckling as Rody looked up to his face. Rody's face turned from confused to blushing a deep red, arguably even redder than he had ever been, even if it was with Manon, when a realization hit him.

Had he been… staring at Vincent's chest this entire time?

"O-Oh hey Vince!" Rody started making a bunch of weird motions, which definitely wasn't helping him hide the fact that he was nervous and embarrassed. "Y-Yep, here I am, in the flesh, super stoked to be here, wouldn't want to be in any other place on this fine night."

Vincent just gave him a blank stare before letting out a chuckle, this one louder than the last. "You don't need to act so excited. No one is that happy to work."

"So does that include you too? I thought cooking is your passion."

Another blank stare before Vincent spoke again. "Just fucking come in, will you?"

Rody gave him a cheeky smile as Vincent stepped aside as an attempt to mask the fact his heart felt like it was bouncing all around his chest. What was that? Why was that? Why was Rody staring at Vincent's chest? His shirt's collar wasn't even that low, Rody had seen worse, where the guy might as well wear a bra and it would've made no difference. Yet, the teeny tiny window of exposed chest on Vincent was enough to make him lose focus? Did it have something with the fact he always had his entire upper body covered saved for his arms, even up to his neck? For now, for his peace of mind, he would write it off as that. Yes, yes, Rody was just taken off guard by the unexpected casual look, even though he should've definitely expected it. Like, for goodness's sake, the guy was at his apartment. No one should be thinking he would casually be existing in the comfort of his own home in a proper black-tie suit.

Although, that certainly was something Rody would love to witness.

"Woah."

Speaking of his apartment, the moment Rody took a step inside it, he couldn't help letting out a gasp. Now, not to get him wrong, he was very much fine with his apartment now. It was okay, even though it was slowly falling apart, and the air conditioner would break down occasionally… and the lights would flicker randomly… and the oven sometimes sounded like it would randomly catch fire if the temperature ever went one degree Fahrenheit higher…

Yeah, it wasn't really the best. In fact, by someone's standards out there, probably Vincent's, it was pretty damn sad.

But it had grown on him. It was where he would look forward to every day at the end of the shift. It was where he slept, ate, pondered his life choices and wondering what the hell he was doing with them, and just let himself go whenever he was exhausted. Nothing beat flopping onto your bed after a long, hard-working day. Its messy yet homey interior was a complete contrast to what he was seeing right before him right at this moment.

They say one's house reflects who they are as person, and it especially rung true here. In front of his eyes was something polar opposite from Rody's ordinary, borderline run-down apartment-a luxurious, modern living room that already was as big as his entire apartment itself. The décor inside was exactly what Rody expected, with crimson red wallpaper that screamed "old money", nice wooden floor that didn't creak and actually made a pleasant sound with every step he took, red furniture to match the walls with green to complement it, an interesting cow-printed rug that was pretty odd for this place and a… rather strange-looking triangular coffee table. Seriously, what was that thing? He literally could be fine with anything in this place except that coffee table, and it wasn't even about a matter of personal taste-all he could think about while looking at it was how it would be so painful to accidentally bump against those sharp edges. But what did he know, perhaps rich people had so much money, they could care less about practicality as long as it looked cool.

"This place sure looks… uh… well…" Rody rubbed his chin, trying to find the best way to describe how impressed he was until he figured he should take this opportunity for something else. "Your taste in interior never goes anywhere I guess."

"There it is." Vincent pinched his nose, although this time in a rather endearing way from the way the corner of his lips slightly turned up into a smile. "I was wondering when that would come."

"Seems you're quite aware of your problem." Rody shot Vincent a mischievous smirk, almost stealing his signature shit-eating grin.

"It's not a problem if you don't see it as a one." Speaking of his shit-eating grin, there it was again as he crossed his arms in an almost sassy manner. "In fact, you'd better get used to it because you'll likely see it a lot."

"… What?"

"What-"

It took Vincent an unbelievably long while to realize what just came out of his mouth.

"I-" Vincent swiftly covered his mouth, as if to withdraw the words he damn well knew he'd never be able to take back. "I mean, I plan to hold more dinner parties so I'll probably call you here again in the near future."

"Uh huh…" Rody tilted his head and put on hand on his hip, on his face a curious look as he put in no effort to hide the fact he was really wondering the legitimacy of that statement, but thankfully, like always, he dropped it rather quickly. Rody was a stupid little guy, and these were the times Vincent was grateful of it. "Well anyway, where's everyone? I thought this was a dinner party."

"It is."

"And… I'm assuming I'm not a guest here."

As soon as Vincent managed to get back his usual proper posture, he lost it immediately afterward as he choked at that sentence. Not because it was ridiculous of him to even consider the possibility that he could be a guest, but because…

"Pfft-" Vincent faked a haughty laugh, stopping himself from finishing that thought at all cost. Although it was notably less natural than the one he would give to delusional people, it was arguably better than him trying to explain why Rody wasn't a guest. "No, I had to find someone to cater for them when they arrive."

"Figured." Rody chuckled as he rolled his eyes, his expression seemed somewhat relieved. "But you couldn't have told me so before? Need I be here for you to say that?"

"Well yes actually, so that you don't make an excuse about why you can't come." Vincent shot a wicked smirk at him

"Guilty as charged." Rody returned it proudly. "But technically I could still leave, so give me one reason why I shouldn't right now."

"Hmm… I'm your boss."

"Still can leave."

"I told you to."

"Same answer."

"You need the money."

"Kind of, but I can just get another job somewhere else."

"I'll pay extra."

That wiped the grin off Rody real fast. "Fine."

"That's what I thought." Vincent didn't even bother to hide the satisfied look of victory. In fact he was pridefully showing it off, borderline shoving it in Rody's face.

There was a pout on Rody until it changed into a smirk. "Say, you mentioned this is a party, no?"

Vincent raised an eyebrow. Right off the bat, he could just sense that something was off, like Rody had something up his sleeves. Vincent just didn't know what. "Yes…?"

"I'm not going to lie... Thought it was a trap at first, 'cause don't you need friends to throw a party?"

Silence. Silence was all that followed the joke. Not a word was spoken. Not an action was made. Not even a damn fly was buzzing around, but that would probably be for the best, because otherwise someone was getting fired.

Thankfully, the doorbell rung, saving Rody from his inevitable, unfortunate fate. Well, could you even call it inevitable if he did it to himself?

"The dishes are on the counter."

Rody let out a flustered "Yes, chef" before scurrying to the direction Vincent just shrugged his head at, and a rush of déjà vu came over Vincent.

He wasn't mad at the joke. He wanted to be, but he couldn't be. Instead, he found himself desperately trying his hardest not to laugh, which was, pardon his language, fucking pathetic. He swore he wasn't sick, at least when he touched his forehead to check, he was fine. But he felt sick. As many people had known, he wasn't someone easy to entertain or surprise. Getting him to laugh at your joke was on the same level as getting him to even recognize your existence-it had better be something spectacular. He wasn't going to laugh at a lame, low-hanging fruit joke, yet ironically, it was exactly what happened.

Perhaps it was Rody'd sneaky execution that caught him off guard, or it was… Rody himself?

Not even going to entertain it, Vincent told himself as he turned the knob and let in his friends to show Rody that he, indeed, had friends.

There was nothing particularly special about the party itself. In fact, compared to the ones Rody had had in his college days, it was a super small party. Rody expected at least twenty or so people to show up, but instead only four guys showed up. Wasn't Vincent supposed to be super popular? Shouldn't he have more people in his social circles? Although, the other way also made sense-because he was so popular, he kept his social circles only consisting of people he could truly trust. One thing that was in line with his expectations, however, was that they all looked very classy and dressed in clothes that probably cost the same as his grocery money for three months.

Nothing about them quite stood out to Rody either. They all acted like how you would expect rich, out-of-touch people would behave. One asked how Rody even got to meet Vincent given his "level", a super backhanded, not at all subtle question that did get on Rody's nerves, but was quickly dismissed because he was quite used to it. Another talked about how Vincent was less harsh back in college and a potential girl that his friends were betting whether he was serious about, both of which did surprise Rody, but he figured it was none of his concerns. Supposedly, the one thing that managed to catch his attention was an old friend he had during his college days, and he, out of the four people who showed up, was the most normal out of them. But again, they just exchanged a few words, nothing crazy about it.

Little did he knew, something crazy would happen later on.

The party was going well when Rody felt the need to use the bathroom. Since everyone had been catered and were just chatting amongst themselves, he figured he could just quickly dash to the bathroom real quick and no one would even know he was gone by the time he came back. So, with the fast legs he had trained with his waiting job at La Gueule de Saturne, he ran into the kitchen swiftly but also making sure to do so in a sneaky way. After going through the first door in the kitchen, he was faced with the choice to either go left or right, and somehow, something in him to told him to go left, so that was what he did.

When he pushed open the door, however, what he was met with wasn't a bathroom that was presumably decorated with gold in the most obnoxious, tacky way possible, but rather an elegant bedroom. Even if smaller than the living room, it was still big enough to fit multiple people at once, opposite from his that he already had a hard time cramming himself in. With a big double bed, a neat, decently sized desk and a nice tall window overlooking the city, one look and you could tell a wealthy person lived here. And unlike the living room, the bedroom looked like someone with good taste lived here. Had Vincent just been trying to show off with tacky décor for the front of his apartment and restaurant, and his taste wasn't actually half bad?

This wasn't the bathroom, Rody knew that, and he should have left the moment he opened the door. But, as if put under a spell, he started walking in further. One step, two steps, three steps… With each step that was taken, the rational voice in his head became louder. This was a bad idea. He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be here. He should leave. He should run. Yet, those thoughts were all drowned out, and the only thing he could do was to go in deeper and deeper into the room. Something about this room kept pulling him in. Something about Vincent in this room kept pulling him in, and he was unable to resist. In fact, he didn't even put up the fight to stop it.

This room… it was Vincent's. That desk, it must be where he often leaned his tall body against. That mirror, it must be where his charming eyes looked into every morning to make sure his hair looked neat and perfect. That window, it must be where the sunlight kissed his fair beautiful skin at the crack of dawn. And that bed, that must be where he rested his pretty head on every night. This room, it was luring Rody in with Vincent's essence, and he couldn't help welcoming it.

That was, until there was a slam of the door that broke him out of his trance.

"What are you doing?"

"Shit" was absolutely a fitting thing for Rody to say under his breath as he ever so slowly turned his head and there Vincent was, standing at the doorway, the light from the hallway shining in and illuminating his silhouette. From the look Vincent was giving him, Rody knew it was his last day of being alive on this planet. He should've enjoyed it more while it lasted.

Vincent didn't look angry that Rody broke into his bedroom. He didn't look confused about why Rody was in his bedroom. He just looked…

Ominous.

And that was what scared Rody. He would rather know someone was mad at him, rather than not knowing what he should be expecting.

"Gah-" Rody let out a frightened gasp. "I-uh-"

"I asked, what are you doing?"

Vincent didn't just talk, he growled, sending chills down Rody's spine.

"Vince, I-It's not what it looks l-"

"What else could this fucking be?" With the deepest voice one could ever hear in their lifetime, Vincent approached Rody rapidly, almost hastily, while maintaining eye contact the entire way. As Vincent descended further from the light and deeper into the darkness of the room, Rody could no longer Vincent's expression, let alone trying to read it. His heartbeat increased more and more as each second passed by, his mind going blank. He knew trying to run was futile, yet he also couldn't open his mouth to simply say "I was looking for the bathroom". Was it a bad excuse considering he was in the middle of the room already? Absolutely, but it was still something. Instead, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get anything out. Every word he could possibly say were stuck on the tip of his tongue, and escaping his lips were just stutters and breathy gasps.

His mind snapped back to reality again when he felt something hitting the back of his knees. He turned his head back, and to his horror, he saw a bed sheet. It was the bed. Unbeknownst to him, Vincent had gotten so close to him that his body started backing itself until he was now stuck with no escape route, especially not with Vincent standing so closely to him, their bodies were practically touching. Any closer and Rody felt like he could fall onto the bed, giving Vincent an ample opportunity to trap and loom over him with his slender body and caress him with his dexterous hands-

"Huh-?"

Vincent wasn't talking in a dangerously low tone anymore and had gone back to his normal, monochrome voice that Rody had come to love. His eyes widened before pushing himself far away from Rody, clutching his chest and he breathed heavily. "I… What… How…"

"Y-You okay Vince-"

"Just-let me-"

Vincent couldn't even finish his sentence as he made his way to the bed, his legs looking like they could give out at any moment, and sat down on it. All while he held his head low with his hands clutching it, panting as he did so, all Rody could do was to stand there idly while staring at him. Rody knew he had not been here for a full week yet, but this sight stunned him to this core. In front of him wasn't the arrogant chef that critics made him to be, wasn't the boss that was always checking what his employees were doing so he could come to fix or help as soon as possible, wasn't the man who already had on a tired, emotionless face until it turned into a shit-eating grin when he had the chance to mess with Rody. On the contrary, what Rody was seeing was a man cowering on his bed, his breath raspy, as though he blacked out and wasn't aware it was even happening himself. As Rody reached his hand out to try and get a hold of him, Vincent started inhaling a few times and his breathing slowly regulated again.

"Alright I-" Vincent finally spoke, although his voice was still rather quiet, as if he was scared to talk. "I'm sorry."

"Vince, you alright-"

"What did you say you were here for?"

Vincent cut Rody off before he could finish his question, but for some reason, Rody wasn't annoyed. He could sense that it was an attempt to move on from what just went on, and while Rody did have some questions, he figured he should just save them for later.

"I um, I was looking for the bathroom."

Vincent sighed as he stood up and headed out of the room, seemingly wanting to escape the situation as fast as he humanly could from how hasty and shaky his steps were. "Follow me."

The way to the bathroom was incredibly short, it took a minute at most to get there from the bedroom, but for some odd reason, it felt agonizingly slow. Each step felt heavy, like stones were strapped on both of his feet, and each second felt as though it lasted an eternity. The silence was excruciating as he could do nothing but to follow his boss closely, like a lost cat sticking to its owner.

It had always been a fact that Vincent was taller than Rody. Not that much taller, Rody would grimace, but still taller. However, this was probably the first time Rody had felt so… small compared to him, way smaller. It may be the tension, how he could see the back of his exposed neck to closely, or how the dim hallway light shone on him and casted a shadow that completely engulfed Rody. He could usually care less about what Vincent was thinking, as long as he didn't glare menacingly at him for something he did wrong or deduct his precious pay. Yet, at this very moment, he couldn't help wanting to beg Vincent to simply… tell him what was going on in his mind. Rody would not ever admit this, but he missed Vincent's grumpy complaints and his cheeky remarks. Tease him, scream at him, scold him all he wanted, Rody didn't care. Just, anything to escape this gloomy silence that was slowly killing him inside.

When he got out of the bathroom and returned to the living room, Vincent was waiting for him there, but it wouldn't stop bothering Rody that he seemed like a completely different person. The confident, upright posture was gone, and it was instead replaced by him leaning to the wall, his head low and arms crossed in a dejected way. Vincent was not someone to easily admit he wasn't fine, Rody knew that very well, and more often than not, Vincent did look like he had his shit together all the time. This was the very first time Rody had seen Vincent so… disheveled.

Strange, everything was still quiet, all the chatters were gone, as if no one was there. That was until he looked into the living room and realized that indeed, everyone was gone.

"Where'd everyone go?" Rody turned to Vincent, and only then did Vincent finally look up from the ground.

"They all went home already, that's why I noticed you were gone." As Vincent said it, he looked straight into Rody's eyes, as if regretting doing it.

"Oh…" Now it was Rody's turn to glance down at the floor, scratching his head in a nearly apologetic manner. He wanted to make an "I'm surprised you even noticed I was gone" joke, but held back as he was almost certain Vincent wouldn't take it well, not in this state. "Was I gone for that long?"

"Unsure, but"-Vincent sighed deeply-"doesn't matter, you can leave now."

"But-"

"You better go home, you have work in the morning."

Vincent pushed himself off the wall and walked towards the door, conveniently ignoring Rody on his way. There was so many questions on Rody's mind right now, so many unanswered wonders, but as he suspected, Vincent didn't look like he had the mental capacity to handle it at this moment, so he figured this was just going to be drowned out and forgotten, and they both were just going to move on with their days pretending nothing happened. Despite how much he didn't want it to be the case, how much he wanted to grab Vincent's shoulders and beg him to talk, did he even have the choice now?

"Well, night Vince."

"Goodnight, thanks for coming."

And with that, Rody disappeared behind the door, separating them for the night. In spite of that, it was as though their minds were one, both pondering what just transpired in that bedroom. As Rody let his mind drift while he stared up at the starry night sky, Vincent's eyes were down, his back pressed against the front door as he curled up on the floor, contemplating his actions. Finally, Rody was gone and his legs could collapse at last. It was exhausting, trying to keep an ordinary front while his heart felt like it could jump out of his chest at any given moment, his palms sweaty and his body quivering as though he was freezing.

How did that happen, from the moment he looked around and did not see Rody, to seeing Rody in his bedroom and being overwhelmed by an unexplainable urge? It was eating him up inside that even he couldn't figure out what it was.

Having his privacy invaded was high on the list of things he despised the most, it was simply human nature to him. Although he wouldn't himself a secretive person, there was also no reason for him to allow random people to just roam freely in his private space, especially not his bedroom. Nothing irked him more than looking down at the street from the window and catching someone staring up using a binocular, or a stranger stalking the outside of his restaurant when he had no business being there.

However, when he saw Rody standing there in the middle of his bedroom, what he was feeling wasn't anger.

He would love for it to be anger. He desperately wanted to believe it was anger, but something in him refused to just brush it off as that. At that very moment, he wanted to scream at Rody to scram out of there, he wanted to give Rody hell for snooping around his apartment without his permission. But instead, he was overcome by a strange feeling, or if he dared say, desire, and before he was even aware of it, he was right in front of Rody. He could feel Rody's chest on his, he could feel his breath, their lips were inches away and Rody was there, in front of his bed, one push away from landing on it.

And to his horror, it made him crave it more.

Vincent clutched his head, as if wanting to claw that thought out of his mind. He didn't want to think about it anymore. It wasn't the Vincent Charbonneau that he was. Vincent Charbonneau would've pulled Rody out of there and given him an earful for trespassing, as well as a warning that if this happened again, he would not hesitate to kick him to the curb. In fact, Vincent Charbonneau wouldn't have picked up the phone hours ago to call Rody. Rody wasn't supposed to be here at all, yet before he knew it, Rody's voice rung on the other side and he had to quickly make an excuse as to why he was calling this late into the night.

Vincent Charbonneau was greatly disappointed in him, so now this was his punishment.