Page 99 of By the Fae

“How long’s a while? The expo is the weekend after next.” She took her glasses off, evidently giving up the pretence of needing them.

I simply shrugged, while redirecting all my energy into not turning into the sobbing, snotty mess I’d been for the past two days.

“He’s done this before,” August said. “Several times. Just up and left without filling out any holiday requests. The last time he was gone an entire year! The return paperwork was a nightmare.”

“A year?” I asked, feeling a tiny bubble of hope rise inside me. A year I could handle. I could wait a year for him. If he’d let me. “Only a year? Not two decades?”

“Two decades?! Crikey, why would he be gone that long? Do you know something you’re not telling me?”

“No,” I said. The word falling somewhere between a shout and a squeak. August nodded, either forgetting that humans had the capability to lie, or else forgetting I was human.

“Very well. In that case, if he’s not back by the expo, I’m gonna need you to present the game to the association.”

“Uh—”

“And for the rest of your probation, or until Goldie returns, whichever one comes first, you can shadow Seth.”

Seth was Goldie.

Walking into his office felt like cutting my chest open, placing my heart on his desk, and smashing it into a bloody pulp with the metal drip tray of his coffee machine.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. And yet, I wanted nothing more than to gaze into those green eyes and have him tell me everything would be okay. That I didn’t screw it up. That he’d been joking all this time. That he’d forgiven me for doing the one thing he’d expressly forbidden me from doing.

But he wasn’t my Goldie. And it wasn’t just his smoky grey aura. It was the way he spoke to me, the looks he gave me, the menial jobs he had me do.

I figured I only needed to put up with everything for another week and a bit. Then I would get my own office, my own game to work on. Perhaps if Goldie didn’t come back, I could finish our game.

He’d probably like that. Wouldn’t he?

That way, I could moon over an animated version of him instead of the thumbnail of his miserable face.

I kept Goldie’s phone in my bag, charged it up every night in case he called himself. Every spare moment I got to myself, I tried to hack into it. Putting in passcode after passcode until it flashed up an error message and locked my attempts for another half an hour.

A desperate idiot, that’s what I felt like, but I’d convinced myself that if only I could access his phone, I could tether myself to him a little longer.

His flatmates hadn’t attempted to contact me, and neither had I with them. Guilt and embarrassment weighed heavy on me. By Friday, I’d caved and texted Joey.

Hi Joey, it’s Holly. Have you heard anything from him?

I wanted to apologise, beg for her, and their, forgiveness, but I didn’t even know where to begin with that clusterfudge.

Hi Holly, nothing yet,she replied. NotScrew you bitch, how dare you tear up my family like that?I breathed a sigh of unearned relief.

She followed the message with more.

Hang in there. Things might seem shit at the moment, but you’ll get through.

I’m always here if you need to cry.

Or vent.

I’m mad at him too.

His real name is Blankets, by the way.

Blankets Golden.

I laughed out loud at that. The laughter immediately mutated into a fresh round of sobbing. I finally knew his real name, and it was everything pre-Monday-Holly could have ever wished it to be, but it was too late. Too late to tease him about it. To push those exact buttons I knew would have him smiling and scowling at the same time.

---