Page 11 of Drink Up, Darling
“He might actually just be a shy man who wants to jazz up his boring life,” Athens surmised, the vinyl of his trousers sticking slightly as he switched his weight to his right leg. Dariel, for the umpteenth time, found himself glancing over Athens’ full body. The deep arch of his back, and the smooth, delicate bobbing of his neck as he swallowed. Athens turned to face him suddenly and Dariel took a step back.
“You find anything?” he asked, but Dariel knew Athens was aware of what he’d been doing.
“No, not really.” Dariel spoke too hastily for his own liking, dropping himself into Awkward Land.
‘Like what you see?’
Athens straightened up before he gave Dariel a chance to respond, eyes scanning Dariel’s face, really not helping at all. His eyelids drooped. “I’m only messing with you. Here, let’s take a seat. Talk a bit. I want to get to know the famous Dariel Hale.”
Athens ushered them both to the long Chesterfield against the wall, sitting himself on the far corner and giving Dariel plenty of space to choose from.
“You know my full name?” Dariel questioned, sitting down with enough space between them to make it less uncomfortable forhim.
Athens held up his hands. “Guilty,” he said before relaxing back down into the arm of the chair. “I’m actually quite a fan of your work. Still got one of your jackets from the late nineties. I was trying to make conversation.”
He knows me?
‘Long-time fan, my friend.’
Oh.
“So what made you decide to start designing?” Athens inquired as a genuine fan would.
Dariel leaned forward, comfort loosening his muscles. “Oh, well, I’ve always been into wanting to wear things that stand out, not in an egotistical way, more a freedom way. Going against the norm.” For the first time, that question hadn’t annoyed him.
“I get that. I mean, look at me.” Athens gestured to his own attire. “I was hardly my grandmother’s favourite child.”
Dariel chuckled at that. “Are you… like, into thegoth sceneor something?”Asked the sixty-four-year-old grandfather. Nice one, Dariel. Really showing your age there.
“For now.” Athens shrugged, a smirk forming as he watched Dariel’s eyes intently.
“How old are you, really?” Dariel’s confidence was in full swing now. He was pleased it was back, he’d missed it.
“Ha. I see you calculating. I’m forty, as of a few weeks ago. A baby, really. This is the only life I’ve lived, technically. Which is… not the same for you, I’m guessing?”
“I’m sixty-four.”
Athens’ eyes widened. “Wow. So you’re actually older than Mr Mystery,” he gestured down the hall with his thumb.
“I presumed I was.”
Athens was fully intrigued now, leaning on both his knees. “Can I ask how many lives you have lived then?”
Dariel sunk in on himself, but brushed it off. “I was meant to start life number five a week ago, but this email threw my plan off track.”
Athens didn’t speak for a moment, then he brought a leg over his knee. “You were going to disappear? Begin again?”
“Dariel has done his time.”
Athens’ brow furrowed. “So you…what, move away and start fresh?”
“It’s got to be done.”
“But your image, you’re well known. You’re in magazines, you’ve appeared in fashion shows!”
“It won’t be as easy as it has been in the past.”
“How were you going to do it?”
