Fic: Who Dunnit? {Day 1}
Mar. 29th, 2009 01:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cloversworld
Title: Who Dunnit?, Part 1/4
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clover71
Pairing: David Cook/ David Archuleta
Rating: NC-17 for the whole fic
Beta:rajkumari905
Description: A mystery/thriller fic that revolved around a 'who dunnit' or 'clue' theme.
Summary: AI Season 7's ten finalists spent a weekend at a house in a private island for their reunion four years after their season ended, likewise reuniting Cook and Archie almost a year after they broke up. However, people started to mysteriously disappear and the remaining members of their group began to suspect each other of being responsible for the disappearances. Will the thrilling events bring Cook and Archie back together?
Disclaimer:
1) Please note that this is purely fiction and none of the contents are real except for some of the characters used in this story.
2) Most characters used are based on real people but the details within do not purposely imply occurrences in real life; thus, anything here that concurs with real events may be completely coincidental.
3) This fic is created based solely on the imagination of the author and for non-profitable purpose.
4) Some establishments and/or organizations used in the story are existent but in no way owned by or connected with the author. Everything written in line with those establishments/ organizations are fictitious and are only created by the author.
Author's notes:
- Thanks to my lovely beta Pri (rajkumari905) for all her help. Please note though that due to my eyesight's limited capacity, I may have overlooked some corrections she had made; thus, if there are still mistakes, please blame it on me.
- The ambiance of this fic may irk many, so I will not force, although I encourage, everyone to read through it as bizarre events unfold in every scene.
~ begin ~
Author:
clover71Pairing: David Cook/ David Archuleta
Rating: NC-17 for the whole fic
Beta:
rajkumari905Description: A mystery/thriller fic that revolved around a 'who dunnit' or 'clue' theme.
Summary: AI Season 7's ten finalists spent a weekend at a house in a private island for their reunion four years after their season ended, likewise reuniting Cook and Archie almost a year after they broke up. However, people started to mysteriously disappear and the remaining members of their group began to suspect each other of being responsible for the disappearances. Will the thrilling events bring Cook and Archie back together?
Disclaimer:
1) Please note that this is purely fiction and none of the contents are real except for some of the characters used in this story.
2) Most characters used are based on real people but the details within do not purposely imply occurrences in real life; thus, anything here that concurs with real events may be completely coincidental.
3) This fic is created based solely on the imagination of the author and for non-profitable purpose.
4) Some establishments and/or organizations used in the story are existent but in no way owned by or connected with the author. Everything written in line with those establishments/ organizations are fictitious and are only created by the author.
Author's notes:
- Thanks to my lovely beta Pri (
rajkumari905) for all her help. Please note though that due to my eyesight's limited capacity, I may have overlooked some corrections she had made; thus, if there are still mistakes, please blame it on me.- The ambiance of this fic may irk many, so I will not force, although I encourage, everyone to read through it as bizarre events unfold in every scene.
~ begin ~
=== Day 1 ===
He had no idea why he had agreed to this. This was hardly the vacation he had in mind. He had not exactly planned to spend the weekend with people from his not too distant past… though a past he'd chosen to distant himself from.
He needed peace. He needed serenity.
And spending days with nine other people (or eleven according to Brooke if he included her husband Dave and Michael’s wife Stacy) was going to be the absolute opposite of his ideal relaxing break.
David Archuleta had just concluded his tour in Asia and Australia. And before that, he’d traveled across Central America promoting his second official album. He knew he had to work harder to keep his career on track and to surpass the criticisms that he encountered when he finally came out to the public. Ironically, he hadn’t plan on coming out too soon. But his controversial break-up with David Cook spurred the media to dig into their past.
Despite the fact that he had a blast during his three-month tour, he needed a break before his tour in the U.S. started on late spring. He was grateful that his manager had agreed to give him a month vacation.
But somehow he felt like it was a conspiracy because as soon as he found out about his granted leave, Brooke sent him an email inviting him to spend the weekend at the house in a private island that she recently inherited from her late grand uncle (a cousin of her grandfather). He should’ve known that ignoring the email would not work because on the same day, Brooke called him at least five times until he could not find any other means of escape and had to say ‘yes’.
Before David knew it, he had been booked to a flight to Michigan and Brooke had sent him instructions on how to get to Paint Lake Island through his email. He had not been able to ask Brooke to elaborate further on who would specifically be joining them on that weekend get-away, but she vaguely mentioned that she had invited the rest of the top ten during their season at Idol. Which meant David Cook could possibly be there. Great.
“I don’t see why you’re so worried about Cook being there,” Kristy had said when David called her to ask if she would be going. “It’s been almost a year since you guys broke up, haven’t you gotten over that yet?”
“I have,” David had said defensively, “but I haven’t seen him since. I might prove myself wrong if I see him again.”
“You can’t avoid him forever,” Kristy had sighed audibly over the phone, “or have you not heard that American Idol had been planning to invite you both during the finale this year?”
Jason had said the same thing when he called David later that day. “Will you please, for once, not think that it’s all about Cook. Brooke arranged this weekend get-away so we could have our long-planned reunion, which, may I point out, has been cancelled at least four times in the last two years already.”
“What chance is there that he won’t be there?” David had been psyching himself up that there still remained a small probability that Cook would not go. “I mean, he could be on tour, or… or he could be busy with recording and stuff.”
“Dude. Don’t pretend that you don’t keep tabs on the man.”
“I don’t!”
“Yeah. Right. I believe you,” Jason had said tediously and David could just imagine him rolling his eyes. “Look Archuleta. If you don’t get your butt on that plane to Michigan, I’m gonna go down there and whip your ass out of your cozy little thinking chair in your cozy little apartment.”
“I don’t have a thinking chair.”
“It’s the chair you sit on every time you think too much.”
So to make the story short, David had relented to his friends’ coaxing. He took the early flight from Los Angeles that Brooke had booked for him after he confirmed at the last minute, to give him ample time to catch the ferry that would bring him and the others to the island.
The cab turned into a curved narrow road that ran along the riverside. David stared out the window, memories of the past four years since he was in the competition lingering stubbornly on his mind. He thought about Cook, about their three-year relationship that somehow ended unpleasantly.
Just as he was about to dig deeper into his memory bank, the cab pulled up at the end of what seemed to be a wooden bridge or more like a dock, really, since it does not connect anywhere. At the far end of it, he saw some of his fellow former idols. After paying the cab driver, he lifted his backpack and got off, then opened the rear door to grab his large duffle bag from the back seat. He took a deep breath before walking up the wooden structure and saw Carly coming up to meet him with her arms outstretched. He caught a glimpse of Cook over Carly’s shoulder as she threw her arms around David. His ex-boyfriend was leaning against the railing, his eyes unmistakably fixed on David.
=== &&&&& ===
God, he’s so beautiful, David Cook thought as he watched David Archuleta walk gracefully along the dock with Carly. David looked so confident but uncertain at the same time. Cook knew it sounded ironic, but that’s the only way he could think of to describe David at that very moment. He didn’t miss the way David’s face radiated as he smiled and nodded ‘hellos’ to everyone he came across.
“I can’t believe you let him slip through your fingers, mate,” Michael Johns said while glancing from Cook to David.
It had been almost a year since he’d last seen him, and he thought he had finally gotten over him. He actually believed he had gotten over him. He struggled for months not to act on his desire to see David, to talk to him, to hold him; that it nearly drove him insane. After what seemed like eternity though, he managed not to think about him anymore, at least not every fucking second of the day. He had convinced himself that he no longer felt anything for David Archuleta. But now, he felt like his heart was about to stop beating as David approached him and Michael with his hypnotic eyes and blinding smile and said, “Hey guys, been a long time.”
Cook fought the urge to pull David close and wrap his arms around him and kiss him senseless. He knew he had to say something but the words were lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth. So he did nothing but gape at David, Michael’s, “Hey David, glad you could make it, mate,” floated through the air like some voice from a dream that sounded too distant and vague.
David must have taken Cook’s lack of response negatively and might have thought that Cook was being elusive since the younger man’s smile immediately faded and he simply nodded and turned to Jason and Kristy, who both led him to the ferry waiting by the dock. Cook’s gaze, naturally, followed David with certain awe.
“You okay mate?” Cook turned to Michael who seemed to have been studying him closely. “You look stupefied,” Michael said, snickering.
“Hmmm?” Cook stared at Michael blankly, not entirely sure what the Australian had just said because his thoughts were elsewhere.
Michael shook his head, grinning, “You’re hopeless mate. You’re obviously still into David.” Cook opened his mouth to protest but Michael pointed a finger at him and quickly said, “and don’t you even think of denying that.”
They all boarded the ferry as soon as the last people they were expecting arrived. And the boat soon whirred to life as the engine started and pulled away from the dock. It floated slowly along Iron River, passing through some of the privately owned islands where nature was left untouched.
Cook was observing David, who sat on a bench with Carly on the opposite side of the ferry. He seemed to be enjoying the scenery as he kept pointing at a distance, his face in complete awe.
“You miss him,” a voice from behind startled him, causing him to jump a little and he turned to see Kristy grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t you?”
“Me? No,” Cook tried to deny it, even if his heart said otherwise. “I’m over him.”
“Yeah right,” Kristy sneered. “Deny all you want Dave, but your eyes betray you. He missed you too, you know.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. He told me a while ago that seeing you again made him realize how much he missed you.” There was a spark in Kristy’s eyes, something she often had whenever spontaneous thoughts ran through her mind. Then she walked away, leaving Cook in contemplation of what she had just said.
The ferry picked up speed once it reached a wider portion of the river and Cook stood by the side, leaning on the railing as he breathed in the fresh air, hoping that the smell of sweet pine and clean water would somehow help clear his mind of any lingering thoughts about David. He still loved him. About that, he was certain. He had tried to move on, had hooked up with a couple of girls and even with a guy he’d met at one of his shows. But no one could ever fill the void inside him, the empty space that David’s absence had created.
Cook knew he shouldn’t dwell on it. He was, after all, the one who initiated the break up. He was the one who closed his doors on David without giving him a chance to explain what had really happened, until the younger man could no longer bear the silent treatment, and he left. Cook could still remember that day as clearly as if it had happened only recently.
He had arrived to an empty house from one of his trip to New York after a series of TV appearances and he found the letter that David had left on the bed they shared for more than two years. The letter that broke his heart and soul to pieces. And moments after, he likewise found David’s empty drawers and noticed that his spot in their walk-in closet had been cleared. David was gone. Cook had done nothing but sulk in the lonely corners of his house for months.
Kristy was right. He missed David. He had been stupid enough to believe a rumor and he was even more stupid not to give David the benefit of the doubt. He should have given David a chance to explain when he tried to, but instead, Cook had refused to listen and closed his doors on the younger man. He sighed knowing it was too late for regrets and ‘should-haves’. David has probably moved on by now, Cook thought.
“Cook?” Cook silently grumbled when his musings were interrupted and he turned around to see who had called out to him. David stood a few feet behind him, looking rather nervous or hesitant, Cook couldn’t really tell. But the younger man easily broke into a smile when Cook offered him a lop-sided one and he cleared his throat, then said, “Uhm…sorry, but we’re almost at the island. I just thought you should know so you could uhm… you know, gather your stuffs.”
Cook nodded once. “Thanks.”
“Oh, you’re welcome,” David’s eyes seemed to have brightened; the smile remained on his face even when he made his way to the corner where they all left their belongings.
It wasn’t until the engine made a roaring sound and the ferry slowed its pace that Cook noticed they were approaching the wooden dock that extended from an island few meters ahead. He heard someone, Chikezie he presumed, ask the ferryman, “Will you be back for us on Sunday sir?” as Cook was gathering his guitar case, large duffle bag and red backpack after everyone else had claimed their things.
“Monday. I only come out here on Fridays and Mondays during off-peak season,” was the ferryman’s reply.
David Cook was among the last to step onto the dock, along with Michael, Stacy and Carly. They all thanked Frank, the ferryman, after he had called out to them saying, “I’ll be back for you fellows on Monday around the same hour, okay?” Then his young assistant, Ted, untied the ropes from the dock that held the boat in place and they heard the screeching sound of the anchor being pulled up.
Brooke and her husband, Dave, and an older couple were all waiting at the end of the dock with an SUV, a car, and a Cherokee jeep parked behind them. As soon as Cook reached the welcoming committee, Brooke threw her arms around him, as she had with the others. She gave him a little squeeze as she said, “I’m so glad you could make it Dave.” Then Cook shook hands with her husband and when he turned to the older couple, Brooke affectionately introduced them as her ‘Aunt Trudy and Uncle Roger’. “Aunt Trudy is my mom’s second cousin. So they’re relatives,” Brooke had added while leading Cook to the Cherokee jeep where Michael and Stacy stood by waiting.
Cook looked around to see where David had gone and he saw the younger man inside the SUV with Jason, Kristy and Carly. He barely had a glimpse of Dave getting in the driver’s side of the vehicle when he suddenly felt something slightly wet hit his face. He grabbed onto the material and realized it was a hand towel that, he guessed, Michael had hurled at him.
As they traveled along the rough and bumpy road leading up to the house Brooke had inherited, Aunt Trudy and Uncle Roger, who both sat at the front seat, entertained them with stories about the island, but Cook wasn’t really paying attention. He somehow developed the habit of stretching his neck to glance at the road ahead constantly asking how much further they were from their destination when in reality, he was glancing at the SUV that was right in front of them.
Once they arrived at the house, or more like the manor, Brooke made them settle in their rooms immediately. It had only eight rooms and one was occupied by Brooke and Dave, so some had to share. Michael and Stacy, of course, had a room of their own. Jason had agreed to share with Chikezie and Ramiele and Syesha wanted to spend most time catching up since they haven’t spoken in months, so the two girls had volunteered to share a room as well.
Aunt Trudy and Uncle Roger, who were occupying a space at the attic, had informed them that they would be leaving that afternoon so either Jason or Chikezie could move to the attic once they’ve left.
Cook was secretly hoping that he would get a room near David’s at least, because he knew sharing a room with his ex-boyfriend was out of the question, so when Brooke directed him to one that was right across the room where David had entered, he couldn’t help but hug their hostess rather tightly in appreciation.
Brooke took a step back after Cook had released her. Her face lit up as she smiled. “I take it, you’re happy with the lodging arrangements?”
Cook laughed heartily. The melodic sound rumbled against his throat and echoed across the hallway.
=== &&&&& ===
Brooke left her guests at the second and third levels of the house and made her way down to the kitchen to start preparing lunch. She overheard some of her friends discussing plans to take a stroll around the vicinity after they unpacked.
Preparing meals for twelve people wasn’t much of a task since her caretaker, Mrs. Shelby, had been kind enough to help her out. So lunch was served in peace, except of course, for Michael’s incessant barrage of practical jokes.
There was the fart cushion that he had apparently slipped under Jason’s seat pad when he got up to help Mrs. Shelby bring the bowl of soup to the dining table. It made a disgusting noise when Jason slumped lazily back on his chair and everyone got a good laugh out of it at Jason’s stunned and horrified expression, “That wasn’t me!”
And as they started eating, more trick items that Michael had brought surfaced and Syesha had to discover in a messy way that she had fallen victim to Michael’s practical joke when the mashed potato she scooped with apparently a bending spoon didn’t make it to her mouth but instead plopped down her chest and slid all the way to her lap. This time, only Michael laughed while half the table got up to help Syesha clean up.
Brooke had to bite her tongue to control her temper as more trick items were revealed until the foaming sugar cubes Mike tricked Carly into putting in her tea ended up overflowing with white foamy substance that made a total mess on the dinner table. That was the tip of the ice and it had sent Brooke up the wall. She glared at Michael and firmly said, “Clean this up, now.”
No one knew that Michael could move as fast as he did as he tidied up everything in the dining area and even volunteered to help clean the kitchen. Stacy apologized endlessly for her husband’s immaturity.
By mid-afternoon, Michael had retrieved the stink bombs he had planted on the living room and the den and the balcony at Brooke’s bidding. The rest of their gang had gone out to hike around the premises, leaving Michael under the watchful eyes of Brooke.
Once assured that everything had been returned to normal, Brooke relieved Michael from his penalty and the Australian hurriedly made his way outside yelling, “Thanks Brooke! Sorry again for the trouble. See you later!”
Brooke shook her head as she watched the man disappear and she followed the path he took on her way out the front door but then caught sight of a lone figure in the living room. She had to take a few steps back to check if she had imagined it. She found Carly sitting on the couch browsing through the pages of a magazine.
“What are you doing here?” Brooke’s voice startled Carly and Brooke guessed that she probably snapped Carly out of her musings. “Why aren’t you out with the others?”
Carly shrugged and said, “I thought I’d rest for a bit. I tried to catch some snooze but I couldn’t. And when I came down here, everyone else was gone.”
“Wanna go for a walk with me then?” Brooke asked and Carly nodded once before getting up to follow Brooke outside. The cool breeze of spring blew gently across the leafy trees that surrounded the manor and the smell of white and red pines filled the air. The backyard was an unspoiled forest filled with huge birch trees. Shrubs grew around some trees and wildflowers of different colors bloomed on its surface. Birds twittered tunefully as they settled onto the branches of the treetops.
Brooke and Carly breathed in the fresh air, inhaling as deeply as they could. “This is a nice change from the city,” Carly said in her thick Irish accent. “Thanks for having us here Brooke. I’m sure the rest of the guys needed a change of environment like I did.”
“I couldn’t think of better people to spend the weekend here with than you guys,” was Brooke’s earnest reply. “I should be the one thanking you all for sparing some time, despite your busy schedules, and agreed to keep me company.”
“Oh honey,” Carly placed an arm around Brooke’s shoulders and pulled her closer then leaned her head against the side of Brooke’s. “I guess I can speak for the rest when I say that we feel guilty enough that we had to cancel the other weekend get-togethers you’ve planned for the past couple of years.”
“I’m just glad this one pushed through,” the smile on Brooke’s face was genuine and infectious and Carly found herself smiling back.
=== &&&&& ===
The sun was almost setting by the time they all got back to the manor after spending the entire afternoon exploring the island. There wasn’t much to see as the island was purposely left underdeveloped with the manor as the sole residence, but they discovered several small shacks around the island that included the boathouse down by the lake, storage sheds, a shed that housed the island’s generator and some others.
Carly saw Cook sitting at the two-seater wooden swing at the front lawn, quietly playing his guitar. She contemplated for a minute whether to join her friend or leave him in his rumination. She noticed that Cook kept glancing at the direction of the boathouse and when she followed his gaze, she saw David with Brooke and some of their friends flocked around Brooke’s aunt and uncle, who were leaving for the mainland along with Brooke’s helper Mrs. Shelby.
Following her instinct, Carly made her way to Cook, who slid further on the other side of the swing to give space for her to sit. “Hey stranger, how’s it going?” Carly greeted, her tone teasing and genial at the same time.
“Hey Carls,” Cook looked up briefly from his guitar then his gaze fell back on the metal strings, which he obviously strung half-heartedly.
“Have you talked to him yet?” Carly asked, in a more concerned than prying way. She didn’t emphasize whom she was referring to since she knew Cook would know.
Cook shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “Not really, no,” he murmured, eyes not leaving the instrument he was holding.
You should, Carly wanted to say but thought it was better not to sound like she was meddling with her friends’ relationship. Instead, she said, “Why don’t you try? He seems to want you to, but he’s worried that you’re still mad at him.”
“Did he tell you that?” Cook finally turned to meet Carly’s eyes.
The curiosity and interest that surfaced on Cook’s expression made Carly smile. “Actually he did. He missed you Dave.”
“And I thought he’s the one who’s mad at me,” Cook dejectedly said, his gaze drifting to where David still stood with the others.
“You know,” Carly placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently. “These presumptions aren’t gonna get you two anywhere. It’s been almost a year since you two parted Dave. And need I remind you that it was likewise presumption that pulled you two apart? Talk to him. Maybe it’s time to get the past behind you. It’s not like you’re getting back together,” Carly studied Cook’s expression, hoping she would successfully wheedle him to come to terms with his feelings for David.
Dinner soon came and it was more relatively relaxed than their chaotic lunch that day. Michael was at his best behavior, but even so, the rest of the group couldn’t help but be cautious. They all checked their seats before plopping down on it, and inspected their utensils before using any of it, and if they needed to add any condiments to their meal, they made sure it came straight from Brooke’s cabinets and shelves.
They engaged in a ‘Truth or Dare’ game after dinner, which started out innocently, trying to get back to the comfort they once had when they were still tight as a group. Years of lesser communication had somewhat made them strangers to each other once more.
But when the dares became more dangerous (with Syesha asking Jason to take a dip down the lake with only his boxers on, which was quite risky considering it was dark and the water was cold) and the truths involved questions that provoked exchange of harsh words (with Kristy asking Carly if it was true that she and Todd slept in separate bedrooms and were only staying together to avoid confirming the rumors about Carly’s affair. Carly bit back by telling Kristy that she had no right to accuse as she herself was being divorced by her husband for being a player).
When heated argument arose, most of them decided to retire for the night, leaving Carly, Michael, David, Brooke, Dave and Cook at the living room.
“Are you okay?” Brooke asked as she joined Carly on the carpeted floor. “I don’t know what has gotten into Kristy. She’s been annoying almost everyone today.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Carly muttered.
“I think it started when Syesha asked her why Andy left,” Dave supplied. “I’m sure Syesha didn’t mean it to sound anything more than being curious, but Kristy seemed to have taken it the wrong way. And I’ve been hearing her getting on almost everyone’s nerves since, well except with me, Brooke, and Archie.”
“She still shouldn’t have verged on being rude,” Cook commented. He had likewise fallen victim to Kristy’s over inquisitiveness, prying on the most personal issues about him and David. He wouldn’t have minded if only he hadn’t notice David’s apprehension towards the situation.
“Couldn’t agree more, mate,” Michael spoke this time, with a trace of bitterness in his tone. “I think Dave’s right, she got to almost everyone. Archie may have not reacted, but most of the things she said to Dave… I mean Cook here, regardless if it was unintentional, still involved Archie. Right, mate?” he added turning to David to confirm whether his speculation was correct.
David timidly nodded and he kept his gaze on his hands.
“Well, I’m not sure about the rest of you, but I’m going to call it a night,” Dave said, yawning. He got up from the couch where he’d been sitting beside Cook and turned to his wife, asking, “You coming, honey?”
Brooke looked at Carly hesitantly, but when the Irish woman assured Brooke she was fine, Brooke took her husband’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled up as she bid everyone ‘good night’.
“I’m going to bed too,” David said almost in a whisper.
“Alright sweetie, I’ll see you in the morning,” Carly gave David a hug and while she had him in her arms, she gave Cook a ‘go-with-him-upstairs-and-talk-to-him-damn-it’ look.
Cook, oblivious to what Carly was gesturing, scrunched up his face and mouthed, “What?”
Carly could only roll her eyes in frustration.
As soon as David left, Carly threw a couch pillow at Cook, hitting the man right on his face.
“What the fuck, Carly!” Cook sputtered, grasping tightly on the pillow thrown at him and fighting the urge to throw it back at the Irish woman.
“I swear, Dave. Your brain must’ve shrunk over the years or something,” Carly hissed as she got up from the floor and sat on the center table, facing Cook and Michael. “What are you still doing here? Why don’t you follow him upstairs?”
“Yeah, mate. Why don’tcha,” Michael echoed and nudged Cook on his arm.
“Are you two insane? He could throw me back down the stairs, you know? Just look at how buffed he is and how broad his shoulders had become,” Cook looked at his friends incredulously. “And besides, we’re not even sharing the same room, so I don’t see the point.”
Carly got up and started walking slowly towards the doorway, pensively voicing, “Oh well, if you’re no longer interested in him, then that’s good. My friend Chase had always wanted to meet him since he found out David’s already single.”
“I didn’t say I’m not interested,” Cook quickly responded. “Uh… I mean–“
“You’re busted mate. Don’t even think of taking that back,” Michael was sniggering with Carly.
Cook’s face turned crimson as he blurted, “You know I think you two are just diverting the subject.” He turned to Michael and his tone changed, his voice softer but rather unyielding, “You’re lucky Stacy was no longer here when Kristy started bitching Carly around.”
Michael gazed at Carly and their eyes met for a moment before they both turned to Cook and Michael uttered, “That’s all history man. We’ve put the past behind us.”
Carly walked back to the couch and squeezed herself on Cook’s other side, placing him between her and Michael. She wrapped an arm around Cook’s shoulders as she scooted closer. “But you my friend, shouldn’t put David behind you. He isn’t part of your past yet, and you know that.”
“She’s right mate,” Michael lightly punched on Cook’s arm. “It’s obvious you two still deeply care for each other. So stop with the pretense shit and go get your man back.”
=== &&&&& ===
It was way past midnight when the three friends finally turned in. Stacy was reading a book when Michael entered their room. She looked up from the paperback and sighed, “I was about to send out a search party after you.”
Michael gave out a light chuckle and said, “Sorry sweetheart. Dave and I had a heart to heart talk about David.”
Stacy laid the book on her lap as she sat up. “I swear, if those two don’t stop pretending they no longer care for each other, I’m going to burst.”
“You and me and the rest of the gang babe,” Michael said as he toed off his shoes and shrugged his pants off. “Where did you put my jammies?”
“Second to the top drawer,” Stacy gestured over the chest of drawers near the door.
Michael went through the neatly folded boxers and pajamas. “I swear I packed the navy blue and white striped ones…. Aha!” Michael exclaimed when he found what he was looking for at the bottom most part and as he pulled the pair of sleepwear, the corner of the thin plastic lining at the base of the drawer lifted, revealing what looked like cut-outs from old newspapers.
Curiosity overpowered him, so Michael took the sheets from underneath, muttering, “Now what do we have here?”
“What is it?” Stacy asked. She closed the book she’d been reading and placed it on the bedside table as she got up and walked towards Michael.
“Some kind of article about Paint Lake Island,” Michael laid the sheets on the vanity table. “These papers look old. It seems to talk about the history of the island.” Michael read on, with Stacy standing beside him. “Did Brooke say anything about how her grandfather came to own the island?”
“Grand uncle,” Stacy corrected. “Well she mentioned that her grand uncle gambled a lot. And I believe she said something about winning it from an heir of the island.”
“Did she say who the heir was?” Michael’s tone had turned serious.
“I don’t think she did. Why? What is it?”
“These articles talk about the Guthreid family; how they came to own the island in the late eighteenth century and passed on from one generation to the next,” Michael explained. “Holy shit.”
Stacy leaned further into her husband; eyes intently fixed on the sheet of old paper in his hands. “The family got involved in slave trade back in the early eighteen hundreds? Oh God, that doesn’t sound good.”
“That’s not all. This island served as their so-called business headquarters. They kept slaves here and tortured them while under their care. That sounds ironic doesn’t it? Using the words ‘torture’ and ‘care’ in one sentence,” Michael furrowed his brows and glanced at his wife who was still focused on the article.
“Look here hun,” Stacy said, pointing at the column in the middle of the paper. “It says here that Grant Guthreid not only kept work slaves but sex slaves as well. And if slaves weren’t ‘sold’, they were… eradicated? Well that’s a subtle way of saying they killed those poor people.”
Michael picked up another article and both he and Stacy continued to read and discuss about the history of the island, the brutal treatment given to slaves that were kept there and how a mutiny brought the Guthreid family down.
“So in the late nineteenth century, it says here in eighteen eighty-three, a man named Richard Kreighdon, son of Elizabeth Guthreid – Kreighdon, reclaimed the island as the rightful heir,” Michael read aloud.
The loud gasp of his wife, followed by the tight grip on his arm, made Michael jump and he glanced at Stacy immediately. And after seeing his wife’s bewildered face, with one hand over her mouth, Michael turned his head briskly to the direction where Stacy’s eyes were fixed.
Michael found himself staring at a painting of a man wearing a golden helmet, who looked grumpy with his slightly creased forehead. Confused, he turned back to Stacy and asked, “What’s wrong?”
With her mouth hanging open, Stacy struggled to form words, “Th-there w-was a… uh-I th-thought, well I thought I saw a pair of eyes on that painting.”
Michael stared at her as if she had lost her face.
Stacy hit Michael on his arm, making him start, and she repeated what she had said in a more articulate manner, “I said I saw a pair eyes, and I meant moving eyes, like real eyes on that painting, not the ones that are there now.”
“Are you sure?” Michael asked skeptically, but he walked towards the wall where the painting hung nonetheless.
“I know what I saw. And no, I wasn’t imagining it,” Stacy said with gritted teeth.
Michael lifted the painting off of its hook and when he pulled it off the wall, he and Stacy both gasped when they saw a vent opening behind it, large enough for a small person to fit in. They exchanged glances, both wearing a horrified expression.
When Michael was returning the framed painted portrait on the wall, he, again, almost jumped out of his skin when he heard someone scream. It was a part manly and part girly scream, so he immediately presumed it was one of the guys.
He and Stacy rushed out into the hallway, where they met Cook, who looked equally perplexed.
“Was it you who screamed?” Michael quickly asked his friend, who shook his head in response.
“It could be Archie,” Cook said, his fist already raised to knock on the younger man’s door. The three rooms they occupied were the only ones on the east wing of the manor; thus, they could only presume it was David who made the bloodcurdling sound since it obviously wasn’t Cook or Michael or Stacy.
David looked white as a sheet, like his face had been completely drained of blood when he opened the door. He wrapped his arms around Cook and his head fell limply against Cook’s shoulder.
Michael and Stacy looked at each other and couldn’t help but smile at the scenario that was unfolding before them.
Cook started making shushing sounds as he held the younger man against him and Michael noticed that David was trembling.
“What happened, Archie?” Michael asked, reaching out a hand to rub against the younger man’s back.
It was then David realized what he was doing and he suddenly pulled out of Cook’s embrace. He turned to point at the window of the room he was occupying and stuttered, “Ah-I s-saw something, s-someone standing uh-outside the w-window.”
Michael walked into the room and peered out the window. When he turned back to David, he said, “Well, there’s nothing out there now. But how could someone be standing outside your window David? We’re on the second level, and there’s no balcony or ledge outside.”
“I swear I did see it. There was someone out there,” David said defensively.
“What did it look like?” Cook said, rubbing circles on David’s back to calm him down.
David shook his head, as if trying to recall something. “I didn’t get a good look. B-but it w-was all black. L-like a shadow, only it… it was bright enough in the room to c-cast a light on it,” David said, trying to breathe in between. “I thought uh-I was imagining things. But then… but then it turned, and… well, I saw its uh-eyes, and it w-was red. And… and I got so scared.” He was almost tearful that he bit on his lower lip, trying to stop it from quivering.
“I think you shouldn’t stay here tonight,” Michael said with a concerned look in his eyes. “Everyone else seemed to be asleep, and you can’t stay with me and Stacy, I know you’ll feel awkward,” he paused as he carefully studied David’s reaction, but the younger man seemed too shaken to react to anything else so Michael continued, “I know. You can stay with Dave.”
It was Cook who looked at him with wide eyes that seemed to say ‘are you out of your mind MJ?’ But Cook quickly softened when David looked up at him with fear still evident on his face.
“C-can I?” David asked, his voice shaky.
“Of course,” Cook surrendered. “Go grab anything you’ll need in the morning.”
Michael grinned mischievously and patted Cook on the shoulder as he bid both men ‘good-night’.
=== &&&&& ===
“You can stay here on the bed, you know,” David said as he watched Cook toss and turn on the floor. “It’s not like I’m gonna jump you or anything.”
“I’m fine David. Go to sleep,” was Cook’s impassive response.
“Gosh Cook. Do I need to drag you back in here?” David sat up on the bed and was beginning to feel irritated over Cook’s stubbornness.
Cook finally got up from the floor, muttering, “Fine.” He settled beside David but moved as far away as he could and lay stiffly on his side with his back turned to the younger man, bidding David a whispered good night.
“Thanks for letting me stay here,” David said after several minutes of silence. He figured Cook wasn’t asleep yet because his breathing wasn’t even.
“That’s no problem. How are you feeling?” Cook said, almost in a whisper.
“Better.”
Then they both drifted back to an uncomfortable silence. Cook was back to tossing and turning and he only stilled when David placed a hand gently on his arm.
“Cook?”
“I missed you,” the words just slipped out of Cook’s mouth before he could stop it. And he mentally kicked himself for being so blunt.
David raised his head and propped himself on his elbow and gazed at Cook who was staring at the ceiling.
“You did?” David licked his lips and if there had been a bit more light than the night lamp on top of the chest of drawers, the blush spreading on his cheeks would have been more apparent as he muttered, “Imissedyoutoo.”
“Hmm?” Cook turned his head towards David.
“Why didn’t you call me at least?” David lay back down on his side, facing Cook.
“I thought you moved on. Someone told me you moved in with Kevin,” Cook said as he shifted to a more comfortable position that made it easier for him to gaze at David. “I know it was stupid of me to believe that without trying to find out if it was true. Months had passed when I found out it wasn’t.”
“I told you he was just a friend,” David’s voice sounded distant.
“You admitted you fell for him. And there were pictures to prove you dated, while we were together.”
“We didn’t date Cook. We went out as friends. There’s a big difference, you know.”
“I know. You can’t blame me for being jealous though. Why did you leave anyway?”
“You stopped talking to me. I tried so hard to get you to notice me, but then you started going away more often,” David traced the barely visible patterns on the sheets with his finger, his eyes following its movement. “Then… then I saw that picture of you with Carrie. And I just thought you didn’t want me anymore. So I left, thinking that if I was wrong, you’d come after me. But you didn’t.”
Cook placed his hand over David’s to stop it from gliding across the mattress, giving it a squeeze, “I tried to call you. A lot of times. But I couldn’t make myself press the dial button on my phone. And then time passed and I thought you hated me by then, so I gave up.”
“I guess we were stupid.”
“Yeah… yeah, we were.” Cook laughed lightly.
“Is it… is it too late to fix everything?”
“I hope not. Do you… do you want to, Archie?”
David bit his lower lip and nodded. “D-do you?” he asked nervously, worried that Cook might disagree.
Cook grazed David’s cheek with the back of his fingers before leaning in to kiss him tenderly. When David tilted his head slightly, Cook pressed his lips further into David’s, making him whimper as he ran his tongue along the younger man’s partly open lips.
David’s tongue met Cook’s, urging it to enter and Cook complied, thrusting his tongue into his ex-boyfriend’s mouth, probing with interest and curiosity as his lips got re-acquainted with David’s.
When they pulled away, slightly panting from the lack of air, Cook looked into David’s eyes despite the fact the room was dimly lit and asked, “Does this mean we’re starting over?”
The corners of David’s mouth curved upwards and with a slightly hoarse voice, he replied, “I hope so.”
Their mouths fused back together and Cook’s hands started exploring David’s body, caressing the younger man’s back and rubbing his thighs as Cook moved on top of him.
With a sudden thought lurking through his now elated mind, Cook pulled back and grinned, “You didn’t just pretend to have seen something in your room so you could sleep in mine, did you?”
David’s mouth formed an ‘O’ as he looked at Cook disbelievingly. Then he smacked Cook’s arm and said, “Oh my gosh. I wouldn’t do such a thing. I did see something and I was beginning to forget about it and you just had to remind me, thanks a lot.”
Cook laughed melodically, “I’m sorry baby, I was just teasing. Now where was I?” He leaned in to brush his lips against David’s but David turned his face away.
“I’m not in the mood anymore. You just reminded me of that thing I saw and now I have the horrible image back in my head. Gosh,” David uttered.
“Oh yeah? What if I do this?” Cook rubbed his palm over David’s crotch and the younger man’s hips jerked upwards.
“Coo—“ David’s words were cut off when Cook seized his lips, kissing him hungrily and fiercely. And Cook continued to stroke David’s hardening cock.
Cook was about to slip his hand inside David’s pajama pants when they heard a yell from the next room. They paused, listening to the sounds that followed. They heard a door open and Michael and Stacy’s voices floated in the air.
Curious, Cook got up and made his way to the door with David behind him. They stepped out into the hallway just in time to see Michael going around the corner, with Stacy standing right outside their room watching him.
“What happened?” Cook asked as he approached Stacy, who turned to him with a shrug.
“Mike was just about to take a shower, then I heard him yell and he came out mumbling about cold water,” Stacy sounded confused so Cook did not ask for more information. Instead, he followed the path Michael had taken and saw him talking to Brooke and Dave outside the couple’s bedroom, holding a towel that was wrapped carelessly around his hips.
They seemed to be halfway through the conversation so Cook only heard snippets of it and pieced it together. Michael seemed to be complaining that there was no hot water and Dave explained that the water heater at the basement was almost out of gas when he checked before retiring for the night.
“I thought it would be enough for the rest of us so I didn’t bother refueling it,” Dave said in an apologetic tone.
When Brooke asked Dave to refill it, Dave explained that there were no spare tanks left and the supplies were in the shack at the other side of the compound.
“Then go grab one,” Brooke’s voice was commanding.
“But honey, it’s too dark out there,” Dave complained. Yet he turned down Cook’s offer to help him and conceded to his wife’s request with a scowl on his face.
=== &&&&& ===
There was indeed little light to illuminate the pathway leading to the storage shack, so Dave had decided to compensate with a huge halogen flashlight. He grumbled to himself as he recalled the way Brooke ordered him to grab a gas tank, saying that he should’ve done it earlier that day.
But Dave had been too busy helping Brooke prepare the house and entertain their guests to remember the little things that his wife rarely involved herself with. So Dave simply forgot. Now he was paying the consequences.
He turned southeast, still following the path that he knew led to the shed that held the supplies needed to keep most of the things in the manor working.
When the shed came into view, Dave heard shuffling of feet on the ground somewhere behind him. He turned around and almost fell backwards when a black cat jumped from a tree, hissing at him accusingly.
“Well excuse me,” Dave said. “You’re the one who’s trespassing on our property little fellow, so I should be the one in a foul mood, right?”
The cat looked at him and stopped hissing; instead, the animal meowed and turned away.
“Great,” Dave mumbled. “I just talked to a cat.”
Dave turned on his heel and headed towards the shed. The door creaked as he opened it and he directed the flashlight’s beam on the ceiling until he found the tiny bulb that was the sole source of light in the small room. He pulled on the switch until yellow light flooded the area.
He was going through several gas tanks when he felt movement behind him. But before Dave could turn to check if there was someone else around, he felt a cold, clammy hand against his mouth and the sudden cut of air made him feel queasy. Dave felt he was losing consciousness. The last thing he remembered, and perhaps the last thing he’d ever see, was a dark figure crouching over his fallen form. Then darkness swept over him.
He needed peace. He needed serenity.
And spending days with nine other people (or eleven according to Brooke if he included her husband Dave and Michael’s wife Stacy) was going to be the absolute opposite of his ideal relaxing break.
David Archuleta had just concluded his tour in Asia and Australia. And before that, he’d traveled across Central America promoting his second official album. He knew he had to work harder to keep his career on track and to surpass the criticisms that he encountered when he finally came out to the public. Ironically, he hadn’t plan on coming out too soon. But his controversial break-up with David Cook spurred the media to dig into their past.
Despite the fact that he had a blast during his three-month tour, he needed a break before his tour in the U.S. started on late spring. He was grateful that his manager had agreed to give him a month vacation.
But somehow he felt like it was a conspiracy because as soon as he found out about his granted leave, Brooke sent him an email inviting him to spend the weekend at the house in a private island that she recently inherited from her late grand uncle (a cousin of her grandfather). He should’ve known that ignoring the email would not work because on the same day, Brooke called him at least five times until he could not find any other means of escape and had to say ‘yes’.
Before David knew it, he had been booked to a flight to Michigan and Brooke had sent him instructions on how to get to Paint Lake Island through his email. He had not been able to ask Brooke to elaborate further on who would specifically be joining them on that weekend get-away, but she vaguely mentioned that she had invited the rest of the top ten during their season at Idol. Which meant David Cook could possibly be there. Great.
“I don’t see why you’re so worried about Cook being there,” Kristy had said when David called her to ask if she would be going. “It’s been almost a year since you guys broke up, haven’t you gotten over that yet?”
“I have,” David had said defensively, “but I haven’t seen him since. I might prove myself wrong if I see him again.”
“You can’t avoid him forever,” Kristy had sighed audibly over the phone, “or have you not heard that American Idol had been planning to invite you both during the finale this year?”
Jason had said the same thing when he called David later that day. “Will you please, for once, not think that it’s all about Cook. Brooke arranged this weekend get-away so we could have our long-planned reunion, which, may I point out, has been cancelled at least four times in the last two years already.”
“What chance is there that he won’t be there?” David had been psyching himself up that there still remained a small probability that Cook would not go. “I mean, he could be on tour, or… or he could be busy with recording and stuff.”
“Dude. Don’t pretend that you don’t keep tabs on the man.”
“I don’t!”
“Yeah. Right. I believe you,” Jason had said tediously and David could just imagine him rolling his eyes. “Look Archuleta. If you don’t get your butt on that plane to Michigan, I’m gonna go down there and whip your ass out of your cozy little thinking chair in your cozy little apartment.”
“I don’t have a thinking chair.”
“It’s the chair you sit on every time you think too much.”
So to make the story short, David had relented to his friends’ coaxing. He took the early flight from Los Angeles that Brooke had booked for him after he confirmed at the last minute, to give him ample time to catch the ferry that would bring him and the others to the island.
The cab turned into a curved narrow road that ran along the riverside. David stared out the window, memories of the past four years since he was in the competition lingering stubbornly on his mind. He thought about Cook, about their three-year relationship that somehow ended unpleasantly.
Just as he was about to dig deeper into his memory bank, the cab pulled up at the end of what seemed to be a wooden bridge or more like a dock, really, since it does not connect anywhere. At the far end of it, he saw some of his fellow former idols. After paying the cab driver, he lifted his backpack and got off, then opened the rear door to grab his large duffle bag from the back seat. He took a deep breath before walking up the wooden structure and saw Carly coming up to meet him with her arms outstretched. He caught a glimpse of Cook over Carly’s shoulder as she threw her arms around David. His ex-boyfriend was leaning against the railing, his eyes unmistakably fixed on David.
God, he’s so beautiful, David Cook thought as he watched David Archuleta walk gracefully along the dock with Carly. David looked so confident but uncertain at the same time. Cook knew it sounded ironic, but that’s the only way he could think of to describe David at that very moment. He didn’t miss the way David’s face radiated as he smiled and nodded ‘hellos’ to everyone he came across.
“I can’t believe you let him slip through your fingers, mate,” Michael Johns said while glancing from Cook to David.
It had been almost a year since he’d last seen him, and he thought he had finally gotten over him. He actually believed he had gotten over him. He struggled for months not to act on his desire to see David, to talk to him, to hold him; that it nearly drove him insane. After what seemed like eternity though, he managed not to think about him anymore, at least not every fucking second of the day. He had convinced himself that he no longer felt anything for David Archuleta. But now, he felt like his heart was about to stop beating as David approached him and Michael with his hypnotic eyes and blinding smile and said, “Hey guys, been a long time.”
Cook fought the urge to pull David close and wrap his arms around him and kiss him senseless. He knew he had to say something but the words were lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth. So he did nothing but gape at David, Michael’s, “Hey David, glad you could make it, mate,” floated through the air like some voice from a dream that sounded too distant and vague.
David must have taken Cook’s lack of response negatively and might have thought that Cook was being elusive since the younger man’s smile immediately faded and he simply nodded and turned to Jason and Kristy, who both led him to the ferry waiting by the dock. Cook’s gaze, naturally, followed David with certain awe.
“You okay mate?” Cook turned to Michael who seemed to have been studying him closely. “You look stupefied,” Michael said, snickering.
“Hmmm?” Cook stared at Michael blankly, not entirely sure what the Australian had just said because his thoughts were elsewhere.
Michael shook his head, grinning, “You’re hopeless mate. You’re obviously still into David.” Cook opened his mouth to protest but Michael pointed a finger at him and quickly said, “and don’t you even think of denying that.”
They all boarded the ferry as soon as the last people they were expecting arrived. And the boat soon whirred to life as the engine started and pulled away from the dock. It floated slowly along Iron River, passing through some of the privately owned islands where nature was left untouched.
Cook was observing David, who sat on a bench with Carly on the opposite side of the ferry. He seemed to be enjoying the scenery as he kept pointing at a distance, his face in complete awe.
“You miss him,” a voice from behind startled him, causing him to jump a little and he turned to see Kristy grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t you?”
“Me? No,” Cook tried to deny it, even if his heart said otherwise. “I’m over him.”
“Yeah right,” Kristy sneered. “Deny all you want Dave, but your eyes betray you. He missed you too, you know.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. He told me a while ago that seeing you again made him realize how much he missed you.” There was a spark in Kristy’s eyes, something she often had whenever spontaneous thoughts ran through her mind. Then she walked away, leaving Cook in contemplation of what she had just said.
The ferry picked up speed once it reached a wider portion of the river and Cook stood by the side, leaning on the railing as he breathed in the fresh air, hoping that the smell of sweet pine and clean water would somehow help clear his mind of any lingering thoughts about David. He still loved him. About that, he was certain. He had tried to move on, had hooked up with a couple of girls and even with a guy he’d met at one of his shows. But no one could ever fill the void inside him, the empty space that David’s absence had created.
Cook knew he shouldn’t dwell on it. He was, after all, the one who initiated the break up. He was the one who closed his doors on David without giving him a chance to explain what had really happened, until the younger man could no longer bear the silent treatment, and he left. Cook could still remember that day as clearly as if it had happened only recently.
He had arrived to an empty house from one of his trip to New York after a series of TV appearances and he found the letter that David had left on the bed they shared for more than two years. The letter that broke his heart and soul to pieces. And moments after, he likewise found David’s empty drawers and noticed that his spot in their walk-in closet had been cleared. David was gone. Cook had done nothing but sulk in the lonely corners of his house for months.
Kristy was right. He missed David. He had been stupid enough to believe a rumor and he was even more stupid not to give David the benefit of the doubt. He should have given David a chance to explain when he tried to, but instead, Cook had refused to listen and closed his doors on the younger man. He sighed knowing it was too late for regrets and ‘should-haves’. David has probably moved on by now, Cook thought.
“Cook?” Cook silently grumbled when his musings were interrupted and he turned around to see who had called out to him. David stood a few feet behind him, looking rather nervous or hesitant, Cook couldn’t really tell. But the younger man easily broke into a smile when Cook offered him a lop-sided one and he cleared his throat, then said, “Uhm…sorry, but we’re almost at the island. I just thought you should know so you could uhm… you know, gather your stuffs.”
Cook nodded once. “Thanks.”
“Oh, you’re welcome,” David’s eyes seemed to have brightened; the smile remained on his face even when he made his way to the corner where they all left their belongings.
It wasn’t until the engine made a roaring sound and the ferry slowed its pace that Cook noticed they were approaching the wooden dock that extended from an island few meters ahead. He heard someone, Chikezie he presumed, ask the ferryman, “Will you be back for us on Sunday sir?” as Cook was gathering his guitar case, large duffle bag and red backpack after everyone else had claimed their things.
“Monday. I only come out here on Fridays and Mondays during off-peak season,” was the ferryman’s reply.
David Cook was among the last to step onto the dock, along with Michael, Stacy and Carly. They all thanked Frank, the ferryman, after he had called out to them saying, “I’ll be back for you fellows on Monday around the same hour, okay?” Then his young assistant, Ted, untied the ropes from the dock that held the boat in place and they heard the screeching sound of the anchor being pulled up.
Brooke and her husband, Dave, and an older couple were all waiting at the end of the dock with an SUV, a car, and a Cherokee jeep parked behind them. As soon as Cook reached the welcoming committee, Brooke threw her arms around him, as she had with the others. She gave him a little squeeze as she said, “I’m so glad you could make it Dave.” Then Cook shook hands with her husband and when he turned to the older couple, Brooke affectionately introduced them as her ‘Aunt Trudy and Uncle Roger’. “Aunt Trudy is my mom’s second cousin. So they’re relatives,” Brooke had added while leading Cook to the Cherokee jeep where Michael and Stacy stood by waiting.
Cook looked around to see where David had gone and he saw the younger man inside the SUV with Jason, Kristy and Carly. He barely had a glimpse of Dave getting in the driver’s side of the vehicle when he suddenly felt something slightly wet hit his face. He grabbed onto the material and realized it was a hand towel that, he guessed, Michael had hurled at him.
As they traveled along the rough and bumpy road leading up to the house Brooke had inherited, Aunt Trudy and Uncle Roger, who both sat at the front seat, entertained them with stories about the island, but Cook wasn’t really paying attention. He somehow developed the habit of stretching his neck to glance at the road ahead constantly asking how much further they were from their destination when in reality, he was glancing at the SUV that was right in front of them.
Once they arrived at the house, or more like the manor, Brooke made them settle in their rooms immediately. It had only eight rooms and one was occupied by Brooke and Dave, so some had to share. Michael and Stacy, of course, had a room of their own. Jason had agreed to share with Chikezie and Ramiele and Syesha wanted to spend most time catching up since they haven’t spoken in months, so the two girls had volunteered to share a room as well.
Aunt Trudy and Uncle Roger, who were occupying a space at the attic, had informed them that they would be leaving that afternoon so either Jason or Chikezie could move to the attic once they’ve left.
Cook was secretly hoping that he would get a room near David’s at least, because he knew sharing a room with his ex-boyfriend was out of the question, so when Brooke directed him to one that was right across the room where David had entered, he couldn’t help but hug their hostess rather tightly in appreciation.
Brooke took a step back after Cook had released her. Her face lit up as she smiled. “I take it, you’re happy with the lodging arrangements?”
Cook laughed heartily. The melodic sound rumbled against his throat and echoed across the hallway.
Brooke left her guests at the second and third levels of the house and made her way down to the kitchen to start preparing lunch. She overheard some of her friends discussing plans to take a stroll around the vicinity after they unpacked.
Preparing meals for twelve people wasn’t much of a task since her caretaker, Mrs. Shelby, had been kind enough to help her out. So lunch was served in peace, except of course, for Michael’s incessant barrage of practical jokes.
There was the fart cushion that he had apparently slipped under Jason’s seat pad when he got up to help Mrs. Shelby bring the bowl of soup to the dining table. It made a disgusting noise when Jason slumped lazily back on his chair and everyone got a good laugh out of it at Jason’s stunned and horrified expression, “That wasn’t me!”
And as they started eating, more trick items that Michael had brought surfaced and Syesha had to discover in a messy way that she had fallen victim to Michael’s practical joke when the mashed potato she scooped with apparently a bending spoon didn’t make it to her mouth but instead plopped down her chest and slid all the way to her lap. This time, only Michael laughed while half the table got up to help Syesha clean up.
Brooke had to bite her tongue to control her temper as more trick items were revealed until the foaming sugar cubes Mike tricked Carly into putting in her tea ended up overflowing with white foamy substance that made a total mess on the dinner table. That was the tip of the ice and it had sent Brooke up the wall. She glared at Michael and firmly said, “Clean this up, now.”
No one knew that Michael could move as fast as he did as he tidied up everything in the dining area and even volunteered to help clean the kitchen. Stacy apologized endlessly for her husband’s immaturity.
By mid-afternoon, Michael had retrieved the stink bombs he had planted on the living room and the den and the balcony at Brooke’s bidding. The rest of their gang had gone out to hike around the premises, leaving Michael under the watchful eyes of Brooke.
Once assured that everything had been returned to normal, Brooke relieved Michael from his penalty and the Australian hurriedly made his way outside yelling, “Thanks Brooke! Sorry again for the trouble. See you later!”
Brooke shook her head as she watched the man disappear and she followed the path he took on her way out the front door but then caught sight of a lone figure in the living room. She had to take a few steps back to check if she had imagined it. She found Carly sitting on the couch browsing through the pages of a magazine.
“What are you doing here?” Brooke’s voice startled Carly and Brooke guessed that she probably snapped Carly out of her musings. “Why aren’t you out with the others?”
Carly shrugged and said, “I thought I’d rest for a bit. I tried to catch some snooze but I couldn’t. And when I came down here, everyone else was gone.”
“Wanna go for a walk with me then?” Brooke asked and Carly nodded once before getting up to follow Brooke outside. The cool breeze of spring blew gently across the leafy trees that surrounded the manor and the smell of white and red pines filled the air. The backyard was an unspoiled forest filled with huge birch trees. Shrubs grew around some trees and wildflowers of different colors bloomed on its surface. Birds twittered tunefully as they settled onto the branches of the treetops.
Brooke and Carly breathed in the fresh air, inhaling as deeply as they could. “This is a nice change from the city,” Carly said in her thick Irish accent. “Thanks for having us here Brooke. I’m sure the rest of the guys needed a change of environment like I did.”
“I couldn’t think of better people to spend the weekend here with than you guys,” was Brooke’s earnest reply. “I should be the one thanking you all for sparing some time, despite your busy schedules, and agreed to keep me company.”
“Oh honey,” Carly placed an arm around Brooke’s shoulders and pulled her closer then leaned her head against the side of Brooke’s. “I guess I can speak for the rest when I say that we feel guilty enough that we had to cancel the other weekend get-togethers you’ve planned for the past couple of years.”
“I’m just glad this one pushed through,” the smile on Brooke’s face was genuine and infectious and Carly found herself smiling back.
The sun was almost setting by the time they all got back to the manor after spending the entire afternoon exploring the island. There wasn’t much to see as the island was purposely left underdeveloped with the manor as the sole residence, but they discovered several small shacks around the island that included the boathouse down by the lake, storage sheds, a shed that housed the island’s generator and some others.
Carly saw Cook sitting at the two-seater wooden swing at the front lawn, quietly playing his guitar. She contemplated for a minute whether to join her friend or leave him in his rumination. She noticed that Cook kept glancing at the direction of the boathouse and when she followed his gaze, she saw David with Brooke and some of their friends flocked around Brooke’s aunt and uncle, who were leaving for the mainland along with Brooke’s helper Mrs. Shelby.
Following her instinct, Carly made her way to Cook, who slid further on the other side of the swing to give space for her to sit. “Hey stranger, how’s it going?” Carly greeted, her tone teasing and genial at the same time.
“Hey Carls,” Cook looked up briefly from his guitar then his gaze fell back on the metal strings, which he obviously strung half-heartedly.
“Have you talked to him yet?” Carly asked, in a more concerned than prying way. She didn’t emphasize whom she was referring to since she knew Cook would know.
Cook shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “Not really, no,” he murmured, eyes not leaving the instrument he was holding.
You should, Carly wanted to say but thought it was better not to sound like she was meddling with her friends’ relationship. Instead, she said, “Why don’t you try? He seems to want you to, but he’s worried that you’re still mad at him.”
“Did he tell you that?” Cook finally turned to meet Carly’s eyes.
The curiosity and interest that surfaced on Cook’s expression made Carly smile. “Actually he did. He missed you Dave.”
“And I thought he’s the one who’s mad at me,” Cook dejectedly said, his gaze drifting to where David still stood with the others.
“You know,” Carly placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently. “These presumptions aren’t gonna get you two anywhere. It’s been almost a year since you two parted Dave. And need I remind you that it was likewise presumption that pulled you two apart? Talk to him. Maybe it’s time to get the past behind you. It’s not like you’re getting back together,” Carly studied Cook’s expression, hoping she would successfully wheedle him to come to terms with his feelings for David.
Dinner soon came and it was more relatively relaxed than their chaotic lunch that day. Michael was at his best behavior, but even so, the rest of the group couldn’t help but be cautious. They all checked their seats before plopping down on it, and inspected their utensils before using any of it, and if they needed to add any condiments to their meal, they made sure it came straight from Brooke’s cabinets and shelves.
They engaged in a ‘Truth or Dare’ game after dinner, which started out innocently, trying to get back to the comfort they once had when they were still tight as a group. Years of lesser communication had somewhat made them strangers to each other once more.
But when the dares became more dangerous (with Syesha asking Jason to take a dip down the lake with only his boxers on, which was quite risky considering it was dark and the water was cold) and the truths involved questions that provoked exchange of harsh words (with Kristy asking Carly if it was true that she and Todd slept in separate bedrooms and were only staying together to avoid confirming the rumors about Carly’s affair. Carly bit back by telling Kristy that she had no right to accuse as she herself was being divorced by her husband for being a player).
When heated argument arose, most of them decided to retire for the night, leaving Carly, Michael, David, Brooke, Dave and Cook at the living room.
“Are you okay?” Brooke asked as she joined Carly on the carpeted floor. “I don’t know what has gotten into Kristy. She’s been annoying almost everyone today.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Carly muttered.
“I think it started when Syesha asked her why Andy left,” Dave supplied. “I’m sure Syesha didn’t mean it to sound anything more than being curious, but Kristy seemed to have taken it the wrong way. And I’ve been hearing her getting on almost everyone’s nerves since, well except with me, Brooke, and Archie.”
“She still shouldn’t have verged on being rude,” Cook commented. He had likewise fallen victim to Kristy’s over inquisitiveness, prying on the most personal issues about him and David. He wouldn’t have minded if only he hadn’t notice David’s apprehension towards the situation.
“Couldn’t agree more, mate,” Michael spoke this time, with a trace of bitterness in his tone. “I think Dave’s right, she got to almost everyone. Archie may have not reacted, but most of the things she said to Dave… I mean Cook here, regardless if it was unintentional, still involved Archie. Right, mate?” he added turning to David to confirm whether his speculation was correct.
David timidly nodded and he kept his gaze on his hands.
“Well, I’m not sure about the rest of you, but I’m going to call it a night,” Dave said, yawning. He got up from the couch where he’d been sitting beside Cook and turned to his wife, asking, “You coming, honey?”
Brooke looked at Carly hesitantly, but when the Irish woman assured Brooke she was fine, Brooke took her husband’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled up as she bid everyone ‘good night’.
“I’m going to bed too,” David said almost in a whisper.
“Alright sweetie, I’ll see you in the morning,” Carly gave David a hug and while she had him in her arms, she gave Cook a ‘go-with-him-upstairs-and-talk-to-him-damn-it’ look.
Cook, oblivious to what Carly was gesturing, scrunched up his face and mouthed, “What?”
Carly could only roll her eyes in frustration.
As soon as David left, Carly threw a couch pillow at Cook, hitting the man right on his face.
“What the fuck, Carly!” Cook sputtered, grasping tightly on the pillow thrown at him and fighting the urge to throw it back at the Irish woman.
“I swear, Dave. Your brain must’ve shrunk over the years or something,” Carly hissed as she got up from the floor and sat on the center table, facing Cook and Michael. “What are you still doing here? Why don’t you follow him upstairs?”
“Yeah, mate. Why don’tcha,” Michael echoed and nudged Cook on his arm.
“Are you two insane? He could throw me back down the stairs, you know? Just look at how buffed he is and how broad his shoulders had become,” Cook looked at his friends incredulously. “And besides, we’re not even sharing the same room, so I don’t see the point.”
Carly got up and started walking slowly towards the doorway, pensively voicing, “Oh well, if you’re no longer interested in him, then that’s good. My friend Chase had always wanted to meet him since he found out David’s already single.”
“I didn’t say I’m not interested,” Cook quickly responded. “Uh… I mean–“
“You’re busted mate. Don’t even think of taking that back,” Michael was sniggering with Carly.
Cook’s face turned crimson as he blurted, “You know I think you two are just diverting the subject.” He turned to Michael and his tone changed, his voice softer but rather unyielding, “You’re lucky Stacy was no longer here when Kristy started bitching Carly around.”
Michael gazed at Carly and their eyes met for a moment before they both turned to Cook and Michael uttered, “That’s all history man. We’ve put the past behind us.”
Carly walked back to the couch and squeezed herself on Cook’s other side, placing him between her and Michael. She wrapped an arm around Cook’s shoulders as she scooted closer. “But you my friend, shouldn’t put David behind you. He isn’t part of your past yet, and you know that.”
“She’s right mate,” Michael lightly punched on Cook’s arm. “It’s obvious you two still deeply care for each other. So stop with the pretense shit and go get your man back.”
It was way past midnight when the three friends finally turned in. Stacy was reading a book when Michael entered their room. She looked up from the paperback and sighed, “I was about to send out a search party after you.”
Michael gave out a light chuckle and said, “Sorry sweetheart. Dave and I had a heart to heart talk about David.”
Stacy laid the book on her lap as she sat up. “I swear, if those two don’t stop pretending they no longer care for each other, I’m going to burst.”
“You and me and the rest of the gang babe,” Michael said as he toed off his shoes and shrugged his pants off. “Where did you put my jammies?”
“Second to the top drawer,” Stacy gestured over the chest of drawers near the door.
Michael went through the neatly folded boxers and pajamas. “I swear I packed the navy blue and white striped ones…. Aha!” Michael exclaimed when he found what he was looking for at the bottom most part and as he pulled the pair of sleepwear, the corner of the thin plastic lining at the base of the drawer lifted, revealing what looked like cut-outs from old newspapers.
Curiosity overpowered him, so Michael took the sheets from underneath, muttering, “Now what do we have here?”
“What is it?” Stacy asked. She closed the book she’d been reading and placed it on the bedside table as she got up and walked towards Michael.
“Some kind of article about Paint Lake Island,” Michael laid the sheets on the vanity table. “These papers look old. It seems to talk about the history of the island.” Michael read on, with Stacy standing beside him. “Did Brooke say anything about how her grandfather came to own the island?”
“Grand uncle,” Stacy corrected. “Well she mentioned that her grand uncle gambled a lot. And I believe she said something about winning it from an heir of the island.”
“Did she say who the heir was?” Michael’s tone had turned serious.
“I don’t think she did. Why? What is it?”
“These articles talk about the Guthreid family; how they came to own the island in the late eighteenth century and passed on from one generation to the next,” Michael explained. “Holy shit.”
Stacy leaned further into her husband; eyes intently fixed on the sheet of old paper in his hands. “The family got involved in slave trade back in the early eighteen hundreds? Oh God, that doesn’t sound good.”
“That’s not all. This island served as their so-called business headquarters. They kept slaves here and tortured them while under their care. That sounds ironic doesn’t it? Using the words ‘torture’ and ‘care’ in one sentence,” Michael furrowed his brows and glanced at his wife who was still focused on the article.
“Look here hun,” Stacy said, pointing at the column in the middle of the paper. “It says here that Grant Guthreid not only kept work slaves but sex slaves as well. And if slaves weren’t ‘sold’, they were… eradicated? Well that’s a subtle way of saying they killed those poor people.”
Michael picked up another article and both he and Stacy continued to read and discuss about the history of the island, the brutal treatment given to slaves that were kept there and how a mutiny brought the Guthreid family down.
“So in the late nineteenth century, it says here in eighteen eighty-three, a man named Richard Kreighdon, son of Elizabeth Guthreid – Kreighdon, reclaimed the island as the rightful heir,” Michael read aloud.
The loud gasp of his wife, followed by the tight grip on his arm, made Michael jump and he glanced at Stacy immediately. And after seeing his wife’s bewildered face, with one hand over her mouth, Michael turned his head briskly to the direction where Stacy’s eyes were fixed.
Michael found himself staring at a painting of a man wearing a golden helmet, who looked grumpy with his slightly creased forehead. Confused, he turned back to Stacy and asked, “What’s wrong?”
With her mouth hanging open, Stacy struggled to form words, “Th-there w-was a… uh-I th-thought, well I thought I saw a pair of eyes on that painting.”
Michael stared at her as if she had lost her face.
Stacy hit Michael on his arm, making him start, and she repeated what she had said in a more articulate manner, “I said I saw a pair eyes, and I meant moving eyes, like real eyes on that painting, not the ones that are there now.”
“Are you sure?” Michael asked skeptically, but he walked towards the wall where the painting hung nonetheless.
“I know what I saw. And no, I wasn’t imagining it,” Stacy said with gritted teeth.
Michael lifted the painting off of its hook and when he pulled it off the wall, he and Stacy both gasped when they saw a vent opening behind it, large enough for a small person to fit in. They exchanged glances, both wearing a horrified expression.
When Michael was returning the framed painted portrait on the wall, he, again, almost jumped out of his skin when he heard someone scream. It was a part manly and part girly scream, so he immediately presumed it was one of the guys.
He and Stacy rushed out into the hallway, where they met Cook, who looked equally perplexed.
“Was it you who screamed?” Michael quickly asked his friend, who shook his head in response.
“It could be Archie,” Cook said, his fist already raised to knock on the younger man’s door. The three rooms they occupied were the only ones on the east wing of the manor; thus, they could only presume it was David who made the bloodcurdling sound since it obviously wasn’t Cook or Michael or Stacy.
David looked white as a sheet, like his face had been completely drained of blood when he opened the door. He wrapped his arms around Cook and his head fell limply against Cook’s shoulder.
Michael and Stacy looked at each other and couldn’t help but smile at the scenario that was unfolding before them.
Cook started making shushing sounds as he held the younger man against him and Michael noticed that David was trembling.
“What happened, Archie?” Michael asked, reaching out a hand to rub against the younger man’s back.
It was then David realized what he was doing and he suddenly pulled out of Cook’s embrace. He turned to point at the window of the room he was occupying and stuttered, “Ah-I s-saw something, s-someone standing uh-outside the w-window.”
Michael walked into the room and peered out the window. When he turned back to David, he said, “Well, there’s nothing out there now. But how could someone be standing outside your window David? We’re on the second level, and there’s no balcony or ledge outside.”
“I swear I did see it. There was someone out there,” David said defensively.
“What did it look like?” Cook said, rubbing circles on David’s back to calm him down.
David shook his head, as if trying to recall something. “I didn’t get a good look. B-but it w-was all black. L-like a shadow, only it… it was bright enough in the room to c-cast a light on it,” David said, trying to breathe in between. “I thought uh-I was imagining things. But then… but then it turned, and… well, I saw its uh-eyes, and it w-was red. And… and I got so scared.” He was almost tearful that he bit on his lower lip, trying to stop it from quivering.
“I think you shouldn’t stay here tonight,” Michael said with a concerned look in his eyes. “Everyone else seemed to be asleep, and you can’t stay with me and Stacy, I know you’ll feel awkward,” he paused as he carefully studied David’s reaction, but the younger man seemed too shaken to react to anything else so Michael continued, “I know. You can stay with Dave.”
It was Cook who looked at him with wide eyes that seemed to say ‘are you out of your mind MJ?’ But Cook quickly softened when David looked up at him with fear still evident on his face.
“C-can I?” David asked, his voice shaky.
“Of course,” Cook surrendered. “Go grab anything you’ll need in the morning.”
Michael grinned mischievously and patted Cook on the shoulder as he bid both men ‘good-night’.
“You can stay here on the bed, you know,” David said as he watched Cook toss and turn on the floor. “It’s not like I’m gonna jump you or anything.”
“I’m fine David. Go to sleep,” was Cook’s impassive response.
“Gosh Cook. Do I need to drag you back in here?” David sat up on the bed and was beginning to feel irritated over Cook’s stubbornness.
Cook finally got up from the floor, muttering, “Fine.” He settled beside David but moved as far away as he could and lay stiffly on his side with his back turned to the younger man, bidding David a whispered good night.
“Thanks for letting me stay here,” David said after several minutes of silence. He figured Cook wasn’t asleep yet because his breathing wasn’t even.
“That’s no problem. How are you feeling?” Cook said, almost in a whisper.
“Better.”
Then they both drifted back to an uncomfortable silence. Cook was back to tossing and turning and he only stilled when David placed a hand gently on his arm.
“Cook?”
“I missed you,” the words just slipped out of Cook’s mouth before he could stop it. And he mentally kicked himself for being so blunt.
David raised his head and propped himself on his elbow and gazed at Cook who was staring at the ceiling.
“You did?” David licked his lips and if there had been a bit more light than the night lamp on top of the chest of drawers, the blush spreading on his cheeks would have been more apparent as he muttered, “Imissedyoutoo.”
“Hmm?” Cook turned his head towards David.
“Why didn’t you call me at least?” David lay back down on his side, facing Cook.
“I thought you moved on. Someone told me you moved in with Kevin,” Cook said as he shifted to a more comfortable position that made it easier for him to gaze at David. “I know it was stupid of me to believe that without trying to find out if it was true. Months had passed when I found out it wasn’t.”
“I told you he was just a friend,” David’s voice sounded distant.
“You admitted you fell for him. And there were pictures to prove you dated, while we were together.”
“We didn’t date Cook. We went out as friends. There’s a big difference, you know.”
“I know. You can’t blame me for being jealous though. Why did you leave anyway?”
“You stopped talking to me. I tried so hard to get you to notice me, but then you started going away more often,” David traced the barely visible patterns on the sheets with his finger, his eyes following its movement. “Then… then I saw that picture of you with Carrie. And I just thought you didn’t want me anymore. So I left, thinking that if I was wrong, you’d come after me. But you didn’t.”
Cook placed his hand over David’s to stop it from gliding across the mattress, giving it a squeeze, “I tried to call you. A lot of times. But I couldn’t make myself press the dial button on my phone. And then time passed and I thought you hated me by then, so I gave up.”
“I guess we were stupid.”
“Yeah… yeah, we were.” Cook laughed lightly.
“Is it… is it too late to fix everything?”
“I hope not. Do you… do you want to, Archie?”
David bit his lower lip and nodded. “D-do you?” he asked nervously, worried that Cook might disagree.
Cook grazed David’s cheek with the back of his fingers before leaning in to kiss him tenderly. When David tilted his head slightly, Cook pressed his lips further into David’s, making him whimper as he ran his tongue along the younger man’s partly open lips.
David’s tongue met Cook’s, urging it to enter and Cook complied, thrusting his tongue into his ex-boyfriend’s mouth, probing with interest and curiosity as his lips got re-acquainted with David’s.
When they pulled away, slightly panting from the lack of air, Cook looked into David’s eyes despite the fact the room was dimly lit and asked, “Does this mean we’re starting over?”
The corners of David’s mouth curved upwards and with a slightly hoarse voice, he replied, “I hope so.”
Their mouths fused back together and Cook’s hands started exploring David’s body, caressing the younger man’s back and rubbing his thighs as Cook moved on top of him.
With a sudden thought lurking through his now elated mind, Cook pulled back and grinned, “You didn’t just pretend to have seen something in your room so you could sleep in mine, did you?”
David’s mouth formed an ‘O’ as he looked at Cook disbelievingly. Then he smacked Cook’s arm and said, “Oh my gosh. I wouldn’t do such a thing. I did see something and I was beginning to forget about it and you just had to remind me, thanks a lot.”
Cook laughed melodically, “I’m sorry baby, I was just teasing. Now where was I?” He leaned in to brush his lips against David’s but David turned his face away.
“I’m not in the mood anymore. You just reminded me of that thing I saw and now I have the horrible image back in my head. Gosh,” David uttered.
“Oh yeah? What if I do this?” Cook rubbed his palm over David’s crotch and the younger man’s hips jerked upwards.
“Coo—“ David’s words were cut off when Cook seized his lips, kissing him hungrily and fiercely. And Cook continued to stroke David’s hardening cock.
Cook was about to slip his hand inside David’s pajama pants when they heard a yell from the next room. They paused, listening to the sounds that followed. They heard a door open and Michael and Stacy’s voices floated in the air.
Curious, Cook got up and made his way to the door with David behind him. They stepped out into the hallway just in time to see Michael going around the corner, with Stacy standing right outside their room watching him.
“What happened?” Cook asked as he approached Stacy, who turned to him with a shrug.
“Mike was just about to take a shower, then I heard him yell and he came out mumbling about cold water,” Stacy sounded confused so Cook did not ask for more information. Instead, he followed the path Michael had taken and saw him talking to Brooke and Dave outside the couple’s bedroom, holding a towel that was wrapped carelessly around his hips.
They seemed to be halfway through the conversation so Cook only heard snippets of it and pieced it together. Michael seemed to be complaining that there was no hot water and Dave explained that the water heater at the basement was almost out of gas when he checked before retiring for the night.
“I thought it would be enough for the rest of us so I didn’t bother refueling it,” Dave said in an apologetic tone.
When Brooke asked Dave to refill it, Dave explained that there were no spare tanks left and the supplies were in the shack at the other side of the compound.
“Then go grab one,” Brooke’s voice was commanding.
“But honey, it’s too dark out there,” Dave complained. Yet he turned down Cook’s offer to help him and conceded to his wife’s request with a scowl on his face.
There was indeed little light to illuminate the pathway leading to the storage shack, so Dave had decided to compensate with a huge halogen flashlight. He grumbled to himself as he recalled the way Brooke ordered him to grab a gas tank, saying that he should’ve done it earlier that day.
But Dave had been too busy helping Brooke prepare the house and entertain their guests to remember the little things that his wife rarely involved herself with. So Dave simply forgot. Now he was paying the consequences.
He turned southeast, still following the path that he knew led to the shed that held the supplies needed to keep most of the things in the manor working.
When the shed came into view, Dave heard shuffling of feet on the ground somewhere behind him. He turned around and almost fell backwards when a black cat jumped from a tree, hissing at him accusingly.
“Well excuse me,” Dave said. “You’re the one who’s trespassing on our property little fellow, so I should be the one in a foul mood, right?”
The cat looked at him and stopped hissing; instead, the animal meowed and turned away.
“Great,” Dave mumbled. “I just talked to a cat.”
Dave turned on his heel and headed towards the shed. The door creaked as he opened it and he directed the flashlight’s beam on the ceiling until he found the tiny bulb that was the sole source of light in the small room. He pulled on the switch until yellow light flooded the area.
He was going through several gas tanks when he felt movement behind him. But before Dave could turn to check if there was someone else around, he felt a cold, clammy hand against his mouth and the sudden cut of air made him feel queasy. Dave felt he was losing consciousness. The last thing he remembered, and perhaps the last thing he’d ever see, was a dark figure crouching over his fallen form. Then darkness swept over him.
=== continued on Day 2 ===