Accents
The sound of motorbikes roared through the streets of London as Layla and Zahra tracked the phone of Marc Spector. Zahra had never been to London, from what she could gather, and was trusting Layla to help navigate her through the streets. London roads were nothing like the ones Zahra had ridden down in Egypt.
"Marc, it's actually you," Layla gasped.
Zahra looked at 'Marc' with a titled head. She didn't get the feeling that this person really understood the name at all and the last time Zahra checked, people understood their own names. Layla took Steven on the back of her bike while Zahra tried to process the fact this man was meant to be her husband.
"What the hell is going on? Is this Steven the latest fake identity for you?" Layla demanded.
"How did you find me?"
"How do you think? I tracked your phone," Layla replied. "I thought you wanted me to do that when you turned it on."
"Right. Yeah."
"You know, you really could have given me any sign that you were alive. I thought that you were in danger, or kidnapped again. I just kept thinking, 'He's got the suit. He's fine.' Then, I thought, 'Well, what if he gets ambushed when he's not wearing it?' And 'What if he doesn't have it?'" Layla rambled."And... Stop clasping my shoulder like that."
"I don't know where to hold. Feels like riding with a Victorian duchess. Where do I hang on?"
"Do you see the spiral you put me through? It's not okay, yeah? You lied to me by the way, when you said that Zahra was dead. She's not. How could you just leave your wife like that? By the way, this would be a great time for you to say something. Anything. Just in case it's not clear."
"Sorry, sorry... Did you say wife? I'm married?"
"Look, I'm pretty sure we lost whoever was chasing you. Just drop the act."
"It's not an act. I–"
"Stop with the accent, please!"
"He can't just change his accent if he's British," Zahra commented as she pulled up next to them on her own bike. "What a stupid statement."
'Marc' nodded. "Yes! This is how I talk."
"Okay, uh," Layla prepared to pull over. "Get off the bike."
"No, no, no. Wait, wait, wait. Please!" Steven...or marc?...pleaded." Please, I will tell you everything, just get me to my flat, yeah? Just get me home."
Zahra was getting incredibly frustrated with the feeling of being dragged around the world when she was supposed to be doing her job of protecting people. Even if Nephthys wanted her to find Khonshu's avatar, she didn't need Layla's help.
Another thing Zahra couldn't stand was how messy Steven's apartment was when she stepped inside it. However, the goldfish swimming around its task was incredibly cute to the Egyptian.
Unbeknown to either Zahra or Layla, Marc Spector was staring at them through the glass reflection, warning Steven that they shouldn't be there. Marc still couldn't believe that his wife was standing in the room.
"I just want my life back," Steven mumbled.
"Yeah, I'm getting that," said Layla harshly.
"No. Sorry, I wasn't talking to you, just talking to myself. Sort of."
"Uh, this is your flat, Marc?" Layla questioned.
"Um, I'm Steven."
"Are you living here with someone else?" Layla continued, glancing at Zahra as she walked around.
"No, no, no. No, this is my mum's flat."
"Okay, so you guys are talking again?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Marceline Desbordes-Valmore?" Zahra spoke up, picking a book up.
"Yep."Steven began to reciet the poem in french as Zahra spoke.
Zahra surprised herself, she didn't remember knowing french or the poem...but now she did? This must have been part of the information stored in the back of her complicated brain.
"Oui, oui. She's my favourite poet."
"Um, no, she's Z's favourite." Layla interrupted.
"That's mental."
"So, you're learning French and hieroglyphics?" Zahra asked lightly.
"Yeah, well... That's not that impressive, really. It's not like hieroglyphs are a whole language. It's more like a..."
"Like an alphabet." Zahra interrupted.
"Yeah, and... Well, you still have to know ancient Egyptian to read it. Sure. For example, like this one here, right?"
"Funeral rites," said Layla.
"Well, someone knows their unilaterals. You. That's amazing."
Without warning, Layla began to laugh. It seemed strange to Zahra but Steven was more concerned.
"Sorry, I don't mean that in a creepy way." said Steven.
"No, I'm sorry. I'm not buying this, Marc. Use whatever accent you want. Yeah. Let's just get this over with." Layla demanded. "You told me that Zahra died when she clearly didn't. She's standing right here and you aren't even going to tell me why you lied about it?"
"I don't know—"
"Just admit it, you left Zahra alone when she didn't remember anything because you couldn't deal with it." Layla scoffed.
"I would never leave you," said Steven quickly, looking at Zahra. "This Marc, on the other hand, is a right twit."
"Yeah?" Layla scoffed.
"I don't know how to explain what's been happening."
"Steven."
"I don't expect you to believe me."
"Steven, listen to me."
"I honestly don't really believe myself. All I can do is try to..."
"You're making a mistake."
."..try to show you what I found."
"Steven..."
"I found this bag in the storage locker."
"Steven, don't... Listen to me."
"Inside of it is all sorts..."
"Stop what you're doing right now. Don't show them what's in the bag."
"...things...Most interestingly..."
"You're gonna get them killed. You hear me?"
"Most interestingly is what?" Zahra questioned.
"You show them that scarab, you're responsible when they come after them."
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" Zahra raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing. Never mind." Steven insisted.
"What's in there?" Layla demanded as she went to grab the bag.
Steven tried to stop her but Zahra couldn't help but push him away slightly so Layla could grab the bag.
"The scarab pointing to Ammit's ushabti? What we fought side by side for." Layla looked disgusted. "No... This whole one-man show is just what? So that you can keep it for yourself? No. I swear... After all we've been... Just stop! I'm supposed to believe anything you say with this shoved in what, a gym bag?"
"Take it." Steven insisted. "Take it, you can have it. Take it. I don't want it. I don't want it. I swear. Have it. I am not Marc Spector. I'm Steven Grant. I work in a gift shop. Well, I used to work in a gift shop. And I think I'm in real danger, and I think maybe that you might be the only person that can help me. Please."
"You really don't remember why we've been looking for this? Our adventures. You don't remember your life with Zahra?"
"Oh, God, I wish I could."
Layla wondered whether something had happened while Marc and Zahra were together that caused both of them to suffer from memory loss. Then, an aggressive knocking came from the door, causing Zahra and Layla to stare at each other.
"Steven Grant, can we have a word?" The voice said on the another.
"See? Oh, God, they've come for me."
"Why?" Zahra questioned.
"I vandalized the toilet."
The knocking continued.
"Yeah, just a minute."Steven insisted.
"That's our cue to go," Layla whispered.