Chapter 4
Marc stared at the wrinkled sheet for several minutes. He kept tossing the message over and over again in his mind, as if it somehow had a hidden meaning he’d be able to decipher simply by staring at it.
“Well, that’s not very nice.”
The comment snapped any concentration Marc had in an instant. His eyes snapped up to the face in the mirror. “Huh?”
“The note, a little rude if you ask me. Especially when you compare it to how friendly I had been.” Steven shrugged.
He rolled his eyes, “I mean, if I had to wake up just to puke because of something someone else had done, I would be in a bad mood too. Come to think of it, I can’t think of a single time I’ve woken up to vomit within the past month-”
“Oh great.” The brit huffed. “We’re the point where we have personalities exclusively for bender regurgitations. Wonderful, this JI.”
Marc tossed the paper back on the table with a quiet yawn. For as earth shattering as all the realizations had been over the past couple days, he struggled to think past what his blistering migraine would allow. He dragged himself over to the coffee pot, as if caffeine could possibly help. “Was it an I, or a lowercase L?”
“I don’t know, I can’t read drunk. I mean J was capitalized, so I would think the other would be too? I dunno, you’re the one with the edgy history. Does a J name ring a bell?”
Marc scoured the surface of his brain for any immediate memories that could point in the right direction. He knew a Jackson at some point, though that was a real person. His first pet had been a dog name Jax- which, again, hardly seemed relevant. None of the J names he’d known had the same connection Steven Grant had. If he’d really wanted to, he could easily sit down and spend the whole afternoon uncovering childhood trauma in hopes of finding an explanation, but quite honestly, he would rather do anything else. He leaned forward on the counter. “I, L, whatever the name is, the point is he’s finally making himself known. The main question is, why the hell isn’t he actually talking? Ya know, like this?”
Steven hummed. “Well, I have no idea. We don’t have work today though, right? Perhaps we can swing by the pub and ask Maria what she saw us doing while you were ‘supposedly working’?”
“That’s a good idea.” Marc agreed, to which he could hear a prideful hum in response. The cocky bastard.
~★✡★~
The bar didn’t open till 3, so the next few hours would be spent mostly lounging around the flat. He had no doubt if Steven had been in control, the brit would have jogged through half of London Streets in the time he spent restless on the couch. It was his time, however, and though his gut told him to be productive, he simply couldn’t think of anything to do. Not when their only lead wasn’t open yet, and he didn’t have an ancient Egyptian god there to direct his every move.
When 3 o’clock came Marc was the first person through the door, much to the dismay of his far more empathetic alter.
“Right at opening? That’s kind of scummy.”
“What, we aren’t in the way of other customers.”
“I mean, still-”
Marc pushed his way through the front door without hesitation. It was almost amusing watching all the various emotions run over his co-worker’s face. Annoyance at a guest already, relief when it was only him, anxiety upon remembering what had happened the night prior- her body stiffened. “Oh, hi there, Steve…?”
“Marc.” He said curtly. “I just wanted to ask about what happened yesterday, and the day before.”
“So, it wasn’t you, huh?” The lady hummed. “I had a feeling when you came in Monday, but you kept responding to Marc, and you weren’t British, so I just assumed.”
“Yeah, no. We’re still trying to piece together what exactly happened. So if you could fill us in…”
“I can pull up the security cams.” Maria replied before he could finish his thought. In the back of his mind, it was easy to wonder whether the offer was made because she genuinely wanted to be helpful, or if she simply wanted to end the conversation as soon as possible. Either way, it benefited him, so he agreed. She stood up and lead him back into manager’s office, to which he raised an eyebrow. “Jessie lets you back here?”
“Nah, I just like to sneak in sometimes to take a break whenever the rush gets bad.” The bartender smirked, slipping down into the owner’s chair. For a moment he could see his reflection fidgeting in one of the powered off monitors, before the screen soon flickered to life. “Okay, let’s find Monday.”
Several different files were selected, before they finally managed to land on the one from the couple days prior. Almost immediately, every alarm was ringing.
On weekdays, shifts tended to start around eight, or sooner depending on the person making the schedule. According to the time stamp in the corner, Jl didn’t walk in until an hour later. From the moment he stepped in, it was surreal to watch. Despite coming in over an hour late, the alter swaggered in with the posture of a man ready to get things done. One of the people working stopped fairly early on to talk to him, either about the tardiness or the break in dress code by wearing a flat cap, but either way the man continued on like nothing had happened. Like his other, more experienced co-workers, had no authority over how he went about “his” job. What happened next would mostly consisted of a sped through version of a normal night’s work. Drinks, mingling with the guests, occasional shots of his own from behind the bar, it was as if he’d been working there for years.
“He was quite the hit with the guests.” Maria said at last. “I wouldn’t say he was cheery, by any means, but the ladies seemed to fancy him.”
Of course they did, it wasn’t hard to see why. Everything from the speed at which he got the orders out, to the way he leaned over and whispered to the women across the bar, seemed to be in opposition with everything else about him. About them. From under the table his swollen hand balled up into a tight fist. “And what about the guy with the nose?”
“Ah, that was near the end of the shift.” She dragged her curser on through the next few hours, only to suddenly come to a halt upon noticing she’d gone too far. There was a brawl on the screen, one between him and at least two other dudes. She re-winded. “So, by then everyone was pretty off their face. Most parties were wrapping it up for the night, including this group of girls right here.” She circled her mouse around a specific red head in the mix. The narration wasn’t necessary to put together just how shit faced the young girl had to be, her head was swaying back and forth as if it was a goddamn bobble head. Maria continued, “That’s when this guy walks up, and at first, I didn’t even notice. It’s hard to spot these kinds of things until it’s too late. Before I know it a whole ruckus has started though, and you come swinging over the bar…”
The rest of the explanation fell on deaf ears. All noise around him deafened, aside from the distant sound of the fan.
It was the scrawny man from earlier, albeit this time in better health. At first the transition from sitting across the room with his friends, to sitting beside her had been smooth. With one inaudible comment an arm was slipped around her slouched shoulders. It was easy to see why it wouldn’t have garnered any attention, with a move as bold as that, one could have assumed they were already dating. The longer they sat though, the more she began to shuffle. Her head drifted back over towards her friends a few feet away, just before the man made the move to stand.
It was around then that the noise level began to pick up. The woman made meek protests in his arms, and soon the rest of the group had gathered around them in an attempt to slow the man’s walk outside. They’d gotten just about halfway through the bar, when he came over.
“Hey bub, what do you think you’re doin’?”
It was the first thing actually comprehendible on the whole tape, and hearing his voice break through the incomprehensible jumbles was jarring enough for his heart to stop. Before he knew better, his consciousness was shoved aside. “That’s him! That’s the bloody bastard!”
Steven watched with wide eyes the way the alter strolled up to the group and buried himself in the mix. The whole situation brought a sense of déjà vu, and immediately his mind flashed back to the first time he met Marc, and how the security cameras showed none of the supernatural works at play. This didn’t seem to be the case here, at least at first glance. There was no running from any invisible creatures, or threats being made over an intercom. Just a standard asshat trying to hit all the bases with a girl clearly not interested. Jl, however, had been the one to throw the first punch before he could make it to the door. A single hit straight to the nose, powerful enough to leave the other man tumbling back into the tables.
“So, we technically started it.” Steven muttered.
“And finished it,” Maria pointed out, “You would have been in trouble for the whole stunt, if the girls didn’t explain the situation to the manager. They were really happy too; the guy was apparently determined to take her with him.”
The tape from the yesterday was around what he’d expected. The gang entering, shouting threats before he even knew what was happening. After the black out in his memory, there was very little left to see. More talking, some roughing up, before Jl seemed to convince the gang to meet him outside. That’s when the monitor was clipped off. “Now that that’s taken care of, I have to get back to work. Please let Jessie know if you’re going to have a new alter coming in, and please let him know we don’t condone violence. We let Monday go, but-”
“You’re heard.” Marc interrupted before she could get another word out. They’d seen enough, at least for today. He turned and made his way out the office and through the bar. He turned and waved one last time before heading out into the streets.
The walk back to the flat felt like an out of body experience. People were all around him, making their way through the day, completing menial tasks that had nothing to do with him. It was as if they inhabited an entirely different world from his own. One where there wasn’t an uncontrollable alter wreaking havoc behind his back. He tried to picture what it was like for them; what it would be like to be a part of them, but he simply couldn’t. He was far away, fighting just to keep himself in control.
“So, first thoughts, he was protecting a girl from date rape, so I believe that’s a good sign we’re not dealing with a lunatic serial killer.” Steven piped up the moment he entered their flat. “I mean, its not great his answer to the problem was breaking a nose, but hey, I give him points.”
“I want to talk to him.” Marc stated, marching up to the first mirror he found. “I want to talk to this fucker right now, and see what the hell he’s doing with our body.”
“Calm down, let’s think rationally here. He responded to a letter last time, right? Maybe he will again.” Steven suggested. Marc shook his head, no. That would take too long, and he didn’t want to risk waiting around for Jl to take the body once again, only to leave without ever responding at all. They couldn’t afford more time lost, not when he had no idea how much had already been stolen from him. With a low huff he grabbed the hand-held mirror, and brought it over to his laptop on the bed. “There’s got to be a way we can talk to him directly if he isn’t going to respond through the mirrors. Other people suffer from this same shit, right? There’s got to be a study or something that gives us answers.”
“Marc, mental illness doesn’t always have answers.” Steven said, voice dipping into that tentative realm he always dreaded. As if the alter was stepping on eggshells not to upset him. “I’ve looked into it quite extensively, and for some people talking to hidden personalities through letters and art or whatever helps, but everyone’s mind is completely different. Alters are all different, there’s no guarantee anything will work.”
“Yeah? Well, lets see about that, huh. Look here, meditation. Hm? Read that, why don’t you.”
Steven rolled his eyes, and reluctantly turned his attention down to the article in question.
“…communicating with hidden alters can often be a fickle, and long-lasting process. For me, to this day I still have personalities I rarely talk to, if at all. Each person plays their own role in my life, and sometimes, that role is something I have to actively work towards learning the purpose of. For me, meditation has really been a life saver. Though I’d been using letters for a few years now, I realized that it wasn’t leaving me where I wanted to be. Through the art of meditation, I’ve been able to clear my mind, and better connect with my various alters in ways I never thought was possible…”
The brit huffed, “Seems a little sketchy to me. I hardly see how sitting on the floor and humming to ourselves will help unlock some grand secret.”
Marc shrugged, “You know I don’t like believing hoity toity shit like that, but I mean, its gotta be worth the shot. What’s the alternative? Writing a letter and waiting for the next time he steals the body?” He backed out of the article and instead began looking up the best ways to meditate. Sitting on the floor and not doing anything sounded easy enough to him. It was difficult to imagine a world where that’d actually work, but for how broken his mind had to be to have another person in there, he supposed anything was possible.
~★✡★~
“So, do you want to be the one to do it? Or me?” Steven asked around an hour later, once a little food was in their stomach and the bed was made. Marc tossed off his shirt and kicked it to the side. “I figured I would, why?”
“I dunno,” The brit sighed in the exact way one would sigh when they knew exactly what they meant. “You have a habit of being a bit tense, maybe it’d be easier to relax and space out if it was me doing it instead of you.”
Marc raised an eyebrow. He was more tense, that part was obvious. Just leaving the house had a greater strain on his muscles than it ever did when Steven had control. That didn’t make the suggestion feel any less harsh. His chest tightened, eyes turning away from the mirror. “I think I can handle sitting and breathing just fine, thank you.”
Steven didn’t respond after that, and Marc didn’t bother asking anything else. His attention instead shifted towards finishing his little set up. Dimmed lighting, a glass of whiskey, stripped to his boxers, a single candle- None of which was necessary according to google, but he figured if he was going to truly try and get in touch with this mysterious “Jl”, then he mine as well get comfortable. When everything was said and done, he turned on his phone and pressed play on the first meditation video on YouTube.
“Welcome, to this guided meditation. During this meditation, you will achieve deep relaxation, and peace. Due to the relaxing nature of this recording, it is not safe to drive or operate machinery…”
Three seconds in, and Marc already found himself rolling his eyes into the back of his skull. Please, as if he’d actually pass out on the wheel while listening to Siri give him breathing advice. He downed his entire glass in one gulp, before settling his ass deep in his comforter.
“…When the meditation is over, you will be aware, and ready to take on the day. You will feel completely comfortable with your own body, and confident in what lies ahead…”
He closed his eyes and turned all of his attention onto the voice speaking to him. Her robotic, but soothing enough tone that managed to make sitting upright in the middle of his bed feel a little less embarrassing.
“Relax your body…place your arms in a position that is comfortable for you…”
He dropped his shoulders.
“Breath deeply…take another deep breath through your nose, and let it out slowly.”
Marc reluctantly did as he was told, and for the next several minutes he found himself wrapped around this woman’s finger in a way he couldn’t quite recall feeling before. Nothing felt earth shatteringly different, no sudden realizations or new voices in his head. There was, however, a sense of numbness. The deep stress built up in his bones seemed to drain from his body, and sink into the sheets bellow him.
“You are in a safe, and welcoming environment. One where you’re allowed to breath in…and out…”
He subtly lowered, until eventually he could feel the warm embrace of the mattress beneath his back.
“Allow relaxation to fully consume you, as you sink deeper, and deeper, into this guided meditation…”
The last thing Marc felt before everything went black, was the vague sensation of someone standing close to him. Not physically, but somehow just as intimately.
~★✡★~
“You are not alone…feel it with each and every breath you take, you are not alone…”
He was somewhere. Somewhere dark, and hazy. It was nothing like the tight sensation that came with backing while another alter took his place. No, he could move his arms here. He could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he took a step further into the darkness.
“As you step deeper into this state of complete and utter solace, be mindful of how each exhale feels. Take into consideration the warmth of your breath leaving your body…”
His chest was buzzing. Vague shapes were now beginning to take form. Two beds, one thin and bare, the other vintage and cozy. The latter being the type of bed one would picture inside a family Ikea ad.
“Take a moment to consider how grateful you are. How thankful you are for each and every rush of fresh air…”
There were other details too, coming into frame. A large bookshelf, scattered papers. A single table, red stains deep in the grain of the wood.
“Consider how every breath helps your body run the best it can…”
The stains were on the bed too, the bare one. The one that resembled the type of cot he’d have slept on back in his military days, although this was far less maintained. Dark maroon seemed to touch every square inch of the old, rusted frame. Fresh ruby trickled down the sheets, and dripped on the floor. His breathing wavered.
“You are safe here…You are supported, and loved…Feel it in your bones, as relaxation takes you in its loving arms…”
“No,” Marc’s voice quivered. He covered his eyes, as if it would somehow hide himself from the blood seeping onto his hands. “No, no, I don’t want to see this. I don’t want to see this.”
“This is apart of you…relaxation, and comfort, is part of you…breath in, and out…”
“Fuck, I want out of here. You hear me? I want out!” His voice began to shout. It was his voice, he knew that, but it was hard to tell who it was belonged to anymore. “I don’t want to see this, I DON’T WANT TO-”
~★✡★~
“Feel relaxation take you in your toes…”
Steven mumbled under his breath. Were they still meditating? Didn’t Marc want to be the one to do that?
“Feel relaxation sink in through your feet, and up your calves…”
He couldn’t feel Marc anywhere near him, which was odd for just haven woken up. There wasn’t any immediate fear though, no tension in his bones or gut feeling that said he was in any sense of danger. Perhaps the meditation had simply worked, and they’d swapped places without the other realizing it.
“Feel, as complete comfort and tranquility travels up your thighs, and grabs a hold of your hips…”
A weak smile formed on his lips. He quite liked the sound of that. His lower half began to squirm slightly, which some how only managed to further deepen the pleasure growing in his underside. His breathing hitched.
“Allow yourself to lean in fully, and experience the relaxation you deserve…”
He didn’t need to be told to twice. Without thinking his hands traveled down his chest, before settling on the mess of hair between his thighs. It’d been years since he’d felt any sort of human connection, and the soft wetness enveloped around his groin left him whimpering.
“Mhm, that’s it Jakey. Just relax, we got you…”
Steven’s eyes snapped open. “J-jake!”
Before Steven could even process what was happening, it was as if his entire body had leaped into action. If action meant throwing himself over the side of the bed, that is. His back hit the carpet with a loud thud.
“Ow! Fuck, by jaw!”
“Jake? You alright there baby?”
A pair of heads leaned over the side of the bed. The one to the left appeared wide eyed and confused, while the other seemed mostly preoccupied by their sore jaw. His jaw, they were both men. Not completely unattractive ones at that. Steven’s blush deepened. “I- uh, I-I think I need to use the bathroom.” His voice cracked, body quickly scrambling up into a standing position. The one to the left tilted his head in confusion, but didn’t seem offended. “Oh, okay. Well, the bathroom is over there to your right-”
“Uh, alright. Thanks. Cheers.”
With the directions given, the brit made a beeline for the small personal bathroom. The door slammed behind him, and the loud noise left his whole body jumping in fear. His head whipped around to the mirror. “Where are we Marc? Why are there- there-”
“Hot dudes waitin’ to fuck you?”
“Yeah! Well, erm, I didn’t mean to say they were hot- that’s a matter of opinion. An opinion my member seems to agree with, but that’s not the issue here- wait.”
Steven fell silent. His eyes danced over the naked figure standing in front of him. In that moment it didn’t feel like his reflection, or Marc’s. It didn’t even feel like he was inhabiting the same body. It was as if he was looking at a complete stranger. One with a heavy scowl, a slight flush to his cheeks, and a lack of patience in his eyes.
“Steven, be a doll and give me back the body.”