Nothing in Karl's life was the way it used to be. Viggo drained his glass of Chivas in silence, swirling the ice to catch the last droplets. "Been awhile," he finally said in greeting, his voice quiet. "Yeah." Karl passed his bottle back and forth between each hand, the motion spreading condensation across scarred wood. Didn't look at Viggo's hands, so close to his, far too close. "It has." "Look, I just, uh, want you to know...no hard feelings, alright?" As always, Viggo's measured voice brushed across Karl's ears like velvet. "Why should there be?" It was a lie, but Karl wasn't in the mood for truth. He shrugged instead, knocked back his shot. Looked at the crowd, the party, the tear-filled goodbyes of yet another premiere laid to rest, through the mirrored reflection. Easier than looking over at the man next to him. "I fucked up. But I can't regret it." "How's he doing, anyway?" "He's brilliant." And finally, Karl could look over at Viggo, could look into those calculating eyes that always saw too much. "Growing like a sprout, into everything. How's Henry?" "Same." Viggo's laugh was soft, cut through the din of the party, under Karl's skin with razor-sharp claws. "Growing, eating me out of house and home, wants a tattoo. He asked about you the other week." "What'd you tell him?" "That I'd tell you hi." "Return the favor for me." "Look, you wanna...get out of here, go for a real drink?" Not really, but Karl knew better than to say it out loud. This was Tokyo all over again, this was London, this was every city between Los Angeles and Auckland, every city that held no obligation, no hint of reality. "This won't solve anything," he said instead, but he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Walking away was for after, when he could still smell Viggo's scent on him, when he could hear the harsh moans echoing in his ears. "No," Viggo smiled, setting down his empty glass. "It won't." Their eyes met in the mirror. "Alright. One drink."
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