For the first time in a long time, Alexander saw him. It was painfully thespian, that moment, like seeing the man in technicolor and everything else in grayscale. He'd entered through the wide revolving doors and was stroding toward the elevator, where he dug his hands into his suit pockets and waited, something about him preying on Alexander's mind.

"Huh." Ptolemy pocketed his phone. "Cassander's called in sick again today."

Alexander hummed his acknowledgement and continued to survey the man, who turned to look idly around the lobby, allowing Alexander a view of his face. He had a stained wood complexion and a pair of bright blue eyes. Strands of loose brown curls fell out of his bun, brushing his unshaven jugular. Thick long hair and a lean-muscled build, each complementing the other, perfecting a sort of effortless androgyny that Alexander couldn't quite seem to get over.

Ptolemy frowned, following the path of Alexander's eyes and a look of astonishment fell over his face. "Dude. Isn't that Hephaestion?"

Alexander vaguely heard Ptolemy say something along the lines of "so different now" and "thought he died" before he found himself slipping past the shutting doors of the elevator and standing next to the man he had known so well in high school as the boy who never relinquished his dignity to grovel at the feet of the league of self-righteous elites that Alexander had called his friends.

"Hephaestion. Hi."

"Alexander?" Hephaestion looked genuinely surprised and Alexander tried to suppress the swell of pride at the fact that Hephaistion could still recognize him and hadn't forgotten his name. This kept him from noticing the deep furrow that was forming between the other man's brows.

"We haven't met in what, ten years?" Alexander laughed, feathery and awkward. "How've you been?"

"Good, good," replied Hephaestion, looking much like he'd rather be elsewhere, anywhere. "Do you work here?"

"Um, yeah," said Alexander, leaving out the fact that he was to own the company upon turning twenty-five that coming September. "What're you doing here?"

"It's my first day at work," said Hephaestion with a close-lipped smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Ah, which department will you be working under?"

"Advertising. And you?"

"Financial services." The words shot out of his mouth, being the first that came to mind.

The brunette nodded and a shroud of silence fell over them as Hephaestion watched the number on the elevator screen slowly increase and Alexander leaned back against the wall, scratching his nape in an internal struggle to continue their conversation.

"How about lunch at the-"

"So I'll see you around," interjected Hephaestion politely as the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor and he stepped out.

It hadn't turned out as well as Alexander would've liked.

"Good morning, Alexander," greeted Bagoas, Alexander's personal assistant of two years, taking his jacket from him and setting it neatly on the coat rack that stood at the far corner of his office.

"Morning," mumbled Alexander as he took his seat and sipped from his coffee, eyes glued to the computer screen.

"Cleitus has called from Oslo this morning to remind you of your appointment at seven tonight with Roxane."

Alexander looked up at this, clearly having forgotten about it. Roxane was a close friends of his whom he'd met in college. One thing strange about their relationship was that they were engaged to be married in two years, although neither had any non-platonic affections for the other. One could call it a marriage of convenience seeing as both of them had a preference for their own gender and a marriage between the two would've saved a lot of explanations. This, however, was unbeknownst to Cleitus, Alexander's thirty-six-year-old uncle and the current owner of the software company Delware, who was thrilled by the idea of his nephew's marriage and had begun taking all wedding arrangements and plans into his own hands. Alexander hated to lie, but he hated even more to think about how his uncle would react should Alexander decide to come clean with him.

"Where. . . exactly was the appointment again?"

"It will be at the photography studio." Bagoas turned to answer a phone call. "Alexander's office, how may I help you?"

"Bagoas, call Cassander for me, would you," said Alexander, apparently unaware that Bagoas was occupied at the moment. "I need to know where the hell that bastard is right now, he'd better not still be in bed. We didn't hire him to get laid every night and not turn up for work."

Bagoas took a moment to fix an incredulous glance at his boss before continuing to speak with the person on the other end of the phone. "Yes, Cassander. I will relay your message to him. . . Yes, goodbye."

"Was that Cassander?" asked Alexander needlessly.

"Yes, he says that he will not be well enough to attend work today but will however join you at the photography studio. If there's nothing else, I'll be in my office."

Alexander nodded dismissively and turned to his computer, letting his mind wander back onto the old friend he had encountered in the morning.

He remembered that the man used to be more than a head shorter than himself even at full height, had on braces that made his lips appear that much thicker, wore his hair short and curly, and always walked in a way that made it seem like he didn't know what to do with his hands. He also remembered how he was a little bit obsessed with him.

But Hephaestion had grown up gracefully. Now he was about the same height as Alexander himself and the blonde couldn't quite seem to shake the image of how regal he'd looked in a suit, how charmingly his loose hair fell around his face and how his aquamarine eyes lit up his tan face, from his stuffy head. He was going to meet the man again today.

Hephaestion exhaled deeply as he settled in his cubicle. Here he was, exactly where he'd sworn never to be just some years ago. Deskbound. He hated the sound of it to the very core of each syllable.

The advertising job at Delware was, of course, not his first option. His initial plan was to get a part-time job, bartending perhaps, to fund his apprenticeship for the beginning years until he was good to open his own studio. Little did he expect that he would give up the life of a starving artist that he'd so ardently sworn by and get himself a job at a software company.

Hephaestion wasn't sure if he could ever become accomodated to such an environment even if only half the stories about clerical life were true. And to make matters worse, he had just recently discovered that he was about to be colleagues with one of the group of boys who had ensured that most of his high school life was spent in misery. But of course he wasn't going to let the bleakness of his past resurface. He decided that seeing as Alexander was working in the financial department, which was situated right at the other end of the building, it couldn't be too difficult to avoid bumping into him. But just to be on the safe side, he was going to have lunch in the office that day.

"Thought you'd be here," said an all too familiar voice as a bag of takeaway food was placed on his desk. "You like Thai food?"

Hephaestion frowned, feeling slightly sick at Alexander's outwardly thoughtful gesture. Thai food was indeed Hephaestion's favorite, but he had no business with admitting that fact. He mustered a smile. "You didn't have to. I bought sandwiches from the cafeteria."

"Nobody eats from the cafeteria. The food there is trash," laughed Alexander, pulling out a chair from the opposite cubicle to sit next to him and then picking Hephaestion's sandwiches up and throwing them carelessly in the bin. "So how've you been, really?"

For several seconds, Hephaestion stared blankly at the barely-eaten sandwich in his personal bin, half-buried in scraps.

Recovering from his mind trip, he pushed his chair further under the desk and placed his hand on the mouse, hoping that Alexander knew a thing about body language and would just go away. "I'd love to chat, but there's work that needs to be done."

"It's your first day at work. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't give you too much responsbility just yet."

"Do not undermine my abilities, Alexander."

"What're you - that's not what I meant." Alexander was severely confused by the turn that the conversation had taken. What's with this guy? I drive two streets down to the best restaurant around to buy him lunch and he snubs me? "Did I do something?"

Hephaestion turned to look at him before clearing his throat and fixing his eyes back on his computer screen. "Look, could we just pretend we never met each other before this?"

"I don't get it. What's bothering you?" asked Alexander, pulling two boxes of noodles out of the bag and pushing one to the distressed brunette. "Eat it before it turns cold."

"Why did you buy me lunch?" asked Hephaestion after a few seconds of silent frustration passed. "You used to throw it at me. You used to steal my clothes after gym class. You used to lock me in my own goddamn locker. Why are you buying me lunch?"

"What? Hephaestion, I've never done any of those things. Just what the hell are you talking about?"

"You've never done any of that, but your friends have," by now Hephaestion's voice was barely above a whisper, and he was feeling like the helpless teenager that he was just some years ago. "But what did I ever do to you?"

"Believe me, I had no clue that any of that has ever happened to you. . ."

"Let's just not talk about this anymore," said Hephaestion, feeling like he had sufficiently humiliated himself. "Please just go back to your department and pretend this conversation never happened."

Alexander nodded and, watching Hephaestion warily, left the room before disappearing behind the elevator doors.

Hephaestion groaned into his hands. He had once again just done something he'd promised himself not to do.