Kallithea, Athens

19:29

"Marc." Manolis stepped aside for his friend to enter the apartment.

They hadn't seen each other since military camp, and that was almost five months ago; five long and difficult months.

"Thank you for having me." The boy greeted him and walked inside the living room.

"Well, we should have arranged this meeting much earlier." That one was Peter, Manolis's boyfriend, and roommate. He was quite the dashing young man, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of gym pants. He had light brown hair, unlike Manolis, who had darker colors, and he looked way sweeter than the other.

"You must be Peter. Manolis wouldn't shut it about you." He joked and Manolis punched him lightly on his shoulder before taking a seat on the couch.

"He also mentioned that you were going to bring your boyfriend."

Marc stood still for a good moment. "Right…" the boy stuttered a little and rubbed the back of his head.

"Is everything alright? Did you two have a fight?"

"No, no. It's just that there has been a small misunderstanding." He watched Peter sitting on the couch's arm and folding his arms, while both men were waiting for an explanation. "Um," he brushed his black hair backwards with his fingertips and nibbled on his lip ring, "Well…I wanted to discuss it with you before you leave camp, but then you had to rush back to Athens and blah, blah, " he made a funny gesture with his hand, "I guess I forgot about it."

"Do you mind me for a bit? I need to go and check on the food. We are having stew; you like it, right?" Peter asked halfway towards the kitchen.

"Even if you say no, this is what you are gonna eat. There is no alternative." Manolis joked and moved closer to his friend. "Spill the beans, unless you want to wait for our chef to come back."

Marc shrugged and let his backpack slide from his shoulders and fall down. "I can wait," he replied after a while, searching through his stuff and pulling out his wallet. "You got a nice hubby there, Manolis."

The man's face lit red from the intense blush. "Shut up, you fucker."

"It's the truth, though. And I am not just saying this." He shrugged.

"Watch it. We might be buddies but I am still nine years older than you."

Marc lifted his arms with a sly smile, surrendering but still chuckling.

"OK, I am back!" Peter said with a happy tone and threw his slim body on the couch, pulling a pouting Manolis next to him. Marc sat right across them on one of those colorful puff pillows. His body sank down to an acceptable level, and he pulled his knees close to his chest.

"Now you can tell us. What's up with your boyfriend?"

Marc snapped his wallet open with just a flip of his hand. One side had three different cards: a debit card, one for public transport, and a supermarket one. On the other side, however, was an old photo of two teenagers standing side by side and smiling widely. The dark-haired boy with a pierced top lip, Marc probably, was covering his eyes from the sun, while the other had his hair tied hastily in a top knot, wearing sunglasses, and slurping a smoothie.

"Well, this is him."

"Your boyfriend?" Peter asked hesitantly.

"Yeah. His name's Chris." Marc looked at the photo and caressed it gently with his thumb. "He died two years ago in an accident."

"Marc?" Manolis noticed his red, watery eyes.