There were people watching him.
Callum tried to ignore it.
He had swapped out the 'Primordial Goddess Boobs' hat for a more neutral black cap with a simple yellow smiley face on it, but it didn't help. He could still feel their eyes—quick, darting glances, quiet murmurs, the subtle movements of people shifting their phones just enough to snap a picture.
They were trying to be discreet. They weren't very good at it.
Callum exhaled slowly through his nose and shoved a wad of cash into Micah's hands.
"Go. Have fun."
Micah frowned, already protesting. "Callum—"
Callum cut him off with a sharp look, nodding toward the stalls. "Buy whatever catches your eye."
Micah hesitated, still watching him, but eventually let it go with a sigh and wandered off with Elle, Rosa and Genesis, the four of them already spiraling into a discussion over a hand-painted jacket Rosa wanted.
Callum stepped back, putting distance between himself and the group.
He could still hear Micah laughing. Could hear his voice rise in embarrassment as Rosa, once again, made the case for buying a dick-shaped lamp stand.
Usually, he'd find it hilarious.
Right now, he could barely focus.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a woman lifting her phone slightly, the camera aimed right at him.
Callum shifted quickly, moving behind a stall before she could get her picture.
His stomach curled tight.
This wasn't paranoia. He wasn't imagining it.
The incident at Catalyst had made headlines—of course it had—but now it was becoming this. Strangers whispering about him. People trying to get a shot of the 'hot CEO whose company event almost killed someone.'
There were too many people here. Too many variables.
"Are you alright?"
Callum turned sharply.
Micah stood in front of him, his arms full of shopping bags, his brows furrowed in concern.
"I'm fine," Callum lied.
Micah's frown deepened. Callum didn't give him time to argue— "Here, let me take those," he said, grabbing the bags out of Micah's hands and shifting them to his own arms.
Micah let him. That, more than anything, unsettled Callum.
"You don't have to lie to me," Micah said softly.
Callum stilled.
Micah shifted his weight, looking down. "I know you feel like you have some… obligation to keep me safe. But let me take care of you too."
Callum swallowed.
How many times had Micah talked him down from a panic attack? How many times had he been stressed out, his nerves frayed and Micah stayed with him? Micah's soft touches and quiet presence was his anchor in tough times. Come to think of it, it was moments like those that deepened his feelings for Micah, that made him look at the man he is and not the man he was. Which was why Callum zeroed in on that word.
His grip tightened around the shopping bags.
"Obligation?"
That word sat heavy between them.
Micah looked embarrassed. "It's just that- I—"
Micah's phone rang and he startled, clearly grateful for the distraction as he immediately pulled it out.
His entire face lit up when he saw the caller ID.
Callum's stomach twisted.
"Sorry," Micah said, stepping back, "I have to take this."
He picked up the call. "Hey, babe."
Callum went still.
Damian.
The bitterness hit before he could stop it.
Micah's smile widened. His voice went softer, sweeter. "You're here! No, you don't have to— we're at the dildo lamp store— it's hard to miss."
Callum clenched his jaw as he watched Micah blush at whatever the response was. "Okay. See you in a bit."
He pulled the phone away from his ear, still smiling at the screen.
Callum forced his voice to stay level. "Your boyfriend's here?"
"Yeah!" Micah said brightly. "He's heading over."
Then, more carefully, he looked up from his phone and met Callum's gaze. "Just… let me know if you want to leave."
Callum's patience snapped.
"Why would I want to leave?" he asked, sharper than he meant to.
Was it because Damian was here that Micah wanted to chase him away?
Micah hesitated. "It's just that… you look like you're having a terrible time."
Callum's chest felt too tight. He hated that Micah could see right through him.
"I said I'm fine."
It came out too harsh.
Micah's expression shifted—just slightly—but Callum caught it. The faint flicker of hurt.
Micah exhaled, shoulders sinking slightly. "Y'know… I was anxious about coming here."
Callum blinked.
Micah gestured vaguely around them. "After everything that happened, I keep thinking… what if something blows up again? What if I'm there when it happens? The picnic was perfect. But I wasn't going to turn down spending time with my friends," he nodded toward Elle, Rosa, and Genesis, "plus usually, I love places like this."
"Usually," Callum repeated quietly.
Micah nodded. "I only found the courage to come here because you're here with me."
Callum's chest ached. He was such an asshole, snapping at Micah when he was supposed to be celebrating with him.
Micah looked at him again, more hesitant this time. "So if you're not happy then…"
Callum sighed. He had to make things right.
Slowly, he reached out and touched Micah's cheek. Just barely. A soft brush of his fingertips.
"I'm fine," he said, softer this time. "I promise."
Micah's lips parted slightly. His breath hitched. His green eyes widened, flickering with something Callum didn't have time to analyze because—
"Am I interrupting something?"
Callum's entire body stiffened.
Micah turned toward the voice—and lit up.
"Damian!"
He practically launched himself into Damian's arms.
Callum felt something in his chest curdle.
Damian caught Micah with an easy grace, wrapping his arms around him, squeezing tight before pulling back just enough to cup his face.
"Hi, my love," Damian murmured.
Then he kissed him.
Long. Slow.
Purposeful.
When he pulled back, Damian smirked at Callum.
Callum's fingers curled into fists.
He forced his voice to stay neutral. "Damian."
Damian turned to him with that same insufferable smirk, dressed in a white cropped shirt under a light blue striped over-shirt, beige shorts, and white sneakers.
His blonde hair was just a little too perfect, falling in soft, deliberate waves over his face.
"Callum," he greeted, far too enthusiastic. "How's business? Spoken to your dad recently?"
Callum knew what he was doing. He was goading Callum over the potential sale of Catalyst Games. Reminding him that his company was on the line.
Callum's jaw tightened. "Everything is fine."
Damian smirked, clearly not buying it.
Callum didn't care.
Damian turned back to Micah, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Ready to go, babe?"
"Go?" Elle asked, approaching.
"Go?" Micah echoed, blinking.
Damian smiled. "Of course. I want to spend the rest of the afternoon with you before we all meet up tonight."
Micah frowned. "Meet up for what?"
Damian winked. "That's a surprise."
Callum hated him. Wanted to kick that sly smirk off his face. He held on to his tongue though, for the sake of civility.
"Are we leaving?" Rosa asked, walking up with Genesis.
Micah hesitated. "Can we explore a little longer?"
"Sure," Damian said smoothly.
The group kept moving. Micah stuck to Damian's side. Callum carried the bags.
He was a sixth wheel.
It was hard not to feel salty about the fact that he's carrying bags while Damian had his arm wrapped around the man Callum so vehemently wanted. The day was going to shit so fast. Why hadn't Damian's plane just… crashed? Okay, that was harsh but he could've stayed out of the city!
Callum had had Micah to himself last night and this morning; those smiles, that laughter, they had all been for him. And now…
Micah bounded toward a stall selling hand-painted signs.
Damian slid in beside Callum.
"Don't think I don't see you lusting after my boyfriend," he murmured.
Callum growled. "Shut up."
Damian chuckled. "You know I was going to surprise him with that quaint little company of yours, right? Let him make all the games he wants?"
Anger and shock warred in Callum's stomach. "So that's why you want to buy the company that made his favourite game? Just so he can make more games?"
"Among other reasons," Damian said, still casual. "Besides, at least if I own it, he won't get exploded at any more company events."
"Screw you," Callum bit out.
Damian's smirk didn't waver. He chuckled, "I had a great comeback to that but that sponge you call a brain doesn't remember enough to understand it."
Callum's patience was already worn thin. "I remember just enough to know you said Micah would die by his 24th birthday," he hissed. "Well, happy birthday to him and thank the heavens he's still here."
"I didn't say that!" Damian hissed right back with venom in his tone. "You probably assumed that. You've always been fond of assuming bullshit."
Callum's stomach twisted. "So he's still going to…"
"Yes," Damian murmured. "Because fate is a cruel mistress."
There it was again.
That word.
Fate.
The world tilted. Callum knew it would've been too good to be true, that Micah's life had a time limit. But still, he'd hoped that they'd gotten past it in one piece. That the clock had somehow stopped ticking.
Callum's pulse thundered in his ears. He swallowed down the sick feeling rising in his chest and demanded, "When?"
Damian let out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his hair. "How the hell am I supposed to know?" His voice was lower now, rough with frustration. "Whatever stupid ritual you did back then changed things just enough that some days we can just—live. And then, other days, we're stuck playing out the same fucked-up script we always have."
Callum stared at him, trying to gauge whether he was telling the truth or just feeding him more half-truths and riddles.
He asked, carefully, "And how do you know?"
Damian's expression darkened, but instead of answering, he reached out and tapped the side of Callum's forehead—right against the scar at his temple.
Callum jerked back at the contact, scowling.
"This pretty little scar of yours," Damian murmured. "The one you definitely didn't get from falling off a Kinnarion seeing as they don't exist in this world."
Callum swatted his hand away. "And?" he pressed.
Damian didn't answer immediately.
His gaze flickered—just for a moment—before he looked away.
Callum scoffed. "So, that's all you have to go off on?"
"Fuck no," Damian spat. "The rest," he said, voice quieter now, "are my memories."
Callum inhaled slowly, forcing down his irritation.
He studied Damian carefully, weighing his next words before he finally said, "I saw you in my dream last night, y'know?"
Damian's head tilted slightly, but he didn't speak.
Callum continued. "Arrow had just died. You were passing by with some noble. You helped me build a pyre. You offered me a place in your court."
He hadn't expected Damian to confirm it.
Hadn't expected the faint flicker of sadness that crossed his face.
"I did," Damian said simply.
Something about the quiet admission sent a strange chill down Callum's spine.
He had come to terms with the fact that his dreams weren't just dreams—that they were memories. But there was still a disconnect, still a sense of distance, like watching echoes of a past he couldn't quite touch.
Hearing Damian confirm them in real time made them feel too real.
Callum exhaled. "I asked you why." His voice was quieter now. "Why would you do that? That's not the Edric I remember."
Damian's lips twitched— not in amusement but something sharper, something bitter.
"Then you don't really remember me," he murmured.
That struck something deep in Callum's chest.
Before he could say anything else, a voice interrupted.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Callum and Damian both turned.
Micah stood there with Elle, Rosa, and Genesis. His gaze flickered between them, something uncertain in his expression.
Genesis arched a brow at Callum in silent question.
Callum gave a slight shake of his head. Not now.
Damian, ever smooth, ever composed, was already shifting gears. He flashed a charming smile. "We're fine," he said easily. "Now, come on. I think I saw a booth selling retro cameras, and I've been meaning to buy one."
Micah hesitated.
Then, after a second, he nodded.
And just like that, the conversation was over.
But Callum still felt it— the weight of it, the way it clung to him like smoke, like something unfinished.
The same way everything between him and Damian always did.
And worst of all—
He knew Damian felt it too.