Morning came, and he was alone.
Of course, Arthur already knew they came to that hotel for sex and nothing more. He had expected that Gin bore no further feelings--or intention--about him. He was nothing more than a rude alpha who suddenly disturbed Gin's night and had the audacity to ask for sex after getting protected from a bunch of drunkards.
He knew that already. He was already expecting it. Still, he spent five minutes just staring blankly at the empty bed. If it wasn't for the crinkle in the sheet and the indentation on the pillow, Arthur might think the man he called 'Gin' was nothing more than his imagination.
In the next minute, Arthur chided himself for not getting that number before they drifted to sleep. Was looking at Gin's blissful, satisfied expression gave him the illusion that the man would like him enough to stay around?
Stupid, stupid Arthur.
He groaned in frustration--at himself and the cruel man who planted his existence deep within him--and buried his face into the other man's cold pillow. He inhaled, wishing to smell anything--soap, or even just sweat--and was hit by something else.
Something more.
Something floral, like violet and bluebell, with a powdery feeling left at the end.
Was it the motel's softener? But when Arthur smelled the pillow he used, there was no such scent--just a regular, clean cotton detergent hotel usually used. For a second, considering how it was left on the pillow where Gin's neck would touch it, Arthur thought it resembled the scent of pheromone from someone's scent gland, but...
It was so thin that even his sensitive nose could barely smell it unless he concentrated.
Pheromone shouldn't smell this weak. Even the minimal amount contained in an omega or alpha's sweat would be several times stronger than this, much more if it came out during sex.
Besides...Gin was a beta...right? He didn't react to Arthur's pheromone, after all.
Maybe it was a perfume? Something so subtle it had mostly gone away and was only left behind because Gin was sweating profusely?
Of course, Arthur also considered that it was something the previous guest left behind, but...
For someone who was left with nothing--no name, no number, no possible memory of that person's face--this little scent was the only thing Arthur had. The only proof that the incredible, life-changing night wasn't a fragment of his imagination. Even if it was a lie, he wanted to pretend that the scent was indeed coming from Gin.
When he came back home, after the stuff with Camilla quickly settled in court, Arthur told everyone he would accept his father's offer and go abroad to continue his studies.
All because of a conversation he had with a man who felt more like a fog than a person.
And even after six years had passed without any encounter, he still had that person visiting his mind from time to time. A faceless figure whose traits were getting blurrier and blurrier, and whose voice kept fading away. At that point, Gin's existence only persisted through Arthur's sheer stubbornness, clinging to a few hours of fantasy.
Arthur leaned his head back, taking a deep breath as if he could keep that formless scent inside his lungs. Invisible, barely there. The pillowcase he took from the hotel was still at the base of his suitcase, even though he could no longer smell anything from it.
A haunting, invisible scent.
"Hmm..." Arthur glanced curiously at the manuscript on top of the box visible from the balcony door. "That's the title, isn't it?"
* * *
Going to a company during the day instead of typing away at his dining table was something Eugene still needed to adapt to. So did styling himself, which he hadn't done much since he had a daughter.
His hair had been cut short, harder for a child to grab onto. His money was spent on his daughter's wardrobe, so he hadn't been up to date with the latest trends. He found that it was easy to ignore all of that when one was busy raising a child on one's own.
But then again, his old style probably would be too flashy for a company. His old friends would have laughed at his current style--monochrome, easy to wash, as simple and plain as it could be--but they also had no child who might draw on their clothes at any given time, so...
"Oh, Mr. Kim, you're wearing glasses today?" the youngest writer he had grown close to, Diana, greeted him cheerfully as always.
"I lost my contact somewhere," Eugene said with a smile, as if he wasn't wearing it because he wanted to minimize the possibility of a particular alpha recognizing him.
"It suits you!" Diana nodded with a smug smile, fixing her own glasses.
On that cheerful note, Diana told him what they were going to do that day, which was overseeing the audition for the main lead. Eugene never thought that he would get involved beyond the scriptwriting process, but the producer even gave him veto power during the audition.
He had heard that Seed Production valued original sources, but he really gave the author a lot of power.
Not bad. At least he could make sure the actor playing the protagonist was completely different from him.
After Diana told him the way to the adjacent building where the audition would be held, Eugene walked around the building to find the vending machine he had seen during the last meeting. Going too early made him feel like he would be coming across some celebrities, so he planned to stay away as much as he could.
He didn't mean to hear some office gossip while quietly sipping on a warm coffee, however.
"Have you seen that new hire?"
"That arrogant-looking alpha?"
The voices came from a secluded corner that seemed to be used as an unofficial break room and smoking room, judging from the smell. It was right behind the wall where the vending machine was, so Eugene could clearly hear them.
How careless of them, gossiping where people could hear.
"Technically, he's not a new hire. He had worked with the branch company," someone else said, different from the other two. "If anything, he's a transfer."
"Whatever he is, he's not only arrogant-looking--he is arrogant," the first voice responded with a scoff.
"You've come across him?"
"Hah--you should hear the fight broken between the sound team."
There was a pause, and then the sound of chairs moving closer together. "What fight?"
"I don't know who started it, but it seemed like the new guy and the sound director had a big argument," the first voice started, their excitement could be heard in every breath.
"Ah...you know how it is: one of them is Producer Wynne's brother, and another one is in Director Ervia's line," the third voice, who seemed to know more about the office's internal situation, snickered. "The whole department is like a faction war right now."
Eugene arched his brow behind the wall. This alpha...seemed to be prone to fights.
"That's fine and all, but...you would think someone new and young would be more tactful with their words, you know?" the first voice grumbled. "But he kept frowning and scrunching his face when he talked to other people, as if we're not on his level or something. So annoying."
"He's one of the owners' relative, so that's probably true," the second voice chuckled.
"That! That's what I want to talk about!" The instigator of it all finally arrived at their objective. "That guy is stationed at the enemy's camp despite being a parachute. Do you think he was sent there to pivot the whole department to the Wynnes' side?"
"Is there a need to do that?"
"There's a need if they want to make him a successor."
There was a series of scoffing sounds. "What is this again?"
"You haven't heard this one? About him probably came to be groomed as Ashley's successor?" the voice became quieter this time, as if they finally realized they had been talking about something sensitive. "There's a talk about how he's positioned as a non-executive to train him. I mean, why would you put the grandson of the owner in a regular position like sound editor?"
"Oh~"
"Someone in PR group chat seemed to think Ashley Wynne won't succeed the company, but the new guy is," the whisper, thankfully, was still loud enough for Eugene to catch on. "You know, since he's a male alpha and all."
The speculation invited a gasp. "If that's the case, maybe he was thrown to the sound team to get rid of?"
What kind of convoluted thought was that? Eugene tilted his head beside the vending machine. If the Wynne co-owned this company, why would someone named Crowley succeed it? If those cousins were rivals, why would Ashley send Arthur as her proxy during the meeting?
All of those theories about Arthur's existence seemed to be woven by pure desire for an exciting company talk. Eugene shook his head and decided he had overheard enough.
Arthur Crawley...he was a bit annoying, but Eugene didn't dislike him enough to enjoy hearing people talking badly about that man. Arthur Crowley, in his memory, was more naive and ignorant if anything; a confused soul who grew up sheltered and privileged, but courteous enough not to deliberately pick a fight with someone unprovoked.
Kind of like a young master.
Ugh--Eugene crumpled the empty coffee can and threw it into the nearest bin. Why should he think about that man when he was supposed to avoid him?
He did agree with the frowning and scrunching, though. It reminded him of that night at the bar, how Arthur looked in front of his date. Did he actually do that indiscriminately?
Eugene tilted his head, stopping at the exit connecting the main building to the adjacent one they'd used for the audition.
But why...did Arthur look fine while talking to him that night?
What was it he said...
Something about perfume? Strong smell?
"Mr. Crowley!"
Eugene flinched and instinctively looked around. On the bridge connecting the two buildings, he saw the tall figure of an alpha, looking at someone approaching him with apparent displeasure in his face.
Speak of the devil, and he will appear.