Time's Up, Chapter 3 (part 1)
Chapter 2
...
Part 1
...
Merlin re-read the email and clicked the “x” to close it. Mr Kevin Elgar, his father’s Research Lab Manager, had politely but firmly declined his application. For the fifth time.
Maybe next time he should try it under a fake name? But the lab would ask for a proof of his previous experience in research, and Merlin had none. And he couldn’t pretend to be someone else when everyone had known him there since he was a kid.
It was driving him mad. His father hired a lot of talented young people regardless of their background-as long as it wasn’t hurting the company. He often paid for his employees’ education in return for them staying and working for him after graduation. Yet, what was routinely granted to some lads practically from the street was denied to his own bloody son.
Merlin didn’t lie to Arthur when he told him he loved his family’s business. Since a young age, his passion was chemistry: the chemical reactions, the formulas, the compositions. He was amused to no end by The Discovery Channel programmes explaining how to make Egyptian papyrus at home, or dissolve an iron grill with a hot sauce. There was nothing better than to camp out on the couch and, while crunching on popcorn, watch “MythBusters”, episode after episode. And Merlin could spend hours in the lab, forgetting himself and the time. He was enchanted by the rows of test tubes, burners, spatulas, scoopulas, scales, by huge periodic table posters, and his own experiments. He was never afraid to get injured or poisoned by inhaling some crap. He remembered sharing with his friends at school that seemingly harmless fumes of hydrogen sulphide are extremely toxic and in high concentration can kill with one breath. On the other hand, the same fumes in a stinking mud bath had a scientifically proven healing effect on people. This power of chemical elements to be both a poison and a cure made his heart race in his chest. Chemistry could heal or destroy-and it was all about who used the knowledge and with what intentions.
But knowledge wasn’t all of it. Despite what others thought, Merlin didn’t consider himself brilliant in everything. On the contrary-in life, he suffered from constant bouts of insecurity, but in a lab, he knew that in a lab he was practically a god. Balinor was considered a very talented scientist, while Merlin, according to a popular opinion, was promising to turn into a genius researcher.
Alas, it was hard to meet someone’s expectations when your hands were tied. Merlin was allowed into the lab only under supervision and couldn’t make a single step outside of given instructions. If he wanted to run his own test, he had to send an official request, which would land on his father’s desk. Balinor had always approved... but the test always had to be performed by someone else. By those who actually had graduated college and had a degree. Merlin saw the results and could either be proud of them or continue improving the formula if it didn’t work, but he’d always been robbed of the sweetest prize-of seeing the test with his own eyes.
That was why he’d sunk so low. Rented a dilapidated house in the outskirts of the city, equipped it the best he could, and began to synthesise the drug. He couldn’t afford more serious and interesting tests knowing their potential destroying power. He was somewhat mollified by the fact that at least he could enjoy what he loved to do best without being supervised. In addition, profit from meth turned out to be a useful tool for buying more equipment for his mini-lab. How else could Merlin explain to his father bloody why he needed a centrifuge?
This pain could’ve been avoided entirely if Balinor wasn’t so stubborn and let him do his experiments in his lab. Merlin pushed away his laptop and sprawled out on his bed. This arsehole Arthur had no clue what was really going on with Merlin. Rubik’s Cube wouldn’t solve his self-fulfilment problem and wouldn’t make his father treat Merlin as an adult.
Rubik’s bloody Cube. Unwrapping the present, Merlin slapped himself in the forehead. Did Arthur mean to embarrass him? Did he really consider him a child?
Disgruntled, Merlin crossed his eyes-from this angle he could partly see the nightstand, the backpack he’d dropped on the floor near the table, and the colorful corner of the cube. So, was that how Arthur supposed Merlin should kill his boredom? Shame, because meth could keep him occupied for a lot longer than forty-nine seconds.
Meth. His last stash had been transferred from the garage to the back pocket of his jeans yesterday. Merlin nervously licked his lips and looked at the half-cracked door. His mum was busy in the kitchen, making his father’s favorite pork stew. Today was their wedding anniversary, it would be bloody selfish to ruin this special day from them.
Oh well, he could take a bump in his lab, or in the club in a couple of hours. What was the difference?
The process of dressing up took an unusually long time. Merlin slowly did up a mohawk, as if making a frame by frame movie. Gel kept sticking to his fingers, strands of hair taking shape, and finally it was properly done. Or properly undone, depending on the point of view.
Grabbing his leather jacket and trying to make as little noise as possible, Merlin ran down the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Hunith walked into the hall, wiping her hands. Merlin swore inwardly. “Can’t you stay home today?”
Here we go. Same soft-caring tone that only made his guilt grow bigger inside. With a hint of mistrust, causing nothing but resentment.
“To see Arthur. He called me,” Merlin lied, pushing the laces inside his Converses.
“This late?” Hunith wondered.
“Maybe he has long working hours.” Merlin shrugged his shoulders. “See you.”
He doubted his parents were going to call Arthur. They had other things to do in his absence. Somehow everyone else in the world was busy with something, except Merlin.
Actually, why not pay a visit to Arthur tonight? Considering he kind of left his client hanging. Snorting, Merlin jumped оnto the incoming bus and turned on the music: Arthur’s office was about half an hour away.
The guards at the Pendragon’s office took their time studying his ID and finally issued Merlin a visitor’s badge. The receptionist mildly wished him a good evening. The last obstacle was to get around Arthur’s overly loyal personal assistant (part-time Cerberus), and the mission would be accomplished.
This time, Morris wasn’t very surprised to see him.
“Hello,” Merlin greeted him politely. “Working late until your master sets you free?”
“Good evening. How can I help you?” Morris was his usual stone-cold impassive self. Like a Japanese-Korean robot. An exemplary employee.
“You can help me by letting me see Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin replied ceremoniously. He even removed his hands out of his pockets.
Not easily fooled, Morris frowned and picked up the phone. “Mr Pendragon, someone here... Yes, I remember... I certainly didn’t want to interrupt you, but Mr Emrys is here asking to see you. Yes, in person. Very well.”
“So, will he see me?” Merlin tried to be friendly with Morris. For some reason, he felt bad for this bloke who had just been chastised for nothing. Looked like Arthur wasn’t in the best mood.
What should Merlin expect, then?
While he was speculating, Morris walked away from his desk and opened the door to Arthur’s office.
“Can I get you anything, Mr Emrys?”
“Yes, water.” Merlin nodded, entering the already familiar room.
The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. So much so, Merlin thought if he touched anything, he’d be hit by electric shock. Arthur didn’t pay his visitor any attention, and Merlin, after a short hesitation, sat on the edge of the table.
“What do you want?” Arthur grudgingly asked at last.
“You’re rude. Where are your manners?” Merlin was about to laugh and stopped himself, suddenly losing his wit. Arthur didn’t look amiable at all. Finishing typing a sentence, he raised his head and finally deigned a glance at Merlin.
“Fuck the manners today,” he said quietly. “Who told you that you could come here?”
“Do I need a special invitation?” Merlin was taken aback.
“Indeed. My personal invitation. I have loads of things to do, and no time for your fits.”
“Should I tell my daddy you decided to drop our sessions?” Merlin grabbed the opportunity.
For some reason the thought was upsetting. Sure, he didn’t expect to be greeted with hugs and kisses, but he didn’t deserve to be belittled and disrespected, either. Even that first time Arthur didn’t treat him as if he was a piece of shite. Somewhat condescending, yes, but not as if he was a baby.
“Shut up. What do you want?”
“Well, you are my therapist. I came for a session-if that’s what you want to call it.” Merlin scowled. He should’ve gone to the club instead.
“That’s right. I’m your therapist and I schedule your ‘so-called sessions’. Understood? Now, get on with it. What’s going on?”
“Nothing much. I’m just bored.”
Dead silence filled the air. A smile, permanently fixed on his face was starting to hurt his muscles, but Merlin was determined to play the gentleman. Although an unpleasant feeling of doom kept growing in his gut.
“You’re bored?” Arthur asked in disbelief.
That’s it. He’ll smack me.
“Well, yes. Thank you for the Rubik’s Cube, by the way, but I’ve been able to solve it in less than a minute since I was a kid.”
“Really?”
Merlin sighed and removed the intricate colourful toy from his pocket. He studied it carefully from all sides, rolled it in demonstration in front of Arthur’s face, to prove the cube was indeed not solved yet. He softly counted, “one, two, three,” and then his hands started moving in automatic motion, manipulating the puzzle. Shortly, the perfectly assembled toy was dropped on the table before Arthur.
“Forty-nine and half seconds,” Arthur stated, checking the watch.
“My point. Not the most entertaining pastime.” Merlin stretched leisurely, and then extracted a small packet with crystals inside. “Do you mind?”
Arthur didn’t say anything. Merlin shook out the content of the packet onto the perfectly-polished oak table, meticulously working it into straight lines using his canceled credit card. He smiled brightly at a startled Morris, who just walked in and placed a glass of water next to him.
“And what are you waiting for?” Arthur impatiently flipped his hand at Merlin, giving him a go-ahead. “Go on, snort the shite.”
“You’re letting me? How nice of you. I hope you won’t run your mouth about this.”
“Actually, I’ll do you better, I’ll help you.” Arthur pulled a note out of his wallet and threw it to Merlin.
“Why so generous?” Merlin said with acid in his tone, twisting the note between his fingers. Something was amiss. Not right.
“You’re wrong. This is for the sake of saving. Go ahead, snort it already. The faster you tweak the fuck on, the sooner I’ll be free of this bloody buggery, and everyone will be happy. Me, for one. I suspect you, too, although not for long, but that’s not my problem anymore.”
Merlin swallowed hard. Brilliant, what else was there to say. His fingers shook as he rolled the note. Arthur, not paying him any attention, immersed himself in his laptop again. As if showing Merlin he no longer existed in his perfect and stable world.
And he was right. Merlin would feel great for the first five hours. After that-empathising and disappointed looks from Gaius, mum’s quiet wailing, dad’s exhausting lectures. And a bone-deep disgust with himself. For giving up so easily.
Arthur’s phone started ringing, and while he was answering the call, Merlin picked up the glass of water Morris brought in earlier. He took a few sips, watching the knackered-looking Arthur. He probably did have a lot to deal with. He probably barely had any sleep.
Merlin huffed, accepting his own defeat. Arthur was a hopeless git, but if Merlin finished what he just started, he’d lose the only person who could shake him out of his misery. The only one who could help.
When Arthur put down his cell, Merlin reach out and tipped the glass. The water splashed all over the table, turning the crystals into a mess. Arthur arched his eyebrows.
“I’m unbelievably clumsy.” His face was getting numb from the fake grin.
Without a word, Arthur pressed the button on the phone on his desk. A moment later, Morris appeared through the opened door.
“Morris, see Mr Emrys out and clean this up, please. “
Got to learn how to lose, too. Merlin slid from his spot and, nodding to Arthur, shuffled to the exit.
“I’ll contact you, Mr Emrys.”
Dumbfounded, Merlin didn’t get an opportunity to respond; when he turned around, Morris already shut the door to his boss’s office.
Chapter 3 part 2