Victor
Victor Morgan disliked “Luke Duty”.
It was one in the morning, and Victor held Luke by his ankles over the edge of a roof, three stories up.
Because Luke was curious, he was hanging over a downtown Charleston home, where anyone could walk by at any moment, including the police.
Luke dangled, inching his way down to avoid dropping his weight so Victor wouldn’t spill off the edge of the roof. His hair was tied back into a tiny bun on the back of his head. He’d already removed his shirt, as it was too loose and would have gotten in the way.
If it wasn’t for the mess of trees in the front yard shielding them, Victor was sure that with Luke’s blond hair and fair skin, they’d draw loads of attention—even late at night.
The grit of the tiles dug into the bottoms of Victor’s bare feet, and it hurt to keep standing. It was painful, and getting worse now that he was carrying so much extra weight and dug his heels into the roof. If Luke had only warned him they’d be doing this, he could have brought sneakers instead of slick shoes that he’d had to leave on the ground.
Keep still. Just hang on.
He breathed in warm, damp air, and then bit his tongue. His muscles shook. Helping Luke commit trespassing or breaking-and-entering wasn’t the sort of Academy work he was used to. Playing the piano and tapping at a computer keyboard didn’t give him a lot of time for strength training like the others.
Luke wriggled as he dangled over the edge of the roof, swinging toward the house, and reached out to grip the ledge of a window. He had a lean body, but he was taller and bigger than Victor, definitely outweighing him.
Victor readjusted and locked his arms around Luke’s legs, but the jeans Luke wore were of a slippery material, and he still felt like he was losing him.
“Hurry up,” he whispered through clenched teeth. They had no idea if the people inside were home, and he didn’t want to find out either way. He just wanted to leave. With Luke in one piece.
Luke said nothing, but his toes wriggled.
Just when Victor wasn’t sure he could hold onto him, Luke pulled his ankles away from his grip; he wanted to be released.
Was he insane? They were three stories up. If Victor let go, Luke would end up dangling from the window. How would he get back up?
When Luke tugged again, his body arching, Victor lost his grip, his heart lurching in terror at his sudden helplessness. Luke’s feet punched into Victor’s stomach as he launched himself over the edge.
Winded, Victor dropped to the roof, and then, once steady, forced himself to look over the edge, peering down to the concrete driveway below.
Nothing. No splattered body.
He was relieved but frowned, then realized Luke was most likely through the window. Somehow, with his Luke Magic, he’d made it inside.
Victor bit back a few choice words. How could he be so reckless? He wasn’t just risking his neck; he was risking a reputation as well. If anyone saw Victor helping someone break into the house, it would be all over the news in a heartbeat. He’d said he just wanted to look in the windows. What happened to the plan?
The smell of a rainstorm on the way hit his nose as a breeze whipped into his face. He waited, and without anything else to do, reached absently into his pocket, temporarily forgetting that he didn’t bring his own iPhone.
He felt the emergency flip phone instead. He considered using it to let Mr. Blackbourne know Luke was stupidly taking such big risks. He didn’t want to tattle, but Luke sometimes needed stronger guidance than Victor could provide. Mr. Blackbourne was one of the few people Luke actually took seriously.
Right now, though, there was nothing he could do but wait. He couldn’t go in. He wasn’t even sure he could get off the roof on his own.
He quietly tapped out the entirety of a Mozart tune on his leg with his fingertips, slowing on the last few bars to give Luke extra time.
Nothing. Silence.
The silence was better than gunfire or screaming. Luke remained unnoticed, whatever he was doing in there.
Victor scanned the street below, listening for any signal from Luke that he might need help getting back on the roof. He doubted he could lift Luke back up again. He wasn’t sure Luke could even climb his way back up to the roof from the window. He was good but not that good.
It had taken both of them ages to get up there in the first place. Victor studied the small front lawn surrounding the driveway. It was a long way down, and if Luke never reappeared, he would need to find a way down on his own.
There was a patch of grass for a front lawn, but with gnarled, old tree roots sticking out that he expected would be painful to land on; not that he would consider jumping from so high. He’d break something for sure.
He frowned and combed back his hair, wishing it was longer so he could tie it back like Luke. The waves got into his eyes, caught in the light, warm breeze. Maybe he should let Gabriel cut it shorter next time, he mused.
A few moments later, he realized if Luke were to get into trouble, he couldn’t help him sitting on the roof.
Most likely Luke would try to escape through a window or open back door.
Victor studied the outside of the building for a way down. The garage on the other side of the house wasn’t high enough for Victor to jump on and was too far away.
There was a back porch. That, at least, was closer than the ground.
He slowly moved toward the back of the house, crouched on all fours and crawled to keep his center of gravity low.
He wasn’t afraid of heights, but without Luke, he was losing his confidence. Why had he ever said yes to this?
What an insane life he had. In the dead of night, in the dark alone and up on a roof, sneaking around like a thief or pervert; would anyone believe it of Victor Morgan, teen piano prodigy?
He knew it’d be shocking if anyone saw him like this, but he somehow often found himself in these situations. He hardly believed it himself sometimes.
???
It took fifteen minutes for Victor to climb down onto the roof of the back porch and then dangle over the edge and drop to the ground.
By the time he was down on the ground, he’d ripped his pants and lost two buttons off the formerly crisp and clean white shirt he wore. The side of his face stung after he’d scraped it on the way down.
Secretly, he was not only relieved but also proud of himself. Maybe he didn’t like this type of work, like Luke did, but Victor just scaled down a three-story home in the dark without getting caught. It was a better accomplishment than his last sold out concert.
Once he was on the lawn, he ducked behind a tree out of view of the house and planned his route to the rendezvous spot. He had no idea whose house this was, and he’d be lucky if they didn’t know his face from the media. He assumed Luke knew if he dared to go inside. Still, just in case, Victor needed to get going before one of them caught Luke.
He crouched, using the low bushes as his cover. He was just about to reach the gate when a loud pop came from the house.
It wasn’t a gun—more like a cap gun going off—but Victor dropped to the ground and waited. What the hell was going on?
Victor waited for several long moments, but no other sounds came from the house. Finally, he got up on his hands and knees. A few more feet and he could stand up properly and make a dash for the street and pretend he was never there. He’d still have to wait for Luke, but he’d do it out of sight.
A body crashed on top of him, forcing Victor flat against the ground with a grunt as all the air was squeezed out of his lungs. The body wasn’t fighting him, just holding him down. The weight, though, was familiar. He knew who it was, once the shock wore off.
“Oughfff,” Victor let out an exasperated grunt. He hated when Luke jumped him.
“Miss me?” Luke said in his ear, his body still weighing down on top of him, keeping him flat to the ground.
Victor ignored the question as his cheek landed in a moss heap, and he breathed in the scent of mud. Was that a bug on his hand? He tried to ignore it, remaining still, letting Luke stay on top of him. Someone must be looking for him; he had gotten caught.
More time passed, maybe another ten minutes, before Luke slowly rolled off of Victor onto the grass. No police sirens in the distance getting louder. No one coming out from the house.
They’d dismissed Luke to be a figment of their imagination, or assumed he was a squirrel or something else that was of no threat. Not that it mattered, as long as they got away safe.
Being cautious, they still crawled to the sidewalk before they stood and started walking away. Their shoes and Luke’s shirt were around the corner hidden under a bus stop bench. If they’d had to run from the house, they didn’t want to leave evidence on the property. They collected them and put them back on. Victor checked the hole in his pants. As long as no one shone a bright light on them, it was hard to see it.
He resisted the desire to brood over the thought of someone taking a photo of him like this. Sometimes he became paranoid, and that was probably thanks to his mother. If she saw him in such a state, she’d barrage him, saying people will think he was strange, or he’d be treated poorly among their social circle.
They’d do a few circles around the city streets before heading back to Victor’s house, just to lose anyone who might have been following them. It was standard operating procedure.
They didn’t talk until they were several homes away.
“Why in the world did you go in?” Victor asked him the moment he thought it was safe. “That was so stupid.”
“I couldn’t see inside; there was a weird light thing,” Luke said. “And I hadn’t been inside that one. Those old houses are nice on the inside.”
“Then you should ask, politely, during the day, to look inside,” he said. “Not at night.”
“It’s not the same. You know I need to practice.”
“You said you needed practice climbing a roof or two and asked if I’d be a lookout. You didn’t say anything about going inside.”
“We did the outside practice, but then I thought I should do the inside practice, too. You’ve got to do it sometimes, or you get rusty.”
Victor grumbled, but he knew there wasn’t a lot he could say to convince him. Luke had different ideas of boundaries. “You know, Mr. Blackbourne won’t like this.”
“He’d say I‘d need practice, too.”
“Not like that.”
Luke sighed, and then stretched his arms up to the sky and then, resting his forearms on top of his head as he walked alongside Victor. “I’m just a little restless, I think. I’m not really excited about our school plan.”
“You’re not?” Victor said, in a quieter tone. He put his hands in his pockets, hanging on to the emergency phone, focusing on the sidewalk. “I’m kind of curious about high school. Don’t you want to see what the classes are like?”
“I don’t think you remember school like I do,” Luke said. “There was homework and bullies...”
“And interesting lectures,” Victor said.
“That’s the college,” Luke said. “You’ve gone to the college too much. We’re talking high school.”
Victor smirked at the sidewalk. “There will be girls.”
Luke said nothing, but tilted his head toward the sky, and dropped his arms to his sides.
Victor got quiet, too. They turned down a side street and continued their seemingly random walk through neighborhoods.
High school. Girls their age. Victor rarely got a chance to meet anyone who didn’t know his name and face before he got to know theirs. It was hard to blend in downtown. Too many locals recognized him with just a glance.
A new school, a public school, was a chance to get lost in the crowd and be normal, even if only for a little while.
“We won’t be able to get involved,” Luke said, after a few blocks.
“What?”
“The girls,” he said. The soles of his shoes made scraping sounds as he walked. “We won’t be able to have girlfriends. You know that.”
“Sure we can,” Victor said. “It’s harder to do but...”
“We wouldn’t be able to tell them anything,” Luke said and stopped walking, scuffing his shoes loudly and turning toward Victor. “It’s too weird.”
“We just tell them...” Victor said quickly and then stopped, pressing his lips together. His hand in his pocket clenched the phone. What could he say? It was the same problem he had meeting anyone else outside of their group, even as just a friend.
“How do you explain when you disappear in the middle of the night?” Luke said quietly. “Or when you have to hang up without a goodbye? Or how you’ve bruised your face?” He reached out and brushed his fingertips across Victor’s scratched cheek.
Victor stepped back and covered the spot gingerly with his hand. “Is it bleeding?”
“It’s red. But imagine having to explain to a girlfriend.”
He was right, of course. Relationships were much harder when you were in the Academy. They’d talked at great length about things like this before. The only real chance you have at a girl understanding is if the girl is in the Academy, too. The chance of meeting one was slim, and that was assuming if that girl even liked you. “Didn’t seem a big deal six years ago, huh?”
“Six years ago, girls weren’t really on the radar,” Luke said and grinned. “But we wanted
to be spies; the good guys, remember? The part we didn’t think about being undercover spies is you can’t tell anyone about it.”
“We’re not spies,” Victor said, turning, still covering his cheek with his palm as he continued walking.
Luke fell in step beside him. “We’re better.”
Victor hoped people would think so if they ever found out.
???
Victor led Luke back to his house, and they went inside and up the grand staircase.
“Don’t tell Mr. Blackbourne I went in,” Luke said, once they were in Victor’s bedroom. Their phones were sitting on the piano bench in the center of the room. Luke picked his up to check for messages.
“We can’t keep secrets from him,” Victor said. “But I guess I don’t have to say anything if he doesn’t ask.”
“It’s not like it was a total stranger’s house,” Luke said. “Mr. Duncan wouldn’t have done anything to me if he’d caught me. He knows my face.”
Victor arched an eyebrow, his mouth opening in confusion. It took him a minute to remember that Mr. Duncan was another person within the Academy. He was middle aged, and had his own family to take care of, but retired recently, so he’d been spending more time working on Academy projects. “What? He...” he stopped, wanting to be relieved but then realizing the truth. Victor rubbed his own forehead. “I was almost relieved, but... my god. That’s not Mr. Duncan’s house.”
“Sure it is,” Luke said, lifting a blond eyebrow. He lowered his phone and pointed in the direction of the neighborhood they’d come from. “That’s his house.”
“That’s not his house,” Victor said. “I don’t know whose house that is, but it isn’t Mr. Duncan’s.”
“Oh,” Luke said and then red spread across his cheeks. He grimaced. “Whoops.”
“Whoops? Whoops? That’s all you have to say?” Victor groaned and then took a step back, sitting on his bed. After a moment, he dropped to lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Why didn’t you tell me who you thought it belonged to?”
“I don’t always know whose house I’m supposed to go in when they send me to fetch something. You need to be ready for anything.” He pocketed his phone and then winked. “Got to go.”