Chapter Text
It started with Roger.
Liam was up on the exam table. Roger had given him some drug or another, he wasn’t really sure, but he did know that the wallpaper in the room was awfully pretty.
“What did I take, again?”
“Morphine. Not much, though. We’re testing how painkillers affect you differently as a Cursed individual.” Liam nodded, kicking his feet back and forth. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions.”
“Go right ahead,” Liam smiled with his usual tenacity.
“Are you experiencing increased euphoria or reduced anxiety?”
Liam shrugged. He felt the same as usual, “Not really.”
Roger pursed his lips, scribbling for a second before pausing. “You were crying last night.”
Liam picked at his nails, feeling uncomfortable. A byproduct of living in the same house with someone who has super hearing is that nothing is private. “That’s not a question.”
“You don’t cry often, so your mental state was different coming into the test today than is typical for you.”
“What, are you worried about me? Oh, Roger, you softie, I’m fine.”
“It could impact your results. Come back tomorrow.”
Liam rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say.”
Then, it was Alfons.
Liam sneaked through the halls easily, coming in and out of visibility as he pleased. He saw Alfons and waved enthusiastically. Liam watched a grin slip onto his face and so he slinked over, bouncing on his heels.
“Aren’t you a ball of sunshine, kitten?” Alfons purred. “I apologize, but our debauchery will have to wait. I’ve got a mission.”
Liam nodded, “Mmkay, good seeing you!” As he turned to go, though, he felt a gloved hand grab him by the wrist.
“Wait, you came from Roger. What has he given that made you so excited?”
“Morphine, but he says I have to do it again tomorrow for some reason.”
“You, on morphine? I do believe using that specific drug on someone already so bright would make a circus of this castle. You’re not that excited, wouldn’t you say?”
Liam shrugged, “That’s why I have to go back.”
“Something was upsetting you.”
“Yes? Alfons, your mission.”
But he only led Liam back into the drawing room and sat them both on opposite couches. “I can let it go for now. Whatever disappointed our little kitten should be rectified.”
It was clear this was a game to him now, and Alfons had a sense for when someone was particularly wicked. Liam shivered, feeling a chill up his spine at the inquisitive eyes before him. He didn’t want to be found out. They wouldn’t let a scoundrel like him stay in Crown, someone so disgustingly depraved as he was to have the feelings he had.
Alfons could sniff him out, though. “You went on a mission yesterday. Not as exciting as you’d hoped?”
“The mission was fine.”
“We both know you’re not the liar in this Castle-“
Alfons cut himself off as Liam felt his heart pounding through his chest. His hands began sweating and he thought he would explode at a moment’s notice.
“Oh,” Alfons murmured, “William’s darling cat has a crush.”
Liam stood and began pacing the room, his hands climbing to his neck as if he was being choked. “I know it’s wrong, Al. It will pass I swear, please just give me time.”
In a flash Alfons was there, his hands on Liam’s shoulders. “I never thought you were this dense, but you do know where we are, yes?”
Liam raised his eyebrow, “What kind of question is that? Alfons-“
“We are at Crown Castle. I do believe we are all sinners here, are we not? Now, I know you were raised in the nobility, and they often dissuade you quite harshly away from these things, but you couldn’t seriously think that I would act the same. That anyone here would.”
“What does that mean?” Liam asked weakly. He was starting to feel the morphine wear off, though it wouldn’t really for hours now.
“We’ve all… dabbled. William especially. Frankly, that man shocks me sometimes.”
“So it’s not…?” His voice wavered.
“A problem? That all depends on who you ask, I do believe some church members aren’t so fond of it, but you won’t see the likes of Crown at any Sunday service, now will you?”
Liam shook his head with what little sense he had left.
“Have you… pardon me… laid with a man before?”
He shook his head vehemently.
“Well, we could fix that, there’s a brothel that caters to us of more varied preference just downtown.”
Liam took in a breath, “I don’t want… just anyone.”
Alfons looked conflicted. It felt strange to see him empathetic towards anyone, least of all Liam. “That won’t end well for you, kitten.”
He walked off (more swaggered off, if anything), leaving his words echoing in Liam’s mind.
~
The area directly behind Scala’s main stage was front to back dressing rooms. They were a bit of a tight fit, but the actors got around.
Liam glanced into his mirror again, perfecting the little makeup he had on. Mercutio, as a character, was not hard to slip into. Not for Liam, who felt such a deep connection to him. He was the comedic relief, nothing terrible was supposed to happen to him, but it did, and he begged for his life through it to no avail. It was a boy who cried wolf kind of story.
Liam wondered if his untimely death would be the same. If, when his curiosity finally caught up to him, he would lay in a puddle of his mistakes, begging for aid that would never come because of his own cheery disposition.
Liam decided to stop thinking about that.
The door to his dressing room opened, and he fought the grin that came to his face, but it won. Harry was in his dashing formal outfit, just a nicer shirt and slacks than usual, but Liam appreciated it, and was leaning against the doorway, a wicked smile on his face.
“Well aren’t you fancy,” Liam couldn’t help but tease.
“We’re supposed to dress up, it’s the theater after all.” Harry grumbled.
“We?”
Something moved behind him and out came Kate, in a dress so adorned she looked like a decorated cake in the bakery window. He was sure Victor had fun picking it out. For as willing as Liam was to cross dress, he could never fully satiate Victor’s need to outfit the members of Crown. Harry was one of the most avoidant of it, but even his outfit bore some of Victor’s unique additions. There was a little green handkerchief in his coat pocket (he loved color coordinating them all) and he was actually wearing an earring instead of letting the hole close up day after day.
“Ah, you’re so cute!”
Kate seemed shy, her cheeks heating up, “Thank you.”
Harry rolled his eyes, but Liam could tell he’d become more accustomed to her. “She came to wish you luck.”
“And you?”
“Try not to trip.” It was Harry’s equivalent.
Liam smiled and waved as a crew member shooed them to their seats.
As he came onstage he couldn’t help the way his eyes chased the audience between each delivery, searching, checking, watching for that devious little smile, the hint of teeth he forgets to turn sarcastic in the height of a performance.
And as he died pathetically, he watched with guilty glee as Harry tensed. Someone would miss him, then. It was so selfish he thought he might tell Kate so she could put it in her report for the night. Even if there was no one else mourning, Harry would come to his funeral.
And when he would walk home that night, if Harry’s hand brushed his when he got too deep into his thoughts that was no biggie. Just a simple kindness between friends.
And when he let his eyes drift off Kate when she was talking, that was only natural. Just his curiosity playing tricks on him, making him want more.
That won’t end well for you.
Yes, he could be content with things as they were.
His curse ached in his chest.