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Two young men stand side by side. They look similar; brown and blond hair that both fall forward into curls. The former stands tall and aware; his muddy eyes suspicious. The latter man, more of a teen than anything, holds a whirlwind of emotions in his eyes; guilt and worry, but hope, too.
The taller, brown-haired man nudges the teen. It startles him and he looks at the other man. The taller chuckles. “Be subtle when you look, but see him near the stage?” The blond, knowing no subtlety when he’s not in the field, whips his head towards the stage. Blond curls fall into his face at the movement, his cerulean eyes widening at the man in a sharp black suit, standing tall with arrogance and power.
“He’s here!” The teen whispers nervously, turning back to the other.
“Yeah, he is. That's exactly why I planned it for tonight.” The taller says, and they both fall into silence.
The blond stares with a wistful look back at the stage, before a reflection of light catches his eye. A waiter passes by, with a tray full of champagne - Alcohol, all for the taking! Light shimmering from the rounded glasses and bubbly liquid, like stars in the dimmed room. The teen reaches out his hand to grab a glass. Brown eyes dart towards the movement and playfully smacks the hand down. The teen protests, blue eyes glaring through the dim light as the waiter walks away, the chance missed.
“No, I don’t care about the rules and age minimums here. You aren’t old enough, Tommy.”
The blond makes grabby hands towards where the waiter disappeared. “Just a sip? Come on, Wilbur.” The older one, holding back a smile, shakes his head and sighs, but does not relent. Instead, his face sobers up.
Wilbur comes closer and swings his arm over the teen’s shoulder to inconspicuously whisper in his ear, “Did you bring it?” The teasing mood dims with the words, yet Tommy pretends not to know what he means.
“What?”
“You know. It.” The taller pushes, glancing at the boy when he answers with silence. “You did bring it, did you? You didn’t forget-”
“Geez!” Tommy lifts his hands up in frustration, pushing Wilbur’s arm off him, “I brought it Wil. I didn’t forget.”
“Lower your voice,” Wilbur harshly whispers. “I made you bring it instead of me for a reason. You don’t want to compromise us, do you?”
“No, I’m sorry.” The teen shifts, looking at the crowd of guests. It seemed like no one was eavesdropping, but in their business, you could never know. Guests held glasses of champagne - waiters weaving through a tipsy crowd holding trays of drinks and appetizers - cordial chit-chat heard murmuring in the air. Guards stood at every entrance, and the main event; the president, standing tall and stiff near the stage, occasionally conversing with a passing guest, however overall, watching the congregation with shaded eyes. It sent shivers down Tommy’s spine.
Wilbur glanced at the boy in his silence and followed his gaze. “Ah. Come on.” He said, pulling the teen parallel of the stage, mingling into more guests, away from prying eyes. “Nervous?”
“No.” Tommy denied, then dropped his shoulders and leaned into the older. “Well, maybe just a little.”
“Don’t worry, I am too,” The brunet assured. “It’s normal, given what we’re to do.” After no reply, Wilbur leaned into Tommy’s ear. “And now? Are you ready?”
“I..” the teen exhaled, letting out some tension. “I suppose so. I just don’t know why.”
“Why.. what? That you’re ready? You don’t have to do this, I can do this alone I just thought-”
“No, no no I just don’t understand why we’re doing this!” Tommy interrupted loudly, then quieted his voice into a whisper again. “Why we are bringing this evidence to light.”
Wilbur paused, his feet skidding against the ground. He turned to face the teen properly, a confused and betrayed expression on his face. “To get away- to be free!”
“And if we get caught? What about freedom then?!” Tommy hissed, trying, and failing, to keep his voice low in his desperation.
“Quiet! You are going to compromise the mission!”
“Well, you’re going to compromise our lives! Shouldn’t I worry about that?”
“What, you don’t want our lives to change? You don’t want to leave this place? This hellhole?!”
“Now who’s being quiet.” Tommy snarked back, unwilling to back down nor answer the question.
Wilbur stared at the teen, still fuming with anger, but simmering down. “Everyone knows I don’t like this place. It doesn’t matter. In fact, no one really likes this place.
“Look, Wilbur. I don’t think it’s the greatest place either. I just think-”
“Wilbur isn’t my name.”
Tommy blinked, surprised at this confession, processing the words. “What?”
“It’s not my name,” He blurted, shifting from one foot onto another, looking around at the guests who were all immersed in their own conversations. “They gave it to me. A ‘fresh start’, as they put it.”
“A fresh start,” Tommy repeated, mulling over the words. “They told me- they told me that I’d be nothing without them. That I am.. nothing, without them.
Wilbur took a step toward the teen, looking like he wanted to reach out to hold him, yet hesitating. Softly, he replied, “You aren’t nothing.”
“They gave me the name Tommy, too.”
“I don’t think anyone here goes by their given name.”
“I never had a name, before Tommy. Before them.” Tommy continued, desperate to get the information off his chest. “Not that I remember much, or had much from before. They really gave me a fresh start.”
“I think we should get a true fresh start. Go by any name we choose-” The two began to talk at once, overlapping as they both desperately tried to get their words in; Wilbur, at convincing Tommy and Tommy to be understood.
“I was only a kid when they took me in-”
“Go anywhere we want-”
“I never had a place to stay, to call home-”
“We can choose who we trust. We can always stick together-”
“Never had a family, not before, and not with them here.”
“You can choose your family now.” Wilbur ensured. Tommy looked up at him, eyes almost watering. “With.. me?”
“With you,” Tommy repeated, thinking about it. A smile grew on his face, and he looked back at Wilbur. “I think I’d like that.”
Wilbur threw his arm over Tommy’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug, and tousled his hair.
“We’re like brothers, Wil.”
“Don’t say that, I will cry.”
“Cry, bitch.” Tommy replied with tears in his own eyes. “I did bring it, y'know.”
“Hm?”
“The evidence.” The blond whispers, patting his suit jacket. “I have it.”
Wilbur smiles at him. “And you’re ready?”
“I am if you are.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“Ha! Let's crack this thing wide open! Let everyone know!” Tommy said, bouncing around the older.
“Shut up, gremlin. You’re going to get us caught.” Wilbur warned fondly. He turned towards the stage and began to head towards the stage, Tommy bounding after him.
“Maybe I’ll change my name to the Biggest Man,” Tommy wondered aloud. “It’s fitting.” Wilbur stops in his path and bursts into laughter, Tommy looking at him offendedly before breaking into a smile and scoffing, walking towards the stage with Wilbur.