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While he cannot speak for Bison, though he seems to be having too much fun if the way he is becoming closer to that suspicious tattoo artist is any indication, this area may actually be Fadel’s favourite location; with its small homely feel and the bustling interconnectedness from small town life, it is the exact opposite of where most of their high-profile targets often stay. If it were not for that tattoo artist –“His name is Kant, Fadel!”– and his annoying friend who thinks stalking people is the way to get their romantic affection, he might have even considered making this a permanent space where he and Bison can stay on the down low between missions. If it was not for that one small detail that is always present in small towns: the inherent need to gossip about anyone and anything.
It has become a habit for Fadel to listen to the conversations around him and connect them to the overall ongoing town life. It is almost like watching a reality tv show or a sitcom, except here he is actually invested in these people’s lives. He sees them every day, whether as a customer or as a cook in Heart Burger. He may not know them very well but he knows enough to be invested.
Fadel first hears about it in the farmer’s market in the morning, not even the one he usually frequents: he is hoping the change of place will be enough to throw off that annoying mechanic, while Bison is still sleeping and the sun is beginning to wake up. The bustling place of people buying and selling also lends itself to the exchange of information, from the state of the old fruit seller’s sprained arm to whether Pim and Pa will actually go on a date to the nearby concert as a couple. The daily lives and gossip of people should be of no concern to Fadel, yet as he packs up his required daily supply of fresh tomatoes, he also packs up the information he hears, whether useful or not, into neat boxes in his mind to peruse through later.
This time the conversation is about the two brothers that run the new burger place. Fadel pretends to mind his own business as he listens in, taking extra care to pick the best vegetables from the stalls as he does so. The people do not seem to notice him. Good. This will make the reconnaissance a lot easier.
“-never seen Style being so interested in someone else like he is with the older burger boy.” Ploy hands over three jars of fruit jam to a customer as she says this.
“That is because Style does not like girls that way. I tried to set him up with my niece.” Pansa, the florist, then gave a long-suffering sigh. “We are still searching for a man for her.”
Pat the baker rolls his eyes, “You should let her find her own love instead of meddling in everyone’s business.” He sets up a tray of freshly made bread and pastries, the mouth-watering smell permeating every nook and cranny. “Besides Style is a taken man and you should respect that.”
What?
Fadel almost drops a perfect cabbage and only his finely honed instincts saved the vegetable from what would have been a dishonourable end. But he was the only one. Fadel could hear various glass containers breaking and metal vessels spilling in the silence that followed. Even the traffic stopped. And then the cacophony started.
“When did that-” “How did we not kn-” “Where did you he-” “Which man has he-” “Sattawat never told-”
Pat does not look impressed at the chaos he caused. “Why are you all acting like this? Kant and Style have been together for years now.”
This time Fadel dropped his bag, some of his goods spilling out. That tattoo artist and his friend are together? Is this whole thing a ploy to get information from Bison? But he was not the only one confused about this information.
Pansa walks to his stall and smacks him right on the back of his head, as she should. “When did that ever happen? They are just friends.”
Before Pat could reply, Pim who came to the market with Pa –“maybe Pa will actually manage to confess to Pim” “Shut up…You might be right”– lightly taps Pansa’s hand and points to the entrance of the market. Fadel’s eyes, along with everyone else’s, follow to where she points and sees the tattoo artist walking to the market holding a number of cloth shopping bags.
People start picking up the fallen containers and helping clean up as much as they can, Fadel dutifully doing his part as well, all while acting like they were not arguing with each up until the last minute, not unlike an unruly class when the strict teacher arrives.
Kant does not seem to pick up on the weird atmosphere and makes a beeline for the stall selling honey and bee products and greets Beer the beekeeper, who returns the greeting and ignores Pansa’s interpretative dance sequence behind Kant.
“It’s weird not seeing your other half. Where is Style?” The older man asks good naturedly, while packing extra honey despite Kant’s requests otherwise.
Kant gives a bashful smile. “He and Babe are asleep but Style will be making breakfast today.”
Beer smiles at that. “I figured. You do not like honey.”
“But Babe does.” While Kant sounds affronted, the smile in his voice speaks otherwise. Kant is holding a long piece of paper.
Beer takes the piece of paper from Kant’s hands. “I don’t think Babe would specifically ask for lychee flower honey” Beer laughs at the sight of Kant shrugging in agreement and returns the paper back. “Are you doing Style’s groceries as well?”
Kant nods. “If I don’t, the auto shop will not open today. Style was very specific about everything on the list. If anything is wrong, I will not be eating breakfast.” Kant jokingly rolls his eyes about it while Fadel actually rolls his eyes at the fact that he is listening to such a dumb conversation.
(“Sir you are squeezing the fruit.”
“I’m sorry. Yes, I will be buying it.”)
“Is there anything special about lychee flower honey? He was very specific about it.” Fadel looks at the glass lychee honey container Kant was pointing at. The honey in it looks like the usual kind of honey that one would get anywhere that sells honey, nothing special about it.
“Why don’t you see for yourself.” Beer opens the container in front of Kant’s face and Kant takes in an audible breath.
“It smells like flowers.” Kant looks confused.
Beer laughs. “It does, doesn’t it? It actually tastes a lot like lychee fruit. Perfect for someone who likes it, don't you think?”
Kant takes the container and gives it a small smile before putting it and the smaller bottle of honey in a bag and then paying Beer.
Fadel, on his part, does not miss Kant’s quickly fading blush and puts the information in a box aptly labelled ‘Kant’. He might even use this information to make Bison actually do his part of the chores. Deep in his thoughts, Fadel almost misses Beer’s next question.
“What is Style planning to make this time? He wouldn’t ask for specific honey otherwise." Beer sounds curious, and despite himself so does Fadel. And the rest of the market by the looks of it.
Kant visibly lights up. “Babe’s school is doing their annual food sale and his grade is handling desserts. Babe and Knot have been given honey as their theme so Style has been taking over the kitchen lately.” Kant sounds very happy about this food sale and his grin is infectious, seeing how everyone around Fadel is smiling as well. Kant says his goodbyes to the beekeeper and walks to the fruit seller. Fadel goes to the opposite stall and starts browsing.
Style can cook. Fadel takes that information, turns it around and does not dwell on it as he puts it in the box labelled ‘Style’ along with: annoying, nymphomaniac, irritating and persistent, annoyingly so.
“So, was he baking all night?” Ploy jokingly asks, but anyone could hear the undercurrent of genuine curiosity in her voice.
“Nah, He woke me up, told me to get ingredients at 4 A.M. and then went back to sleep.” Kant punctuates this with a muffled yawn. Fadel checks his watch. It's now 7 A.M. He should be leaving soon if he wants to complete his jogging on time. “Babe is having his physics test today so Style was revising with him the whole night.”
Ploy keeps up the small talk. “His exams will start soon then.”
Kant nods. “The main exams will happen next month.”
Fadel thinks back to when he used to help Bison with his homework in the hopes that even if he became a killer, Bison would not have to live such a life. You may not get what you always want but you should make the best with what you get. At least they both still have each other.
“How are Babe’s studies going?”
“We have a game plan,” Kant says with the seriousness of an assassin with a mark, Fadel would know. “I take over the social sciences and biology, Style takes care of physics and chemistry and Babe teaches us math and English.” Kant hands over his bag of fruit to Ploy who starts to total it up.
“That will be 104 baht. Isn’t physics just applied math?” Ploy raises an eyebrow as she hands the bag of fruit to Kant who exchanges it for the given money.
“That’s what I said!” Kant sounds vindicated at someone agreeing with him, Fadel absentmindedly notes this. “Style says that it is not the same and that ‘physics and maths are completely different from each other Kant’ but it cannot be that different, if both have numbers and letters together, right?”
Pim, who was buying fruit next to Kant, shakes her head. “No Phi, it really isn’t.”
Kant deflates and Fadel has to smother a laugh.
Style is smart? Fadel cannot say that he saw that coming, but being a mechanic does mean he must not be a complete idiot, despite how bimbo-like he seems, with his airhead attitude, disregard of people’s boundaries, and a body with a face that you cannot help but want to touch.
(A look of amusement. “You have been looking for a while, boy. Is there any cheese you actually want to buy?”
The head turns in shock. “Y-yes. 2 blocks of Monterey Jack.” A considering look. “Ma’am is this homemade?”
“Of course. I have been making cheese longer than you have been alive. Now are you going to buy the cheese or are you just here to look at the tattoo boy?”
Cheeks redden in embarrassment. “I will buy the cheese ma’am.”
“Good.” An exchange of goods and cash. Kant went to the vegetable stalls.”
A stumble of feet. “Thank you, ma’am.” Hearty laughter follows his steps.)
Kant buys carrots, onions and bok choy. The shopkeeper looks as confused as Fadel is.
“I’m just buying what the list says.” Kant raises his hands defensively.
The shopkeeper chuckles. “Tell the boy to check on my van. It’s been acting up lately and I can’t go to the weekend market if it keeps on being like this. 360 baht.”
“The market in the city, right? Style will swing by in the late afternoon, at most around 3:50. He’ll be done with his usual appointments by then.” Kant picks up his vegetables after giving the money. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”
As soon as Kant is out of sight, Fadel notes that he drives what seems to be a vintage car, the market explodes to its earlier conversation. Saying that it is the ‘market’ is a bit exaggerated as it is Pansa and Pat who are arguing while the rest just observe and give the occasional opinion.
The time is 7:30 A.M. Fadel should put his bags in the shop before going jogging. Whether the tattoo bastard that is flirting with his brother is actually with his annoying friend should be of no concern to him. Why is he still here?
“They do each other’s groceries.” Pat stands firm on his stance and Fadel cannot blame him. From the easy way that Kant regards Style in his house to the way he knows when the other will be free, and how it is common for Style to cook for Kant in his house and why does Fade even care about this so much, the evidence is damning.
“They have grown up together. They take care of Babe together. Buying things on the other’s grocery list is not that big of a deal.” Fadel is not really sure what side Pansa is on at his point, and neither is everyone else who is listening.
Do they raise Babe together like how Fadel raised Bison, or is that an exaggeration on Pansa’s part?
Fadel sighs. Even when not physically present, Style manages to derail his day.
Pa turns to Pim, “Is Pansa auntie lying?” Fadel turns his attention to the two women. –” It is not eavesdropping Bison, it is tactical information gathering! Why are you laughing?” “Nothing, Fadel!”–
For a while Pim is silent in thought, moving her fingers in patterns on Pa’s hand. “When P’Kant was arrested, Nong Babe was staying with P’Style and then when P’Style got admitted to the hospital the tattoo shop was closed because P’Kant would not leave the hospital room until he was forced to.” Pim now sways their conjoined hands to and fro. “So, it really depends on what you think a couple should be doing for as opposed to what good friends would do for each other.”
Pa clutches both of Pim’s hands in hers. “If you think P’Kant and P’Style are just friends then what are we?” She sounds almost distressed.
Pim looks at Pa like she has grown a second head. “We are also friends. Isn’t that why we are going to the concert together? You invited me because you got those tickets for free.”
Pa looks like she either wants to slam Pim’s head against the nearest wall or start crying. Those concert tickets must have cost a fortune. Pim, for her part, looks confused at Pa’s reaction and Fadel sends a silent prayer for Pa’s sanity.
As he walks back, Fadel looks at the information he acquired today and decides that he should look into this more before talking about it to Bison.
Instead looking into the situation more, Fadel ends up telling Bison about what he had witnessed in the farmer’s market earlier that day. As much as Fadel wanted to do more research to get a clearer idea of what exactly they would be dealing with, especially knowing how emotionally impulsive his brother is, Bison’s growing closeness with the tattoo artist would actually be more efficient in gathering precise information than listening to unfounded rumour and gossip.
The more Fadel tells Bison, the more Bison looks like he wants to kill someone. If he does end up killing either Kant or Style or both of them, Fadel would not be upset at it and would definitely do his part to erase all suspicion from them. But with Kant and Style having irreplaceable positions in the community, Fadel cannot be sure if they will be mobbed out of the area and that would be very detrimental to their mission.
However, it seems that Fadel does not need to do anything as Bison has calmed down by himself and has started questioning the validity of Fadel’s concerns. Where Fadel bases his judgements on logic and facts, Bison lends himself to the sway of emotions, which often puts him at a disadvantage in their work, but in this case it will be helpful. Fadel knows when to concede in things he cannot solve by himself.
“I don’t think they are together like that Fadel,” Bison wipes down the counters in repeated circular motions, “Style told me that Kant has never liked someone the way he likes me.” Bison sounds over the moon at this. Fadel would not be opposed to the moon crashing into Thailand and obliterating them right now.
“He could be lying.” Fadel logically points out.
Bison actually pauses to think about this. “He does not seem like the type.” The bell rings and Fadel turns around to talk to the customer.
“I’m sorry, but we’re actually-”. Style in his crop top and cocky smile waves at him and Fadel feels his blood pressure rise. “Closed. And we will be, for the whole night.”
“I just came to say hi,” Style ignores the hostility radiating from Fadel. “I missed you, you know. I didn’t see you the whole day.” Fadel almost breaks the broom in anger, but Bison’s hand on his shoulder steadies him.
“We can just ask Style now that he is here.” Bison whispers to Fadel before greeting Style with a bright smile. Fadel does not think that it would actually work.
“Me and Kant are just friends, so don’t worry about it.” Style earnestly puts his hand on Bison’s shoulder in a comforting manner. Fadel cannot believe that it is working. Bison is really good at acting as the insecure boyfriend. “We are close, but that’s it. Kant is really crazy about you.”
Bison’s eyes shine, like a thief encountering a prized jewel. “Really?” At Style’s encouraging nod, Bison casts his eyes downward and starts to pick on his fingernails, slightly shifting around where he is sitting on the table. “But he has had many exes right? How am I different from any of them?” He looks back up at Style, vulnerability in his eyes, hoping for answers.
Bison’s admittedly good acting(?) skills aside, Fadel cannot help but think that Style is, in fact, a very gullible person. If Kant is manipulating Style, the latter would not be aware of it. He adds Gullible into Style’s box and pushes it in the back of his mind.
Style lightly drums his fingers on the table. “To be honest, I don’t know what makes you different.” Style tells Bison, who looks at the former with genuine curiosity, putting aside the role of the insecure partner. “But I know Kant, and I know how he acts,” Style tilts his head thoughtfully. “And with you, he’s been really genuine, you have him wrapped around your little finger.” He adds with a bright smile.
Fadel takes a sharp breath. Style smiles widely and it is the sunrise, with its beauty and warmth. He wants to bask in it forever. Fadel pulls out the Style Box from the back of his mind and puts this new information in it. He sees Gullible at the top and gently puts Radiant Smile on top. He closes the box and does not push it away.
Bison gives a small genuine smile at this. His cheeks are red and he is bashfully scribbling nonsense patterns with a pencil that a customer left behind on the table. Fadel narrows his eyes. Bison will definitely be cleaning that up later.
Style gets up and stretches his arms. Fadel’s eyes unconsciously drop to his stomach, before the crop top covers it up again. He pats Bison on the shoulder and goes to leave. “Well, I just came over to say hi,” He winks at Bison. “I won’t tell Kant about this.” Bison nods while Fadel stares at Style unblinkingly.
Fadel puts Winks Cutely in the Style Box without pausing to think if the knowledge of this information is actually necessary. The Style Box does not judge him.
As Style turns to leave, his phone rings. He picks it up, puts the phone near his ear and waves with his free hand. Bison waves back and Fadel goes back to cleaning. Style stands right outside Heart Burger, if one is quiet enough, conversations can be heard. Bison and Fadel, simultaneously decrease the speed of doing the chores.
“Yeah, Kant?” Style’s voice is faint inside the shop. All work ceases. His voice is now a little louder.
“I left my jacket back there?” Style sways on the balls of his feet. “No, I can just pick it up from you tomorrow. Unless you’re coming to the garage.” He tilts his head, “Besides you also left your clothes with me.”
Style pauses. “Really. Three of your shirts, there could be more.”
He scratches the back of his head. “I’m sure I’ve left a drawer’s worth of clothes at yours.”
Style now looks indignant. “You stay here half the time! Of course, I have more than a drawer’s worth.”
He stomps his foot. “Crop tops are not that small.” There is a lull in the conversation.
“Did you eat? You should.” Style unconsciously nods. “Yeah. I just left Heart Burger. I did not see Fadel so I wanted to see him.”
Style rolls his eyes. “Bison was there too and we were talking about you.”
He tilts his head. “Of course, I won’t tell you and don’t go around asking Bison about it either. It’s the bro code, you know” Style starts to walk away. “See you tomorrow. Good night to Babe as well.”
Silence.
A pencil snaps.
Fadel looks at Bison who slams the broken pencil onto the table. He looks livid. Fadel feels jealous livid.
“We should get our information from the source.” Bison’s voice sounds strained.
Fadel is confused. “You mean Kant?”
Bison looks at Fadel like he did when Fadel told a mark that his favourite music is rap. “No, I meant Babe.” Bison leaves the table and walks away.
There is that name again. It has been bugging Fadel all day and now it's irritating him. Who even is Babe? Fadel goes to ask Bison about his person but finds his face shoved into a thermal take-out bag. When did they buy this? He looks at Bison who does not look guilty of using diner funds behind his back.
“Fadel, make some burgers.” Bison sounds insistent. “I’m going to be making a home delivery.”
For once, Fadel does not complain about opening the kitchen after hours and Bison does not complain to Fadel about being asked to do something vaguely shady to people he has grown attached to. Sometimes miracles do happen.
Babe is both surprised to see Bison at the front door with what appears to be takeout from Heart Burger and is also not surprised at all. Phi did say that he will be out late so asking P’Bison to deliver takeout is not out of the realm of possibility.
“Hi, Babe,” P’Bison greets cheerfully. “Can I come in”? He holds out the take-out bag like a peace offering.
Babe nods and lets P’Bison in. Just as Babe closes the front door, P’Bison removes his shoes and puts the take-out bag on the table. He then pulls out a cheeseburger and a box of fries and puts them on the table.
Babe’s stomach growls at the sight and P’Bison laughs. “Come and eat. Kant told me you have not eaten yet so I got something for you.”
Babe nods and sits at the table. He takes a bite of the cheeseburger and it is the best burger he has ever eaten, with how nicely the cheese melts into the rest of the burger, and how soft and crispy the buns are. He is sad when the burger is over. P’Bison smiles and hands him the box of French fries. He seems content with watching Babe eat.
“Babe, I have something to ask you.” P’Bison sounds serious. Babe stops eating and gives P’Bison his full attention. “Were Kant and Style,” P’Bison takes a deep breath to steady himself before continuing “Dating or together like that?” P’Bison puts his hands on his lap. Babe has never seen him so worried.
Babe chews on a french fry as he formulates a response that would actually make sense out loud. P’Kant and P’Style’s friendship is confusing to people who do not know them that well, and even if they do, people often jump into conclusions that neither P’Kant nor P’Style would care enough to correct them about.
Babe should treat this with the care it deserves.
“Do you know The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare?” Whatever Bison was expecting Babe to say, it definitely was not that.
“No, is it a play?” Babe nods enthusiastically.
“This play is about this guy Bassanio who is in love with this woman called Portia and wants to marry her, but in order to marry her he needs a loan. So Bassanio and his friend Antonio get a loan from a moneylender called Shylock and Antonio’s name is put in the contract. Shylock does not like Antonio and stipulates that a part of the contract should be that if they fail to repay the loan Shylock will be entitled to a pound of Antonio’s flesh.”
Bison finds himself intrigued by the story. “How much is a pound in kilograms?”
“Um,” Babe takes the calculator lying on the table and punches in numbers. “Around 450 grams.”
“That’s cool.” Bison thinks about cutting 450 grams of flesh from someone, he would definitely cut from the thigh but he’s not picky. He sees Babe waiting for his signal. “You can continue.” Babe nods.
“Antonio agrees to the terms despite Bassanio warning him not to. They then go to Belmont, where Bassanio solves Portia’s father’s riddle and they both can get married. But before they can, they get news that Antonio’s ships have gotten destroyed at sea and that he cannot pay back Shylock. Everybody goes back to Venice to try and resolve the issue. Shylock is insistent on following the terms and conditions of the contract and they take the case to court.”
Bison eats a fry and nods, wanting to know what is next. The lightbulb above them flickers erratically, interrupting Babe, before dying in a flourish.
Bison goes to put the flashlight on his phone as Babe leaves. Just as he goes to stand on the table to check the bulb, he is blinded by a bright white light.
“Why are you on the table, P’Bison?” Babe shines the flashlight onto the bulb, saving Bison from imminent blindness.
“If you have extra light bulbs, I can change them right now.” Now that the bulb is not as hot, Bison goes to unscrew it.
“Yeah, I’ll go and get it, P’Bison.” Bison hears Babe’s feet shuffle away and takes a solitary breath in. He holds it for five seconds before slowly breathing out. He takes the small, disk-like spycam from his pocket that Fadel gave him and attaches it near the ceiling bulb holder, in a way that the video will not be affected by the light of the bulb. He is not confident about the audio.
He hears soft footsteps become louder and finishes unscrewing the bulb. Babe hands him an LED, and Bison breaths in a sigh of relief. LEDs do not make sound. He screws in the bulb until it is secure.
Bison can’t bring himself to feel guilt over this. He can see Kant go about his normal, daily life right from his screen. Bison likes the thought of having Kant in his sights in an easily accessible way.
He steps down the table.
“And then?”
“Portia disguises herself as a man and appears in court as a legal expert. She reads the contract and says that Shylock can have the one pound of flesh.”
“Does she want him dead?”
“The story is not over P’Bison.”
“What happens next then?” Bison feels like a child, listening to Fadel as he makes up a story when Bison insisted on having one before bed.
“She says that Shylock can have that one pound of flesh as long as he can do it without Antonio bleeding as the contract did not mention him being entitled to Antonio’s blood and only his flesh. In the end, Shylock loses half of his property as a fine to the state. Portia reveals her identity and Antonio’s ships come safely.”’
Bison applauds and Babe gives a shy but happy bow. “That was a great story,” Babe beams and continues eating his fries. “But what does it have to do with my question?”
Babe stops eating, remembering why he bought up the story in the first place. “If I have to compare P’Kant and P’Style, they remind me of Bassanio and Antonio.”
Bison slowly nods, deep in thought. Antonio and Bassanio were very close, with how Antonio put his name in Bassanio’s contract despite the terms of it. Kant and Style must be very close and trust each other for Babe to compare them like that.
“P'Bison, did I answer your question?” Babe’s voice broke Bison from his thoughts.
Bison smiles. “Yes, you did. Thank you, Babe.” He looks at his phone and it is 11:37 P.M. He looks at Babe who just finished his fries. “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”
“No, the Minister of Education just passed away.” Babe says while cleaning up the table.
Bison blinks. “When did that happen?”
“Around 2 hours ago, I think. So, all educational institutions will be closed in mourning.”
Huh. “Who was the education minister?”
Babe shrugs. “I can look it up if you like P’Bison.”
“No need, I was just asking. It's late and I have to go home.” Bison gestures to the thermal take-out bag. “The bag also has food for Kant.”
“Thank you P’Bison.” Babe, ever the dutiful host, walks Bison to the front door. “Good night and travel safely P’Bison.”
Bison grins at Babe’s endearing politeness. Kant has raised a good person. “Good night, Babe. Sleep well.”
Bison goes home, with a skip in his step.
Fadel is only waiting for Bison to come back because he needs to know if Bison succeeded in bugging Kant’s house, the confirmation about Kant and Style’s relationship does not matter to him at all. If anything, it would be their problem if a taken man is cheating on his partner with the first attractive man he sees. Fadel will not degrade himself to be someone’s side piece, no matter how attractive the one offering may be.
Bison opens the door with a wide grin. Fadel has not seen him smile this much since they got here. Maybe Kant might be good for-
“Did you do it?”
“Yep,” Bison sounds cheerfully energetic for someone who just arrived home at midnight. “The live feed should be up by now.” Bison almost walks away before Fadel stops him.
“Shoes.” Bison looks down, shoes on his feet, and walks back to take them off. He then makes it three steps before Fadel stops him again.
“Yes Fadel?”
Fadel goes to say something, before shutting himself up. He starts again. “Bring the laptop.”
Bison is definitely sure that was not what Fadel wanted to say. But he plays along for now. “Sure thing.”
Fadel sits like a statue for the duration that Bison is gone for, barely moving, only breaking it when Bison arrives with the laptop. He patiently waits for the feed to load. Because he wanted both acceptable video and audio quality, compromises had to be made, but overall, the quality is not bad.
“Babe, where are you?” Kant enters the house, looking exhausted.
“I’m here Phi.” Babe places a reheated cheeseburger and a smaller plate of French fries on the table. “P’Bison dropped some food for you.”
“He did?” Kant’s smile looks less tired now. “Style must have told him that I had not eaten.” He looks at Babe worriedly, “Did you eat? I’m so sorry I came back late. Things just popped up and-”
“It's okay Phi,” Babe smiles understandingly. “P’Bison got me something to eat as well.” He pauses. “P’Style told him? But P’Bison said that you told him.”
Next to Fadel, Bison tenses up. Fadel looks back at the screen, curious despite himself. How would Kant take this? Would he be suspicious of Bison or would he let his dick
Kant shrugs, puts his coat on the designated hook on the door, and walks to the dining table. “Me, Style. Same thing. He probably just simplified the events. Did he stay for a while?”
Babe shakes his head. “No, Phi. He stayed until I finished eating and went back.”
Kant gestures to Babe to sit on the chair as he does so himself. “That’s good. Well, I was planning on buying takeout once I was here but this is good too.” He takes a bite of the burger and Bison could not help but smile as he watches the way Kant devours the burger, just like his brother.
Fadel closes the laptop, satisfied that Kant did not suspect Bison. The two brothers sit in silence, one patient and one impatient.
“Do you have anything to say?” Fadel sounds impassive but Bison knows better.
“No.” He does not even try to hide the smile in his voice. Fadel rolls his eyes.
Silence reigns once more for fifteen minutes before it is overthrown by Fadel’s voice.
“What did Babe tell you?” Fadel does not move his face but his eyes shift towards Bison, acknowledging his defeat. Bison does a mental fist pump.
Fadel: 7 Bison: 6
“He said Kant and Style are best friends. Like Bassanio and Antonio.” It feels good to finally solve this issue, and it did not even take them a whole day! One of their more successful missions, Bison places it high up on their missions list, second to the time they framed a wealthy CEO for a series of familicides before killing him and framing that as a suicide. One of their best works to be honest.
“Who are those guys?” Oh right. Unlike Bison, Fadel does not know Shakespeare. Bison is more than happy to educate him.
“They are the main characters in The Merchant of Venice. Bassanio’s future wife saves Antonio from bodily harm that was part of the contract that Antonio signed to get money for Bassanio to marry her.” Bison says proudly, oblivious to the way Fadel visibly blue screens to try and compute the information given to him.
Fadel decides looking it up would simplify things. It does not.
“Are you sure they are just friends?” Fadel’s voice knocks on Bison’s haze of joy.
Bison nods energetically. “Just being friendly.” He ideally thinks about searching up if there are tickets still available for the Tilly Birds concert happening next week. As a treat for himself. Fadel can go to a metal concert if he wants to.
“The internet does not seem to think so.”
The haze breaks. Bison snatches Fadel’s phone and skims through all the information. There are many queries about Bassanio and Antonio’s relationship, from Reddit and Quora, to even articles about their portrayal in a movie adapta- Did they kiss?!?
“What?!”