The day went by painfully slow. Arthur hadn't called me yet, not that I had been glooming around all day, waiting for him to do so. I didn't, I just dragged myself around and checked the mini-fridge every two hours.

Tony came by a bit later that evening, saying he was absolutely bored, and we should go out somewhere since we were in Tokyo. I said no, and he called me boring.

"Did Arthur call you?" I asked, and he rolled his eyes.

"I think you need to chill. All you can talk about is King."

"That's not true." That was probably totally true.

"Let's go eat something," he said. "You can stop fussing over the mighty Arthur King, who's probably sleeping or whatever rich people do, and we can have something that doesn't come out of the microwave."

"I don't want to drink," I told him.

"No, no drinks. We have a big day tomorrow, remember? The guy with the egg?"

"How could I forget. Well… I could eat… I mean, yeah, sure."

Tony smiled and damn it; he had such a beautiful smile. It was sometimes snarky, sometimes ironic, sometimes happy, but it was always in tune with his emotions. I found it a bit refreshing to be around someone who was, by all definitions of the word, an asshole, but at least I knew what went through his head without second-guessing every little twitch of the eyebrow. Maybe he was right, and I had to calm down and stop thinking about Arthur all the time. He was busy, I knew for a fact that he was working, not just fucking around on a private jet all day.

"Great. We can go wherever we want because…"

"Arthur's paying, yeah," I said.

Tony went to his room to get ready. I took a shower, shaved, and did my hair. I picked out my clothes with a bit more care than usual. Arthur had managed to rub off on me. I figured I could text him, nothing wrong with that… But I didn't, because I told myself I was going to be "chill".

There was nothing chill about liking someone who could DIE because they didn't take their medicine. Or maybe he did, and I never saw him. But then again, he did end up in the hospital.

Whatever he was a grown man. I was going to be "chill".

Tony returned, and I decided I liked him in black t-shirts. He had a leather jacket with him, but nobody looks terrible in a leather jacket, so that didn't ruin my image of him. 

"Well, aren't you fancy," he said and dropped on the bed.

"Too much?" I asked.

"No. Remember who I work for."

I laughed; nobody could outdress Arthur King.  Are you ready to head out?"

Tony nodded and got up. I didn't ask where we were going because Tony looked like he had a pretty solid idea of the location we wear headed towards, and frankly, I didn't care. 

He told me later the restaurant was a suggestion from Arthur, figures.

I had an obscene amount of sushi and didn't get sick, and Tony didn't get drunk. It was great, mainly for me, because I wasn't in the mood to take care of a drunk, tattooed man, throwing up in the middle of the street.

I didn't even mention Arthur, or thought of him, up until Tony answered the phone and said, very calmly: "hey boss."

"No, everything is great, we're at dinner." Pause. "It's NOT a date."

I leaned over the table a little, and I probably stared a bit too much.

"Yeah, he's here, glaring at me like a psycho." He paused again and laughed. "Sure, I'll keep you posted." He stretched his arm to me and handed me the phone. I did my best not to snatch it out of his hand. I was not THAT eager.

"Hello."

"Hey, babe." Arthur's voice went straight to my groin. "Is everything alright over there?"

"Yeah, great," I said. "How are you?"

"I'm fantastic," he said, sounding convinced that he was doing great. Like a politician who promised bigger salaries. He was lying through his teeth. 

"Sure?" I asked.

"Absolutely." He yawned, and the music in the background was suddenly a bit louder. "I'm on my way to see a man about a dog. Or was it a horse? I'm fairly sure it was a horse. Anyway, how's Tokyo?"

"Ugh… it's nice." I managed to say. "You sound a bit tired."

"You're a darling," he said. "But please don't worry about me, I'm just sorting out the family business."

"Arthur…"

"When you come back, I'll pick you up from the airport, alright? We'll just stay in and order something, watch Netflix, and chill. How does that sound?"

"Great." I smiled stupidly, and Tony smiled too, but it wasn't an "aww" kind of smile. He was about to mock the hell out of me.

"I have to go now, but I'll check in on you soon. Take care of Tony for me, alright? And please don't break my egg."

"You don't need to worry about that," I said.

"Alright, take care, babe."

"You too…"

I gave the phone back to Tony, who was still grinning. I was hoping he wasn't going to make any shitty remarks. I was already doing my best to hide the fact that I got an evident reaction to Arthur's voice.

Tony had other thoughts.

"Oh, I'm not obsessed with him." He mocked me in a high-pitched voice while cupping his face. "Yeah, right. You're a teenage girl trapped in the body of a grown man."

"I'm not," I said. "I'm just worried because ugh… he has diabetes."

"Yeah, so? He's been diabetic his whole life, you fussing over him like a concerned wife won't change anything." I opened my mouth to talk, but before I got the chance to say anything, he raised his hand. "And if you're going to bring the whole hospital thing into the equation, that's because he drank."

"What?"

"Alcohol, stupid," he said. "Too much alcohol.

"Oh, stupid me, I thought it was apple juice." I made a point out of rolling my eyes. "You should learn what rhetoric questions are." 

"You should stop being an obsessive fanboy." 

I didn't know much about diabetes besides the fact that there were special sweets for people who had that condition at the supermarket. I felt ignorant, mainly because it was about Arthur. Later that evening, I read some articles online and found out that Arthur had type one diabetes and that alcohol could send him into a diabetic shock. Great. And the idiot liked to drink; we met in a bad for Christ's sake.

"Just calm down," Tony said. For once, he didn't sound like he was picking on me anymore. "He's fine. That was a one-time thing."

"I'm perfectly calm," I said. Tony snorted and shook his head.

"Sure, you are, bub."

Tony paid our meal with Arthur's card, and we went back to our hotel room. I took another shower before getting in bed, yet I couldn't fall asleep. I wasn't agitated about the egg, or the random guy we were going to hustle out of it. I was thinking about Arthur, and I wasn't even simply thinking about him. It was full-on, not suitable for work content that I was probably going to be ashamed of tomorrow.

I thought about Tony, who was just next door, then I mentally slapped myself. I had some issues, some very uncomfortable issues, but I wasn't desperate. Well, maybe I was, but I wasn't going to barge into Tony's room just for sex. Right? Right. Of course, I wasn't. Tony was hot, and he had tattoos and nice arms and everything, but no. Absolutely not!

There was another feeling that hunted me and that I pushed back as much as I could. It was horrible, and it ate away at me from the inside, like a horror movie parasite. I missed Arthur. I missed him terribly.

Nothing beats admitting to yourself that you're in love with an eccentric millionaire – or billionaire, who knows – more than having a raging hard-on at three in the morning while contemplating if it's worth it to ask for pity sex from your co-worker – slash – partner in crime. Fuck. My life was a complete and utter mess. 

I decided it was a good idea to call Arthur. Obviously, why not? I wasn't expecting him to answer, but to my surprise, he did. His voice was a bit groggy, rough like he had been asleep. It was absolutely a turn on for me. 

I imagined the way he looked in the morning, with his terrible bed hair and his black circles, and nothing could beat that, especially because he was very much naked in my head. It didn't cross my mind that Arthur was probably taking a short afternoon nap after many sleepless nights, and I was disturbing him. It wasn't that I didn't care. It just happened that I was more preoccupied with other things. 

"Arthur?" 

"Hey, Tristan." He cleared his throat. "Is everything alright?" 

"I miss you," I told him and meant it. The fact that my hand was around my groin area had nothing to do with it. 

"Hey, I miss you too, babe," he said. "But shouldn't you be sleeping? What time is there? Like... four in the morning?" 

"Three," I told him. "I can't sleep. Sorry for bothering you... you were sleeping, right?" 

"Yeah. I fell asleep on the couch... and apparently, Sex and the City is on... what year is this?" 

I laughed. "You said you'll pick me up from the airport, right?" 

"Of course I'll be there. If you want, I'll hold one of those cards with your name on it." He didn't sound like a politician, he seemed genuine, tired, and he wasn't pissed at me for waking him up for nothing. 

"That won't be needed," I said. "I can recognize you anywhere." 

This time, he laughed, and it did unholy things to me. "You should get some sleep," he said. 

"Yeah..." I said. "You too." 

"Good night, Tristan." 

He hung up the phone, and I was left there to go to sleep alone and completely unsatisfied. 

I was definitely not "chill".