“Here we are. Please… I know how it looks, just don’t say anything, please.” Timothy said and unlocked his door. “And no, it’s not just a mess, it’s terrible.”

“Don’t be so harsh to yourself,” Chandler said. They entered the apartment. “Oh.”

“Oh my…” Timothy said. He expected no good reaction. His apartment was bulky, cracked and probably full of cockroaches and rats in the walls and ceiling. They’re there, he just never saw them.

At least that’s how he sees it. “You’re an idiot. I mean it is….” He recognized the old rank fat in the kitchen. “Well it is,” and after the mold in the bathroom. “It is more than I expected,” he said. And tried to smile.

Timothy just stared for a moment. “Why couldn’t you just keep that for yourself?” Chandler walked in the small bedroom and smirked. There were no bad intentions in his words. This flat was not the best, but it felt like a home. Of course, because of a certain reason.

Timothy locked the door again. “Really, don’t be so harsh to yourself. Come,” Chandler said and sat down on the bed. Pointing beside him, “let us talk finally.” Timothy got a tiny bit red, still he sat down as well. “Ask your questions. I owe you after all.”

“But my favor was to go here with me, you forgot?” Timothy said and Chandler shook his head. “I thought you had questions as well? Maybe even more urgent ones like mine? After all you could be here, together with a killer?”

“Don’t joke around,” Chandler said and gave him a light bump on the leg. “I’m convincing. I convinced you to a lot. And I can convince myself to not freak out right now.”

“Perfect!” Timothy said. He let himself fall down on the bed. He putted his arms behind his head.

Chandler laughed. “You’re way to relaxed for a killer.”

“Believe me, I’m everything but relaxed right now.” Timothy said. After all, a certain someone was here… in his little palace. And the certain someone still kept his hand on his leg. ‘Does he not notice?’ It was a bit difficult to avoid ‘certain reactions’.

“Okay then. Then let us reveal all our darkest secrets. Your Grandfather… what kind of person is he?”

“Straight kicking the door in, huh? He is a… old man. In every aspect. His views of the world, society. Work. Child raising… and so on,” Chandler said.

“You said he raised you, since your parents died. Then, he probably wasn’t the most considerate guy?” Timothy asked.

“Not at all,” Chandler said. He laid down on the bed as well, now laying beside Timothy. “I will be honest now. As I said… I think at least?… without him I wouldn’t be here.”

‘Here’…

“He made me a actor. But it was rough. Practice all the time, acting, memorizing, singing, even dancing. And all of that while being tutored for school education.”

“You had private tutoring instead of school? So, how did you meet other people?” Timothy asked.

“I didn’t,” said Chandler. “I met the ones my Grandfather allowed, so mostly my teachers and friends of his. They were… not considerate as well.” He started to breathe heavier. “He took care of me, so I thought that I owe him everything. And they made him happy. Except for one time, he smiled only around them, so I thought they should be treated with the highest respect, so I brought them everything when they asked for, like a butler.”

“Oh I don’t like the sound of that,” Timothy said. “They… did they touch you?”

He gave no real answer, only a glare, a weak smile that said everything. “What the hell… did he know about that?”

“Yes. But you should know that they never did anything until I was old enough. And there is another reason… but please… let’s forget that for now, alright?” He was close to tears and rubbed his eyes constantly.

“Sure. Then one last thing… and then I’m done… the reason why you talked to me at the bar? Why was it?” Timothy asked. A question that bugged him for a time, but right now, for the past few days, it was more intense. Was it attraction? Was it destiny? Or rather for fun?

“That’s partly the fault of the thing I don’t want to talk about. But, there was also something else,” Chandler said. “It just felt right, I don’t know. I was interested in getting to know you.”

“And why the hugging? I thought you totally tried to hit on me. And, sorry for that, but I also thought you were a hooker for a short moment,” Timothy said. They both laughed.

“God no…” Chandler said while laughing. “I seriously forgot I did that,” he said, but it was not true. “That’s my personality. I get to clingy sometimes. Start doing or saying weird things, crossing the line.”

“It was incredibly strange,” Timothy said. He laughed as hard it felt as if his lungs were to fall out. “But it was nice,” he said with a bright smile. “I didn’t feel such warmth and care for a long time.” He grabbed Chandler’s hand, held it.

He was a bit surprised, but he did not pull it away. He blushed a bit and rubbed his face. Then he rolled to the side, Timothy as well. They looked each other in the eyes and still held hands. “Now it’s my turn, right? Or do you have some questions left?” Chandler asked. Timothy nodded.

“Good. Your former girlfriend… she took care of you, right? While you struggled with university and paying off the debts?”

“Exactly. I lived in the dorms and had a full-time workload. I met her. She was a student as well, with wealthy parents and still she worked, even more shifts than I did. It was impressive. Her parents helped her a bit, but she wanted to be independent as much as possible. As we met an got closer, she thought without help I’d probably end in a coffin or under a bridge freezing. She helped me a lot.”

Chandler fondled with Timothy’s fingers, stroked them and his arms a bit. “Nice of her. But now I must ask. What did happen? How did she die?”

“I never really had problems with aggression. My mother said, only when I was with someone special,” Timothy said. “She was my first girlfriend, but there were some other when I was younger. Friends, who I had feelings for. About them, I lost temper sometimes. Over little things like before. And we argued a lot because of that. One day, I heard something from a friend of her. She asked what was going on, because she was talking shit about me for weeks. For everyone, I was known as a angry, hateful guy, who yells all the time, punches and cheat her. Though I never did more than yelling. Once.

I went home to confront her, but she wasn’t in my or her room.” He started to breathe heavy as well. And bit his lip, as he suppressed his true feelings.

“I saw her only a few times after that, and only a glimpse of her. No contact at all. It broke me, and I got unfocused, wasted time sulking and looking for her. I lost my job. One day, I went to her dorm room. She was there but wouldn’t open the door for minutes. Then she came out, barely dressed, playing as if nothing happened. She tried to shoo me, but I ignored her, went inside. There was another guy on the bed.”

“So she cheated on you? And never thought about telling you it’s over?” Chandler asked.

“Yeah. She never told me. Neither him. I got extremely aggressive, almost wanted to punch her. Not for cheating only, it was more about that she denounced me behind my back for weeks. And played as if everything were alright between us. I really wanted to punch her. But before that, the guy jumped up, he yelled at her. He thought they were a happy couple, he did not know I was her boyfriend. He was even angrier than me. To be honest, it seemed fake, extremely unrealistic. Then he hit her, several times. I was surprise. Within seconds he punched her to the ground and then choked her, almost crushed her throat. At that moment I intervened. You may think, why so late? But it was really within seconds.”

“Oh my god. But… how the outcome? Why does the police think you murdered her?” Chandler asked.

“I kinda did. Or rather, me and that guy. We kept fighting. And she intervened when she got up again. He punched her to unconscious, and then me. I was blacked out for a few moments, and when I woke up I saw him stabbing at her. It was brutal. And again, unnatural. There was a red veil around him, as if he emitted anger. I lost it. Jumped at him. Pushed him to the ground and punched at him. Then I grabbed the knife, but I did not want to kill him. Rather make him suffer for that, and started to slit his face, body. All of that, the whole fight lasted for maybe twenty minutes? Thirty? The other students called the police, and they arrived fast. At the moment, where I used the knife. For everyone, I was the killer.”

Chandler swallowed with unease. Hearing such a thing was terrible. And considering that it happened not long ago, was even weirder. Did he tell the truth? Was it the lie of a killer?