Perhaps it had been a bad idea to stay up most of the night chatting with Mister.A. After all, Callum had joined the app on a whim—not thinking he'd actually find company. And most of his attempts at matches had ended badly. He was literally gay, and he felt like he'd seen enough dicks in the last 24 hours to last a lifetime. But it wasn't like that with Mister.A. Mister.A was different from the other Alpha men Callum had matched with. And not just because Mister.A didn't open with a picture of his cock. 

It was because when Mister.A talked to him, he felt like—like Mister.A saw him as a person. Not just an Omega. For the first time in Callum's life, he'd shown someone who he truly was, and he was welcomed with open arms. Sure, Mister.A didn't know who he was behind the screen name—and he didn't know who Mister.A really was, either. But that fact was so far from Callum's mind, it wasn't even important. 

Still, it was a good thing it was Sunday, because Callum was exhausted. He dragged himself out of his bed and waddled over to his bathroom, starting his morning routine. He had plans with Beck later, so he still had to go through the trouble of looking presentable. And of setting up his synthetic pheromones. 

The smell wasn't Callum's favorite thing in the world—but he'd gotten rather used to it. He'd been wearing the device his father created to mask his natural scent since he was 15, after all. It had taken Bruin Enterprises a year after Callum manifested to figure out a device that could secrete pheromones and how to synthesize those pheromones into something that could be reproduced—but it had kept Callum hidden for nearly two decades, so it was doing its job. 

Still, Callum hated having to wear it. The synthetic pheromones weren't like real ones—they couldn't be controlled with a single thought, or with suppressants. There was only one setting: on. Which meant Callum was walking around every day constantly secreting pheromones (albeit, Alpha ones.) His only relief was when he locked the device away—and he could only do that when he was really and truly alone. 

And, speaking of the device—Callum opened the box where he usually kept it, and pulled out the shimmering, golden Rolex. To everyone else, it was a symbol of his status—but for him, it was more like a glorified handcuff. He clasped the band around his wrist, double checked his appearance in the mirror, and set out of his apartment to start the day.

He had errands to run around the city, but first, he was going to stop at the gym. He was going with Beck later that same day, but he needed to work out a lot to keep up his physique. It was better if he did his own routine in the morning, and then another later when he met up with friends.

After the gym, it was time to head to the grocery store. He was running low on his pre-prepared meals, and with the end of the quarter getting closer, he needed to stock up. Work was about to get hellishly busy. 

It was a boring day, meandering about the world, getting his usual tasks out of the way before he was expected to put the rest of his mask back on at the office. But Callum liked it. He preferred his life this way: a routine that he could follow day in and day out, with no hiccups or surprises to throw him off his rhythm. 

He hadn’t heard from the mysterious Mister.A since the night before, but maybe that was for the best. He wasn’t all that bent out of shape about it. Well, okay, maybe he was a little bent out of shape about it. A tiny bit. He thought they had a connection, but maybe Callum wasn’t interesting enough for the Alpha. 

He went home to change out of his workout clothes, took a quick shower, and spent an exuberant amount of time doing his hair. As he was perfecting his “effortlessly put together” look, his phone lit up with a notification. 

Mister.A

Oh my God, I just woke up

I can’t BELIEVE I slept this long

Please tell me you overslept, and I’m totally normal

Callum found himself laughing at the silly string of messages and turned around to lean back against his bathroom counter. He hadn’t joined Alph-O with the intention of finding love, but Mister.A was fascinating. He wasn’t the traditional Alpha Callum was so used to dealing with.

Bentley

Sorry, you’re on your own with that one.

I’ve been up since 6. 

Mister.A

Bently, your last message was from 3:17 AM

Bently

Trust me, I am well aware.

The bags under my eyes have their own luggage, at this point.

Mister.A

LOL

Please, I’m sure you look fine

Bently

Not true

I got home and realized I’ve had a clump of hair sticking straight up 

All morning 

I went outside like that

Mister.A

Oh my god

Why is that kind of adorable? 

Callum rolled his eyes at the message, a fond smile settling on his features. Okay, so he wasn’t looking for love. But he could flirt back. It was a dating app, for crying out loud. And Beck did make it sound like the main use was quick and dirty hookups in dark alleyways. Not that that was even close to what Callum was looking for, but flirting was fine. 

Bently

Yeah, right

I looked like a mess

Mister.A

A cute mess, no doubt

Bently

Why do I feel like I need to remind you that we have no idea what the other looks like?

Mister.A

I don’t have to know

It’s the vibes

Cute vibes

Bently

What does that even mean?

Mister.A

Sorry, can’t explain it

It’s just… a feeling 

IDK

Maybe that sounds stupid

Callum smiled at his phone, the concept of time completely lost on him. He was half dressed, his trousers still unbuttoned and belt open, his button-up shirt open and unwound. He didn’t care. The rest of the world was lost on him as the afternoon light started to grow warm with the coming evening. 

Bently

No, I get it

You give off vibes, too

I mean, I think

If I am interpreting the concept of vibes correctly, then yours are very cool

Mysterious, even

Mister.A

PLEASE

I just choked on my coffee

You know it’s a double pun?

It’s also a reference to Austen

But Mister.Austen had too many characters

Tragic

Bently

I gathered, given our conversation from last night

I like it

Mister.A

What about you?

Bently, like the Bentley car?

Bently

Ugh

Unfortunately, yes

Misspell a car name ONE TIME

And suddenly, it’s hot news for the rest of the millennium 

Mister.A

Lmao 

Sounds like a story

But if you don’t like it, why use it as your nickname?

Bently

I’ve reclaimed it. 

Callum smiled at his phone as the conversation continued, frivolous and surface level—but meaningful on a different level. Maybe they were still in the early stages of getting to know each other, but it was nice. Callum liked the learning phase. He liked asking silly questions and getting silly answers. 

What’s your favorite way to wake up in the morning? (He prefers not to, obviously, given that he’s a night owl. But if he must wake, he prefers it to be with a piping hot coffee on his bedside table. Cute, Callum thought, but he didn’t say it.)

If you could handle any book from any period of history, what would it be? (The First Folio, but not because it’s the most valuable book ever, or because it’s Shakespeare. It’s an important staple in publishing history. Callum hadn’t known any of that, and he smiled as Mister.A told him all about the wonders rumored to be found in its pages: like how the letters j and u weren't commonly found in type yet, so the printers instead used i and v.)

Favorite movie? (The Princess Bride, because it was just, like, objectively the best movie ever. Callum had never seen it. Mister.A vowed to convince him by the end of the conversation. But he didn’t need to, Callum planned on cueing it up later in the evening.)

The afternoon slowly gave way to the early signs of sunset, and Callum’s doorbell stirred him from his reverie. He had relocated from the bathroom to his bed, and his trousers were done up, but his button-up was still a disaster. At first, he had no idea who would be at his door at such an hour. 

Then, Beck’s voice called through the dense wood. “Callum! All good in there? We’re going to be late!” 

Callum cursed under his breath and threw himself out of the bed, buttoned his shirt at the speed of light (and his belt, once his shirt was nicely tucked), and rushed for the door. He almost forgot about his plans with Beck! 

He opened the door, ruffled and disheveled, a soft pant escaping his lips. Beck opened his mouth to say something, then took in Callum’s appearance. “Uh.”

Callum pursed his lips, fixed his hair with his hand. “Sorry. I was—distracted.” 

Beck continued to stand there with wide eyes. “Holy shit.” 

“Do not look at me like that. It’s not what you think.” Callum slipped out of his penthouse apartment and turned to lock the door, slipping his keys and his wallet into his pocket. “Let’s just go. Or we’ll miss the reservation and the gym will close.” 

Beck hummed. “Okay, but I am going to pester you about this for the rest of the night. Courtney is already there waiting for us, too—so I’ll have backup.” 

Callum sighed and rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t a gesture of annoyance so much as one of fondness. “Yes, yes. I expect as much. But it’s really not what you think.” 

Beck shrugged. “If you say so.”

Callum walked with Beck down to the elevators, the subtle scent from his watch drifting through quiet hallways. Sometimes, it mixed with Beck’s natural pheromones to create something close to what an old TV’s static would be like as a smell, and it itched at Callum’s nose. 

He wondered what it would be like to walk by his friend’s side as himself. It was so easy with Mister.A. There was a screen between them, protecting their outer shells so that they could show something more real to each other. 

Maybe, one day, Callum would be able to be that way in real life, too. It was a fickle thing to dream like that. He knew as much. Beck would probably never forgive him if he knew Callum had been lying all that time. 

It was impossible—fantastical—to think an Omega like him could stand among the city’s Elite. And yet, he had. For so many years. 

Maybe that counted for something after all.