Chapter Twenty-One

THEN

 

When he got back to his apartment, Lyric took a sleeping tablet and lay down. Curled up in his bed, he slept without dreaming, plagued by the same familiar sense of anxiety and nervousness he always experienced after an episode. The air inside his apartment was warm, and a simple white sheet covered his naked frame.

When he finally stirred from his sleeping pill haze, the sky outside his bedroom window was black and the afternoon heat long gone. He shivered beneath the thin sheet and quickly moved to cover himself with the robe hanging on the door of the en suite bathroom. He hugged his arms around him as he walked drowsily towards his open window, the floor-length white sheer curtains billowing in the evening breeze.

He ran a hand through his dreads and gathered them behind his neck, as he surveyed the throngs of people on the streets below. He caught a few of their glances as his thoughts strayed to the dark-haired stranger from this morning.

And his phone that Lyric had picked up from the beach.

He turned to where he had set it on the bedside table and checked the notification screen and saw eight missed calls. All intermittently placed over the past couple of hours from someone the man had saved in his contacts as simply “‘B’.”

Having scrolled through his texts he came to find out that the guy was called Lenox. And whoever he was, he was bound to be searching the beach for his phone.

The beach…

Lyric checked the large clock on the wall across the open-plan lounge.

Twelve-thirty.

He threw on a pair of swimming trunks and a plain white vest, grabbed his keys and both his phone and the one he had found on the beach, and set off.

 

WHEN LYRIC ARRIVED at his destination, he wondered if this was a stupid move. The beach was peppered with shadowy figures, all enjoying the late-night warmth and chilled-out vibe by the sea. He sat near the water’s edge and looked back towards the groups of people, straining his eyes to spot him. As the minutes passed, Lyric realised the chances of him being down here at this exact time were slim to none. But something in his gut told him to wait.

After an hour of listening out in vain for a foreign accent, Lyric decided to take a quick dip and call it a night. He peeled off his vest and walked into the water. There was a slight chill to the sea that felt good against his skin as he dunked himself under, letting the small waves wash over his head.

For a moment, all was quiet. Not only was the noise from the beach dimmed, but also the sounds from inside his head. Under the water, all was still and time seemed to follow suit. Lyric kicked his legs and swam out a bit to escape even further from the demons that awaited him back at shore. He allowed himself to forget all the plaguing worries about his condition. When he surfaced, he looked back at the bright lights of Ibiza’s shoreline, and took a moment to appreciate its beauty even when bathed in shadow.

He stayed afloat for a while until the fire in his legs from treading water became too strong to ignore and forced him back to shore.

When his feet could feel the sand, he walked out of the water, letting the droplets drip down off his broad chest as he inched his way out. As he shook the excess water from his dreads his gaze fell upon a group of people just off to his left. He squinted in the darkness. It looked like a guy and a couple of girls. He stood still for a moment, letting the air dry his body and realised that they, whoever they were, were looking towards him and giggling in a very schoolgirlish sort of way.

One of them yelled something in his direction in what sounded like a British accent. Something about having “nice abs,” followed by lots of shushing and more giggling.

It was him. Lenox. From earlier. It had to be. Although his face was awash in shadow, Lyric could see the shine coming from his black hair that was drawn messily back into a bun. He was dressed in a smart button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

And he was looking this way.

Lyric decided to take a chance. He pulled the vest over his head and grabbed the two phones he had brought with him, then slowly made his way over to where the group sat.

There were some hushed mutterings as they silenced each other. Lyric took a deep breath and flashed his most award-winning smile.

“Esperaba verte de nuevo,” he said in Spanish, knowing full well Lenox probably didn’t speak the language.

“I’m sorry, what’s that?” Lenox responded, a look of total confusion on his face.

“Oh, apologies,” Lyric said, placing a hand to his chest, “I’m not sure why I assumed you were Spanish. Forgive me.” He lied through his enormous grin.

The girls, as well as Lenox, seemed at a loss for words as they sat there, clearly stunned by Lyric’s attempt to be chivalrous. “I was just saying I was hoping to see you again.”

“Oh,” Lenox muttered.

Lyric held out an iPhone. “I think this belongs to you…”