Unable to stand wearing the same clothes for three days straight, Etienne finally changed out of his black gown. He put on the plain white shirt Byron had bought from the convenience store at the gas station, but instead of wearing it normally, he curled up the bottom and tied it into a crop top. He then slipped into a stylish pair of boxers that Byron had picked up from the mini-market near the hotel. Now, with his lean yet toned abs on display, he was ready to show off his effortlessly bold style.
His golden-dyed hair remained intentionally messy, and with a final touch, he swiped Byron's sunglasses and slid them onto his face.
Byron, on the other hand, remained unchanged—still wearing the same plain white t-shirt, paired with dress pants and formal party loafers—the same outfit he had worn when he escaped John Kaspar's mansion a few days ago—looking completely out of place next to Etienne's daring fashion choices.
Etienne continued piling shopping bags onto Byron, who was already struggling under the weight of far too many. His arms were overloaded, the bags stacked so high that he had to peek through a small gap just to see where he was going.
"Why do you need to buy so much stuff?" Byron grumbled, shifting the bags in his grip as he tried not to drop anything. "We're on the run, Etienne. We can't carry too much, and we don't even have a bag for all this."
Etienne barely spared him a glance, too busy adjusting Byron's sunglasses on his own face as he admired his reflection in a store window.
"Oh, you're right, Byron," he said breezily. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he turned on his heel and started walking ahead with effortless style. "Let's go buy your rucksack! Follow me..."
Byron followed him obediently without any protest, focusing only on balancing the overloaded shopping bags and making sure he didn't drop anything.
The shop selling the rucksack was on the fifth floor, so they headed toward the elevator. With careful steps, Byron entered the empty lift, maneuvering his way inside without toppling the bags. As he accidentally stood too close to Etienne, the other man let out an exaggerated grunt and pointed a finger toward the far corner of the elevator.
Byron sighed but stepped away without argument.
Before they could reach their destination, the elevator unexpectedly went up to the twelfth floor first, forcing them to take a longer route down. The doors slid open, and suddenly, a crowd of people flooded inside, pushing and squeezing into the limited space. The surge of bodies left Byron with no choice but to be pressed right up against Etienne again.
Etienne let out a dramatic grunt of protest.
"Sorry, can't help it," Byron whispered, barely able to move.
By the time they reached the seventh floor, the crowd emptied out, leaving only the two of them in the now spacious elevator.
Without warning, Etienne let out a loud, theatrical scream as if he were being molested.
Startled, Byron immediately stepped back, pressing himself into the corner with wide eyes. "Okay! Okay! Chill! I'm moving away from your personal space!"
Without Byron noticing, Etienne smirked, clearly enjoying himself, while Byron exhaled through his nose. In his mind, he couldn't help but feel a little confused—why would Etienne insist on traveling with him if he truly believed Byron was constantly violating his personal space?
They arrived at the bag store, and Etienne's face lit up with delight. "Look at all these bags! So practical and boring! Perfect for uncles like you!"
"You're also an uncle…" Byron muttered under his breath, too low for Etienne to hear.
Etienne eagerly stepped into the shop, his eyes scanning the selection as he began his quest for the perfect bag. "Let's pick some for you, Byron! Get something big enough to fit our clothes, our snacks, and our jewelry!"
"You mean your clothes… Yep, sure," Byron said, flattening his lips into a straight line, already bracing himself for the chaos that was about to unfold.
Ten minutes passed, and they had yet to find a bag. Byron was starting to get bored, while Etienne was still trying to pick one that looked less boring and more stylish in which of course he couldn't find it. Meanwhile, Byron was already exhausted. Damn it, it's just a bag!
Byron finally nodded toward a canvas rucksack. "Get that one. It fits a lot."
"That one's small," Etienne protested.
"It looks small, but it holds a lot. Trust me," Byron insisted, eager to get this over with. He didn't want to waste any more time here—he just wanted to go back as soon as possible.
They grabbed the canvas backpack, but just as they were about to pay, Etienne turned dramatically, striking a pose. "Babe! I need more money. Give me back my credit card!"
"No, we're not using any debit or credit cards," Byron replied firmly. Carefully setting down the shopping bags, he pulled out his wallet and handed over some paper money instead.
"Stubborn," Etienne huffed, crossing his arms.
Byron ignored him.
***
They stopped at a restaurant, and Byron immediately opened the new rucksack, eager to finally transfer the shopping bags and boxes inside so he wouldn't have to carry them all by hand.
"Byron, what are you doing?" Etienne grabbed Byron's wrist, stopping him mid-action.
"I'm fitting them into the backpack," Byron replied, confused by the sudden interruption.
"Why?" Etienne tilted his head slightly downward, his gaze sharpening with intensity.
Byron had no idea why this was such a big deal. He shrugged. "So I can carry them all easier?"
"No! I want to open them all in the hotel!"
"It's the same thing if you open them here!"
"No! If I open them in the hotel, it feels like I'm receiving presents!"
"Etienne, we might not return to the hotel. We might continue our trip."
"I want to sleep on a nice bed! You made me sleep on the sofa!"
"You were the one who moved to the sofa!"
"Because you were being a jerk!"
"I just misunderstood! I didn't mean it!"
"Molester!"
"I'm sorry for that! But I didn't mean it!"
Their heated banter came to an abrupt halt as the waiter arrived with their food.
While Etienne eagerly reached for his plate of oysters, Byron exhaled, rubbing his temple as he mentally calculated how much he had spent in the past three days. He wasn't even sure if he could enjoy the delicious food in front of him with all that lingering in his mind.
"Byron, open your mouth...." Etienne about to handfeed him an oyster that he already mix with the sauce.
"No, no, no… just eat that, I'm not hungry," Byron said, pushing the oyster away.
"Why aren't you hungry?" Etienne teased, pretending not to know exactly what was on Byron's mind.
Byron sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll grab something from the mini-mart later. Go ahead and eat—I'll pack your things."
Etienne smirked and shrugged before digging into his meal. He could bet that no matter how much money Byron had, he had more. Yet, for some reason, Byron insisted on taking away his cards. What was his deal? Trying to act like a good, responsible, providing husband?
Fine. Let him have a taste of that.
Let's see how far you can serve a queen!
Just as Etienne sipped his oyster, he choked at the sight of Detective Baxter standing right outside the restaurant, looking as angry as a pitbull guarding its master's house from unknown invaders.
Detective Baxter signaled to Etienne with a sharp gesture, indicating that he needed to come over—they needed to talk.
"Babe, I need to go to the toilet. I'll be back soon," Etienne said smoothly as he stood up, quickly making his exit.
Byron barely looked up, responding with a short hum as he carefully packed Etienne's things into the rucksack.
***
Danny monitored the hallway outside the restroom on the seventh floor, where silence stretched uninterrupted—no one passing by, no distractions. Inside, Charles and Etienne talked while Etienne casually fixed his makeup in the mirror.
Charles watched as Etienne applied his lipstick, then rolled his eyes.
"What?" Etienne snapped, feeling offended. "You can try it too if you want. I swear, you'd be cute. I mean, look at your height—are you even 170 cm? I don't think so. That's super cute! And then your lips, your cheeks, your eyes—ooh la la~! With some makeup on, you could have your own fanbase. I swear to God, sugar daddies would love to spoil you, and you could forget all about your criminal ex-boyfriend."
Charles ignored the jab, his expression darkening. "Let's get to the point. Why did you throw away the communicator? Did you quit? Is that it? You think Byron isn't dangerous? That I was wrong about him?" His tone was sharp, frustration simmering beneath the surface.
Etienne let out a dramatic sigh. "Darling, I told you before—if I don't think he's as bad as you say he is, I'm not working with you. And in my judgment? He isn't a sexual offender. You two just have kinks!" He made a flamboyant hand gesture as if describing BDSM theatrics.
Charles's jaw clenched. "Stop bringing up my past!" he snapped. "Yes, we were boyfriends, but he only got with me to avoid the law. He escaped from prison, Etienne. And now I've only got a small window to recapture him before they force me out of this case because they think I helped him escape justice!"
Etienne pursed his lips in mock thoughtfulness before sighing dramatically. "I need to know what he did first, because right now? Honestly? I think you're twisting the truth. You talk about him like he's a terrorist, but he's a 'mass murderer' who killed mafia goons—people who were already at risk of being killed in action. You make it sound like he's some baby murderer."
Charles had been trying to interject, but Etienne's words steamrolled over him. With no other option, he clamped his mouth shut and swallowed his frustration.
"And then you said he was a sexual offender, harassing people. But when I tested him yesterday? I know he's not a rapist. Yes, he misunderstood me—he thought I was roleplaying while I was too damn tired for that kind of lore. But he stopped the moment he realized he misread me. That's not a rapist."
"Let me talk!" Charles snapped. "Okay, so what do you want in exchange for helping me capture him?"
"Honestly? Nothing." Etienne shrugged. "I'm sorry to say, darling, but I don't want to work with you to capture him. I don't think he's a bad person, and frankly, you've been annoying me too much with those stupid instructions. I'm out. And this—" he plucked the hidden microphone from his mouth and tossed it onto the sink with dramatic flair, "—this is your mic. Finally, I can take it off my teeth!"
With that, Etienne turned on his heel and strutted away in style.
Charles didn't even hesitate. "Arrest him," he ordered Danny.
Before he could get far, Etienne was dragged back into the restroom, this time with handcuffs securing his wrists. They forced him to sit on the toilet.
"I didn't do anything criminal! I didn't help him steal the watch either!" Etienne protested, glaring at Charles.
"Under obstruction of justice laws, I have the right to detain you for interfering with an ongoing investigation," Charles said smugly, nodding in satisfaction. Then, tapping Danny's chest, he ordered, "Take him to the station. Put him in jail."
Danny reached for Etienne, but before he could lay a hand on him, Etienne screamed, "Wait!! You think I'm that stupid? I didn't interfere with your investigation—I just refused to work with you!"
Oh? Someone wants to argue about the law with me? Charles turned back to Etienne, tilting his head as if amused. "That's cute. But legally, if you withhold information that could assist an ongoing investigation, that counts as obstruction. And remember, Byron is a fugitive. That makes you an accessory by association."
He took a step closer, lowering his voice just enough to sound dangerous. "And while you're locked up, you know who's going to find you? Gion. He'll know exactly where to send his men… and if he can buy the law, he surely can pay people to do anything to you in jail. And what can Byron do? They'll kill him first just to get to you."
A chill ran down Etienne's spine.
Charles smirked, knowing he had him this time. "But if you work with me, you'll be protected. Your choice, Etienne. Prison… or the truth."