2 Weeks Later…

The bar they frequented was filled with percussive bass. The cacophony of chattering aided the serious nature of the discussion that needed to transpire. The favorite lifeblood joint where friendships began seemed now more like a graveyard now.

“He’s still barely talking to us.” Vic expressed somberly yet in an elevated tone to counter the noise imbalance. “I think after what happened, what he’s learned— fucking hell— what we learned, I don’t know if I’ll forgive Sémillon.”

“We don’t know the full story. Sem kept the fact his wife’s been dead from us for two years, it hasn’t been easy for—“

“Fuck that.” Cezve cutoff Genevieve.

“It makes even less sense, we deserved to know. She was our best friend too. Imagine how Indigo felt. He and Windhoek were inseparable. Sem’s grief is understandable, but his withholding of the fact is not. The ‘she’s tired’ or ‘she’s busy’ act, what the fuck was that all for? He kept the truth of a death from perhaps the closest friend of his wife, he hid the truth from us and we love her too. We shouldn’t have had to find out this way and it’s beyond fucked up.”

“I’m in full agreement.” Vic said frustratedly. “He doesn’t deserve to be forgiven if that’s how he sees us. Undeserving of the truth because your grief is too much? What a piece of shit. I can’t even believe Windhoek’s… gone. How do we even know for certain he’s telling the truth? He lied and manipulated for all those years for no sensible reason. Because of his terrible bullshit choice we might even lose Indigo and I don’t just mean as a friend. He was extremely brave for sharing that with us. Visible damage has been done despite the neutral act he puts on. Showing up for work in the wake of extreme distress is a sign of serious depression. He’s emotionally bleeding and in shock. Let’s stop focusing on Sem, right now he’s dead to us. We need to ask what happened those days he didn’t show up for work again. We need to find out what exactly the exchange was and what he was doing. If we can’t get it out of him, we all head to Sémillon’s place on 5th and 93rd.”

“May I at least say something?” Genevieve quietly inquired.

Everyone turned to Genevieve.

“I… knew. About Windhoek.”

Viscount’s upset expression immediately morphed into astonishment and Cezve went from angry to angrier. The two started talking over each other and began yelling obscenities. Cezve calmed Viscount and they became cognizant of their outburst. Gen waited for the hostility and tension to ease, or rather silence to ensue.

“I’ve known, for about 6 months.”

“YOU KNEW AND YOU DIDN’T—“

“Let me speak or I leave.” Gen composed herself while restoring conversational order from Cezve’s impulsive interruption.

“I know because I had a night with him in his place.”

“This is fucking rich.” Vic abruptly exclaimed.

“Look, I don’t know if it was right or wrong, but it happened so quit the judging. I thought he’d tell me more if I sought him out and confronted him personally. We talked at another home of his.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. He really has a double life. That explains why when I tried to pop in and check on him he wasn’t home. More than one place— does he even need this job or is our coworker career a façade also?” Cezve asked more relaxed, but still expressively agitated.

“CAN YOU TWO PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Gen commanded so loudly groups of people went quiet for a moment before the waves of communication washed back in.

“I didn’t believe his story added up, as we’ve all been doubtful, so one night I took a cab and followed him. I normally wouldn’t ever do that, but I give a shit about him still, and we’re not throwing our friendship to hell over this. We definitely have major shit that needs to be worked out, and I don’t know if we’ll ever look at Sem the same way or if you’ll look at me the same but I have clarifications to make. You’ll never find him without my help anyway so you’d best listen to what I have to say. Six months ago I dropped by unannounced one evening at his other place. He was so taken aback that he slammed the door and wouldn’t even come out. But I told him I wasn’t leaving unless we talked. After a few minutes he opened the door, and walked me to the kitchen. We drank for an hour and I slowly interrogated him, I asked him about his personal life. I wanted to know about his childhood, his education, parents— and that was when I started to exploit that protective social shell we all know. I’m not going to share any personal details because he’ll tell you everything himself. But when he finally gave me something more than just that ‘I’m a tough-guy act’ bullshit, I learned why it was so important he stayed secretive. I stayed with him the weekend, I noticed a flicker of rejuvenation, not wholly there, but gradually the person we knew before this… act…can come back to us. The anger, the rage— his big lie and my aid are unforgivable. Might as well get this out of the way because you’re both already fuming at max capacity; I slept with him. I had an emotional connection with Sémillon in the moments that ensued, but it never happened again. I think he’s a good man, a confused and slightly twisted one, but his heart is pure. If you agree we all can see him together, peacefully, confront this demon head on, I’ll tell you the address and we can even head there now.”

Vic and Cezve looked to each other. Vic whispered something into her ear.

“Okay.” Cezve stated with a pokerface.

”Where is he?” Vic inquired. 

“Has a place in the Hamptons.” Gen explained.